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

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

SOme time since was publish'd a Book entituled, Animadversions upon the Search after Truth, wherein, at the same time, are examin'd part of M. des Cartes's Principles, being a Letter by an Academick in Paris, &c. 'Tis said this Book attacks me, and truly not without Reason; for the Title shews it, and the Author manifests it was his Design; which gives me a Right and imposes on me a sort of Obligation of speaking my Thoughts of it. For besides that, I ought to disabuse some people who delight in these petty Quarrels, and immediately determine on the side of the Criticks that gratifie their Passion; I think my self bound to give some Answer to the Aggressor, that I may not be thought to be ••ilent out of Insolence or Im∣potence.

The Animadverter may pardon me, if he pleases, if I sometimes seem to give him Provocation; I should be very sorry so much as to design it. But I cannot defend my self without wounding him, nor re∣pell the Blows he makes at me, without making him feel, and others know his Weakness and Imbecillity. Self-defence is a natural Obligation, but the Defence of Truth is absolutely indispensible.

See here in short his Design: He supposes the Book he animadverts on, is a Method for laying the Foun∣dations of the Sciences. He reduces this Method to fourteen Heads, and shews that they are either Sup∣positions without Proof, or Assertio••s without Foundation, and consequently that the Substance of the Book is intirely useless to the Enquiry after Truth; though there are here and there some Observations in it that place it in the rank of Works which have gain'd the Estimation of our Age.

I answer in General, that the Author of the Animadversions has not understood, or has dissembled the Understanding the Design of the Book he impungs; it being plain that the principal Design of it, is to dis∣cover the Errours we are subject to. 'Tis true it treats of the Nature of the Senses, Imagination and In∣tellect; but 'tis manifest, and I precaution in several places, that this is only to discover these Errours in their Causes: This being the Method I always endeavour to observe, as believing it most advantageous to the enlightning the Mind.

The Title of the first Page of the Book he opposes, wherein are to be seen in Capitals, CONCERN∣ING THE ERROURS OF TH•• SENSES; the very Table of the same Book, or rather the Place where I make the Division of the whole Work, might have taught him my Design, if he had de∣sir'd to know it, where he might have read these words, which methinks are clear enough:* 1.1 And so all the Errours of Men, and the Causes of them, may be reduc'd to five Heads, and we shall treat of them according to that order. First, We shall speak of the Errours of the SENSES. Secondly, Of the Errours of IMAGINATION. Thirdly, Of the Errours of the PURE INTELLECT. Fourth∣ly, Of the Errours of our INCLINATIONS. And fifthly, Of the Errours of the PASSIONS. And thus having made an Ess••y to rid the Soul of the Errours which she is subject to, WE SHALL, Lastly, LAY DOWN A GENERAL METHOD TO CONDUCT HER IN THE SEARCH OF TRUTH. 'Tis plain enough from this Division, that the first Volume, which is the subject of our A••∣thor's Animadversions, treats only of the Senses, Imagination and Intellect, and that the Method which he supposes I have given, ought to be the Subject of the Second Volume.

Nevertheless as he is pleased to make me undertake a Design I do not execute, that he may have the more to Charge upon my Conduct, so he goes to prove it was my Design to lay down a Me∣thod in that Book. I do him no Injury, says he,* 1.2 in looking on his Book as a Method to lay the Foundations of the Sciences: For besides that the Title expresses so much, he declares himself upon the Point in the following manner;* 1.3

Let us examaine the Causes and Nature of our Errours, and since the Method of examining things, by considering them in their Birth and Origin, is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough know∣ledge of them, let us try to put it here in practice.

I do a Man no Injury, when I say he designs to draw an Hercules; but if I shew that instead of an Her∣cules, he takes a Polyphemus, or Thersites, I make him ridiculous: Should I say with many others, that the Animadverter is a Cartesian, or that he designed by his Animadversions on my Book to defend the Doctrine of Des Cartes, I should not wrong him; but if at the same time I should shew that he opposes me without un∣derstanding me, I should possibly offend him. 'Tis then injuring a Man, to charge upon him Designs which he never had, to render him ridiculous. But a Man must be wretchedly in the wrong who imposes them on such as have, like me in several places, explain'd themselves clearly upon the Subject.

But the Title of my Book evidences as much, for 'tis concerning the Search after Truth. I answer, That to search out Truth, two things are requisite; first to be delivered from the Prejudices of Childhood, or vulgar Errours; Secondly, to have a good Method. The Title of the Book is comprehensive of these two parts. I have given the first in the former Volume, but the Animadverter will needs have it, that I have given the second; which surely is unreasonable. He ought rather to correct the Title by the Book, if the Title dis∣pleased him, than to go about to ruine a whole Book for the Title's sake.

But, continues our Aurhor, I declare my self upon the Point in this manner,

Let us exa∣mine the Causes and Nature of our Errours, and since the Method of examining things,* 1.4 by considering them in their Birth and Origin, is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough knowledge of them;

let us try to put it here in practice.

I have been shewing, that I have declar'd distinctly enough in the Division I have made of my work, that I gave not my Method in the first Volume; this cannot be doubted. But let us see whether this passage was enough to make him think I have given a Method: I say, Let us examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours. My Design therefore according to this Passage, is to examine the Causes and Na••ure of our Errours. That's plain. I continue, And since the Method of examining things by considering th••m in their Birth and Origin, is more regular and perspicuous than others; let us try to put it in practice.

My Design therefore is to examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours methodically; can any one from hence believe I have given a Method? If so, we may believe there is no Author but has given a Method, since there is none but has the same Design as my self to write methodically. I might even say that the Ani∣madverter has design'd to give a Method, and impugn him by his own Weapons, but that he had rather be thought to have written without any. These are the Proofs imployed by him to demonstrate I have given a Method.

The fourteen Heads of this Imaginary Method, are in the places whence they are taken, either incidental Propositions, or Answers to Objections, or Opinions he ascribes to me, for want of Understanding what he engages; or lastly Examples, which of themselves neither are nor can be Heads of a Method. Here fol∣lows the first of these Heads.

I begin thus,

The Mind (or Soul) of Man being neither material nor extended, is un∣doubtedly a simple Substance,* 1.5 indivisible, and without any Composition of Parts, notwith∣standing it has been the custom to distingish in it two Faculties, namely, the Understand∣ing and the Will; which it is necessary in the first place to explain: for it seems, &c.

And in order to render the abstract Ideas of these two words sensible, I explain them not as our Author misrepresents me, with Relation to the Essence of Matter, which he supposes unknown; but by Relation to the Properties which all the World acknowledge are in Matter: i. e. the capacity of being mov'd, and of receiving diffe∣rent external Figures, and internal Configurations.

The Animadverter supposing, as has been said, that the Book he impugns is a Method, be∣gins thus:* 1.6 The first thing to be observ'd when a Man pretends to the search of Truth, is not to suppose he has already found it, though he be in perfect possession of it, &c. And lower, Which thing the Author seems not to have sufficiently consider'd;* 1.7 for at his very first setting out, he engages in the supposition of a thing, the Knowledge whereof is the principal motive to his Enquiry after Truth, and which he ought not to determine before he had exhausted the greatest Questions in Philosophy. Thus it is he enters on his matter in his first Chapter. The Mind of Man being neither material nor extended, &c. 'Tis easie to see this Supposition is not indifferent, &c.

I answer, first, that it was not my Design to give a Method in the Book he impugns, but only to prepare the Mind by delivering it from Prejudices.

Secondly, that though it had been my Design, I might have suppos'd some Truths, which are commonly acknowledg'd; as that the Soul is not material: especialy if I employ them not as a Foundation to build some System on.

I answer in the third place, that the Proposition he will have to be an Head of my Method, is an incidental Proposition. The bare construction of the words, is a sufficient indication; the process of the Discourse an undeniable proof; and all that I say in this place might subsist though the Soul were material. 'Tis not the part of a good Critick to take an incidental Proposition, for a Fundamental, and an Head of a Method. Nor is this to prove I have suppos'd to have found the Truth I am in quest of; since the thing I suppose, or rather which I do not examine, is not of any use to me.

When it was necessary, to the sequel of Discourse, to know that the Soul was a kind of Being distinct from Matter, * 1.8 I have prov'd it, or referr'd to those that have. But why will he oblige me to prove a thing in this place, which would be useless to the following Dis∣course, and I should have been sorry to have prov'd here? Whether the Soul be material or not, it is always true, that it has been the custom to distinguish two Faculties in it, the Un∣derstanding and Will. These two words are in use, and I may employ them; they are perhaps obscure, and I ought to define them; and because their Ideas are abstract, I may make them sensible. This is what I have done, and I cannot yet see what any one can blame in it.

At my very first setting out, he says, I engage in the supposition of a thing, the knowledge whereof is the principal motive to my Enquiry after Truth, and which I ought not to determine before having exhausted the greatest Questions in Philosophy.

All this Discourse is false, I engage not in a Supposition, for incidental Propositions come not into account. The principal motive to my Enquiry after Truth, is not to know whether the Soul be Material or Immaterial; and so far is this Question from being insoluble, till having drain'd the greatest Questions of Philosophy, that its Resolution depends on no other. This Question is not complex'd, and the bare Comparison of Ideas which answer to the terms is sufficient to resolve it, as I shall shew in the sixth Book, though this is not discover∣able by those who make more use of their Imagination than their Reason. There is no necessity of explain∣ing this more at present; we need but know that this Supposition is an incidental Proposition, from which I draw no Conseqence, and which I should have been to blame to prove; and yet if we will credit the Animadverter,* 1.9 What is worst of all, is that this sole Anticipation is enough to ruine all the hopes the Search after Truth might have rais'd in us.

In the four or five first Pages which our Animadverter spends in refuting the first pretended Head of the Imaginary Method, many things would deserve our consideration, if we thought our selves obliged to let the World know all his Faults; for he imposes on me here, as in other places, without any Proof, Opi∣nions and Designs which never entred my Head; and he does it with a confidence which is capable of sur∣prising all those who believe others on their Words. I am willing to think he is too honest and sincere a Man to prevaricate, and to be prodigal of that Respect which is due to the Publick; but if so, there is Levity or Temerity in his enterprise: he should not have undertaken to oppose what he did not understand. Yet I cannot chuse but relate how he finishes his first Attack; we shall know what we are to think of the rest by the Beginning and End.

I said that the Soul being a Simple and Indivisible Substance has no parts; however it had been the cu∣stom to distinguish in it two Faculties, the Understanding and Will, &c. This has given occasion to the A∣nimadverter to accuse me of Contradiction; and after having prov'd, after his manner, by many Interroga∣tions and Rhetorical Figures extremely convincing, he concludes with these words, which represent his whole figurative Reasoning in short, and for that Reason he has put it in Italick; Which is the same thing, says he, as if I should say, THE SOUL IS WITHOUT ANY COMPOSITION OF PARTS; BUT YET I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW SHE CONTAINS THEM. You see, Sir, continues he, that this Supposition serves only to throw us immediately into obscurity; besides that, it

is contrary on other grounds to the success of this Method. But who ever took Faculties for Parts? Cer∣tainly the Passion for Criticising must be very blind, to put into the Mouth of a Man of Parts, so extraor∣dinary Comparisons, and to make him believe the World must be content with them. But let us examine his second Head of my pretended Method, and see how he impugns it.

After having shewn that to the avoiding Errour, we must only give our consent to things appearing in such Light and Evidence as make it impossible for us to withhold it, without clearly Un∣derstanding the secret Reproaches of our Reason: I adjoyn;* 1.10

'Tis not however to be de∣nied but there are some Truths, besides those of Faith, for which it would be unreasonable to demand indisputable Demonstrations, as are those which relate to matter of Fact in History, and other things which have their dependence on the Will of Men; for there are two kinds of Truth, the one ne∣cessary, the other contingent.

And because these two words Necessary and Contingent, are not it may be clear enough, I explain them thus:

I call necessary Truths those which are immutable by their Na∣ture, and those which have been fix'd and determin'd by the Will of God, which is not subject to change: All other sorts of Truth are contingent. And lower, We demand therefore an exact observation of the Rule we have been establishing in the Search of necessary Truths, the knowledge of which may be call'd Science; and we must be content with the greatest probability in History, which includes the knowledge of things contingent.

For under, &c.

I wish it might be examin'd, first, whether the things I have been saying are clear or obscure? Whether it may not be suppos'd there are necessary Truths, as that 2 times 2 are 4, and contingent Truths as that Mr. — shall say such a thing at such an hour, especially when we have no design of establishing any System upon this Supposition? Whether there be any thing more certain than this Supposition, whereby it may be proved. Lastly, whether a Man can reasonably persuade himself, that I lay down for one of the Heads of my Method, or a Supposition essential to any System, a Proposition which begins with FOR.

This being suppos'd I come now to produce the Reasonings of our Animadverter against what I have said of contingent and necessary Truths, I shall only place in the Margin some Notes or Answers I shall think necessary; this being the shortest and easiest way for me; since it is an harder thing than is imagined to an∣swer clearly such as are unintelligible and inconsequent Reasoners. For we must at least put their Objecti∣ons in some form to solve them, which cannot be always done, either because they will not bear it, or be∣cause we do not understand them. For my own part, I am very glad it cannot be imagined I use the Ani∣madversions, as the Animadverter has us'd the Search; or that from different Passages of this Book I com∣pose an incomprehensible peice of Nonsense.

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

ANIMADVERSIONS.

THE Second thing supposed by the Author is, that there are two sorts of Truths, Necessary and Contingent. I know not for what reason he looks upon what he here asserts, as (a) undeniable, and why he does not think of proving it. For this is one of the most considerable Questions that has em∣ployed the Learned, especially the Ancients; insomuch that the first Philosophers were (b) all, except Parmenides, of a con∣trary opinion to that he maintains in this place. Yet Parme∣nides acknowledged but one necessary Truth, whereas he sup∣poses a very great number. Protagoras believ'd there was no Truth on the part of things, so far was he from owning any necessary; and that Man was the Measure and Rule of all that could come in Question; that there was nothing but mere Ap∣pearances, and no Realities, and consequently there were no Truths to seek, or Errours to avoid, all being equally true, or rather equally false. The Pyrronists have still maintained there was nothing certain or truly determined, or that if there were, yet we could not know it. The new Philosophers grant that individuals are no wise immutable, but are subject to continual Vicissitudes; which being so, what becomes of necessary Truths? I speak not of those which are found in the Mathematicks, that ought to make a Question (c) apart; but of those he supposes in Physicks, Medicine and Morality, though I still except those which regard the Essence or Existence of a God. Where then could he place them, except in the (d) Species and Essences of the same Individuals which are subject to change? And if these Essences or Species are nothing but Ideas, as may be su∣spected if their immutability be only in appearance, should not we, in following that supposition, engage in an Errour, which would absolutely exclude us from the knowledge of the true state of things?

But let us see what the Author calls necessary Truths, for at least he explains what he means by these words,

I call necessary Truths, those which are immutable by their Nature, and those which have been fixed and determined by the Will of God, which is not subject to change.

To say that these Truths are immutable by their Nature, what is it more than to say, they are immu∣table because immutable, unless this signifies they are essentially so without any external assistance? But if these Truths were necessary in this manner, how were they determin'd by the Will of God, since God being free, as the Author will not deny, he might, if he had pleas'd, have not determin'd them to be immutable (e) . And if so, they are immutable only by Grace, because God will'd it so, and determin'd them to that state of immutability.

This being so, how come they to be immutable by their Nature, since it was possible for them to be liable to change? But if it were not possible for them to be subject to change, how could they be deter∣min'd by God to be immutable? and how could he have fix'd them by the operation of his Will?

The Author may explain himself upon this Point, if he think convenient; mean time it is no little con∣cern to know whether God can change the Essences of things, and make two Contradictories true at the same time; for as a celebrated Divine of our Age has said upon the same words that are now under exa∣mination, Is God the Author of the Truth of his own Existence? Or ought we to affirm that we can form a right-lined Triangle, whose three Angles shall be greater than two Rights; or that shall have one Side longer than the other two? In a word, if it be possible for Contradictories to be true and false at the same time, what will become of humane Reasoning? And what shall we say to those Theological Conclusions, which assure us that God is not Corporeal, that he is not subject to Change, that he has always been? (f) &c.

(g) Might we not say in following this Hypothesis, that its possible for him to have been eternally, and not to have been eternally; that he is liable and not liable to change? I mean not to pronounce upon so difficult a Question, but I may af∣firm the Author had no right to do it, especially in the Cir∣cumstances he has done it, and without alleadging sufficient Proofs.

Yet methinks I perceive a shew of Reasoning in these words, and by the Will of God which is not subject to change. He seems to consider the Will of God as the Cause of the Necessity of these Truths. But if so, he proves too much in the place where we complain he proves nothing at all; for if what God wills be immutable, because his Will is not subject to change; it follows that whatever he wills, must have an equal immutability, since it is the same Will which is the Cause of it: Mean while it is certain he wills things which are subject to change, when he determines the Existence or Non-existence of Creatures in the Vicissitude of times (h) . Thus though God should have fix'd these Truths but for some Ages, his Will thereby would be no less immu∣table, than for his producing daily all those admirable changes which make the Beauty of the Universe.

But the Author will say, God wills that these Truths should be immutable for ever. But how could he know this, had he any particular Revelation? yet he speaks as possitively as if he was very certain.

It may be he bottoms upon this, that if these Truths seem immutable to us whilst they are subject to change, we should err in pretending to Science (l) . But if it were so, all that could thence be concluded is that the first Philosophers, the Academicks and Pyrronists, have better Philosophiz'd than the Peripateticks, Cartesians, and other Dogmatists; and I do not believe the Author would establish his Phi∣losophy upon such a Sophism, unless there were necessary Truths, we could have no true Science; there∣fore there are necessary Truths.

(m) But though we might suppose there were necessary Truths in Physick, Medicine, &c. and might determine about this Question, without being utterly excluded from the know∣ledge of Truth.

Though these Truths were necessary by their Nature, and their immutability by some new Mystery was still an effect of the free determination of the Will of God.

Though the necessity of these Truths proceeded from the immutability of this Will, whilst yet it is the Cause of all the Changes happening in the Universe.

Though we should be moreover assur'd that God had resolv'd to preserve these Truths in an entire immutability.

We must still suppose in order to enter into his Opinion, the knowledge of the Existence of God and of his Will, of his Li∣berty and of his Power.

(n) Which obliges me to make some Reflexions upon what he has borrowed from Faith to add to Reasons Philosophical, which is what we may look upon as his third Supposition.

After having prov'd that we must yield only to Evidence, except in matters of Faith, which are not submitted to the disquisition of Reason; I conclude with these words.* 1.11

Mysteries then of Faith must be distinguished from things of Nature: we ought equally to submit to Faith and to Evidence, but in the concernments of Faith we must not look for Evidence, as in those of Nature we ought not to take up with Faith; that is, with the Authority of Philosophers. In a word, to be a Believer 'tis required to assent blindly, but to be a Philosopher it is necessary to see plainly.

Mysteries of Faith must be distinguished from things of Na∣ture. Thus judiciously speaks the Author, and concludes with these words, which might even pass for (o) a Proverb: To be a Believer 'tis requir'd to assent blindly, but to be a Philosopher 'tis necessary to see plainly. Mean while I wonder he observes not in his Book the Resolution he made of not (p) mingling the concerns of Religion with the decisions of Philosophy: for it's too visible that one half of his Book is nothing but Reflexi∣ons upon original Sin, deprav'd Manners, and corrupt Inclina∣tions, which Christian Morality is to correct.

(q) I blame not his Piety in this, nor believe it a thing un∣becoming a Christian to labour upon these Subjects. But that ought to be reserv'd for Sermons.

(r) Or if he had design'd to take the occasion of insinuating these Morals, as knowing that the true way of moving the Heart pathetically is to do it by discovering to the Mind the Truths that are of nearest concernment to it; he might have satisfied that laudable desire, but should have contriv'd for that purpose particular Chapters, which he has done too in some places. But once more, a very little thing will serve to con∣found the Light we begin to receive in the Search after Truth.

(s) We cannot at the same time satisfie both Reason and Faith, since Reason obliges us to open our Eyes, and Faith commands us to shut them.

(t) And yet I find he has so interwoven his principal Pro∣positions with the Credenda of Religion, that he seems to talk more like a Divine than Philosopher. For exam∣ple,* 1.12 among other things he concludes, That (u) if the Will had not this Liberty, but must have embrac'd every thing that came cloath'd with an appearance of Truth, it would have almost ever been deceived; whence probably it might be concluded that the Author of its Being was the Author of its Errours and Seducements. And afterwards, We have therefore a Liberty given us by God, that we might avoid falling into Er∣rour. 'Tis visible this reasoning is founded on the Author's supposing God will not deceive us (x) . But may it not be doubt∣ed whether God has not made us for the enjoyment of proba∣bility only, and resolv'd to reserve the knowledge of Truth as his own peculiar; or whether he designs not this as a pure ac∣cession to our Happiness (y) in Heaven; wherefore we ought not to conclude that he would be a Deceiver, if he should not afford us the means of discovering it.

(z) I leave it, Sir, to you to think what the Pyrronists would say, if they should hear this arguing. Many such there are in the process of this piece, especially in the last part, whereof most Chapters contain Arguments which include the∣ological Questions (a) .

(b) Whether then he considers all these Suppositions as Arti∣cles of Faith, or regards them as Truths demonstrable by Phi∣losophy, he ought still to distinguish them from the Fundamen∣tals of his Work.

If he considers them as Articles of Faith, he is very well p••rsuaded they are obscure: If he looks on them as conclusions of Humane Science, his Method ought to precede them, and not imploy them as Principles to depend upon.

If I thought the World would be concern'd to know exactly that the Animadverter has not understood what he has pretended to encounter, I would thus continue him on to the end of his Book, and would make it undeniably appear that he has hardly ever taken my Sense, and that he had no Idea of my Design; but I believe that reasonable Men will be very indifferent in this particular: and therefore not to weary them to no purpose, and yet to discharge that Debt which some persons think I owe to Truth, I will an∣swer in few words all the Chapters of the Animadversions; and I desire such as shall have leasure and cu∣riosity enough, to examine whether my Answers are just, by confronting the Animadversions with the Search.

In the fourth Article or Chapter, the Animadverter opposes my Opinions at large, without knowing them. He does not consider there are two sorts of Traces, one which the Mind forms to represent things by, as the Trace which accompanies the Idea of a Square; the other which accompanies abstract Ideas but re∣presents them not; such are the Traces which the Sound of Words and the Sight of Characters produce in the Brain, which naturally have no power to represent or raise Ideas. This one Distinction overthrows the grand Reasonings of our Author.

In this fifth Chapter he puts upon me many Opinions which I never had. 'Tis not true, That I acknowledge all our Ideas to be but Modes of our Soul's existing.* 1.13 On the contrary, I have in the third Book which he reflects on, given a Chapter on purpose to shew that Opi∣nion indefensible. When a Man will play the Critick, 'tis fit, methinks, he should read the Book he takes to task.* 1.14 Nor is it true, that I own that the Ideas we receive by the Senses, re∣present only the Effects produc'd in us hy external Objects. I have said the contrary in several places, in the fifteenth Chapter of the first Book, and elsewhere. Why does he not cite, or rather why does he not examine what he Criticises on? For what remains, I cannot distinctly conceive all the Argu∣mentations he here makes. I know not the Reason of them: those who attentively read them may think of them what they please. But I scruple not to affirm, that he is so far from impugning my Opinion about the manner of the Minds perceiving external Objects; that on the contrary, what he says in this Article shews he knows nothing of it.

In his sixth Chapter, he imposes on me what he calls my sixth Supposition; or rather he has no know∣ledge of my Opinion upon that Subject: To me he seems not so much as to have read what I have written on it;* 1.15 he affirms in several places that I bottom upon Mr. des Cartes's resolution upon that Question, when yet my Opinion is intirely different from his. But 'tis evident to all that understand Mr. des Cartes, and have read what I have said upon that Question, that the Author neither understands mine nor Mr. des Cartes's Opinions. Mean-while he argues vehemently without know∣ing what he opposes, and even sometimes without discovering what he aims at.

The Author is very much in the wrong in his seventh Chapter, to require me to prove the Existence of Extension,* 1.16 when I mean only to assault the Errours of the Senses in point of sensible Qualities, and I should have repented if I had follow'd that Method. I prove what is serviceable to me in the sequel, and I establish nothing upon the Supposition he attributes to me.* 1.17 Moreover I cannot tell how it came into his Head, after seven years, to complain of an Answer of Monsieur Rohault; he should have replied to it whilst he was alive, but he want∣ed courage: for every one knows with what accuracy and force that learned Man repell'd the Blows that were offer'd him, and with two or three words, pronounc'd without all manner of Heat and Passion, hum∣bled the Imagination of such as being full of themselves, thought to cover him with confusion.

In answer to the eighth Chapter, I desire the Author to take notice, first, that there is dif∣ference between an Evil,* 1.18 and the Representation of it; and therefore the Will may fly the for∣mer, and yet aquiesce in the latter. Secondly, that though the Will be nothing but the na∣tural Motion of the Soul towards Good in general? yet the Rest or Acquiescence of the Soul in evident Truths proceeds from the Will, because Rest is produ'd by Motion. God will still imprint on us this na∣tural Motion of Love, when we shall intirely repose our selves upon him. For the Motion of Love doth not cease by the possession of Good, and by the view of Truth, as Motion of Bodies is interrupted by Rest. We might say farther, that even Bodies rest not as capable of Figures, but with respect to Motion. The rest need no Answer, if the Reader will carefully consider those places in the Search which he attacks; for 'tis needless to answer Objections which vanish upon a distinct Understanding of what I have written, though they appear considerable in themselves.

In the ninth Chapter the Author opposes my own Objections, and neglects the Answers I have given them; and not knowing there are several sorts of Liberty, he fancies, with a great deal of Joy, that I have fallen into a Contradiction.

I have nothing to say to his Tenth Chapter, but that what he comments on seems too clear to stand in need of his Reflexions;* 1.19 and that I think it cannot reasonably be doubted there is a City in Italy call'd Rome, though it cannot be mathematically demonstrated.

In the eleventh Chapter, the Author does not observe that I have referred to some Books of St. Austin, and the Meditations of Mr. des Cartes, to prove a thing, which yet is sufficiently receiv'd, and which he pretends I had no right to suppose. He ought to know my Design was not to establish a System, and to re∣member that all I vigorously demand, is, to enter into some diffidence of our Senses; as I have caution'd in the last Chapter concerning the Errours of the Senses.

In answer to the Consequences he infers in his Twelfth Chapter, against an Example alleadg'd by me, and which he will have to pass for an Head of my Method, we need but say, that Men ought to reason only upon their clear and distinct Ideas, whithout being sollicitous about what they cannot reach; and that 'tis not necessary to know whether there are actually Bodies without us, to conclude many Physical Truths.

I have no more to say to his Thirteenth Chapter, but that I wish a Man would attentively read what I have said concerning the manner of our knowing the Soul, in the Seventh Chapter of the Second Part of the Third Book, and the Chapter following, where I speak of the Essence of Matter.

Last of all, to do justice to the Reasonings of the last Chapter; it suffices to know distinctly my manner of explaining how we see external Objects.

This is all I thought necessary to answer to the Animadverter, as being persuaded that those who tho∣roughly conceive my Notion will have no need of an Illustration upon the pretended Difficulties he urges to me; and others who have not read nor comprehended the things I treat of in the Book he opposes, would not understand the largest Answers I could give them.

'Tis sufficiently manifest from the three first Chapters of the Animadversions, which I have refuted more at large, what, we are to think of the other, which I have answerd in a word or two. Those who have Time and Inclination may examine them more exactly: but for my own part I should think I wasted both my own time and that of others, if I should stay to collect all the Paralogisms which are scatter'd through his Book, to acquaint those persons with them, who doubtless have little or no desire to know them.

The Reason and Judgment of worthy Men cannot suffer those long-winded Discourses, which tend to no good, but onely shew the Spleen and ill Humour of their Authors; and 'tis a ridiculous thing to imagine that others interess themselves in our Quarrels, and to call them to be Witnesses of the weakness and vain ef∣forts of our Adversary.

He that attacks me has no reason to find fault with my manner of Defence; for if I answer not all his Animadversions in an ample way, 'tis not because I despise him. He may conclude, that I should not have warded off the Blows he design'd me, if I did not think him able to hurt me; and I think I have more reason to complain of the negligence of his Animadverting, than he has to be angry at my manner of answering him. Had our Author zealously buckled to engage me, I am persuaded he had found me Exercise; for I judge not of the Strength of his Parts by a venturous Sally of his Pen, which he seems only to make by way of Pas∣time. Thus the negligence he manifests is to my advantage, and for my part I complain not of his remis∣ness, as being unworthy his Application and his Anger. All that I am sorry for, is, that he speaks not se∣riously of serious things; that he sports with Truth, and wants some of that Respect which is due to the Pub∣lick, when he trys to over-wit it several different ways, as this Answer in part has manifested.

If I have been oblig'd to speak of him as I have done on some occasions, he must thank no body but himself; for I have suppress'd, for fear of displeasing him, many Expressions and Thoughts, which his man∣ner of acting breeds naturally in the Mind. I have so great an Aversion to all useless Con••ests, and that are pre∣judicial to Charity, that I will never answer those who oppose me without understanding me, or whose Dis∣courses give me some reason to believe they have some other motive than the Love of Truth. As for others I shall endeavour to satisfie them. I see plainly, that if I were oblig'd to answer all that have the good Will of assaulting me, I should scarce ever enjoy the repose I desire. But as there is no Law in France which hinders them from speaking, so there is none which forbids me to be silent.

It may be whilst I am silent, my Insulters may find themselves ill treated by some invisible hand; for I cannot help it, if the Love of Truth provokes some Wits, who might do it with better Grace, to defend a Work in which they had no part. But I wish this promise I make, and freely without any constraint, may be remembred; and that those Writings may not be imputed to me, which I might make, but which I de∣clare I never will. Mean-time I think that those that have nothing solid to oppose to me, had much better say nothing, than fatigue the World with Writings, which break Charity, and are useless to the discovery of Truth.

ANSWER.

(a) 'TIS because this is more certain than any thing else, and that there is nothing certain if this be not. For if Two times Two are necessarily equal to Four, if a Whole be necessarily bigger than its Part, there are necessary Truths. I know not for what reason the Animadverter would have me think of proving what can∣not be prov'd, unless by something more obscure and difficult. This is not to Philosophize * 1.20 after the manner of the ancient A∣cademy.

(b) This is curious and far fetch'd. All the first Philosophers, except Parmenides, have denied there were necessary and con∣tingent Truths. What wonder is it? 'Tis a fine thing, this Erudition; certainly Me∣ditation can never teach us what we learn from the reading the Ancients, though we understand them but by halves. But 'tis visible that our Author understands the old Philosophers no better than the new.

(c) I say indeed that ought to make a Question apart, but he will let it have no part.

(d) The demand is pleasant, but the Author would not have made it, if he had but read the Third Book of the Search after Truth, since I have there clearly given my Thoughts upon these things. But it seems our Author takes Truths for certain little Beings, which are born and die every Moment.

(e) There are two sorts of immutable Truths. Some are immutable of them∣selves, or by their Nature, as that twice Two are Four; and others because they have been determin'd by the Will of God, which is not subject to change; as that a Bowl should move another on such an encounter. 'Tis easie to see he has not understood what he pretends to oppose. He was not aware that the Conjuctive Particle and had sometimes the same purport as the Disjunctive or; for if he had observ'd it, he could with no good Grace have seriously wrangled upon the Ambiguity of a Particle. He might have easily consider'd that Truths which are Necessary by their Nature, as that Two times Two make Four, need not the Will of God to make them such. But be it granted, that I had not sufficiently explain'd my self; yet the place on which he criticises being but accessary to my Design, it was not necessary to explain my self more at large. Would a Man be at the pains of reading it, he might see I needed only to say, there were necessary Truths, and that I was not oblig'd to examine the cause of their nececessity.

(f) For my part I know not what he drives at: this is a very commodious way of criticising; a Man has Reason when∣ever he desires it.

(g) He imposes on me three Falsities in six Lines. I have never determin'd upon this Question, neither in undue Circumstances, nor with insufficient Proofs; for I have not so much as spoken of it; but if he has a mind to know my Thoughts of it, I fear not to affirm that God cannot cause Contradic∣tories to be true and false at the same time.

(h) He confounds Beings with Truths. Man is capable of Reason and Sense. A Globe may be divided into two Hemi∣spheres. A Man and a Globe are subject to change, but these Truths are immu∣table.

(l) All this concerns not me, but only shews the Fecundity of our Author.

(m) Consider, if you please, all these Flourishes, endeavour to understand them, and admire how the Imagination seduces Reason: I think our Author may be said to resemble a Man, who imagining he sees his Enemy at hand, should presently charge against the Phantom, should pierce it with his Sword, should cut off its Head; and then, over-joy'd with so successful and easie a Conquest, should triumphant∣ly exclaim, though my Pistols had mis∣carried, my sword had run him through; but though my Sword had missed him, yet I had cut off his Head; but lastly,

though his Head should have remained upon his Shoulders, yet I found him so feeble and easily to be con∣quered, that I had nothing to fear from him. 'Tis visible from all these Flourishes, that our Author fan∣cies he has severely handled me, whilst yet I am as insensible of his Wounds, as the Enemy the poor Man thought he had so cruelly Butcher'd.

(n) I ought in our Author's opinion to have begun with Theology to prove me∣thodically there are necessary and contin∣gent Truths: but I do not believe that Conduct would have had the Approbation of many People; and seeing it is an hard task to content the Criticks, I cannot believe our Animadverter would have been well satisfied. This third Head, which I am going to comment on, as on the preceding, sufficiently shews us what he is.

(o) I know not whether what I say ought to be rank'd amongst Proverbs and Quibbles, for that depends upon the Tast; and I refer my self to those whom the Passion for criticising has not made over scrupulous and dainty. They likewise may reflect whether this niceness suits well with the Author of this Discourse, and whether he ought so much to pretend to an exquisite Tast.

(q) Can he not see that these things are not of themselves Articles of Faith, and that we may speak of the Goodness of God, deprav'd Manners, and corrupt Incli∣nations without having recourse to Faith.

(p) There's a great difference between mingling and confounding. I shall always distinguish things of Faith from those of Nature, as I here say ought to be done. But I never made a Resolution not to speak of God or Christian Morality in treating about the Search after Truth. The Author seems not to under∣stand me, that he may play the Critick with less trouble.

(r) There are in these Animadversions some little Raileries which provoke to Pity, but this might raise ones Indigna∣tion. Let him know once for all, that if I consented to the Publication of this Book, 'twas chiefly because it contains those things which he condemns as Enthusiasms.* 1.21

(s) If he speaks of himself, we ought to take his word for it.

(t) What he has said is true, but what he goes to conclude from it is false, it be∣ing Reason and not Faith which teaches us God is no Deceiver.

(u) He has here suppress'd two words, which give all the force to my reasoning, which runs thus, If it must infallibly and necessarily have embrac'd every thing; we shall see by and by what reason he had for this Retrenchment.

(x) Reason teaches us, that God is no Deceiver, and Faith supposes it; which is quite contrary to what the Animadver∣ter imagines.

(y) It cannot be doubted when we have Reasons for it; but it is needless to stand to answer all these Questions.

(z) I do not conclude it with that Ar∣gument: Mine is good, and this good for nothing; there is difference between IN∣FALLIBLY and NECESSARILY forcing us to embrace Errour, and not giv∣ing us the means to discover Truth. Certainly these words, Infallibly and Necessarily, ought not to be suppress'd.

(a) He cannot shew a place in the whole Book he animadverts on, where I suppose any Article of Faith as a Principle from whence to draw any Consequences Essential to the Search of Truth. But he imagines if a Man speaks but of the Goodness of God, deprav'd Manners, and corrupt Inclinations, he is treating of some Article of Faith.

(b) Methinks these two Conclusions have no other aim than to gain by sur∣prise some little Applauses from such as give them gratis.

ADVERTISEMENT.

SInce the first Impression of this second part, two Books have been publish'd relating to it. The first en∣tituled, Animadversions upon the Animadversions on the Search after Truth, wherein is discovered, &c. I am highly oblig'd to the Author of these Animadversions for the Honour he seems to do me by the Title of his Book; but since this Title may make the World believe I had some hand in his Work, I think my self oblig'd to say, that though I am very well satisfied with his Person, I am not extremely pleas'd with his Book. Methinks that those who meddle in defending or opposing others, ought to read their Works carefully, so as to be throughly acquainted with their Opinions. But the Search after Truth, you'll say, me∣rits not the Application of Men of Parts: True, it deserves not therefore that the Person spoken of, who un∣doubtedly is a Man of great Sense and Worth should either impugn or defend it.

The Title of the second Book runs thus; The Animadverter's Answer to the Preface of the second Volume of the Search after Truth, wherein is examin'd &c. I intreat those who interess themselves in the diffe∣rence of others, not to believe me on my bare word, nor easily to imagine I am in the right. I think I have Liberty to demand of them, that they will carefully examine the Answers I have made to the Animadversions in that Preface, and the Argumentations of the Animadverter, in reference to the Book oppos'd? so I think I may without offence to the Author of this Answer, require of those who would judge of it, not to ima∣gine he has reason on his side, upon a slight and transient reading of his Book. I desire them not to judge of any of his Answers before having examined it, with reference to this Preface and the preceeding Books. Take here for an instance the first of his Answers, which begins thus.

Vpon what the Author of the Search pretends, the Animadverter imposes on him touching his Design (a) 1.22.

'Tis not imposing on him, to make his Book pass for a Collection of Observations, thought by him useful to the discovery of Truth. 'Tis plain I have positively declared that I look upon his Book, as a Collection of many Re∣marks, &c. If the Author had consider'd these words, he would not have accus'd me of imposing on him:

for he could not deny but he had a Design of offering something serviceable to the discovery of Truth, which is all that I attributed to him. And lower, Wherein I even prove that that is not to be imputed to him, which he affirms I impose upon him. Lastly, he concludes this Article with these words; 'Tis therefore evident the Author of the Search cannot prove I impose on him, unless he will maintain he had a Design of writing a Book altogether useless to the Search of Truth.

These Words might possibly make a Man imagine, I had without Reason accus'd the Animadverter of impo∣sing on me in the Design of the Search; but whoever would but confront what he here says with the foregoing Preface, or with what he has said himself, pag. 9, 10. of his Animadversions, would I hope be of another mind. That I may not give the trouble of turning to it, these are my words.

Nevertheless as he is pleas'd to make me undertake a Design I do not execute, that he may have the more to charge upon my Conduct, so he goes to prove it was my Design to lay down a Method in that Book. I do him no injury, says he, in looking on his Book as a Method to lay the Foundation of the Sciences. For besides that the Title expresses so much, he declares himself upon the Point in the following manner:

Let us examine the Causes and Nature of our Errours; and since the Method of examining things by considering them in their Birth and Origin is the most regular and perspicuous, and serves better than others to give us a thorough knowledge of them, let us try to put it here in practice.

Methinks these words, I do him no injury, says he, &c. which I cite out of the Animadversions, are clear enough, and that a Man need but understand English to see that the Animadverter imposes on me a Design of giving a Method, and pretends too to prove it by the Title of the Search, as also by a passage of the same Book; and yet he boldly concludes this Article with these words, 'Tis therefore evident the Author of the Search cannot prove I impose on him, &c.

But what! he has positively declar'd he look'd upon the Search after Truth, as a Collection of many Ob∣servations. I cannot deny, says he, but he had a Design of offering something useful to the discovery of Truth, which is ALL (mark that word) I attribute to him. Since he has a mind to be diverted, see my Answer.

A Painter has drawn a Polyphemus, and standing behind his Piece, hears some Critick say, Look here, Gentlemen, the Artist design'd to paint an Hercules; but if you mind it, it is a Polyphemus. The Pain∣ter, out of patience, starts from behind the Scene, and gives the Spectators to undrestand, he had no Design of representing an Hercules, and that he imposes on him. The Critick surpriz'd, addresses the Painter, Sir, why so angry? what did you design to represent? Polyphemus, returns the Painter. Strange, Sir! replies the Critick, why do you say I impose on you? I call these Gentlemen to witness, that ALL that I said, was, you had drawn a Polyphemus: upon which the Painter withdraws contented, and says no more.

I think my self therefore obliged to rest silent upon such like Answers. I have shewn by the Animadver∣ter's own words, that he imposes on me a Design of giving a Method in the first Book of the Search, and that he likewise pretends to prove it. I have cited the place of the Animadversions, from whence I have taken my proof. Nevertheless, this Author affirms he does not impose on me; that 'tis evident I can∣not prove it; that he proves quite contrary; that what I say he imposes on me is not to be imputed to me; that ALL he atributes to me is a Design of offering something useful to the discovery of Truth. In a word, that he has positively declared he look'd on the Search as a Collection of many Observations? as if from his regarding the Search as a Collection, it were to be concluded I had no other Design.

I say no more then, but hope this Example may keep Men from judging without examining. I have ta∣ken the three first Pages of his Book, and have not given my self the liberty of chusing, which ought to be consider'd; yet I intend not this for an Answer, remembring the obligation I have laid on my self at the end of the preceding Preface; and I had rather those who think I have not satisfied the Animadversions, because I have answer'd but three Chapters at length, should say, this Book whereof I answer but three Pages, re∣mains without Reply, than weary the World with Answers, which tend only to the justifyng other Replies.

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

CHAP. I.

Of the Nature and Original of Passions in general.

THE Mind of Man has two essential or necessary Relations extreamly different; the one to God, and the other to its Body. As mere Mind, it is essentially united to the Di∣vine Word, the Eternal Wisdom and Truth; since it is only by that Union that 'tis ca∣pable of thinking, as is proved in the Third Book. As a humane Mind, it has an es∣sential Relation to its Body, since it is by Virtue of that Union that it imagines and perceives by its Senses, as is explained in the First and Second Book. We call the Mind Sense or Imagina∣tion, when the Body is the natural or occasional Cause of its Thoughts: and we call it Under∣standing, when it acts by it self, or rather, when God acts in it, or his Light illuminates it seve∣ral different ways, without a necessary Relation to what is done in the Body.

It's even so with the Will of man; as a Will, it essentially depends on the Love that God bears to himself, on the Eternal Law, and in short on the Will of God. It is only because God loves himself, that we love any thing; for if God did not love himself, or did not continually influence the Soul of man with a Love like his own; that is, with the Motion of Love, which a Man feels in himself for Good in general; we should love nothing, we should will nothing, and consequently should be destitute of Will; since Will is nothing else but that Impression of Nature that carries us towards Good in general, as hath been said several times * 1.23.

But the Will, considered as the Will of Man, essentially depends upon the Body, since it is by reason of the Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits, that it feels its self affected with all its sensible Commotions. And therefore I have called Natural Inclinations all the Motions, which the Soul has common with pure Intelligences, together with some in which the Body hath a great Share, but of which it is only the indirect Cause and End, and I have explained them in the fore∣going Book.—Here I understand by Passions, All the Motions which naturally affect the Soul, on occasion of the extraordinary Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits. And so shall these sensi∣ble Commotions be the Subject of this Book.

Though the Passions be inseparable from the Inclinations, and Men be only susceptible of a sen∣sible Love and Hatred, because they are capable of a Spiritual Love and Hatred; however it was though fit to treat of them separately, in order to prevent Confusion. For if it be considered, That the Passions are far stronger and livelyer than the Natural Inclinations; that they have for the most part other Objects, and are always produced by different Causes: it will be granted, That we do not distinguish, without Reason, things that are inseparable in their own Nature.

Men are capable of Sensations and Imaginations only because they are capable of pure Intellecti∣ons, the Senses and Imagination being inseparable from the Mind; and yet none finds fault with those that distinctly treat of those Faculties of the Soul, which are naturally inseparable.

Last of all, the Senses and Imagination differ not more from the pure Understanding, than the Passions from the Inclinations. And therefore as the three first Faculties use to be distinguished, so ought also the two last; that we may the better distinguish what the Soul receives from its Au∣thor, with Relation to its Body, from that which it also has from him, but without that Relation.

The only Inconveniency that may grow out of the distinction of two things so naturally united, is the necessity of repeating some things that had been said before, as is usual in the like occasions.

Man is one, though he be Compounded of several parts, and the union of those parts is so intimate, that one of them cannot be affected without a Commotion of the whole. All his

Faculties are linked together, and so subordinated, that it is impossible to explain some of them, without touching upon the others. So that when we labour to find out a Method to prevent Con∣fusion, we necessarily fall into Repetitions: but 'tis better to repeat, than not to be Methodical, because we ought above all to be plain and intelligible; and therefore whatever we can doe in this occasion, is to repeat, if possible, without wearying the Reader.

The Passions of the Soul are Impressions of the Author of Nature, which incline us to love our Body▪ and whatever is useful for its preservation: As the natural Inclinations are Impressions of the same Author, that principally move us to love him as the Sovereign Good.

The natural or occasional Cause of these Impressions is the Motion of the Animal Spirits, which disperse through the Body, to produce and maintain in it a disposition suitable to the Object per∣ceiv'd, that the Mind and Body may in that conjuncture mutually help each other. For 'tis the Institution of God that our Willings be attended with such Motions of our Body, as are fit to put them in execution; and that the Motions of our Body which Machinally rise in us, at the per∣ception of some Object, be follow'd with a Passion of the Soul, that inclines us to will what seems at that time profitable to the Body. It is the continual Impression of the Will of God upon us, that keeps us so strictly united to a portion of matter; for if that Impression of his Will should cease but a moment, we should instantly be rid of the Dependency upon our Body, and all the Changes it undergoes.

For I cannot understand what some people imagine, that there is a necessary Connection betwixt the Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits, and the Commotions of the Soul. Some small Par∣ticles of Choler violently move in the Brain, must therefore the Soul be agitated with some Passi∣on, and must that Passion be Anger rather than Love? What Relation can there be conceived be∣twixt the Idea of an Enemy's Imperfections, the Passion of Contempt or Hatred, and the Corpo∣real Motion of some Particles of the Blood, that beat against some parts of the Brain? How they can imagine that the one depend upon the other, and that the Union or Connection of two things so distant, and so incompatible, as the Mind and Matter, can be caused and preserved any other∣wise, than by the continual and Almighty Will of the Author of Nature, is to me unconceivable.

Those that suppose that Bodies necessarily and by themselves communicate their Motion to each other, in the instant of their concourse, make but a probable supposition? neither is their preju∣dice altogether groundless, since Bodies seem to have an Essential Relation to Bodies. But the Mind and Body are two sorts of Beings so opposite, that those who think that the Commotions of the Soul necessarily follow upon the Motion of the Blood and Animal Spirits, do it without the least probability. For nothing but our own Consciousness of the Union of those two Beings, and the Ignorance of the continual Operations of God upon his Creatures, can make us imagine another Cause of the Union of our Soul and Body, than the Will of God.

It is hard to determine, whether that Union or Connection of the thoughts of the Mind of Man, with the Motions of his Body, is a punishment of Sin, or a Gift of Nature. And some persons believe it a rash and imprudent Attempt to chuse one of these Opinions rather than the other. It is well known, that Man before his Sin was not a Slave, but absolute Master of his Passions, and that he could, merely by his Will, stop at his pleasure, the Agitation of the Blood that caused them. But we can hardly persuade our selves that the Body did not importune the Soul of the first Man to find out such things as were fit for the preservation of his Life: We can scarce believe but Adam before his Sin found Fruits pleasant to the sight and grateful to the Taste, if we rightly consider the words of the Holy Scripture; nor shall we come to think that the Oeconomy of the Senses and Passions, which is so wonderfully contrived and adapted to the pre∣servation of the Body, is a Corruption of Nature, instead of its Original Institution.

Doubtless Nature is at this present corrupted: the Body acts too violently upon the Mind: and whereas it ought only to make an humble Representation of its wants to the Soul, it domi∣neers over her, takes her off from God, to whom she ought to be inseparably united, and conti∣nually applies her to the search of such sensible things, as tend to its preservation. She is grown as it were material and terestrial ever since her Fall; the Essential Relation and Union that she had with God being broken, that is to say, God being withdrawn from her, as much as he could be without her destruction and annihilation. A thousand disorders have attended the absence or de∣parture of him that preserv'd her in Order; and without making a longer Enumeration of our Mi∣series, I freely confess that Man since his Fall is corrupted in all his parts.

That Fall however has not quite destroyed the Work of God; for we can still discover in Man, what God at first put in him; and his immutable Will, that constitutes the Nature of every thing, was not changed by the Inconstancy and Fickleness of the Will of Adam. Whatever God has once will'd he still wills, and because his Will is efficatious, brings it to pass. The Sin of Man was indeed the Occasion of that Divine Will, that makes the Dispensation of Grace, but Grace is not contrary to Nature; neither do they destroy each other; since God is not opposed to himself, that he never repents, and that his Wisdom being without Limits, his Works will be without End.

And therefore the Will of God, that constitutes the Dispensation of Grace, is superadded to that which makes the Oeconomy of Nature, in order to repair and not to change it. There are then in God but these two general Wills, and the Laws by which he governs the World depend on one or other of them. It will plainly appear, by what follows, that the Passions are very well order'd, if considered only in reference to the Preservation of the Body, though they deceive us in some very rare and particular Occasions, which the universal Cause did not think fit to remedy.

Thence I conclude, That the Passions belong to the Order of Nature, since they cannot be ranked under the Order of Grace.

'Tis true, that seeing the Sin of the first man has deprived us of the Help of an always-present God, and always ready to defend us; It may be said, That Sin is the Cause of our ex∣cessive adhesion to sensible things, because Sin has estranged us from God, by whom alone we can be rid of our Slavery.

But without insisting longer upon the Enquiry after the first Cause of the Passions let us ex∣amine their Extent, their particular Nature, their End, their Use, their Defects, and whatever they comprehend.

CHAP. II.

Of the Vnion of the Mind with sensible things; or of the Force and Extent of the Passions in general.

IF all those who read this Work would be at the pains to reflect upon what they feel within themselves; it would not be necessary to insist upon our Dependency upon all sensible Ob∣jects. I can say upon this Head but what every one knows as well as I do, if he will but think on it; and was therefore very much inclined to pass it over. But Experience having taught me, That Men often forget themselves so far, as not to think or be aware of what they feel, nor to en∣quire into the Reason of what passes in their own Mind; I thought it fit to propose some Consi∣derations that may help them to reflect upon it. And even I hope, That those who know such things will not think their Reading ill bestowed: for though we do not care to hear simply re∣hearsed what we very well know, yet we use to be affected with Pleasure at the hearing of what we know and feel together.

The most honourable Sect of Philosophers, of whose Opinions many Pretenders boast still now a-days, will persuade us, That it is in our power to be happy. The Stoicks * 1.24 con∣tinually say, We ought only to depend upon our selves; we ought not to be vexed for the Loss of Dignities, Estates, Friends, Relations; we ought to be always calm and without the least Disturbance whatever happens; Banishment, Injuries, Affronts, Diseases, and even Death are no Evils, and ought not to be feared, and a thousand Paradoxes of that Nature, which we are apt enough to believe; both because of our Pride, that makes us affect Independency, as that because Reason teaches us that most part of the Evils, which really afflict us, would not be able to disturb us, if all things remained in good Order.

But God has given us a Body, and by that Body united us to all sensible things: Sin has sub∣jected us to our Body, and by our Body made us dependent upon all sensible things. It is the Or∣der of Nature, it is the Will of the Creatour, that all the Beings that he has made should hang together: And therefore being united to all things, and the Sin of the first Man having made us dependent on all Beings, to which God had only united us: there is now none but he is at once united and subjected to his Body, and by his Body to his Relations, Friends, City, Prince, Coun∣try, Cloaths, House, Estate, Horse, Dog, to all the Earth, to the Sun, the Stars, and the Heavens.

It's then ridiculous to tell Men, that it is in their power to be happy, wise, and free: It is to jeer them, seriously to advise them they ought not to be afflicted for the Loss of their Friends or Estates. For as it were absurd to exhort Men not to feel Pain when they are beaten, or not to be sensible of Pleasure when they eat with an Appetite; so the Stoicks are either unreasonable, or not in good earnest, when they cry, That we ought not to be sorry for the Death of our Father, the Loss of our Goods, our Banishment, Imprisonment, and the like; nor to be glad of the hap∣py Success of our Affairs: since we are united to our Country, Goods, Friends, &c. by a Natural Union, which at present has no dependence on our Will. I grant that Reason teaches us, we are to undergo Banishment without Sorrow: but the same Reason likewise teaches us we ought to endure the cutting off our Arm without Pain; because the Soul is superiour to the Body, and that, according to the light of Reason, her happiness or misery ought not to depend upon it: but 'tis ridiculous to argue against Experience, which in this occasion will convince us that things are not so, as our Reason intimates they ought to be.

The Philosophy of the Christians is quite different from that; they deny not but Pain is an Evil, and that it is hard to be separated from those things to which Nature has united us, or to rid our selves from the Slavery Sin has reduc'd us to. They agree that it is a Disorder that the Soul shall depend upon her Body, but they own withall that she depends upon it, and even so much that she cannot free her self from that Subjection but by the Grace of our Lord. I see,* 1.25 saith St. Paul, another Law in my Members warring against the Law of my Mind, and bringing me into Captivity to the Law of Sin, which is in my Members. O wretched Man that I am! who shall de∣liver me from the Body of this Death? the Grace of God through Jesus Christ our Lord shall do it. The Son of God, his Apostles and all his true Disciples command us above all to be Patient, be∣cause they know that Mis••ry must be the Expect••tion and Portion of the Righteous. In short, true Christians or true Philosophers, say nothing but what is agreeable to sound Reason and Experience; whereas all Nature continually impugns the proud Opinion and presumption of the Stoicks.

The Christians know that to free themselves in some manner from the Subjection they are under, they must endeavour to deprive themselves of all those things that they cannot enjoy without Plea∣sure, nor want without Pain; it being the only means to preserve that Peace and Liberty of Mind, which they owe to their Deliverer's Beneficence. On the contrary the Stoicks, following the false Notions of their Chimerical Philophy, imagine that they are wise and happy, and that they need but think upon Vertue and Independency, to become Vertuous and Independent. Sound Reason and Experience assure us, that the best way not to feel the smart of stinging is to shun the Nettle: but the Stoicks say,

Sting me never so much, I shall by the strength of my Mind, and the help of my Philosophy, raise my self so high above my Body, that all your pricking shall not reach me. I can demonstrate that my Happiness depends not upon it, and that Pain is not an Evil; and you shall see by the Colour of my Face, and by the whole deportment of my Body, that my Philosophy has made me invulnerable.

Their Pride bears up their Courage, however it hinders not but that they should suffer Pain with Vexation, and be really miserable; so that their Union with their Body is not destroyed, nor their Pain vanished; but all this proceeds from their Union with other Men, strengthened by the desire of their Esteem, which in some manner withstands the Union of their Soul with their Bo∣dy. The sensible view of the Spectators, to whom they are united, stops the Course of the Ani∣mal Spirits that should follow upon the pain, and blots out the Impression they would make up∣on their Face; for was there no body to look on them, that Phantasm of Constancy and Liberty of Mind would presently vanish: So that the Stoicks do only in some degree withstand the Union of their Soul to their Body, by making themselves greater Slaves to other Men, to whom they are united by a drift of Glory. And 'tis therefore an undoubted truth, that all Men are united to all sensible things, both by Nature and their Concupiscence; which may sufficiently be known by Experience, and of which all the Actions of Mankind are sensible demonstrations, though Rea∣son seems to oppose it.

Though this Union be common to all Men, 'tis not however of an equal Extent and Strength in all; for as it proceeds from the Knowledge of the Mind; so it may be said that we are not actually united to unknown Objects. A Clown in his Cottage does not concern himself with the Glory of his Prince and Country, but only with the honour of his own and the Neighbouring Villages; because his Knowledge does not extend farther.

The Union with such Objects as we have seen, is stronger than the Union to those we have only imagin'd, or heard relation of; because by Sensation we are more strictly united to sensible things, as leaving deeper Impressions in our Brain, and moving the animal Spirits in a more vio∣lent manner, than when they are only imagin'd.

Neither is that Union so strong in those that continually oppose it, that they may adhere to the Goods of the Mind, as it is in those who suffer themselves to be carried away and inslav'd by their Passions, since Concupiscence increases and strengthens that Union.

Last of all, the several Employments and States of this Life, together with the various disposi∣tions of divers Persons, cause a considerable difference in that sensible Union which Men have with Earthly Goods: Great Lords have greater Dependencies than other Men, and their Chains, as I may call them, are longer. The General of an Army depends on all his Souldiers, because all his Souldiers reverence him. This Slavery is often the Cause of his Valour; and the desire of being esteem'd by those that are Witnesses of his Actions, often drives him to Sacrifice to it more sensible and rational desires. The same may be said of all Superiours, and those that make a great Figure in the World, Vanity being many times the Spur of their Vertue, because the love of Glo∣ry is ordinarily stronger than the love of Truth. I speak here of the love of Glory, not as a simple Inclination but a Passion, since that love may become sensible, and is often attended with very lively and violent Commotions of the Animal Spirits.

Again the different Ages and Sexes are primary Causes of the difference of Passions. Children love not the same things as adult and old Men, or at least love them not with that Force and Constancy. Women depend only on their Family and Neighbourhood; but the dependencies of Men extend to their whole Country, because 'tis their part to defend it; and that they are mightily taken up with those great Offices, Honours and Commands, that the State may bestow upon them.

There is such a variety in the Employments and Engagements of Men, that it is impossible to explain them all. The disposition of Mind in a Married Man is altogether different from that of a single Person; for the former is in a manner wholly taken up with the care of his Family. A Fryar has a Soul of another make, and depends upon fewer things than the Men of the World, and even than Secular Ecclesiasticks, but he is stronger fastned to those few things. One may argue in the same manner concerning the different States of Men in general, but the little sensi∣ble engagements cannot be explain'd, because they differ almost in every private Person; it of∣ten hapning that men have particular Engagements altogether opposite to those that they ought to have in reference to their condition. But though the different Genius and Inclinations of Men, Women, Old Men, Young Men, Rich, Poor, Learned, and Ignorant, in short of all the different Sexes, Ages and Conditions, might be fully treated of in general; yet they are too well known by those that are conversant with the World, and of all the thinking part of Man∣kind, to increase with them the Bulk of this Book; especially, seeing that our Eyes may afford us a very pleasant and solid Instruction of all such matters. But if any chuse to read them in Greek, rather than to learn them by his own reflection on what he sees, I refer him to the second

Book of the Rhetoricks of Aristotle; which I take to be the Master-Piece of that Philosopher; because he says there few things, in which he can be mistaken; and that he seldom ventures to prove what he asserts.

It is therefore evident that the sensible Union of the Mind of Men, with whatever has any Re∣lation to the preservation of their Life, or of the Society of which they are Members, differs in different Persons; reaching farther in those that have more Knowledge, that are in a higher Sta∣tion, and are indued with a larger Fancy; whereas that Union is stricter and stronger in those that are more sensible, that have a livelyer Imagination, and have more blindly given up themselves to the violence of their Passions.

Such Considerations upon the almost infinite Bands that fasten Men to sensible Objects, are of an extraordinary Use; and the best way to become a great proficient in this sort of Learning, is the study and observation of our selves; since from the Inclinations and Passions, of which we are conscious in our selves, we can be fully assur'd of all the inclinations of other Men, and can make a good guess at a great part of the Passions they are subject to: to which adding the Information we can get of their particular Exgagements, and of the different Judgments that follow from eve∣ry different Passion, of which we shall speak hereafter; it may perhaps not prove so hard a Task to guess most part of their Actions, as it is for an Astronomer to foretell an Eclipse. For though Men be free, yet it seldom happens that they make use of their Liberty, in opposition to their na∣tural Inclinations and violent Passions.

Before the Close of this Chapter I must observe, that it is one of the Laws of the Union of the Soul and Body, that all the Inclinations of the Soul, even those she has for Goods, that have no relation to the Body, should be attended with Commotions of the Animal Spirits, that render those Inclinations sensible; because Man being not a pure Spirit, it is impossible he should have any Inclination altogether pure, and without mixture of any Passion whatsoever. So that the love of Truth, Justice, Vertue, of God himself, is always attended by some Motion of the Animal Spi∣rits that render that love sensible, though we be not aware of their sensibility, being then taken up with livelyer Sensations. Just as the Knowledge of Spiritual things is always accompanied with traces on the Brain, which indeed make that Knowledge more lively, but commonly more confused: 'Tis true we are frequently inapprehensive of the Imagining Faculty's mixing in any manner with the Conception of an abstracted Truth. The Reason of it is, that those Truths are not represented by Images, or traces of Nature's Institution, and that all the traces that raise such Ideas, have no Relation with them, but such as proceeds from Chance, or the Free-will of Men. For Instance, Arithmeticians and Algebraists, who apply themselves to very abstracted Objects, make however a very great use of their Imagination, in order to fix the view of their Mind upon these Spiritual Ideas. The Cyphers, the Letters of the Alphabet, and the other Figures which they see or imagine, are always join'd to those Ideas, though the traces that are wrought by these Characters have no proper Relation to those abstracted Objects, and so can neither change nor ob∣scure them: Whence follows, that by a proper Use and Application of these Cyphers and Letters, they come to discover such remote and difficult Truths, as could not be found out otherwise.

Since therefore the Ideas of such things as are only perceivable by the pure Understanding, can be connected with the traces of the Brain, and that the sight of Objects that are beloved, hated or fear'd by a Natural Inclination, can be attended with the Motion of the Animal Spirits; it plain∣ly appears, that the thoughts of Eternity, the fear of Hell, the hope of an Eternal Happiness, though they be Objects never so insensible, can however raise in us very violent Passions.

And therefore we can say that we are united in a sensible manner, not only to such things as relate to the preservation of our Life, but also to Spiritual things, with which the Mind is im∣mediately, and by it self united. And even it often happens, that Faith, Charity, and Self-Love, make that Union with Spiritual things stronger, than that by which we are join'd to all sensible Objects. The Soul of the true Martyrs is more united to God, than to their Body; and those that suffer Death for asserting a false Religion, which they believe to be true, give us sufficiently to know, that the fear of Hell has more power upon them than the fear of Death. There is for the most part so much heat and obstinacy on both sides, in the Wars of Religion, and the defence of Superstitions, that it cannot be doubted but some Passion has a hand in it; and even a Passion far stronger and stedfaster than others, because it is kept up by an Appearance of Reason, both in such as are deceived, and in those that follow the Truth.

We are then united by our Passions to whatever seems to be the Good or the Evil of the Mind, as well as to that which we take for the Good or Evil of the Body. Whatever can be known to have any relation to us can affect us, and of all the things we know, there is not one but it has some reference or other to us. We are somewhat concern'd even for the most abstracted Truths, when we know them; because there is at least that Relation of Knowledge betwixt them and our Mind, and that in some manner we look on them as our Property, by virtue of that Know∣ledge. We feel our selves as wounded when they are impugned; and if we be wounded, then sure∣ly we are affected and disturb'd. So that the Passions have such a vast and comprehensive Do∣minion, that it is impossible to conceive any thing in reference to which it may be said, that Men are exempt from their Empire. But let's now see what is their Nature, and endeavour to disco∣ver whatever they comprehend.

CHAP. III.

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

SEven things may be distinguished in each of our Passions, save Admiration only, which is in∣deed but an Imperfect Passion.

The first is the Judgment the Mind makes of an Object, or rather the confused or distinct View of the Relation that Object has to us.

The second is a New Determination of the Motion of the Will towards that Object, provided it be or seem to be a Good. Before that View, the Natural Motion of the Soul was either undetermin'd, that is to say, she was carried towards Good in general, or it otherwise deter∣mined by the knowledge of some particular Object. But in the very instant of the mind's per∣ceiving that Relation of the new Object to it self, that general Motion of the Will is forthwith determin'd, conformably to the perception of the Mind. The Soul advances near that Object by her Love, that she may relish it, and discover her good in it, through a sensible delectation which the Author of Nature affords her, as a Natural Reward of her Inclination to Good. She judged that that Object was a Good by an abstracted and unpathetick Reason, but she persists in the per∣suasion of it, through the Efficacy of Sensation; and the livelyer that Sensation is, the stronger is her adhesion to the Good that seems to be the Cause of it.

But if that particular Object be considered as Evil, or able to deprive us of some Good, there happens no New Determination in the Motion of the Will; but only the Motion towards the Good, oppos'd to that seemingly evil Object, is augmented: which augmentation is greater or les∣••er, as the Evil seems to be more or less formidable to us. For indeed we hate only because we love, and the Evil that is without us is judg'd no farther Evil, than with reference to the Good of which it deprives us: So that Evil being consider'd as a privation of Good, to fly from Evil is to fly the privation of Good, which is the same thing as to tend towards Good; and therefore there happens no new determination of the Natural Motion of the Will, at the presence of an unwel∣come Object; but only a Sensation, painful, distasteful or imbitter'd, which the Author of Nature inflicts on the Soul, as a pain naturally consequent to her being depriv'd of Good. * 1.26 Reason alone had not been sufficient to carry her to it, wherefore this painful and vexing Sensation is super∣added to quicken her. Thence I conclude, that in any Passion whatsoever, all the Motions of the Soul towards Good, are the Motions of Love. But as we are affected with divers Sensations, ac∣cording to the various Circumstances that attend the View of Good, and the Motion of the Soul towards it; so we come to confound our Sensations with the Commotions of the Soul, and to imagine as many different Motions in the Passions, as there are different Sensations.

Upon this head it must be observed that Pain is a true and real Evil, and no more the Privation of Pleasure, than Pleasure the Privation of Pain: for there is a great difference betwixt not feel∣ing or being depriv'd of such a Sensation of Pleasure, and the actual enduring of Pain: So that every Evil is not precisely so, because it deprives us of Good, but only that Evil, as I have ex∣plain'd, that is without us, or is not a Modification of our Soul. Nevertheless as by Goods and Evils we commonly understand things good or evil, and not the Sensations of Pleasure and Pain, which are rather the natural Tokens by which the Soul distinguishes Good from Evil; it may be said methinks without Equivocation, that Evil is nothing but the privation of Good, and that the natural motion of the Soul, that removes us from Evil, is the same with that which carries us to good; for in brief, all natural Motion being an Impression of the Author of Nature, whose acting centers in himself, and who can incline us only towards himself: The true Motion of the Soul is always essentially the Love of Good, and but accidentally an Aversion from Evil.

I grant that Pain may be consider'd as an Evil, and in that sense the Motion of the Passions, which is stir'd up by it, is not real, since we never will Pain; and though we positively will the absence of Pain, yet 'tis only because we positively will the Preservation or Perfection of our Being.

The third thing to be observ'd in every Passion is the Sensation that attends them; the Sensation of Love, Hatred, Desire, Joy, Sorrow, which are all different in the different Passions.

The fourth thing is a new Determination of the course of the Animal Spirits and Blood to the outward and inward parts of the Body. Before the View of the Object of the Passion, the vital Spirits were dispers'd throughout the whole Body, for the preservation of all its parts in general; but at the appearance of that new Object, all this Order and Oeconomy is disturb'd, and most part of the Spirits are thrown into the Muscles of the Arms, Legs, Face, and other exteriour parts of the Body, to put them in a disposition suitable to the ruling Passion, and to give it such a gesture and motion, as are necessary for the obtaining or avoiding the imminent Good or Evil: But if its own Forces are insufficient for its occasions, these same Spirits are distributed in such a manner as make it machinally utter certain words and cries; and which diffuse over the Face and the rest of the Body, such an air and comportment, as is capable of actuating others with the same Passion

it self is possess'd with. For Men and Beasts having a mutual cohesion by the Eyes and Ears, when any one of them is in a violent Commotion, it necessarily affects the Spectators and Hea∣rers, and naturally makes upon their Imagination such an Impression as troubles them, and moves them to preserve it.

As to the rest of the Animal Spirits, they violently descend into the Heart, Lungs, Liver, Spleen, and other Viscera, thence to draw contributions, and to hasten those parts to send forth a sufficient and timely supply of Spirits, necessary to preserve the Body in that extraordinary Con∣tention.

The fifth thing is a sensible Commotion of the Soul, who feels her self agitated by an unex∣pected overflow of Spirits. This sensible Commotion of the Soul always attends that Motion of the Spirits, that the Soul may participate of all that affects the Body; even as the Motion of Spirits is raised in the Body, when the Soul is carried toward any Object. For the Body and Soul being mutually united, their Motions are reciprocal.

The sixth thing are several Sensations of Love, Hatred, Joy, Desire, Sorrow, that are produ∣ced, not by the Intellectual view of Good or Evil, as those that have been already mention'd, but by the various concussions that are caused in the Brain by the Animal Spirits.

The seventh thing is a certain Sensation of Joy, or rather internal Satisfaction, which detains the Soul in her Passion, and assures her that she is in the fittest State she can be, in reference to the Object she considers. This internal satisfaction attends all the Passions whatsoever, whether they proceed from the sight of an Evil, or from the sight of a Good, Sorrow as well as Joy. This satisfaction makes all the Passions pleasant, and induces us to yield our consent, and give up our selves to them; and 'tis that satisfaction which must be overcome by the Delights of Grace, and the Comforts of Faith and Reason. For as the Joy of the Mind is the result of a certain or evi∣dent Knowledge that we are in the best state that can be in relation to the Objects perceiv'd by the Understanding; so the pleasantness of the Passions is a natural consequence of that confused Sensation we have of being in the best state we can be in reference to those things we perceive by our Senses. Now 'tis by the Joy of the Mind, and the Comforts of Grace, that the false de∣light of the Passions, which makes us Slaves to sensible Goods, must be vanquished.

All the forementioned things are to be found in all the Passions, unless they be raised by con∣fused Sensations, and that the Mind perceive not the Good or Evil from whence they proceed; for then 'tis plain that they have not the three first qualifications. It likewise appears that all these things are not free, since they are in us without our Consent, and even against it since the Sin; but that the Consent of our Will is the only thing which is really in our power. However it will be fit to explain all these things more at large, and to make them more sensible by some Instances.

Let us suppose a Man to whom an Affront has been actually offer'd, or one whose Imagination is either naturally strong and lively, or over-heated by some Accident, as a Disease or a Surfeit of Sorrow and Melancholy. This Man in his Closet fancies that such a one, who perhaps does not think upon him, is willing and ready to wrong him. The sensible View, or the Imagination of the Opposition betwixt the Actions of his Enemy and his own designs, will be the first Cause of his Passion.

That the Motion of this Man's Will may acquire some new determination, it is not absolute∣ly necessary that he should receive, or imagine he receives any Affront; for 'tis sufficient that his Mind only should think on it, without his Body's being concern'd in it. However as this new determination would not be the determination of a Passion, but only a most weak and languishing Inclination: 'Tis better to suppose that some great opposition is actually made to this Man's Designs, or that he strongly fancies that it will be so; than to make another Supposition, where∣in the Senses and Imagination are little or not at all concern'd.

The second thing to be consider'd in this Man's Passion, is an increase of the Motion of his Will towards that Good, of which his real or pretended Enemy endeavours to deprive him: the stronger the opposition is, or appears, the more considerable will be the increase. He at first hates his Adversary, only because he loves that Good, and his Hatred against him grows in pro∣portion to his Love for it; because the Motion of the Will in the Passion of Hatred is at bottom nothing else but a Motion of Love; that Motion of the Soul towards Good not differing from that by which she avoids its Privation, as has been already observ'd.

The third thing is a Sensation suitable to that Passion; in our Instance 'tis a Sensation of Ha∣tred. But though the Motion of Hatred be the same with that of Love, yet the Sensation of Hatred is altogether different from that of Love, as any one may experience in himself. Motions are Actions of the Will, but Sensations are Modifications of the Mind. The Motions of the Will are natural Causes of the Sensations of the Mind; and these Sensations of the Mind reciprocally encourage and keep up the Motions of the Will in their Determination. The Sensation of Hatred is in the Man before us, the natural result of the Motion of his Will, excited upon the view of Evil, and this Motion is afterwards maintained by the Sensation it hath produced.

What we have just now said of this Man might happen to him, though he had not a Body. But because he's made up of two Substances naturally united, the Motions of his Soul are com∣municated to his Body, and those of his Body to his Soul; so that the new Determination, or the increase of the Motion of his Will, naturally causes a new Determination in the Motion of the Animal Spirits, which is always different in all the Passions, though the Motion of the Soul be still almost the same.

The Spirits therefore are violently driven into the Arms, Legs and Face, to dispose the Body in a manner adapted to the Passion, and to shed over the Face the Look of an injured Person, with reference to all the Circumstances of the Injury receiv'd, and to the Quality and Capacity both of the Agent and Patient. That Expansion of the Spirits is so much the more strong, abundant and quick, as the Good is greater, the Opposition more vehement, and the Brain livelyer affected.

And therefore if the Person whereof we speak only imagine himself injur'd, or if he receive a real but slight injury, that makes no considerable concussion in the Brain, the Expansion of the Animal Spirits will prove weak and languishing, and perhaps insufficient to alter the natural and ordinary Disposition of the Body. But if the Outrage be exceeding great, or the Imagination en∣flam'd, the Brain will be extraordinarily shaken, and the Spirits so violently dispers'd, that in a moment they will imprint on the Face and Body the Symptoms of the ruling Passion. If he be strong enough to obtain the Victory, his Countenance will be fierce and threatning. If weak and unable to withstand the overwhelming Evil, he will appear humble and submissive. His Moans and Tears naturally exciting in the Spectators, and even in his Enemy Motions of Pity, he will draw from thence those succours which he could not expect from his own strength. True it is, that if the Spirits and Fibres of the Brain, in the Spectators and Adversary of that unhappy Wretch, be already agitated with a violent Motion, contrary to that which breeds Compassion in the Soul, the bemoanings of the Distress'd will but increase their Fury; and so would his undoing be inevi∣table, should he always keep the same Countenance and Aspect. But Nature has provided for it, for at the sight of the imminent loss of a great good, there are naturally produced on the Face such strange and surprizing Characters of Rage and Despair, as to disarm the most Barbarous Ene∣mies, and to make them as it were unmovable. That frightfull and unexpected sight of the Li∣neaments of Death, drawn by the Hand of Nature upon the Face of an unfortunate Person, stops in the very Enemy, stricken therewith, the Motions of the Spirits and Blood, that carried him to Revenge; and in that favourable moment of Audience, Nature printing again an humble submis∣sive air upon the Face of the poor Wretch, that begins to entertain some hopes, because of the unmovableness, and alteration of the Countenance, of his Enemy, the Animal Spirits of that E∣nemy receive a new determination, of which they were not capable a moment before; and this Machinal Motion of Compassion which he yields to, inclines the Soul to yield to the Pleas of Charity and Mercy.

Because a Man taken up with a Passion cannot, without a great plenty of Spirits, produce or preserve in his Brain an Image of his Misery lively enough, nor a Concussion sufficiently strong, to give his Body an extraordinary and constrain'd Disposition: the corresponding Nerves within the Body receive upon his sight of the Evil, the Concussions and Agitations that are necessary to infuse, into all the Vessels that communicate with the Heart, fit Humours, to the producing such Spirits as the Passion requires. For the Animal Spirits spreading through the Nerves that go to the Liver, Spleen, Pancreas, and all the other Viscera, agitate and shake them, and by their Agi∣tation force out such Humours as those parts keep in reserve, for the Wants and Exigencies of the Machine.

But if those Humours always flowed in the same manner into the Heart; if they received an equal Fermentation in different times, and the Spirits, that are made of them, regularly ascend∣ed into the Brain, we should not see such hasty Changes in the Motions of the Passions. For instance, the sight of a Magistrate would not stop, of a sudden, the extravagant Transports of an enraged Person, persuing his Revenge; and his Face, all fiery with Blood and Spirits, would not in an instant turn pale and wan for fear of Punishment.

So, to hinder those Humours that are mixed with the Blood from entering the Heart constant∣ly in the same manner, there are Nerves that surround all the Avenues thereof, which being com∣pressed or dilated by the Impression, that the sight of the Object, and the strength of the Imagi∣nation produce in the Spirits, shut up or open the way to those Humours. And lest the said Hu∣mours should undergo the same Agitation and Fermentation in the Heart in divers times; there are other Nerves that cause the Beatings of it, which being not equally agitated in the different Motions of the Spirits, drive not the Blood with the same force into the Arteries. Other Nerves spread through the Lungs, distribute the Air to the Heart, by constringing or relaxing several Branches of the Trachea used in Respiration, and order the Fermentation of the Blood proportio∣nably to the Circumstances of the predominant Passion.

Last of all, to regulate with the greatest Accuracy and Readiness the Course of the Spirits, there are Nerves surrounding the Arteries, as well those that end in the Brain, as those that car∣ry the Blood into the other parts of the Body; so that the Concussion of the Brain, which accom∣panies the unexpected Sight of some Circumstance, for which 'tis convenient that the Motions of the Passion should be alter'd, suddenly determines the Course of the Spirits to the Nerves thus surrounding the Arteries; that by their Contraction they may shut up the Passage to the Blood that ascends into the Brain, and by their Dilatation lay it open to that which runs into all the other Parts of the Body.

When those Arteries that carry the Blood to the Brain are free and open; and on the contrary, those that disperse it through the rest of the Body are strongly bound up by these Nerves, the Head must all be full of Blood, and the Face appear all fiery; but some Circumstance altering the Commotion of the Brain, that caused that Disposition in the Nerves, the Arteries that were strait bound are loosened, and on the contrary, the Arteries of the Brain strongly contracted. Then is the Head emptied of Bloud, the Face covered with Paleness, and the small quantity of Blood,

which issues from the Heart, and which the Nerves before mentioned admit into it, as the Fewel to keep in Life, descends most or all into the lower parts of the Body; the Brain wants Animal Spirits, and all the rest of the Body is seized with Weakness and Trembling.

To explain and prove the Particulars of what we have mentioned, it would be necessary to give a general Knowledge of Physicks, and a particular of the Humane Body; but those two Sciences are still too imperfect to be treated of with as much Accuracy as I could Wish: besides that, should I proceed farther in this Matter, it would carry me too far from my Subject; and there∣fore I only design here to give a gross and general Idea of the Passions, and am satisfied, provided that this Idea be not false.

Those Concussions of the Brain, and Motions of the Blood and Spirits, are the fourth thing to be found in every Passion, and produce the fifth, namely the sensible Commotions of the Soul.

At the very Instant that the Animal Sprits are driven from the Brain into the rest of the Body, to produce such Motions as are fit to keep up the Passion; the Soul is carried towards the good perceived: and this more or less strongly, according as the Spirits come down from the Brain with more or less vehemence; for 'tis that Concussion of the Brain which agitates the Soul and the Animal Spirits.

The Motion of the Soul towards Good is so much stronger, as the View of Good is more sensible and apparent; and the Motion of the Spirits that proceed from the Brain, and flow into the other parts of the Body, is the more violent, as the Vibration of the Fibres of the Brain, caused by the Impression of the Object or of the Imagination, is more forcible; because that Concussion of the Brain occasioning a more sensible and lively View of Good, necessarily makes the Commotion of the Soul in the Passions to increase proportionably to the Motion of the Spirits.

Those Commotions of the Soul are not different from those that immediately follow the In∣tellectual View of Good, which we have mentioned before: only they are stronger and livelyer, because of the Union of the Soul and Body, and the sensibleness of the View that produces them.

The sixth thing to be met with is the Sensation of the Passion; the Sensation of Love, Hatred, Desire, Joy or Sorrow▪ This Sensation is not at all different from that which has been spoken of; only 'tis livelyer, because the Body has a greater share in it: but 'tis always attended with confu∣sed Sensation of Satisfaction, that makes all the Passions grateful; which is the last thing to be found in each of them, as has been already hinted.

The Cause of this last Sensation is such; At the sight of the Object of a Passion, or of any new Circumstance, part of the Animal Spirits are driven from the Head to the outward Parts of the Body, to put it in the Disposition that the Passion requires; together with which some other Spirits make a violent descent into the Heart, Lungs, and other Viscera, to draw from thence the necessary Supplies, as has been already sufficiently explained. Now the Body is never in a convenient Sta••e, but the Soul relishes it with great Satisfaction; whereas it is never in a State con••rary to its Good and Preservation, but that she endures it with pain. And therefore when we follow the Motions of our Passions, and stop not the Course of the Spirits, which the View of the Object of the Passion produces in the Body, to put in it the most convenient State with rela∣tion to that Object, the Soul by Nature's Law is affected with a Sensation of Satisfaction and De∣light, because her Body is in the Disposition it requires: whereas when, according to the Laws of Reason, the Soul stops the Current of the Spirits, and withstands those Passions, she suffers a Pain proportionable to the Evil that may from thence arise to the Body.

For as the Reflection that the Soul makes upon her self is necessarily accompanied with the Joy or Sorrow of the Mind, and afterwards with the Joy or Sorrow of the Senses; when doing her Duty, and submitting to the Orders of God, she is conscious that she is in a due and convenient state; or when having given her self up to her Passions, she is afterwards affected with Remorse, which teaches her that she is in a corrupt Disposition: So the Course of the Spirits raised for the good of the Body, is first attended with sensible, and afterwards with Spiritual Joy or Sorrow, according as the Course of the Animal Spirits is retarded or promoted by the Will.

There is however this notable difference betwixt the Intellectual Joy that attends the clear Knowledge of the good Estate of the Soul, and the sensible Pleasure that accompanies the confu∣sed Sensation of the good disposition of the Body; that the intellectual Joy is solid and substan∣tial, without Remorse, and as immutable as its Original Cause, the Truth; whereas sensible Joy is almost ever followed with the Sorrow of the Mind, or the Remorse of the Conscience, and is as restless and fickle, as the Passion or Agitation of the Blood from whence it proceeds. To con∣clude, the first is for the most part attended with an exceeding Joy of the Senses when it is derived from the Knowledge of the great good that the Soul possesses; whereas the other is very rarely ac∣companied with any great Joy of the Mind, though it proceeds from a Good, considerable for the Body, but contrary to the Good or Perfection of the Soul.

'Tis nevertheless true, That without the Grace of our Lord, the satisfaction the Soul relishes when she gives her self up to her Passions is more grateful, than that which she enjoys when she follows the Rules of Reason; which satisfaction is the Source of all the Disorders that have at∣tended the Original Sin, and would have made us all Slaves to our Passions, had not the Son of God rid us from their Tyranny, by the Delectation of his Grace. For what I have said on behalf of the Joy of the Mind in opposition to the Joy of the Senses, is only true amongst the Christians, and was altogether false in the Mouths of Seneca, Epicurus, and all the most rational of the Hea∣then Philosophers; because the Yoke of Christ is only sweet to those that belong to him, and his Burthen only light▪ when his Grace helps us to support the Weight of it.

CHAP. IV.

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

ALL those general Qualities and Effects of the Passions, that we have hitherto treated of, are not free, they are in us without our Leave, and nothing but the Consent of our Will is wholly in our Power. The View or Apprehension of Good is naturally followed with a Motion of Love, a Sensation of Love, a Concussion of the Brain, a Motion of the Spirits, a new Com∣motion of the Soul that encreases the first Motion of Love, a new Sensation of the Soul, that likewise augments the first Sensation of Love; and lastly, a Sensation of Satisfaction which re∣compenses the Soul for the Bodies being in a convenient State. All this happens to the Soul and Body naturally and mechanally; that is, without her having any part in it, nothing but her Con∣sent being her own real Work. This Consent we must regulate, preserve, and keep free, in spite of all the Struggle and Attempts of the Passions. We ought to submit our Liberty to none but God, and to yield to nothing but to the Voice of the Author of Nature, to inward Evidence, and Conviction, and to the secret Reproaches of our Reason. We ought never to consent, but when we plainly see, we should make an ill Use of our Liberty, in with-holding our Consent. This is the principal Rule to be observ'd for the avoiding of Errour.

God only makes us evidently perceive, That we ought to yield to what he requires of us; to him alone therefore we ought to devote our Services. There is no Evidence in the Allurements and Caresses, in the Threats and Frightnings caused in us of the Passions; they are only confu∣sed and obscure Sensations, to which we must never yield up our selves. We must wait till all those false Glimpses of the Passions vanish, till a purer Light illuminates us, till God speaks in∣wardly to us. We must enter within our selves, and there seek him that never leaves us, that always enlightens us. He speaks low, but his Voice is distinct; his Light is weak, but pure. But no, his Voice is as strong as 'tis distinct, and his Light is as bright and active as 'tis pure. But our Passions continually keep us from home, and by their Noise and Darkness, hinder us from being instructed by his Voice, and illuminated by his Light. He speaks even to those that ask him no Questions; and those, whom Passions have carried farthest from him, fail not yet many times to hear some of his Words,* 1.27 but loud, threatning, astonishing Words, sharper than a two-edged Sword, piercing into the inmost Recesses of the Soul, and discerning the Thoughts and Designs of the Heart. For all things are open to his Eyes, and he cannot see the unruly Actions of Sinners, without lashing them inwardly with smarting Reproofs. We must then re-enter into our selves, and approach near him; we must interrogate him, listen to him, and obey him; for by always listning to him, we shall never be deceived; and always obeying him, we shall never be subject∣ed to the Inconstancy of the Passions, and the Miseries due to Sin.

We must not, like some pretenders to Wit, whom the Violence of Passion has reduced to the Condition of Beasts; who, having a long time despised the Law of God, seem at last to have retained no Knowledge of any other than that of their infamous Passions: We must not, I say, imagine, as do those Men of Flesh and Blood, that it is following God, and obeying the Voice of the Author of Nature, to give up our selves to the Motions of Passions, and to comply with the secret Desires of our Heart: This is the utmost possible Blindness; 'tis, according to St. Paul, the temporal Punishment of Impiety and Idolatry, that is to say, the Desert of the most enormous Crimes. And herein indeed the greatness of this terrible Punishment consists, that instead of allaying the Anger of God, as do all the others in this World, it continually exasperates and encreases it, till that dreadful Day comes, wherein his just Wrath shall break out to the Con∣fusion of Sinners.

Their Arguings however seem likely enough, as being agreeable to common Sense, countenanc'd by the Passions, and such, I am sure, as all the Philosophy of Zeno could never overthrow. We must love Good, say they; Pleasure is the Sign which Nature has affix'd to it to make it known, and that Sign can never be fallacious, since God has instituted it to distinguish Good from Evil. We must avoid Evil, say they again; Pain is the Character which Nature has annex'd to it, and a Token in which we cannot be mistaken; since it was instituted by God for the distinguishing it from Good. We feel Pleasure in complying with our Passions, Trouble and Pain in opposing them; and therefore the Author of Nature will have us to give up our selves to our Passions, and never to resist them, since the Pleasure and Pain wherewith he affects us in those Cases, are the infallible Criterion of his Will. And consequently, it is to follow God, to comply with the De∣sire of our Hearts; and 'tis to obey his Voice, to yield to the Instinct of Nature, which moves us to the satisfying our Senses and our Passions. This is their way of Reasoning, whereby they confirm themselves in their infamous Opinions: And thus they think to shun the secret Reproofs of their Reason; and in Punishment of their Crime God suffers them to be dazzled by those false Glimpses; delusive Glarings, which blind them instead of inlightning them, and strike them with such an insensible Blindness, as they do not so much as wish to be cured of it. God delivers

them to a reprobate Sense, he gives them up to the Desires of their corrupt Heart; to shameful Passions, to Actions unworthy of Men, as the Holy Scripture speaks, that having fatned them∣selves by their Debauches, they may to all Eternity be the fit Sacrifice of his Vengeance.

But let us solve this Difficulty which they offer. The Sect of Zeno, not knowing how to un∣tie the Knot, has cut it, by denying that Pleasure is a Good, and Pain an Evil: But that's too venturous a Stroke, and a Subterfuge unbecoming Philosophers, and very unlikely, I am sure, to convert those who are convinc'd by Experience, That a great Pain is a great Evil. Since there∣fore Zeno, and all his Heathen Philosophy, cannot solve the Difficulty of the Epicures, we must have recourse to a more solid and inlightned Philosophy.

'Tis true, that Pleasure is Good, and Pain Evil; and that Pleasure and Pain have been join'd by the Author of Nature to the Use of certain Things, by which we judge whether they are Good or Evil, which make us persue the Good and fly from the Evil, and almost ever follow the Mo∣tions of the Passions. All this is true, but relates only to the Body, which to preserve, and keep long a Life much like to that of Beasts, we must suffer our selves to be ruled by our Passions and Desires. The Senses and Passions are only given us for the good of the Body; sensible Pleasure is the indelible Character which Nature has affix'd to the Use of certain Things, that without putting our Reason to the trouble of examining them, we might presently imploy them for the preservation of the Body; but not with intent that we should love them: For we ought only to love those Things which Reason undoubtedly manifests to be our Good.

We are Reasonable Beings; and God, who is our Sovereign Good, requires not of us a blind, an instinctive, a compell'd Love, as I may say, but a Love of Choice, an enlightned Love, a Love that submits to him our whole Intellectual and Moral Powers. He inclines us to the Love of him, in shewing us by the Light that attends the Delectation of his Grace, that he is our Chief Good; but he moves us towards the Good of the Body only by Instinct and a confused Sensation of Pleasure, because the Good of the Body is undeserving of either the Attention of our Mind, or the Exercise of our Reason.

Moreover, our Body is not our selves; 'tis something that belongs to us, and, absolutely speaking, we cannot subsist without it: The Good of the Body therefore is not properly our Good; for Bodies can be but the Good of Bodies. We may make use of them for the Body, but we must not be taken up with them. Our Soul has also her own Good, viz. the only Good that is superiour to her, the only one that preserves her, that alone produces in her Sensations of Pleasure and Pain: For indeed none of the Objects of the Senses can of themselves give us any Sensation of them; it is only God who assures us of their Presence, by the Sensation he gives us of them; which is a Truth that was never understood by the Heathen Philosophers.

We may and must love that which is able to make us sensible of Pleasure, I grant it: But by that very Reason we ought only to love God, because he only can act upon our Soul; and the utmost that sensible Objects can do, is to move the Organs of our Senses. But what matters it, you'll say, from whence those grateful Sensations come? I will taste 'em. O thou ungrateful Wretch! know the Hand that showres down Good upon thee. You require of a just God unjust Rewards: You desire he should recompence you for the Crimes you commit against him, and even at the very time of committing them; you make use of his immutable Will, which is the Order and Law of Nature, to wrest from him undeserved Favours; for with a guilty Managery you produce in your Body such Motions as oblige him to make you relish all sorts of Pleasures. But Death shall dissolve that Body; and God, whom you have made subser∣vient to your unjust Desires, will make you subservient to his just Anger, and mock at you in his turn.

'Tis very hard, I confess, that the Enjoyment of Corporeal Good should be attended with Pleasure, and that the Possession of the Good of the Soul should often be conjoin'd with Pain and Anguish. We may indeed believe it to be a great Disorder, by this Reason, that Pleasure being the Character of Good, and Pain of Evil, we ought to possess a Satisfaction infinitely great∣er in loving God, than in making use of sensible Things; since He is the true, or rather the only Good of the Mind. So doubtless will it be one Day, and so was it most probably before Sin entred into the World: At least, 'tis very certain, that before the Fall Man suffered no Pain in discharging his Duty.

But God is withdrawn from us since the Fall of Adam; he is no more our Good by Nature, but only by Grace; we feel now no Delight and Satisfaction in the Love of him, and he rather thrusts us from, than draws us to him. If we follow him, he gives us a Rebuff; if we run af∣ter him, he strikes us; and if we be obstinate in our Persuit, he continues to handle us more se∣verely, by inflicting very lively and sensible Pains upon us. And when, being weary of walking through the rough and stony Ways of Vertue, without being supported by the Repast of Good, or strengthned by any Nourishment, we come to feed upon sensible Things, he fastens us to them by the relish of Pleasure, as though he would reward us for turning back from him, to run after counterfeit Goods. In short, since Men have sinn'd, it seems, God is not pleas'd that they should love him, think upon him, or esteem him their only and sovereign Good. It is only by the de∣lectable Grace of Christ our Mediator, that we sensibly perceive that God is our proper Good. For Pleasure being the sensible Mark of Good, we then perceive God to be our Good, when the Grace of our Redeemer makes us love him with Pleasure.

Thus the Soul not knowing her own Good, either by a clear View, or by Sensation, without the Grace of Jesus Christ, she takes the Good of the Body for her own; she loves it, and closes

to it with a stricter Adhesion by her Will, than ever she did by the first Institution of Nature. For Corporeal Good being now the only one left that is sensible, must needs operate upon Man with more Violence, strike his B••ain livelier, and consequently be felt and imagined by the Soul in a more sensible manner: And the Animal Spirits receiving a more vehement Agitation, the Will by consequence must love it with a greater Ardency and Pleasure.

The Soul might before Sin blot out of her Brain the too lively Image of Corporeal Good, and dissipate the sensible Pleasure this Image was attended with. The Body being subject to the Mind, the Soul might on a sudden stop the quavering Concussion of the Fibres of the Brain, and the Com∣motion of the Spirits, by the meer Consideration of her Duty: But she lost that Power by Sin. Those Traces of the Imagination, and those Motions of the Spirits, depend no more upon her; whence it necessarily follows, that the Pleasure, which by the Institution of Nature is conjoin'd to those Motions and Traces, must usurp the whole Possession of the Heart. * 1.28 Man cannot long resist that Pleasure by his own Strength; 'tis Grace that must obtain a perfect Victory; Reason alone can never doe it: None but God, as the Author of Grace, can overcome himself as the Au∣thor of Nature, or rather exorate himself as the Revenger of Adam's Rebellion.

The Stoicks, who had but a confused Knowledge of the Disorders of Original Sin, could not answer the Epicures. Their Felicity was but Ideal, since there is no Happiness without Pleasure, and no Pleasure to be sensibly perceiv'd by them in Vertuous Actions. They might feel indeed some Joy in following the Rules of their phantastick Vertue; because Joy is a natural Conse∣quence of the Consciousness our Soul has of being in the most convenient State. That Spiritual Joy might bear up their Spirits for a while, but was not strong enough to withstand Pain, and over∣come Pleasure. Secret Pride, and not Joy, made them keep their Countenance; for when no body was present, all their Wisdom and Strength vanished, just as Kings of the Stage lose all their Grandeur in a Moment.

It is not so with those Christians that exactly follow the Rules of the Gospel. Their Joy is solid, because they certainly know, that they are in the most convenient State: Their Joy is great, because the Good they possess through Faith and Hope is Infinite; for the Hope of a great Good is always attended with a great Joy; and that Joy is so much livelier, as the Hope is stronger; because a strong Hope representing the Good as present, necessarily produces Joy, as also that sen∣sible Pleasure which ever attends the Presence of Good. Their Joy is not restless and uneasie, because grounded on the Promises of God, confirm'd by the Blood of his Son, and cherished by that inward Peace and unutterable Sweetness of Charity, which the Holy Ghost sheds into their Hearts. Nothing can separate them from their true Good, which they relish and take Compla∣cency in by the Delectation of Grace. The Pleasures of Corporeal Good are not so great as those they feel in the Love of God. They love Contempt and Pain: They feed upon Disgraces, and the Pleasure they find in their Sufferings, or rather the Pleasure they find in God, for whom they despise all the rest, to unite themselves to him, is so ravishing and transporting, as to make them speak a new Language, and even boast; as the Apostles did of their Miseries and Abuses, when they departed from the presence of the Council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the Name of JESUS.* 1.29 Such is the Disposition of Mind in true Christians, when they are most basely affronted for the Defence of Truth.

CHRIST being come to restore the Order which Sin had overthrown, and that Order re∣quiring that the greatest Goods be accompanied with the most solid Pleasures; it is plain, that things ought to be in the manner we have said. But we may farther confirm and strengthen Rea∣son by Experience; for 'tis known, that as soon as any Person has formed but the bare Resolution to despise all for God, he is commonly affected with a Pleasure or internal Joy, that makes him as sensibly and lively perceive that God is his Good, as he knew it evidently before.

The true Christians assure us every Day, that the Joy they feel in an unmixt loving and serving God, is inexpressible; and 'tis but reasonable to believe the Relation they make of what happens within them. On the contrary, the Impious are perpetually vexed with horrible Disquietudes; and those that are shar'd betwixt God and the World, partake of the Joys of the Just, and of the Vexations of the Impious: They complain of their Miseries, and 'tis reasonable to believe that their Complaints are not groundless. God strikes Men to the Quick, and through the very Heart, when they love any thing besides him; and 'tis this Stroke that causes a real Misery. He pours an exceeding Joy into their Minds, when all their Adherencies are to him only, and that Joy is the Spring of true Felicity. The Abundance of Riches and Elevation to Honours being without us, cannot cure us of the Wound God makes; and Poverty and Contempt, that are likewise without us, cannot hurt us under the Almighty's Protection.

By what we have said, 'tis plain, That the Objects of the Passions are not our Good, that we must not follow their Motions, unless it be for the Preservation of Life; that sensible Pleasure bears the like Proportion to Good, as Sensations to Truth; and that as our Senses deceive us in Matters of Truth, so do likewise our Passions in point of our Good; that we ought to yield to the Delectation of Grace, because it evidently moves us to the Love of a true Good, is not fol∣lowed with the secret Reproaches of Reason, as the blind Instinct and confused Pleasure of the Passions; but is always attended with a secret Joy, suitable to the good State we are in. Last of all, since God alone can operate upon the Mind of Man, he cannot find any Happiness out of God, unless we would suppose that God rewards Disobedience, or that he commands to love more, what less deserves to be loved.

CHAP. V.

That the Perfection of the Mind consists in its Vnion with God, by the Know∣ledge of Truth, and the Love of Vertue; and contrariwise, that its Im∣per••ection proceeds only from its Dependency on the Body, caused by the Disorder of the Senses and Passions.

THE shortest Reflection is sufficient to let us know, that the Good of the Mind must needs be something of a Spiritual Nature, for our Bodies are much inferiour to our Mind; they are unable to act upon it by their own strength; they cannot immediately unite themselves to it; lastly, ••hey are not intelligible of themselves, and therefore cannot be its Good: whereas Spiri∣tual things being intelligible of their own Nature, can be united to the Mind, and consequently be its Good, provided they be Superiour to it. For that a thing may be the Good of the Mind, it must not only be Spiritual as it self; but it must also be Superiour to it, that it may act up∣on it, enlighten it, and reward it; since otherwise it cannot make it perfecter and happier, nor by consequence be its Good. Now, of all Intelligible or Spiritual things, God alone is thus Supe∣riour to the Mind; whence it follows, That nothing but God alone, either is, or can be, our true Good; and that we cannot become either more happy or more perfect, but by enjoying him.

Every one is persuaded that the Knowledge of Truth, and the Love of Vertue, make the Mind mo••e perfect; and that the Blindness of the Mind, and the Depravation of the Heart, lessens its natural Perfection. The Knowledge of Truth, and the Love of Vertue, cannot then be any thing else but the Union of the Mind to God; or, if I may so speak, a Possession of him: and, on the con••rary, the Blindness of the Mind, and the Depravation of the Heart, can be nothing else but a separation of the Mind from God, and its Union with something Inferiour to it, viz. with the ••••dy; since that is the only Union that can make it imperfect and unhappy. And therefore to know the Truth, or to know things as far as they are agreeable to the Rules of Truth, is really to know God. And to love Vertue, or to love things as far as they are amiable, or accord∣ing to the Rules of Vertue, is to love him.

The Mind is situate, as it were, betwixt God and Bodies, betwixt Good and Evil, between that w••i••h enlightens, and that which blinds it; that which rules, and that which misrules it; that which can make it perfect and happy, and that which can render it imperfect and miserable. When it discovers some Truth, or sees things as they are in their own Nature; it sees them in the Ideas of God, that is, discovers them by a clear and distinct view of what is in God representing them. For, as I have observed elsewhere, the Mind of Man contains not in it self the Perfections or Ideas o•• all the Beings it is capable of perceiving: 'tis not the universal Being, and therefore cannot see i•• it self such things as are distinguish'd from it self. It does not instruct or enlighten it self, by consulting with it self, as being neither Perfection nor Light to it self; it stands in need to be enlightned by the immense Light of Eternal Truth. Thus the Mind, by knowing Truth, is united to God, and in some manner knows and possesses him.

We may not only say, That a Mind perceiving the Truth, partly knows God, who compre∣hends it; we may add also, That in some sort it knows things as God himself knows them. For the Mind knows their true Relations, and so does God; the Mind sees them in viewing the Perfections of God that represent them; God perceives them the same way: for God neither per∣ceives by Sense, nor Imagination; but sees in himself, as being the Intellectual World, the Cor∣poreal and Sensible World, which he has created. 'Tis the same with the Mind in its Knowledge of Truth: it comes not to it by Sensation or Imagination; for Sensations and Pantasms offer but false Representations of things to the Mind; so that whosoever discovers the Truth, sees it in the Intellectual World, to which 'tis united, and in which Good sees it; for this material and sensible World, is not intelligible of it self: so that the Mind sees in the Light of God as does God himself, all the things which it plainly sees, though it sees them very imperfectly and so ve∣ry differently from God in that respect. Thus when the Mind sees Truth, it not only is united to God, possesses and beholds God, but also sees Truth in one sense as God himself sees it.

So when we love according to the Rules of Vertue, we love God; for by regulating our Love according to these Rules, the Impression of Love towards him, which he continually produces in our Heart, is not turn'd off by free Will, nor chang'd into Self-Love. The Mind at that time freely follows the Impression which God gives: and God never giving any Impression which does not tend towards him; since he only acts for himself, it is plain, That to love according to the Rules of Vertue, is to love God.

But 'tis not only to love God; 'tis likewise to love as God loves: He loves himself only, and his Works but because they relate to his Perfections, and proportionably to the degrees of Con∣formity they have with them; It being the same Love by which God loves himself, and what∣ever he has made or done. To love according to the Rules of Vertue, is to love God only, to love him in all things, and to love things proportionably as they partake of his Goodness and Perfections; since this is to love them according to the degree they are lovely. In short, 'tis to

love by the Impression of the same Love by which God loves himself; for 'tis the Love by which God loves himself, and whatever else with relation to him, that animates us, when we love as we ought: whence I conclude, That we then love, as God loves.

It is therefore evident, That the Knowledge of Truth, and the regular Love of Vertue, constitute all our Perfection, since they are the costomary Attendants on our Union with God; which also affords us the Enjoyment of him▪ as far as we are capable of it, in this Life: whereas the Blindness of the Mind, and the Depravation of the Heart, make our Imperfection; and are the Results of the Union of our Soul and Body, as I have proved in several Places; shewing that we never know the Truth, nor love the real Good, when we follow the Impressions of our Senses, Imaginations, and Passions.

All this is evident; and yet Men, who all passionately desire the Perfection of their Being, care but little to increase the Union which they have with God; nay, they are continually at work to strengthen and enlarge that which they have with sensible things. The Cause of that sur∣prizing Disorder cannot be too much explain'd.

The Possession of Good must naturally produce two Effects in the Possessour; at once must render him more perfect, and more happy: however it does not always fall out so. 'Tis im∣possible indeed that the Mind should actually enjoy a Good, without being actually more perfect; but it may happen that it actually enjoys it, without being actually happier. Those that know Truth best, and love most the most lovely Goods, are always actually more perfect, than those that live in blind Ignorance, and disorderly Practice; but they are not always actually happier. It is even so with Evil; it ought at once to make both imperfect and unhappy; but though it always makes Men more imperfect, yet it does not always make them more unhappy; or at least makes them not unhappy proportionably to its making them imperfect. Vertue is often bitter and distastful, whereas Vice is sweet and pleasant; so that it is especially by Faith and Hope, that pious Men are truly happy; whilst the wicked have the actual Enjoyments of Pleasures and Delights. It ought not to be so indeed, but however it is so; Sin has brought forth that Disorder, as I said in the foregoing Chapter, and that Disorder is the principal Cause, not only of the Corruption of our Morals, but also of the Ignorance and Darkness of our Mind.

By that Disorder it is that our Imagination persuades it self, that Bodies may be the Good of the Mind: For Pleasure, as I have often said, is the sensible Character, or Mark, of Good. But now of all the Pleasures we enjoy upon Earth, the most sensible are those which we imagine to receive by the Body. We judge, though too inconsiderately without doubt, that Bodies can be, and are, effectually our Good. And 'tis so hard to oppose the Instinct of Nature, and to withstand the Arguments of the Senses, that the design of it does not so much as come into our Mind. We think not on the Disorders introduc'd by Sin. We consider not that Bodies can act upon the Mind but as occasional Causes: that the Mind cannot immediately, or by it self, enjoy any Corporeal thing, and that all the ways it has of uniting to an Object are by its Knowledge and Love; that God only is superiour to it, can reward or punish it, by Sensations of Pleasure or Pain, that can enlighten and move it, in a word, act upon it. Those Truths, though most evi∣dent to attentive Minds, are not however so powerful to convince us, as is the deceiving Ex∣perience of a sensible Impression.

When we consider something as part of our selves, or look on our selves as a part of that thing, we judge it our Good to be united to it; we love it, and this love is so much the greater, as the thing, whereunto we think our selves united, seems to be a more considerable part of the whole we make up together with it. Now there are two sorts of Proofs, which persuade us that a thing is part of our self, viz. the Instinct of Sensation, and the Evidence of Reason.

By the Instinct of Sensation I am persuaded that my Soul is united to my Body, or that my Body makes part of my Being; but I have no full Evidence of it, since I know it not by the light of Reason, but by the Pain or Pleasure I feel at the presence and impression of Objects. My Hand is prick'd, I suffer Pain; thence I conclude, that my Hand makes part of my self: my Cloaths are rent, and I endure nothing; therefore, I say, my Cloaths are not my self: my Hair is cut with∣out Pain, but cannot be pluck'd up without smart; that puzzles the Philosopher, and he knows not what to determine. In the mean while this perplexity shows, that even the wisest rather judge by the instinct of Sensation than by the light of Reason, that such or such things belong or belong not to themselves. For should they determine them by Evidence, and the light of Reason, they would quickly know, that the Mind and the Body are two sorts of Beings, altogether opposite; that the Mind cannot be united to the Body by it self, and that the Soul is wounded when the Body is struck, only because of her Union with God. 'Tis then only by the Instinct of the Sensa∣tion that we look on our Body, and all the sensible things to which we are united, as part of our selves, that is, as belonging to that which thinks and feels in us: For what is not, cannot be known by evident Reason, since Evidence discovers Truth alone.

But on the contrary, 'tis by the light of Reason that we know the Relation we have with In∣tellectual things. We discover, by a clear View of the Mind, that we are united to God in a more strict and essential manner than to our Body; that without him we are nothing, and neither can doe, nor know, neither will, nor be sensible of any thing: that he is our All, or if we may so speak, that we make up a whole with him, of which we are but an infinitely small part. The light of Reason discovers us a thousand Motives to love God only, and to dispise Bodies, as un∣worthy of our Love. But we are not naturally sensible of our Union to God, nor persuaded that he is our All, by the Instinct of sense; 'tis only the Grace of our Lord which produces in some

Men that spiritual sense to help them to overcome the contrary Sensations, by which they are united to their Body. For God, as the Author of Nature, inclines Minds to the love of him by a Know∣ledge of Illumination, and not of Instinct; and in all probability, 'tis but since the Fall that God, as the Author of Grace, has superadded Instinct to Illumination; because our light is at present so mightily impair'd, as to be incapable of bringing us to God, being besides continually weakn'd by contrary pleasure or instinct, and rendred ineffectual.

We therefore discover by the light of the Mind, that we are united to God, and to the intel∣lectual World which he contains; and are convinced by Sensation, that we are united to our Body, and by it to the material and sensible World God has Created. But as our Sensations are more lively, moving, frequent and lasting than our Illuminations, so 'tis not strange that our Sensa∣tions should agitate us, and quicken our love for sensible things; whereas our Light dissipates and vanishes, without producing any zeal and ardency for Truth.

'Tis true that several Men are persuaded that God is their real Good, love him as their All, and earnestly desire to strengthen and increase their Union with him. But few evidently know, that by meditating on the Truth we unite our selves to God, as far as natural strength can attain; that it is a sort of Enjoyment of him, to contemplate the true Ideas of things; and that that ab∣stracted view of some general and immutable Truths, on which all the particulars depend, are flights of a Mind that sequesters it self from the Body to unite it self to God. Metaphysicks, speculative Mathematicks, and all those universal Sciences, which regulate and contain the par∣ticular, as the Universal Being comprehends all particular Beings, seem to be Chimerical to most Men, as well to the pious as to those that do not love God. So that I dare hardly make bold to say, that the study of those Sciences is the most pure and perfect Application to God, that the Mind may be naturally capable of; and that it is by the sight of the Intellectual World, which is their Object, that God has produced and still knows this sensible World, from which Bodies re∣ceive their Life, as Spirits live from the other.

Those that purely follow the Impressions of their Senses, and motions of their Passions, are not capable of relishing the Truth, because it flatters them not. And even the Vertuous, who constant∣ly oppose their Passions when they proffer them false Goods, do not always resist them when they conceal from them the Truth, and make it despicable; because one may be pious without be∣ing a Man of parts. To please God we need not exactly know, that our Senses, Imagination, and Passions, always represent things otherwise than they are; since it appears not that our Lord and his Apostles ever intended to undeceive us of several Errours upon this matter, which Descar∣tes has discover'd to us▪

There is a great difference betwixt Faith and Understanding, the Gospel and Philosophy: the greatest Clowns are capable of Faith, but few can attain to the pure Knowledge of Evident Truth. Faith represents to vulgar Men God as the Creator of Heaven and Earth, which is a sufficient mo∣tive of Love and Duty towards him; whereas Reason, knowing that God was God before he was Creator, not only considers him in his Works, but also endeavours to contemplate him in himself; or in that immense Idea of the infinitely perfect Being, which is included in him. The Son of God, who is the Wisdom of his Father, or the Eternal Truth, made himself Man, and became sensible, that he might be known by Men of Flesh and Blood, by gross material Men; that he might instruct them by that which was the Cause of their Blindness, and draw them to the love of him, and disengage them from sensible goods, by the same things that had enslav'd them; for having to doe with Fools, he thought fit to take upon him a sort of Folly whereby to make them wise: So that the most pious Men, and truest Believers, have not always the greatest Understanding. They may know God by Faith, and love him by the help of his Grace, with∣out understanding, that he is their All, in the sense Philosophers understand him; and without thinking, that the abstracted Knowledge of Truth is a sort of a Union with him. We ought not therefore to be surprized, if so few Persons labour to strengthen their natural Union with God by the Knowledge of Truth, since to this there is required a continual opposition of the Impressions of the Senses and Passions, in a very different way from that which is usual with the Vertuous, who are not always persuaded, that the Senses and Passions abuse them in the manner that has been explain'd in the foregoing Books.

The Sensations and Thoughts, in which the Body has a share, are the sole and immediate Cause of the Passions, as proceeding from the Concussion of the Fibres of the Brain, raising some parti∣cular Commotion in the Animal Spirits: And therefore Sensations are the only sensible proofs of our dependence on some things, which they excite us to love: but we feel not our Natural Uni∣on with God, when we know the Truth, and do not so much as think upon him, because he is, and operates in us so privately and insensibly, as to be imperceptible to our selves: And this is the Reason that our natural Union with God raises not our Love for him. But it goes quite otherwise with our Union to sensible things. All our Sensations prove it, and Bodies appear be∣fore our Eyes, when they act in us. Their Action is visible and manifest. Our Body is even more present to us than our Mind, and we consider the former as the best part of our Selves. So that our Union to our Body, and by it to sensible Objects, excites in us a violent Love, which increases that Union, and makes us depend on things that are infinitely below us.

CHAP. VI.

Of the more general Errours of the Passions, with some particular Instances.

'TIS the part of Moral Philosophy to discover the particular Errours concerning Good, in which our Passions engage us, to oppose irregular affections, to restore the Integrity of the Heart, and to rule the Course of our Life. But here we chiefly aim at giving Rules to the Mind, and finding out the Causes of our Errours, in reference to Truth; so that we shall not proceed far∣ther in those Matters that relate to the Love of true Good. We are tending to the Instruction of the Mind, and only take the Heart in the way, in as much as the Heart is its Master. We search into Truth it self, without a special Respect to our selves; and we consider its Relation with us, only because that Relation is the Spring of Self-love's disguising and concealing it from us: for we judge of all things by our Passions, whence it is that we mistake in all things, the Judgments of Passions never agreeing with the Judgments of Truth.

'Tis what we learn in these excellent Words of St. Bernard. * 1.30 Neither Love nor Hatred know how to make a Judgment according to Truth. Will you hear a true Judgment? As I hear, I judge, says our Lord; he says not as I hate, as I love, or as I fear. Here you have a Judgment of Hatred: We have a Law, say the Jews, and by that Law he ought to die. Here a Judgment of Fear: If we let him a∣lone, say the Pharisees, the Romans shall come, and take away our Place and Nation. Here another of Love, as that of David, speaking of his Parricide Son, Spare the young Man Absalom.

Our Love, Hatred, and Fear cause us to make false Judgments only. Nothing but the pure Light of Truth can illuminate our Mind; nothing but the distinct Voice of our common Master can cause us to make true Judgments, provided we only judge of what he says, and as he says, in Imitation only of our Lord, as I hear I judge: But let's see how it is that our Passions seduce us, that we may the easier resist them.

The Passions are so nearly related to the Senses, that, remembring what hath been said in the first Book, it will not be difficult to explain, how they lead us into Errour; because the general Causes of the Errours of the Passions are altogether like to those of the Errours of the Senses.

The most general Cause of the Errours of the Senses, is, as we there have shewn, our attributing to external Objects, or to the Body, the proper Sensations of our Soul, annexing Colours to the Superficies of Bodies, diffusing Light, Sounds and Odours in the Air, and fixing Pain and Titil∣lation to those Parts of our Body that receive some Changes by the Motion of other contiguous Bodies.

Almost the same thing may be said of the Passions: we too rashly ascribe to the Objects, that cause, or seem to cause, them, all the Dispositions of our Heart, our Goodness, Meekness, Malice, Sowreness, and all the other Qualities of our Mind. The Object that begets some Passion in us, seemes afrer a sort to contain in it self the Passion produced in us, when we consider it, as sensible things seem to contain in themselves the Sensations, which their Presence excites in us. When we love any Person, we are naturally inclin'd to believe that he loves us, and can hardly imagine that he designs to hurt us, or to oppose our Desires. But if Hatred succeed in the place of Love, we cannot Persuade our selves that he has any Affection for us; we interpret all he does in the worst Sense, we are always distrustful and upon our Guard, though he thinks not upon us, or perhaps intended to doe us Service. In short, we unjustly attribute to the Person that stirs up a passion in us, all the Dispositions of our Heart, and with as much Imprudence, as we ascribe to the Objects of the Senses, all the Qualities of our Mind.

Moreover by the same Reason that we believe, other Men receive the same Sensations from the same Objects as we do; we think they are agitated with the same Passions, for the same Subjects if they are in a State of being susceptible of them. We suppose them to love and desire the same things as we our selves do, whence proceed secret Jealousies and Hatreds, if the desired Good can∣not be enjoyed entire by several; for the contrary happens in Goods that can be possessed without Division by several Persons, as Science, Vertue, the Sovereign Good, and the like. We also sup∣pose that they hate, fear or fly from the same things that we do; whence proceed secret Plots or publick Associations, according to the nature and state of the thing hated, by which means we hope to rid our selves of our Miseries.

We therefore ascribe to the Objects of our Passions the Commotions they produce in us, think∣ing that all other Men, and even sometimes Beasts, are agitated as we are; and besides judge yet more rashly, the Cause of our Passions, which is often but imaginary, is really in some Object.

When we have a passionate Love for any Body, his Grimace and Faces are charming, his Ug∣liness is not distastful, his ill-composed Motions and Gestures are regular, or at least natural. If he never speak, he is wise; if he be a great Talker, he is witty; if he speak upon all adventures,

he's Universal; if he continually interrupt others, it is because he's full of Fire, of Life, and Spirit; if he pretend to top and sway every where, 'tis because he deserves it. Thus can Passion cover or dissemble the Imperfections of Friends, and advantagiously set off their most inconsider∣able Qualities.

But when that Friendship, which only proceeds as other Passions do, from the Agitation of the Blood and Animal Spirits, comes to cool, through want of Heat and Spirits fit to nourish it; when Interest or some false Relation alters the Disposition of the Brain; then Hatred succeeding Love, is sure to represent to us in that Object of our Passion all the Defects that are capable of stirring up our just Aversion. We perceive in him Qualities quite contrary to those we admired before: We are asham'd of having lov'd him; and the ruling Passion never fails to justifie it self, and to ridicule that which it has follow'd.

The Power and Injustice of Passions are not included within such narrow Limits as those we have described, but extend infinitely farther; not only disguising their principal Object, but also whatever has any reference to it. They make us love not only the Qualities of our Friends, but also most part of those of the Friends to our Friends. And in those who are endued with any strength and extent of Imagination, the Passions have so vast a reach and out-let, that it is not possible to determine their Limits.

Those Things I have mention'd, are such general and fruitful Principles of Errour, Prejudice, and Injustice, that it is impossible to observe all the Consequences of them: Most of the Truths, or rather Errours, entertained in some Places, Times, Commonalties, and Families, proceed from thence. What is followed in Spain, is rejected in France; what is true at Paris, is false at Rome; what is certain amongst the Dominicans, is uncertain amongst the Franciscans; and what appears undoubted to the Black Fryars, seems an Errour to the White. The Dominicans believe themselves obliged to stick to St. Thomas. Why? Because that Doctor was one of their Order: Whereas the Franciscans follow the Opinion of Scotus, because he was a Black Fryar.

There are likewise Truths and Errours proper to certain Times. The Earth turned two thou∣sand Years ago; then it remain'd unmovable till our Days, wherein it has began to turn again. Aristotle was formerly burnt, and a Provincial Council, approved by the Pope, most wisely for∣bad his Physicks to be taught: He was admired ever since, and falls now again into Contempt. Opinions that are now publickly received in the Schools, were formerly rejected as Heresies, and their Assertors excommunicated by the Bishops; because Passions stirring up Factions, Factions establish those sorts of Truths or Errours, that are as inconsistent as the Principle they proceed from. Men may indeed be indifferent as to the Unmovableness of the Earth, * 1.31 or the Essence of Bodies, consider'd in themselves; but they are no longer so, when they look on those Opinions as defended by their Adversaries. Thus Hatred, kept up by a confused sense of Piety, breeds an in∣discreet Zeal, that kindles by degrees, and at last produces such Events, as are not so surprizing to all the World, till a great while after their arrival.

We can hardly imagine that Passions should reach so far, because we know not that their Im∣petuosity extends to whatever may satisfie them. Perhaps H••man would have done no harm to the Jewish People; but because Mordecai, a Jew, forbore to salute him, he on a sudden design'd the destroying of the whole Nation, that his Revenge might be the more splendid.

Two Men sue each other about a Piece of Land; they ought only to produce in Court their Titles to it, and to say nothing but what relates to the Case, or to set it off fair. However, they seldom fail to slander one another, to contradict each other in every thing, to raise trifling Con∣testations and Accusations, and to intricate the Suit with an infinity of Accessary Circumstances, which confound the Principal. In short, the Passions reach as far as the sight of the Mind does, in those that are affected by them. I would say, there is nothing to which we may suppose their Object to be related, but their Motion will extend to it; which is done after the following manner.

The Tracks of the Objects are so connected to each other in the Brain, that it is impossible the Course of the Spirits should violently move any one of them, without raising several others at the same time. The principal Idea of the Thing perceiv'd, is therefore necessarily accompanied with a vast number of accessary Ideas, which increase more and more, as the Impression of the Animal Spirits is more violent. Now that Impression cannot but be very violent in the Passions, because they continually hurry into the Brain abundance of such Spirits as are fit to preserve the Traces of the Ideas which represent their Object. So that the Motion of Love or Hatred extends not only to the Chief Object of either Passion, but also to all the Things that are found any ways relating to it; because the Motion of the Soul in the Passion follows the Perception of the Mind, as the Motion of the Animal Spirits in the Brain follows the Traces of the Brain, as well those that excite the principal Idea of the Passion's Object, as those that are related to it.

And therefore we must not be surprized if Men carry their Hatred or Love to such a heighth, and commit such strange and capricious Actions. Every one of those Effects has its proper Cause, though unknown to us; because their accessary Ideas being not always like to ours, we cannot rightly judge of them: So that Men act always by some particular Reason, even in those Actions that appear most extravagant to us.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Passions in particular: And first, Of Admiration, and its ill Effects.

WHatever I have said hitherto of the Passions is general, yet 'tis no hard matter to draw par∣ticular Inferences from it: If one do but reflect upon what occurs in his own Breast, and upon the Actions of others, he will discover at one View, a greater number of those Truths, than can be explain'd in a considerable time. However, there are so few who think of retiring into themselves, and make any Attempt to that purpose, that, to quicken them, and raise their At∣tention, it will not be amiss somewhat to descend into Particulars.

It seems, when we handle or strike our selves, that we are almost insensible; whereas if we be but never so little touched by others, we receive such lively Sensations as awaken our Attention. In a word, as it never comes into our Mind to tickle our selves; and if it did, perhaps the At∣tempt would be unsuccessful: So, almost for the same Reason, the Soul cares not to feel and sound her self, is presently disgusted at that sort of Exercise, and commonly is incapable of feeling or knowing all the Parts that belong to her, till touch'd and made sensible to her by others: So that it will be necessary, for the facilitating some People in acquiring the Knowledge of themselves, to mention some of the particular Effects of the Passions, to ••each them, by touching them, of what Make and Constitution their Soul is of.

In the mean while, those that shall read the following Thoughts, must be forewarn'd, that they will not always be touched to the Quick, nor be aware that they are subject to the Passions and Errours of which I shall speak; because particular Passions are not always the same in all Men.

All Men indeed have the same natural Inclinations, which referr not to the Body; and likewise all those that relate to it, when 'tis in a very good Constitution: But its various Tempers and frequent Alterations, produce an infinite Variety in particular Passions: To which diversity of Constitutions, if that variety of Objects be added, which cause very different Impressions upon those who follow not the same Employments and manner of Life, it will plainly appear, that such a Person, who is lively touched by some Things in one Place of his Soul, may be absolutely in∣sensible as to many others; so that we should commonly mistake, should we always judge of the Commotions of others by what we feel in our selves.

I am not afraid of being deceiv'd, when I assert, That all Men would be happy; for I fully and certainly know, that Chinese and Tartars, Angels and Devils, in a word, all Spirits whatsoever, have an Inclination for Felicity: Nay, I know that God shall never produce any Spirit without that Desire. I never saw either Chinese or Tartar; so that I never learn'd it from Experience, nor yet from my inward Consciousness, which only teaches me that I would my self be happy. God alone can inwardly convince me, that all other Men, Angels, and Devils, desire Happiness; and he only can assure me, that he will never create a Spirit that shall not care for Felicity: For who else can positively assure me of what he does, and even thinks? And as he cannot deceive me, so I may safely relie on what I learn from him: And therefore I am certain that all Men would be happy, because that Inclination is natural, and independent on the Body.

It goes quite otherwise with particular Passions: For, because I love Musick, Dancing, Hunting, Sweet-meats, high-season'd Dishes, &c. I cannot certainly conclude that other Men have the same Passions. Pleasure is doubtless sweet and grateful to Men; but all find it not in the same Things. The Love of Pleasure is a Natural Inclination, not depending upon the Body, and therefore general to all Men: But the Love of Musick, Hunting, or Dancing, is not general, because the Dispositi∣on of the Body from which it proceeds being different in several Persons, the Passions they pro∣duce are not always the same.

General Passions, as Desire, Joy, and Sorrow, are the Mean betwixt natural Inclinations and par∣ticular Passions. They are general, as well as Inclinations; but they are not always of the same strength; because the Cause which produces and feeds them is not always equally active. There is an infinite Variety in the Degrees of Agitation of the Animal Spirits, in their Plenty and Scar∣city, in their Solidity and Fineness, and in the Relation betwixt the Fibres of the Brain and those Spirits.

And therefore it often happens, that we touch not Men in any part of their Soul, when we treat of particular Passions; but if they chance to be touched, they are violently moved. On the contrary, the mentioning of general Passions and Inclinations never fail to affect us, but so weakly and faintly, that we are scarce sensible of it. I mention this, lest any should judge of what I say by his own Commotions, that he either has, or shall receive from my Discourse; but rather that he should judge of it by considering the Nature of the Passions I speak of.

Should we purpose to handle all the particular Passions, and distinguish them by the Objects that raise them, it is plain, the Task would be endless, and we should only repeat the same thing: The former, because the Objects of the Passions are infinite; the latter, because we should be constant∣ly engag'd in the same Subject. The particular Passions for Poetry, History, Mathematicks, Hunt∣ing, Dancing, are but one general Passion: For, for example, the Passions of Desire or Joy for whatever pleases, are not different Passions, though delightful Objects in particular differ much.

And therefore the Number of Passions must not be multiplied by the Number of Objects, which

are infinite; but only by the principal Relations they may have to us: And so it will appear, as we shall explain it hereafter, that Love and Hatred are the Mother-Passions, which produce no other general Passions, besides Desire, Joy, and Sorrow: that the particular Passions are made up only of those Three primitive, and more or less compounded, according to the number of accessa∣ry Ideas, that attend the principal Idea of the Good or Evil, which has rais'd them, or as the Good and Evil are more or less circumstantiated with reference to us.

If we remember what has been said of the Connection of Ideas, and that in all great Passions the Animal Spirits being extreamly agitated, stir up in the Brain all the Traces any ways related to the moving Object; we shall own, that there is an infinite Variety of different Passions, which have no particular Names, and cannot be explain'd but by saying they are inexplicable.

If the primitive Passions, of the Complication of which others are made up, were not su∣sceptible of more or less, it would not be difficult to determine the Number of all the Passions; but that number of complicated Passions must needs be infinite, because one and the same Passion having infinite Degrees, may by its Conjunction with others be infinitely complicated; so that there were perhaps never two Men affected with the same Passion, if by that Name be under∣stood an even Mixture and Likeness of all the Motions and Sensations that are occasionally rais'd in us upon the presence of some Object.

But as more or less do not alter the Species, so it may be said, that the Number of Passions is not infinite; because the Circumstances that attend Good or Evil, which excite the Passions, are not innumerable. But let us explain our Passions in particular.

When we see any thing the first time, or when having seen it several times accompanied with some Circumstances, we see it again attended with others, we are surprized, and admire it. Thus a new Idea, or a new Connection of old Ideas, raises in us an Imperfect Passion, which is the first of all, and nam'd Admiration. I call it imperfect, because 'tis not excited either by the Idea or Sense of Good: The Brain being then struck in some unusual Places, or in a new manner, the Soul is sensibly moved, and therefore must needs strongly apply her self to what is new in that Object; for the same Reason that a bare Tickling the Soale of the Feet raises a very lively and moving Sensation in the Soul, rather by the Novelty than by the Strength of the Impression.

There are other Reasons of the Application of the Soul to new Things; but I have explain'd them, where I speak of the Natural Inclinations. Here we consider the Soul only as related to the Body, in which respect the Commotion of the Spirits is the natural Cause of her Application to new Things.

In Admiration, strictly taken, we consider things only as they are in themselves, or as they ap∣pear, and look not on them as related to us, or as good or bad. Hence it comes, that the Spirits disperse not through the Muscles to give the Body the Disposition that is required for persuing Good, or shunning Evil; and shake not the Nerves that go to the Heart and other Viscera, to ha∣sten or retard the Fermentation or Motion of the Blood, as it happens in other Passions. All the Spirits go the Brain, to print a lively and distinct Image of the surprizing Object, that the Soul may consider and know it again; whilst the rest of the Body remains in the same posture, and as unmovable: For as there is no Commotion in the Soul, so there is no Motion in the Body.

When the admired Things appear great, Admiration is always follow'd with Esteem, and some∣times with Veneration; whereas it is always accompanied with Contempt, and sometimes with Disdain, when they appear little.

The Idea of Grandeur causes a great Motion of the Spirits in the Brain, and the Tracks that represent it are kept very long: And likewise a great Motion of the Spirits raises in the Soul an Idea of Greatness, and powerfully fixes the Mind on the Consideration of that Idea.

On the contrary, the Idea of Littleness produces but an inconsiderable Motion of Spirits in the Brain, and the Traces representing it are soon blotted out: And likewise a small Motion of Spi∣rits raises in the Soul an Idea of Meanness, and stays the Mind but little on the Consideration of that Idea. Those things deserve to be taken notice of.

When we consider our selves, or something united to us, our Admiration is always accompa∣nied with some moving Passion, which however only agitates the Soul and the Spirits, that go to the Heart; because there being no Good to seek, nor Evil to avoid, the Spirits disperse not them∣selves through the Muscles, to dispose the Body to some Action.

The Contemplation of the Perfection of our Being, or of something belonging to it, naturally produces Pride, or Self-esteem, Contempt of others, Joy, and some other Passions. The Contem∣plation of our own Grandeur, causes Haughtiness; that of our Strength, Valour, or Boldness; and that of any other Advantage naturally raises some other Passion, which is still a kind of Pride.

On the contrary, the Con••ideration of some Imperfection of our Being, or of something be∣longing to it, naturally produces Humility, Contempt of our selves, Reverence for others, Sor∣row, and some other Passions. The ••ight of our Littleness causes Pusilanimity; that of our Weakness, Timidity▪ and that of any Disadvantage whatsoever, naturally raises some other Pas∣sion, which is still a kind of Humility. But neither that Humility, nor that Pride, are properly Vertues or Vices; being only Passions or involuntary Commotions, which yet are very useful to Civil Society, and even in some Cases absolutely necessary for the preservation of the Life or Goods of those that are actuated by them.

'Tis necessary, for instance, to be humble and timorous, and even outwardly to testifie that Di∣sposition of the Mind, by a modest Look, and respectful or timorous Deportment, when we are in the Presence of a Person of Quality, or one that is proud and powerful: It being almost ever profi∣table

for the Good of the Body, that the Imagination should stoop before sensible Grandeur, and give it outward Marks of its inward Submission and Veneration. But this is done naturally and machinally, without the Consent of the Will, and sometimes notwithstanding its Opposition. Even such Beasts, as Dogs, which stand in need of prevailing upon those with whom they live, have ordinarily their Bodies so disposed, that it machinally takes the Posture that is most suitable, in reference to those that are about them: For that is absolutely necessary to their Preservation. And if Birds, and some other Creatures, want such a Disposition, 'tis because they need not as∣swage the Fury of those whom they can escape by Flight, or whose Help is not necessary for the Preservation of their Life.

It can never be too much observ'd, that all the Passions which are raised in us, at the sight of something external, machinally spread on the Face those Looks that are fit and suited to our pre∣sent State; that is, those that are apt by their Impression machinally to dispose the Spectators to such Passions and Motions as are useful for the Good of Civil Society. Admiration it self, when produced in us by the Perception of something external, which others can consider as well as we, puts the Face in such a Shape as is fit to strike others with a machinal Impression of Admiration; and which acts so regularly on the Brain, that the Spirits contain'd in it are driven to the Muscles of the Face, to fashion it into a Look altogether like our own.

This Communication of the Passions of the Soul and the Animal Spirits, to unite Men toge∣ther, in reference to Good and Evil, and to make them altogether like, not only by the Disposition of their Mind, but also by the Posture of their Body, is so much the greater and more observable, as the Passions are more violent; by reason that the Animal Spirits are then agitated with more strength. And this must needs be so, because the Good and Evil being then greater, or more present, requires a greater Application, and a stricter Association of Men to seek or avoid them. But when the Passions are moderate, as Admiration usually is, their Communication is insensible; and they do not alter the Countenance, by which the Communication uses to be wrought: For there being no urgent Occasion, it would be needless to put a Force on the Imagination of others, or to take them off from their Business, to which their Application is perhaps more requisite, than to the looking on the Causes of those Passions.

There is nothing more wonderful, than that Oeconomy of the Passions and Dispositions of the Body, in reference to the surrounding Objects. All our machinal Actions are most becoming the Wisdom of our Maker. God has made us susceptible of all those Passions chiefly to unite us with all sensible Things, for the Preservation of Society, and of our corporeal Being; and his Design is so exactly perform'd by the Construction of his Work, that we cannot but admire his Wisdom in the Contrivance of the Springs and Texture of it.

However, our Passions, and all those imperceptible Bands which tie us to the surrounding Ob∣jects, often prove, by our own Fault, fruitful Causes of Errours and Disorders. For we make not of our Passions the Use we ought to do; we allow them every thing, and know not so much as the Bounds we ought to prescribe to their Power; so that the weakest and least moving Pas∣sions, as Admiration for instance, have strength enough to draw us into Errour. Some Examples whereof are these.

When Men, and especially those that are endu'd with a lively Imagination, contemplate the best side of themselves, they find for the most part a great deal of Self-complacency and Satisfa∣ction; and their internal Satisfaction is increased by the Comparison they make betwixt them∣selves and others that are not so airy and spirituous: Besides that they have many Admirers, and that few of their Opposers gain Success and Applause; for Reason is seldom or never applauded, in opposition to a strong and lively Imagination. In short, the Face of their Hearers takes on such submissive and dutiful Looks, and expresses, at every new Word they say, such lively Strokes of Admiration, that they admire themselves too; and that their Imagination, pufft up with their pretended Advantages, fills them with an extraordinary Satisfaction of themselves. And since we cannot see Men in the heighth of a Passion, without receiving some impression from it, and adopt∣ing, as I may say, their Sentiments; how should it be possible that those who are surrounded with a Throng of Admirers, should give no access to a Passion that is so flattering and so grateful to Self-love?

Now that high Esteem which Persons of a strong and lively Imagination have of themselves and their good Qualities, puffs them up with Pride, and gives them a Magisterial and Decisive Comportment; they listen to others, but with Contempt; they answer, but with Jeering; they think, but with reference to themselves; and as they look on the Attention of the Mind, that is so requisite for the discovery of Truth, as a Slavery; so they are altogether indocible. Pride, Ignorance, and Blindness, go hand in hand. The bold, or rather vain-glorious Wits, will not be the Disciples of Truth, and never retire into themselves, unless it be to contemplate and admire their supposed Perfections; so that he who resists the Proud, shines in the middle of their Dark∣ness, without dissipating it.

There is, on the contrary, a certain Disposition of the Blood and Animal Spirits, that occasi∣ons too mean Thoughts of our selves. The Scarcity, the Dulness, and Fineness of the Animal Spirits, join'd to the Coursness of the Fibres of the Brain, cause the Imagination to be weak and languishing: And the Contemplation, or rather the confused Sense of that Faintness of Ima∣gination, is what breeds in us a vicious Humility, which we may call Meanness of Spirit.

All Men are susceptible of the Truth, but all apply not themselves to him who alone is able to teach it. The Proud make their Address and listen but to themselves; and the Dis-spirited

make their Application to the Proud, and submit themselves to their Determinations. Both the one and the other give ear to bare Men. Proud Minds follow the Fermentation of their own Blood, that is, their own Imagination; and the Low-spirited are over-sway'd by the over-ruling Countenance of the Proud, and so are both subjected to Vanity and Lies. The Proud is like a rich and powerful Man, who has a great Retinue, who measures his own Greatness by the num∣ber of his Attendants, and his Strength by that of the Horses of his Coach: whereas the Low-spi∣rited is like a poor, weak, and languishing Wretch, who though he have the same Spirit and Prin∣ciples, yet because he is Master of Nothing, imagines he is almost Nothing himself. However, our Retinue is not our self, and so far is the plenty of the Blood and Animal Spirits, the vigour and impetuousness of the Imagination, from leading us to the Truth, that on the contrary nothing carries us so far from it; whereas 'tis the Dull, if I may so call them, that is, the cool and sedate Minds, that are the fittest for the Discovery of solid and hidden Truths. Their Passions being silent and quiet, they may listen in the Recess of their Reason to the Truth that teaches them; but most unhappily they mind not its Words, because it speaks low, without a forcible sound, and that no∣thing wakens them but a mighty Noise. Nothing convinces them but what glitters to appear∣ance, and is judg'd great and magnificent by the Senses; they love to be dazled with Brightness, and rather chuse to hear those Philosophers, who tell them their Stories and Dreams, and assert, as the false Prophets of former times, that the Truth has spoken to them (though it has not) than to listen to Truth it self. For they have already suffer'd four thousand Years, and that without op∣position, humane Pride to entertain them with Lies, which they reverence and keep to, as to Ho∣ly and Divine Traditions. It seems the God of Truth is wholly gone from them; they think on him and consult him no more, they meditate no more, and cover their neglect and laziness, with the delusive pretences of a sacred Humility.

'Tis true, that we cannot of our selves discover the Truth; but we can doe it at all times with the assistance of him that enlightens us, and can never doe it with that of all the Men in the World. Those that know it best cannot shew it to us, unless we ask it of him, to whom they have made their Application; and unless he be pleased to answer our Questions, that is, our At∣tention, as he has done theirs. We are not therefore to believe, because Men say this or that, for every Man is a Liar; but because he that cannot deceive speaks to us, and we must perpetually interrogate him for the solution of our Difficuties. We ought not to trust to them that speak only to the Ears; instruct but the Body, or at the utmost move but the Imagination. But we ought attentively to listen unto, and faithfully believe him who speaks to the Mind, informs the Reason, and piercing into the most abstruse Recesses of the inward Man, is able to enlighten and strengthen him, against the outward and sensible Man, that continually labours to seduce and cor∣rupt him. I often repeat these things, because I believe them most worthy of a serious Considera∣tion. God alone is to be honour'd, because he only can endue us with Knowledge, as 'tis he a∣lone that can fill us with Pleasure.

There is sometimes in the animal Spirits, and the rest of the Body, a Disposition that provokes to Hunting, Dancing, Running, and other Corporeal Exercises, wherein the Force and Activity of the Body are most conspicuous: Which Disposition is very ordinary to young Men, especially before their Body be in a State of Consistency. Children cannot stay in one place, and will al∣ways be moving, if they follow their humour. For whereas all their Muscles are not yet strength∣ened, nor perfectly finisht; therefore God, who as the Author of Nature, regulates the Pleasures of the Soul, with reference to the Good of the Body, causes them to be delighted with such Exercises as may invigorate it. Thus whilst the Flesh and Fibres of their Nerves are yet soft, the Channels through which the animal Spirits must necessarily flow, to produce all sorts of Mo∣tion, are wore, and kept open, Humours have no time to settle, and all Obstructions and Causes of Corruption are removed.

The confused Sensation that young Men have of that Disposition of their Body, makes them pleased with the thoughts of their Strength and Dexterity. They admire themselves when they know how to measure their Motions, and to make extraordinary ones, and are ambitious of be∣ing in the presence of Spectators and Admirers. Thus they strengthen by degrees their Inclina∣tion to Corporeal Exercises, which is one of the principal Causes of Ignorance and Brutishness. For besides the time that is by that meanes lavisht away, the little use they make of their Under∣standing, causes the chief part of the Brain, in whose tractableness the force and quickness of the Mind especially consists, to become altogether inflexible, and the animal Spirits, through disuse, are difficultly dispers'd in the Brain, in a manner requisite to think of what they please.

This incapacitates most part of the Nobility and Gentry, especially such as follow the War, to apply themselves to any thing. They answer with a Word and a Blow, as the Proverb says; for if you speak any thing that they don't willingly hear, instead of thinking upon a suitable Reply, their Animal Spirits insensibly flow into the Muscles that raise the Arm, and make them answer without Consideration, with a Blow, or a Threatning Gesture; because their Spirits, agitated by the Words they hear, are conveyed to such Places, as are most open through Habit and Exercise. The sense of their Corporeal Strength confirms them in those insulting Manners; and the submis∣sive Aspect of their Hearers puffs 'em up with such an absurd Confidence, as makes them believe they have said very fine things, when they have but haughtily and brutishly uttered Impertinen∣cies; being flater'd by the Fear and Caution of the Standers by.

It is not possible to have applied our selves to any Study, or to make actual profession of any Science, to be either Author or Doctor, without being conscious of it. But that very Conscious∣ness

naturally produces in some Men such a vast Number of Imperfections, that it would be better with them if they wanted those Honourable Qualities. As they look upon them as their most con∣siderable Perfections, so they are extreamly pleased with that Contemplation; they set them before the Eyes of others with all the possible Dexterity, and conceive they have thereby right to judge of every thing without Examination. If any be so couragious as to contradict them, they at first en∣deavour skillfully, and with a sweet and obliging Countenance, to insinuate what they are, and what right they have to determine of such Matters: And if any still presume to oppose them, and that they be at a loss for an Answer, they do not stick openly to declare what they think of themselves and of their Adversaries.

Every inward Sense of any Qualification we enjoy, naturally swells up the Courage. A Troop∣er well mounted and accoutred, who neither wants Blood nor Spirits, is ready to undertake any thing; that Disposition inspiring him with an undaunted Boldness. So it goes with a Man of Let∣ters; when he fansies himself to be Learned, and that the Haughtiness of his Heart has corrupted his Mind, he becomes, if I may so speak, bold and fierce against Truth. Sometimes he rashly impungs it without knowing it, at other times he consciously betrays it; and relying upon his ima∣ginary Learning, is always ready to assert, either the Affirmative or Negative, according as he is possessed with a Spirit of Contradiction.

It goes quite otherwise with those that make no Ostentation of Learning: they are not positive; neither do they speak, unless they have something to say; and it even often happens that they re∣main silent when they should speak. They have neither that Fame, nor those outward Charac∣ters of Learning, which spur Men on to speak without Knowledge, and so may decently hold their Peace: but the Pretenders are afraid to make a stop, since they are sensible they shall be de∣spis'd for their Silence, even when they have nothing to say; and that they are not always in dan∣ger of falling into Contempt, though they speak but Impertinencies, provided they utter them with a Scientifick Confidence.

What makes Men capable of thinking, enables them to know the Truth; but neither Honours, Riches, University-Degrees, nor Chimerical Erudition, makes them capable of thinking. It's their own Nature, for they are made to think, because they are created for the Truth. Even bodily Health qualifies them not for thinking well, but only is a less Hinderance than Sickness. Our Body assists us in some manner in perceiving by Sense, and imagining; but not at all in con∣ceiving. For though without its Help we cannot attentively meditate, nor oppose the continual Impression of the Senses and Passions, which endeavour to perplex and obliterate our Ideas, be∣cause in this present State, we cannot overcome the Body, but by the Body; yet 'tis plain that the Body cannot illuminate the Mind, nor produce in it the Light of Understanding, since every Idea that discovers the Truth proceeds from Truth it self. All that the Soul receives from the Bo∣dy relates only to it, and when she follows those Glimpses, she sees nothing but Phantasms and Dreams; that is to say, she sees not things as they are in themselves, but only as they have rela∣tion to her Body.

As the Idea of our own Greatness or Littleness is a frequent occasion of Errour, so likewise the Ideas of outward things that have refference to us, make no less dangerous an Impression. We have already observ'd that the Idea of Greatness is always attended with a great Motion of Spirits, and a great Motion of the Spirits is ever accompanied with the Idea of Greatness: and that on the contrary, that of Littleness is always followed with a small Motion of Spirits, which is in its turn accompanied with the Idea of Meanness. From that Principle 'tis easy to infer, that such things as produce in us great Motions of Spirits, must naturally appear greater, stronger, and more real and perfect than others; for in the word Greatness I comprehend all those Qualifications, and such like. So that sensible Good must needs seem to us more considerable and solid, than that which cannot be felt; if we judge of it by the Motion of the Spirits, and not by the pure Idea of Truth. A great House, a sumptuous Retinue, a fine Furniture, Offices, Honour, Riches, will then appear to us to have more greatness and reality in them than Justice and other Vertues.

When we compare Vertue to Riches by the pure Eyes of the Mind, we prefer Vertue: but if we make use of our Corporeal Eyes and Imagination, and judge of those things by the Motion of the Spirits, which they raise in us, we shall doubtless chuse Riches rather than Vertue.

'Tis from the same Principle that we imagine that spiritual and insensible things are almost no∣thing; that the Ideas of our Mind are less noble than the Objects they represent; that there is less reality and substance in the Air than in Metalls, and in Water than in Ice; that those vast Spa∣ces that reach from the Earth to the Firmament, are empty, or that the Bodies that fill them have not so much reality and solidity, as the Sun and Stars. In short, our reasoning upon that false Prin∣ciple induces us into an infinite number of Errours, concerning the Nature and Perfection of eve∣ry thing.

A great Motion of Spirits, and by consequence a strong Passion, always attending the sensible Idea of Grandeur, and a small Motion, and consequently a weak Passion, still accompanying the sensible Idea of Meanness; we are very attentive to, and bestow a great deal of our time on the stu∣dy of such things as raise the sensible Idea of Grandeur; whereas we neglect those which afford but the sensible Idea of Meanness. Those great Bodies, for instance, which make their Circumvo∣tions over our Heads, have ever made a great Impression upon Men, who at first ador'd them, be∣cause of their Light and Brightness, or sensible Idea of Grandeur; some bolder Wits presum'd to examine their Motions: so that the Stars have been in all Ages the Object, either of the Study, or of the Veneration of the greatest part of Mankind. It may even be said, that the fear of their Phan∣tastick

Influences, which still fright Astrologers and weak Persons, is a sort of Adoration, paid by a Brain-sick Imagination, to the Idea of Greatness that represents Celestial Bodies.

But the Body of Man, on the contrary, that is infinitely more admirable, and deserves more our Application, than whatever we can know of Saturn, Jupiter, and other Planets, has remained a long time almost unknown. The sensible Idea of dissected parts of Flesh, having nothing great, but being rather distastful and noisome; it is but a few years since Men of Parts have looked upon A∣natomy, as a Science that deserved their study. There have been Princes and Kings that boasted of being Astronomers; the height and magnitude of the Stars seem'd to suit their Dignity and Grandeur: but I know not of any that were ever ambitious of knowing Anatomy, and skilfully dissecting a Heart, or a Brain. The same may be said of several other Sciences.

Rare and extraordinary things incite in Mens Minds greater and more sensible Motions, than such as are seen every day; we admire them, and by a natural Consequence we fix on them an Idea of Greatness, that is followed with Passions of Esteem and Reverence. This perverts the Reason of several Persons, who are so very respectful and curious of all the Remains of Antiquity, and whatever comes from far, or is rare and extraordinary, that they are as Slaves to them; because the Mind dares not sit and pronounce upon the Objects of its Veneration.

I grant Truth is in no great danger, because some Men are taken up with the Medals, Arms and Habits of the Ancients, or with the Dress of the Chinese and Savages. It is not altogether un∣serviceable, to know the Map of Ancient Rome, nor the ways from Tomquin to Nanquin, though it be more useful to us to know those from London to Oxford, or from Paris to St. Germain or Versailles. In short, we cannot find fault with those that will enquire into the History of the Wars betwixt the Greeks and Persians, betwixt the Tartars and Chinese; let them have for Thucydides, Xenophon, or any other whatsoever, as much Inclinations as they please. But we can∣not suffer that Admiration of Antiquity should lord it over Reason; that it should be forbidden to make use of our Understanding in examining the Opinions of the Ancients, and that the Dis∣covery and Demonstration of their Errours should pass for a rash and presumptuous Attempt.

Truth is of all Times and Ages. If Aristotle did discover it, it may still be found out: his Opi∣nions are to be proved by strong Reasons; for if they were solid in his time, they will be so in ours. 'Tis to deceive our selves, to pretend to demonstrate natural Truths by humane Authorities. It may perhaps be proved, that Aristotle has had such and such Thoughts, upon such and such Sub∣jects; but 'tis a very slender improvement of Reason, to read Aristotle, or any other Author, with great Diligence and Trouble, that we may historically learn his Opinions, and teach them to others.

We cannot without Indignation look on some Universities that were established for the Enquiry and Defence of Truth, and are now turned into particular Sects, and boast of studying and main∣taining the Opinions of some Men. We are ready to fall into Passion at the reading of those Philosophers and Physicians, who store their Books with so many Quotations, that one would rather take them for Commentaries of the Civil and Cannon Law, than for Tracts of Natural Philosophy and Physick. For who can suffer that Reason and Experience should be deserted, and the Fancies of Plato, Aristotle, Epi••urus, or any other Philosopher, blindly followed.

Such strange methods would perhaps strike us dumb with Amazement, though we were not hurt by them; I mean, though these Gentlemen did not impung the Truth, which alone we think our selves obliged to espouse: But their admiring the Dreams of the Ancients inspires them with a blind Zeal against Truths newly discovered; they cry them down without knowing them; they oppose them without understanding them, and by the strength of their Imagination infuse their Sentiments into the Minds and Hearts of their Auditors and Admirers.

As they judge of those new Discoveries by the Esteem they have for their Authors, and that their Contemporaries which they have seen and convers'd with, have not that big and extraordinary Appearance, which the Imagination attributes to Ancient Authors; so they have no Consideration for the Modern. For the Idea of the Men of our Age raises nothing but Contempt, because it is not attended with violent and surprizing Motions.

Limners and Statuaries never represent Ancient Philosophers as other Men, but give them a big Head, and a broad and high Fore-head, and a long and venerable Beard. That's a good Ar∣gument to prove that the Vulgar Sort has some such Idea of them; for Painters picture things as they represent them to themselves, and follow the Natural Motions of the Imagination; and so for the most part we look on the Ancients as Uncommon Men. Whereas Imagination representing Men of our Age like to those with whom we daily converce, and producing no extraordinary Mo∣tion in the Spirits, raises nothing in the Soul but Contempt and Indifferency towards them.

I have seen Des-Crates, said one of those learned Admirers of Antiquity, I have known him, and conversed with him several times; he was an honest Man, and no Fool, but had nothing ex∣traordinary. He had form'd a contemptible Idea of the Cartesian Philosophy, because he had con∣versed with the Author some minutes, and had not observed in him those great and extraordinary Looks that oversway the Imagination. If he were puzzled with some Arguments of that Philo∣sopher, he proudly said, meaning it a sufficient Answer, That he had known him formerly. I could wish those Gentlemen might see Aristotle otherwise than in Picture, and converse an hour with him, provided he should speak French, or English, and not Greek, and not make himself known, before they had declar'd their Opinion of him.

Such things as bear the Character of Novelty, whether they be new in themselves, or appear in a new Order or Situation, agitate us very much, striking the Brain in places that are most sen∣sible,

because least exposed to the Course of the Spirits. Such things as bear a sensible Mark of Greatness, do also strangely move us, because they stir up a great Motion of the Spirits. But such as at once come attended with Characters of Novelty and Greatness, do not simply move us: they overthrow, ravish, stupifie us by their violent Commotions.

For Instance, Those who speak nothing but Paradoxes attract the Admiration of weak Minds, because what they say has the Character of Novelty: those that speak by Sentences, and use high and lofty Flights, inspire Veneration, because they seem to say something great. But those that joyn Loftiness to Novelty, and Greatness to Rarity, never fail of ravishing and stupifying the Vul∣gar Sort, though they should speak but Impertinences; for that pompous and stately Nonsence, insani fulgores, those false Declamatory Glitterings for the most part dazle the Eyes of infirm Minds, and make such a lively and surprizing Impression upon their Imagination, that they know not where they are, that they venerate the Power that blinds 'em, and cast 'em down, and admire, as shining Truths, confused and unexpressible Sensations.

CHAP. VIII.

A Continuation of the same Subject; What good Vse can be made of Admi∣ration, and other Passions.

ALL Passions have two very considerable Effects, for they apply the Mind, and win the Heart: by the former they may, by a due use, be made serviceable to the Knowledge of Truth; because Application produces that light by which it is discovered: but the latter Effect is always disadvan∣tageous; because Passions cannot win the Heart, but by corrupting the Reason; and representing things, not as they are in themselves, or according to Truth, but as they are related to us.

Admiration is, of all Passions, that which least affects the Heart; because 'tis the Sight of things consider'd as Good or Evil, that agitates us, and that the Consideration of their Greatness or Small∣ness, without any other Relation to us, makes but little Impression upon us: so that the Admirati∣on that attends the Knowledge of the Greatness or Littleness of new things, we consider, corrupts the Reason much less than any other Passion; and can even be of great use for the Knowledge of Truth, provided we be very careful to hinder its being followed by other Passions, as it happens for the most part.

In Admiration the Animal Spirits are strongly driven to those places of the Brain, that represent the new Object as it is in it self; which print thereon Traces of it, distinct and deep enough to be long continued, and consequently afford to the Mind a clear Idea, and easie to be remembred; and therefore it cannot be denied, but Admiration may be very useful to Sciences, since it applies and en∣lightens the Mind; whereas other Passions apply the Mind, but enlighten it not. They apply it, because they raise the Animal Spirits, but enlighten it not, or enlighten it with false and deceiving Glimpses, because they drive those Spirits in such a manner, as that they represent Objects, only as they are related to us, and not as they are in themselves.

There is nothing harder, than to apply our selves a considerable time to any thing which we ad∣mire not: because the Vital Spirits are not then easily carried to places fitted to represent them. In vain we are exhorted to be attentive; we can have no Attention, or none sufficiently long, though we may have an abstracted, but not moving Persuasion, That the thing deserves our Application. We must needs deceive our Imagination to quicken our Spirits, and represent to our selves in a new Manner, the Subject on which we will meditate, that we may raise in us some Motion of Admiration.

We meet every day with Men that relish not Study, and find nothing so painful as the Ap∣plication of Mind: They are convinced that they ought to study certain Matters, and to doe their utmost endeavours for it; but their endeavours are, for the most part, vain; their progress is incon∣siderable, and quickly follow'd by weariness. True it is that the Animal Spirits obey the order of the Will, and make us attentive, when we desire it, but when the Commanding Will is the Will of mere Reason, that is not kept up by some Passion, it is so weak and languishing, that our Ideas are like wandering Phantasms, that afford us but a transient glimpse, and vanish in a moment. Our Animal Spirits receive so many private Orders from the Passions, and are become by nature and habit so prone to perform them, that they are easily turn'd from those new and rough ways, through which the Will endeavours to lead them. So that it is especially in such Cases, that we need a particular Grace to know the Truth, since we cannot any considerable time bear up the Mind against the incumbent weight of the Body; or if we can, yet we never doe all we are able.

But when some Motion of Admiration quickens us, the animal Spirits naturally run to the Tracks of the Object which have raised it, represent it clearly to the Mind, and produce in the Brain what∣ever is requir'd to Perspicuity and Evidence, without putting the will to the trouble of managing the rebellious Spirits. Hence it comes that those that are prone to Admiration, are fitter to study than others; are quick and ingenious, and others slow and dull.

In the mean while, when Admiration grows to such an Excess, as to produce Amazement and Stupefaction, or when it does not excite to rational Curiosity, it may prove of very ill Consequence

because the animal Spirits are then taken up with representing the admired Object by one of its Faces, without so much as thinking on the others, which ought no less to be Considered. Those Spirits likewise supersede their spreading through all the parts of the Body for the performance of their ordinary Functions, whilst they imprint such deep Traces of the Object, and break so great a number of the Fibres of the Brain, that that Idea raised by them can never be blotted out of the Mind.

It is not enough that Admiration should make us attentive, unless it makes us curious; neither is it suficient for the full knowledge of an Object, to consider one of its Faces, unless we be so far inquisitive, as to examine them all; that we may judge of it upon sure grounds. And therefore when Admiration moves us not to examine things with the utmost Accuracy, but instead of that stops our Enquiry, it is very unprofitable to the Knowledge of Truth, because it fills up the Mind with likelihoods and probabilities, and incites us to judge rashly and precipitately of all things.

Admiration must not center in its self, but its business is to facilitate Examination. The Ani∣mal Spirits that are naturally excited in Admiration, offer themselves to the Soul, that she may use them to represent the Object more distinctly to her self, and to know it better. This is Na∣ture's Institution, for Admiration ought to move us to Curiosity, and Curiosity to conduct us to the Knowledge of Truth: But the Soul knows not how to make an Advantage of her own Strength; she prefers a certain satisfactory Sensation, that she receives from the plenty of the Spirits that affect her, before the Knowledge of the Object that has raised them; and she chuses rather to be conscious of her own Riches than to dissipate them by use; not much unlike those Misers who chuse rather to hoard up their Treasures, than to supply their wants with them.

Men are generally pleased with whatever raises any kind of Passion. They not only spend Money to be moved to Sorrow, by the Representation of a Tragedy, but they also throw it away upon Legerdemains, that may stir up their Admiration; since it cannot be said that they give it to be deceived. Therefore that inward and satisfactory Sensation, which we are conscious of in Admiration, is the principal cause why we dwell upon it, without putting it to the use which Na∣ture and Reason prescribe to us. For that delectable Sensation so powerfully holds the Admirers Bent to the admired Object, that they will fall into a Passion, if any shew them its Vanity. A mourning Person relishes so well the sweetness of Sorrow, that he's angry with those that go about to make him merry. The case is the same with Admirers; who seem to be wounded by the En∣deavours that are made to demonstrate the unreasonableness of their Admiration, because they feel that the secret Pleasure they receive from that Passion, diminishes proportionably as the Idea that caused it vanishes from the Mind.

The Passions perpetually labour to justifie themselves, and insensibly persuade us we doe well to be led by them. The Satisfaction and Pleasure, with which they affect the Mind, that is to be their Judge, draws it over by degrees to their side, inspiring it with such, and the like Reasons.

We are to judge of things but according to our Ideas, but of all Ideas the most sensible are the most real, since they act upon us with the greatest force, and therefore 'tis by those Ideas that I must judge of them. Now the Subject I admire contains a sensible Idea of Greatness, I must then judge of it by that Idea, for I ought to esteem and love Greatness; and therefore I am in the right when I insist upon, and am taken up with that Object. And indeed the Pleasure which the Contemplation of its Idea affords me is a natural proof that it is for my good to think upon it; since I seem to add to my growth by such thoughts, and fancy that my Mind is more en∣larged by embracing so great an Idea; whereas the Mind ceases to exist when it thinks upon no∣thing. Should that Idea vanish, my Mind, it seems, should vanish with it, or at least become smaller and narrower, if it should fix upon a less considerable Idea; so that the preservation of that great Idea, being the preservation of my own Greatness, and the perfection of my Being, I am in the right to admire; nay others ought to admire me for it, should they give me my due. For I am really something great, by the Relation I have to great things, and I enjoy them in some manner by my Admiration, and that Foretast which a sort of Hope affords me. Other Men would be Happy, as well as I am my self, if, knowing my Greatness, they should fix them∣selves upon the Cause that produces it; but they are blind and insensible to great and fine things, and know not how to raise and make themselves considerable.

It may be said, That the Mind naturally, and without Reflection, argues in some such manner, when it it suffers it self to be led away by the abusive Meteors of the Passions: Those Reasonings have some Likelihood, though their Weakness be sufficiently visible; however, that Probability, or rather the confused Sense of the Probobility that attends natural and inconsiderate Arguments, is so prevalent, that they never fail of seducing us, when we stand not upon our guard.

For Instance, When Poetry, History, Chymistry, or any other Humane Science has struck the Imagination of a young Man with some Motions of Admiration, if he do not carefully watch the Attempt these Motions make upon his Mind, if he examine not to the bottom the Use of those Sciences, if he compare not the Trouble of learning them with the Benefits that may accrue to him; in short, if he be not as nice in his Judgment as he ought to be, he runs the hazard of be∣ing seduced by his Admiration, shewing him only the fairest Part of those Sciences; and 'tis even to be feared, lest they should so far corrupt his Heart, as that he should never awake out of his Dream, even when he comes to know it to be but a Dream; because it is not possible to blot out of the Brain deep Tracks, engraven and widened by a long-continued Admiration. And therefore we ought to take diligent care to keep our Imagination untainted; that is to say, to hinder the

formation of dangerous Traces, that corrupt the Heart and Mind. I shall here set down a very useful Way to prevent not only the Excess of Admiration, but also of all other Passions in general.

When the Motion of the Animal Spirits is so violent, as to imprint on the Brain deep Traces that corrupt the Imagination, it is always attended with some Commotion of the Soul: And as the Soul cannot be moved without being conscious of it, she is thereby sufficiently warn'd to stand upon her guard, and to examine whether it be for her good to suffer those Traces to be en∣larged and finished. But at the time of the Commotion, the Mind is not so free, as rightly to judge of the Usefulness of those Traces, because the same Commotion deceives and inclines it to indulge them: We must therefore endeavour to stop that Commotion, or to turn to some other Place the Current of the Spirits that cause it; and in the mean while 'tis absolutely necessary to suspend our Judgment.

But we ought not to imagine that the Soul always can, by her bare Will, stop the Course of the Spirits that hinder her from making use of her Reason; her ordinary Power being not suffici∣ent to quell Motions not raised by her; so that she must dexterously endeavour to deceive an Enemy that attacks her unawares.

As the Motions of the Spirits stir up respective Thoughts in the Soul, so our Thoughts excite such and such Motions in the Brain; so that to stop a rising Motion of the Spirits, a bare Will is not sufficient, but Stratagem must be us'd; and we must skilfully represent to our selves such Things as are contrary to those that stir up and indulge that Motion, whence a Revulsion will arise: But if we would only determine another way the Motion of the Spirits already risen, we must not think of contrary but only different Things from those that have produced it, which will certainly make a Diversion.

But because the Diversion and Revulsion are great or little, as the new Thoughts are accompa∣nied with a greater or less Motion of the Spirits; we must carefully observe, what sort of Thoughts agitate us most, that we may in urging Occasions represent them to our seducing Ima∣gination, and use our selves so much to that sort of Resistance, that no surprizing Motion may affect our Soul.

If we take care firmly to unite the Idea of Eternity, or some other solid Thought, to those violent and extraordinary Motions, they will never be stirr'd up for the future, without raising that Idea, and furnishing us with Weapons to resist them. This appears from Experience, and from the Reason mention'd in the Chapter Of the Connection of Ideas * 1.32; so that we must not imagine it absolutely impossible, by a dexterous Managery, to conquer our Passions, when we are stedfastly resolv'd upon it.

However, by that Resistance we ought not to pretend to Impeccability, nor to the avoiding of all Errours whatsoever.

First, Because 'tis very difficult to acquire and preserve such a Habit, as that our extraordinary Motions shall raise in us Ideas fit to oppose them.

Secondly, Though we should have gotten that Habit, those Motions of the Spirits will directly excite the Ideas to be impugned, and but indirectly supply us with the necessary Weapons to as∣sault them: So that the Evil Ideas, being still the principal, will be stronger than the Good, that are but accessary; and the latter ever stand in need of the Help of the Will.

Thirdly, Those Motions of the Spirits may be so violent, as to take up the whole Capacity of the Soul; so that there will remain no room, if I may so speak, for the reception of the accessary Idea, that is proper to make a Revulsion in the Spirits; or not at least for such a Reception as may incite us to an attentive Contemplation of it.

Lastly, There are so many particular Circumstances, that can make that Remedy useless, that though it ought not to be neglected, yet we must not relie too much upon it. We must have a perpetual Recourse to Prayer, that we may receive from Heaven necessary Helps in the time of Temptation; and in the mean while endeavour to present to the Mind some Truths so solid and prevalent, as that they may overcome the most violent Passions. For I must needs add by the way, That several pious Persons often return into the same Faults, because they fill their Mind with a great many Truths that are more glittering than solid, and fitter to weaken and dissolve, than to fortifie it against Temptations; whereas others, that are not endued with so much Know∣ledge, faithfully stick to their Duty, because of some great and solid Truth, which they have rendred familiar, and which bears 'em up and strengthens them in all Occasions.

CHAP. IX.

Of Love and Aversion, and their principal Species.

LOve and Hatred are the Passions that immediately succeed Admiration; for we dwell not long upon the Consideration of an Object, without discovering the Relations it hath to us, or to something we love. The Object we love, and to which consequently we are united by that Pas∣sion, being for the most part present, as well as that which we actually admire; our Mind quick∣ly, and without any considerable Reflection, makes the necessary Comparisons, to find out the Re∣lations they have to each other, and to us; or else is naturally aware of them, by a preventing Sense of Pleasure and Pain. Then it is, that the Motion of Love we have for our selves, and

for the beloved Object, extends to that which is admired; if the Relation it has immediately to us, or to something united to us, appear advantageous, either by Knowledge or Sensation. Now that new Motion of the Soul, (or rather that Motion of the Soul newly determin'd, join'd to that of the Animal Spirits, and followed with the Sensation that attends the new Disposition, that the same new Motion of the Spirits produces in the Brain) is the Passion we call here Love.

But when we feel by any Pain, or discover by a clear and evident Knowledge, that the Union or Relation of the admired Object would prove disserviceable to us, or to something united to us, then the Motion of the Love we have for our selves, or for the Thing united to us, terminates in us, or cleaves to the united Object, without following the View of the Mind, or being car∣ried to the admired Thing. But as the Motion towards Good in general, which the Author of Nature continually imprints on the Soul, carries her to whatever is known and felt, because what is either intelligible or sensible is Good in it self; so it may be said, that the Resistance of the Soul against that natural Motion which attracts it, is a kind of voluntary Motion, which termi∣nates in Nothingness. Now that voluntary * 1.33 Motion of the Soul being join'd to that of the Spi∣rits and Blood, and followed by the Sensation that attends the new Disposition, which that Mo∣tion of the Spirits produces in the Brain, is the Passion we call here Aversion or Hatred.

That Passion is altogether contrary to Love, and yet 'tis never without Love: It is altogether contrary to it, because Aversion separates, and Love unites; the former has most commonly No∣thingness for its Object; and the latter has always a Being: The former resists the natural Mo∣tion, and makes it of no effect; whereas the latter yields to it, and makes it victorious. How∣ever, Aversion is never separated from Love, because Evil, the Object of the former, is the Pri∣vation of Good; so that to fly from Evil, is to fly from the Privation of Good; that is to say, to tend to Good: And therefore the Aversion of the Privation of Good, is the Love of Good. But if Evil be taken for Pain, the Aversion of Pain is not the Aversion of the Privation of Plea∣sure; because Pain is as real a Sensation as Pleasure, and therefore is not the Privation of it: But the Aversion of Pain, being the Aversion of some internal Misery, we should not be affected with that Passion, should we not love our selves. Lastly, If Evil be taken for what causes Pain in us, or for whatever deprives us of Good, then Aversion depends on Self-love, or on the Love of something to which we desire to be united: So that Love and Aversion are two Mother-Passions, opposite to each other; but Love is the First, the Chief, and the most Universal.

As at that great Distance and Estrangement we are from God since the Fall, we look upon our Being as the Chief Part of the Things to which we are united; so it may be said in some sense, that our Motion of Love for any thing whatsoever, is an Effect of Self-love. We love Honours, because they raise us; our Riches, because they maintain and preserve us; our Relations, Prince, and Country, because we are concern'd in their Preservation. Our Motion of Self-love reaches to all the Things that relate to us, and to which we are united; because 'tis that Motion which unites us to them, and spreads our Being, if I may so speak, on those that surround us, propor∣tionably as we discover by Reason, or by Sensation, that it is our Interest to be united to them.

And therefore we ought not to think, that, since the Fall, Self-Love is only the Cause and Rule of all other Affections; but, that most part of other Affections are Species of Self-love: For when we say, that a Man loves any new Object, we must not suppose that a new Motion of Love is produc'd in him; but rather, that knowing that Object to have some Relation or Union with him, he loves himself in that Object, and that with a Motion of Love coeval to himself. For in∣deed without Grace there is nothing but Self-love in the Heart of Man: The Love of Truth, of Justice, of God himself, and every other Love that is in us, by the first Institution of Nature, have ever since the Fall been a Sacrifice to Self-love.

There is no doubt, however, but the most wicked and barbarous Men, Idolaters and Atheists themselves, are united to God by a natural Love, of which consequently Self-love is not the Cause; for they are united to him by their Love to Truth, Justice, and Vertue; they praise and esteem good Men, and do not love them because they are Men, but because they see in them such Qualities as they cannot forbear to love, because they cannot forbear to admire and judge them amiable. And therefore we love something besides our selves; but Self-love over-rules all the rest, and Men forsake Truth and Justice for the smallest Concerns: For when by their natu∣ral Force they venture their Goods and Lives to defend oppress'd Innocence, or on any other Oc∣casion, their greatest Spur is mere Vanity, and the hopes of getting a Name by the seeming Pos∣session of a Vertue which is reverenc'd by all the World. They love Truth and Justice when on their side, but never against themselves; because without Grace they cannot obtain the least Vi∣ctory over Self-love.

There are many other sorts of natural Love: We naturally love our Prince, Country, Relations, those that have any Conformity of Humour, Designs, and Employments with us: But all those sorts of Love are very weak, as well as the Love of Truth and Justice; and Self-love being the most violent of all, conquers them so easily, as to find no other Resistance but what it creates against it self.

Bodies that strike against others, lose their Motion proportionably as they communicate it to the stricken; and, after having moved many other Bodies, may at last entirely lose their own Motion. It is not so with Self-love: It determines every other Love by its Impressions upon it,

and its own Motion diminishes not; on the contrary, it gets new Strength by its new Victories: For as that Motion never goes out of the Heart, so it cannot be lost, though it be continually communicated.

Self-love is therefore the Ruling and Universal Love, since it is to be found, and bears the sway every where; so that all the Passions having no proper Motion of their own, it may be said, that Self-love is the most extensive and powerful of all Passions, or the Ruling and Universal Passion. And as all Vertues are but Species of that first Vertue we call Charity, according to St. Austin; so all Vices and Passions are but as so many Effects and Sorts of Self-love, or of that general Vice we call Concupiscence.

We often distinguish in Morals the Vertues or Species of Charity, by the Difference of Ob∣jects; but that sometimes confounds the true Idea we ought to have of Vertue, which rather depends on its own Motive, than any thing else: And therefore we shall not follow that Me∣thod in treating of the Passions, nor distinguish them by the Objects; because one and the same Object may excite them all, and that ten thousand Objects may raise but one. For though Ob∣jects differ from each other, yet they differ not always in relation to us, nor do they stir up in us different Passions. The promis'd Staff of a Mareschal of France differs from a Bishop's Crosier, or Pastoral Staff promis'd; yet those two Marks of Honour excite almost the same Passion in the Ambitious, since they raise in the Mind of both the same Idea of Good. But the same Mare∣schal's Staff, when promised, granted, enjoyed, taken away, stirs up Passions altogether different, because it raises in the Mind different Ideas of Good.

We must not then multiply the Passions by their different Objects that cause them; but only admit as many as there are accessary Ideas that attend the chief Idea of Good or Evil, and consi∣derably alter it in relation to us. For the general Idea of Good, or the Sensation of Pleasure, which is good to him that enjoys it, agitating the Soul and Animal Spirits, produces the general Passion of Love; and the accessary Ideas of that Good determine that general Agitation of Love, and Course of the Spirits in such a particular manner, as puts the Mind and Body in a conveni∣ent Disposition in relation to the perceived Good: And thus they produce all the particular Passions.

And therefore the general Idea of Good produces an indeterminate Love, which is but an Ex∣tension of Self-love. The Idea of Good, as possess'd, produces a Love of Joy: The Idea of Good, not as possess'd, but hop'd for, that is, as judg'd possible to be possess'd, produces a Love of Desire: And lastly, The Idea of any Good, that is neither possess'd nor hop'd for; or, which is the same, the Love of any Good which we cannot hope to enjoy without losing some other, or which we cannot preserve when we are possess'd of it, produces a Love of Sorrow. Those are the Three simple and primitive Passions that have Good for their Object; for the Hope that produces Joy, is not a Commotion of the Soul, but a simple Judgment.

However, we must observe, That Men confine not their own being within themselves, but ex∣tend it to all Things and Persons, to whom they believe it their Advantage to unite themselves: So that we must conceive that they are possess'd in some manner of a Good, when enjoy'd by their Friends, though they do not possess it immediately themselves: And therefore when I say, That the Possession of Good produces Joy, I understand it not only of an immediate Possession or Union, but also of any other; for we naturally feel a Joy upon the Success or good Fortune of those we love,

Evil, as I said, can be taken Three ways; for the Privation of Good, for Pain, and for the Thing that causes the Privation of Good, or produces Pain.

In the first sense, the Idea of Evil being the same with the Idea of a Good not enjoy'd, it is plain that Idea produces Sorrow, or Desire, or even Joy; for Joy is always excited from that we find our selves exempt of the Privation of Good, that is to say, when we possess Good: So that those Passions that refer to Evil, taken in that sense, are the same as those that relate to Good, because at the Bottom they have likewise Good for their Object.

When Evil signifies Pain, which alone is always a real Evil to him that suffers it, whilst he suffers it; then the Sense of that Evil produces those Passions of Sorrow, Desire, and Joy, that are Species of Aversion, and not of Love; because their Motion is altogether opposite to that which accompanies the Perception of Good, that Motion being but the Resistance of the Soul against the natural Impression.

The Actual Sense of Pain produces an Aversion of Sorrow. The Pain we suffer not, but are afraid to suffer, produces an Aversion of Desire. And lastly, the Pain we neither suffer, nor are afraid to suffer; or, what is the same, the Pain that shall be attended by a considerable Re∣ward, or the Pain from which we are freed, produces an Aversion of Joy. Those are the Three simple or primitive Passions that have Evil for their Object; for the Fear that produces Sorrow, is not a Commotion of the Soul, but a bare Judgment.

Lastly, If by Evil we understand the Person or the Thing that deprives us of Good, or causes us to endure Pain, the Idea of Evil produces a Motion of Love and Aversion together, or only a Motion of Aversion: The former, when the Evil is that which deprives us of Good; for by the same Motion we tend towards Good, and fly from that which hinders its Possession: And the latter, when 'tis the Idea of an Evil which causes Pain in us; for 'tis by the same Motion of Aversion that we hate Pain, and whatever produces it.

And therefore there are Three simple or primitive Passions that relate to Good, and as many that refer to Pain, or to that which causes it, viz. Joy, Desire, and Sorrow. For we are joyful

when Good is present, and Evil is past; we are sorrowful when Good is gone, and Pain is pre∣sent; and we are agitated with Desires when Good and Evil are to come.

Those Passions that relate to Good are particular Determinations of that Motion God gives us for Good in general, and therefore have a real Object; but others, who have not God for the Cause of their Motion, terminate only in Nothingness.

CHAP. X.

Of Passions in particular; and in general of the way to explain them, and to know the Errours they cause.

WHen we consider how Passions are formed, it visibly appears, that their Number is unde∣terminable, or that there are more than we have Terms to express them by. For Passions differ not only by the various Complication of the Three first Primitive, which would not encrease them to a great Number; but also differ by the different Perceptions and Judgments that cause or accompany them. Those different Judgments of the Soul, concerning Good or Evil, produce different Motions in the Animal Spirits, to dispose the Body in relation to the Object, and conse∣quently cause in the Soul Sensations that are not altogether like: Whence it proceeds, that some Passions are observ'd to differ from each other, though their Commotions be not different.

In the mean while, the Commotion of the Soul being the chief Thing observable in every Pas∣sion, 'tis better to refer them to the Three original Passions, in which those Commotions are very different, than to treat confusedly and disorderly of them, in reference to the different Percepti∣ons we may have of the Good and Evil that raises them. For we may have so many different Perceptions of Objects, in reference to Time, to our selves, to what belongs to us, to the Per∣sons or Things to which we are united, either by Nature or Choice, that it is wholly impossible to make an accurate Enumeration of them▪

When the Soul perceives any Good which she cannot enjoy, it may perhaps be said, that she hopes for it, though she desires it not: However, 'tis plain, that this her Hope is not a Passion, but a simple Judgment. And therefore 'tis the Commotion that attends the Idea of any Good, of which we take the Enjoyment to be possible, that adopts Hope into a true Passion. It is the same when Hope grows into Security: For the latter is a Passion, only because of the Commoti∣on of Joy that mixes with that of Desire; since the Judgment of the Soul that considers any Good as certain, is a Passion but as much as it is a foregoing Taste of the Good that affects us. Last of all, When Hope diminishes, and is succeeded by Despair, 'tis visible again, that the latter is a Passion but because of the Commotion of Sorrow that mixes with that of Desire; for the Judgment of the Soul, that considers any Good as unattainable, would not be a Passion, should we not be actuated by that Judgment.

But because the Soul never looks upon Good or Evil without any Commotion, and even with∣out any Alteration in the Body, we often give the Name of Passion to the Judgment that produ∣ces it, confounding together whatever happens both to the Soul and Body at the sight of any Good or Evil: For the Words, Hope, Fear, Boldness, Shame, Impudence, Anger, Pity, Derision, Grief, and the Names of all other Passions in common use, are short Expressions made up of se∣veral Terms, by which can be explain'd in particular whatever Passions contain.

We understand by the Word Passion the View of the Relation any thing has to us, the Com∣motion and Sensation of the Soul, the Concussion of the Brain, and the Motion of the Spirits, a new Commotion and Sensation of the Soul; and lastly, a Sensation of Pleasure that always at∣tends the Passions, and makes them grateful. All these we commonly understand by the Name of Passions; but sometimes it only signifies either the Judgment that raises it, or only the Commoti∣on of the Soul, or the bare Motion of the Spirits and Blood, or lastly, something else that ac∣companies the Commotion of the Soul.

It is very useful, for the Knowledge of Truth, to abridge Ideas and Expressions; but that of∣ten causes some considerable Errour, especially when those Ideas are abridg'd by popular Use: For we ought never to abridge them, but when we have made them very clear and distinct, by a great Application of Mind; and not, as 'tis ordinarily done, as to Passions and sensible Things, when we have made them familiar to us by their Sensations, and the mere Action of the Imagi∣nation, which easily imposes on the Mind.

There is a great difference betwixt the pure Ideas of the Mind, and the Sensations or Com∣motions of the Soul. Pure Ideas are clear and distinct, but 'tis a hard Task to make them fami∣liar; whereas Sensations and Commotions are intimate with us, but can never plainly and di∣stinctly be known. Numbers, Extension, and their Properties, may be clearly known; but un∣less we make them sensible by some expressive Characters, 'tis very difficult to represent them to our Mind, because whatever is abstracted moves us not. On the contrary, the Commotions and Sensations of the Soul may easily be represented to the Mind, though the Knowledge we have of them be but confused and imperfect; for all the Words that raise them, lively strike the Soul, and make it attentive. Thence it proceeds, that we often imagine we rightly understand some Discourses that are altogether incomprehensible; and that reading some Descriptions of the Sen∣sations

and Passions of the Soul, we persuade our selves that we perfectly comprehend them; be∣cause they strongly move us, and that all the Words that reverberate upon our Eyes agitate our Soul. The hearing of the very Names of Shame, Despair, Impudence, &c. straightway excite in our Mind a confused Idea, and obscure Sensation, that powerfully influences us; and because this Sensation is very familiar to us, and presents it self without any Trouble or Endeavour of the Mind, we fancy it to be clear and distinct. These Words, however, are the Names of compounded Passions, and by consequence abridg'd Expressions, which popular Use has made up of many confused and obscure Ideas.

Seeing we are oblig'd to employ such Terms as common Use has approv'd of, the Reader should not be surpriz'd to meet with Obscurity, and sometimes with a sort of Contradiction in our Words. And if it were but consider'd that the Sensations and Commotions of the Soul, that an∣swer to the Terms us'd in such Discourses, are not wholly the same in all Men, because of their different Dispositions of Mind, they would not so easily condemn us, when they could not enter in∣to our Opinions. This I say, not so much to prevent Objections against my self, as that we may un∣derstand the Nature of the Passions, and what we are to think of Books treating of such Matters.

After so many Cautions, I shall not stick to say, that all the Passions may be referr'd to the three Primitive, namely, Desire, Joy and Sorrow; and that it is specially by the different Judg∣ments the Soul makes of Goods and Evils, that such as relate to the same Primitive Passion dif∣fer from each other.

For Instance, I may say that Hope, Fear, and Irresolution, that is the Mean betwixt them both, are Species of Desire: That Boldness, Courage and Emulation, &c. have a greater Relation to Hope, than to all others; and that Timidity, Cowardise, Jealousie, &c. are Species of Fear.

I may say, that Alacrity and Glory, Kindness and Gratefulness, are Species of Joy, caused by the Sight of the Good that we know to be in us, or in those to whom we are united; as Derision or Jeering is a sort of Joy, commonly arising at the Sight of the Evil that befalls those from whom we are separated. Lastly, That Distaste, Tediousness, Regret, Pity, Indignation, are so many kinds of Sorrow, caused by the Consideration of something displeasing.

But besides those Passions, and several others I pass by, which particularly relate to some of the Primitive Passions, there are yet many others, whose Commotion is almost equally compounded, either of Desire and Joy, as Impudence, Anger and Revenge; or of Desire and Sorrow, as Shame, Regret and Vexation; or of all Three together, when Motives of Joy and Sorrow meet. And though these last Passions have no particular Names that I know of, they are however the most common; because in this Life we scarce ever enjoy any Good without a Mixture of Evil, nor suffer any Evil without Hopes of being freed of it, and enjoying Good. And though Joy be altogether contrary to Sorrow, yet it allows of its Company, and even admits it an equal Sharer in the Capa∣city of the Soul as Volent, when the Sight of Good and Evil divide its Capacity as Intelligent.

All the Passions therefore are Species of Desire, Joy and Sorrow; and the chief difference be∣twixt those of the same sort must be taken from the different Perceptions or Judgments that cause or accompany them. So that to become learned in the Nature of Passions, and to make of them the most accurate Enumeration possible, it is requisite to enquire into the different Judgments that may be made of Good and Evil. But as we especially intend to find out the Cause of our Errours, we need not so much to insist upon the Judgments that precede or cause the Passions, as upon those that follow them, and which the Soul makes of Things when she is agitated by some Passion, because those last Judgments are the most liable to Errour.

Such Judgments as precede and cause the Passions, are almost ever false in something, because they are, for the most part, grounded upon such Perceptions of the Soul as consider Objects in rela∣tion to her, and not as they are in themselves. But the Judgments that follow the Passions are false all manner of ways; because such Judgments being only made by the Passions, are only grounded upon the Perceptions the Soul has of Objects as relating to her, or rather to her own Commotion.

In the Judgments that precede the Passions, Truth and Falshood are join'd together; but when the Soul is agitated, and judges by every Inspiration of the Passion, Truth vanishes, and Falshood remains to be the Principle of so many more false Conclusions as the Passion is greater.

All Passions justifie themselves, continually offering to the Soul the moving Object, in the fittest way for preserving and increasing her Commotion. The Judgment, or the Perception that causes it, gets still new Forces from the Increase of the Passion, and the Passion likewise augments pro∣portionably as the Judgment that produces it, in its turn, is strengthen'd.

Thus false Judgments and Passions join in Confederacy, for their mutual Preservation. And should the Heart never cease sending up Spirits for keeping open the Tracks of the Brain, and supplying the Expences, which that violent Sensation or Commotion make of the same Spirits, Passions would perpetually increase, and never allow us to be sensible of our Errours. But as all our Passions depend on the Fermentation and Circulation of the Blood, and that the Heart can ne∣ver furnish as many Spirits as are necessary for their Preservation, they must needs expire when the Spirits diminish, and the Blood grows cool again.

Though it be an easie matter to discover the ordinary Judgments of Passions, yet 'tis not a thing to be neglected; there being few Subjects that deserve more the Application of an Enquirer after Truth, who endeavours to free himself from the Dominion of the Body, and will judge of every thing by true Ideas.

We may instruct our selves in this Matter two ways, either by pure Reason, or by our inward Consciousness, when we are agitated by some Passion. For Instance, Experience teaches us,

That we are apt to judge of those we love not, to their Disadvantage, and to spit all the Venom of our Hatred at the Object of our Passion. We also know by Reason, that as we cannot hate but what is Evil; so 'tis necessary for the preservation of Hatred, that the Mind should represent to it self the worst part of its Object. For 'tis sufficient to suppose that all Passions justifie themselves, and give such a Disposition, first to the Imagination, then to the Mind, as is fit to preserve their own Commotion, directly to conclude what are the Judgments which all the Passions cause us to make.

Those that are endued with a strong and lively Imagination, that are extremely sensible, and much subject to the Motions of Passions, may perfectly inform themselves of those things by their own inward sense; and it often comes to pass, that they speak of them in a more pleasing and in∣structing manner than others, whose Reason over-tops their Imagination: yet it follows not, that those that discover best the Springs of Self-love, that penetrate farthest into Man's Heart, and more sensibly discover its Recesses, are always the greatest Understandings. This only proves that they are livelier, quicker of Imagination, and sometimes more malicious than others.

But those that without consulting their inward Sense, make use only of their Reason to enquire into the Nature and Effects of Passions; though they be not always so quick-sighted as others, are always more rational, and less obnoxious to Errour; because they judge of things as they are in themselves: They see very near what Men posse••t with Passions can doe, as they suppose them more or less agitated; but do not rashly judge of the Actions of others, by what they would doe themselves in such Occasions; for they well know, that Men are not equally sensible to the same things, nor alike susceptible of involuntary Commotions, and therefore 'tis not by consulting our Sensations which the Passions create in us, but by listening to Reason, that we must treat of the Judgments that accompany them; lest we should draw our own Picture, instead of discovering the Nature of Passions in general.

CHAP. XI.

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

WE need no long deduction of Arguments to demonstrate, That all Passions justifie them∣selves: That Principle is sufficiently evident, both by our internal Consciousness of our selves, and the Behaviour of those we see agitated by them; and therefore we need only barely propound it, to consider it as we should do. The Mind is such a Slave to the Imagination, that it always obeys when the Imagination is over-heated; and dares not answer when the same is in∣censed, because it meets with Abuses when it resists, and is always rewarded with some Pleasure when it humours that imperious Faculty. Even those whose unruly Imagination persuades them they are transmuted into Beasts, find out Reasons to prove they must live as Beasts do, walk Four-footed, eat Grass, and imitate every Action that is purely Brutal. They find Pleasure in living by the Impressions of their Passion, and suffer inward Pain in resisting it; which is suffici∣ent to make Reason, that commonly descends to be the Slave to Pleasure, to argue in such a man∣ner as may best defend the Cause of it.

If therefore it be true that all Passions justifie themselves, 'tis evident that Desire must of it self move us to judge favourably of its Object, if it be a Desire of Love, and unkindly if it be a Desire of Aversion. The Desire of Love is a Motion of the Soul raised by the Spirits, that provoke it to the Enjoyment or Use of such things as are not in its power; for we desire even the Continuation of our Enjoyment, because future things depend not on us. 'Tis then necessary for the Justifica∣tion of that Desire, that the Object which produces it be esteemed good in it self, or in reference to something else: the contrary must be said of that Desire, which is a kind of Aversion.

I grant, we cannot judge any thing to be good or bad, without some Reason; but Passions have no Object which is not good in some sense. And if it may be said there are some, which contain no real Goodness, and therefore cannot be contemplated as Good by the Mind; yet no one can say but they may be enjoyed as Good, since they are supposed to agitate us; and that Commotion, Enjoyment, or Sense is more than sufficient to move the Soul to entertain a kind Opinion of the Object.

If we so easily judge that Fire contains in it self the Heat we feel, and Bread the Savour we relish, because of the Sensation those Bodies excite in us; though that be never so incomprensible to the Mind, which cannot conceive Heat and Savour as Modifications of a Body: thence it fol∣lows, That there is no Object of our Passions, how vile and contemptible soever it appears, but we may judge it good, when the Enjoyment of it affects us with pleasure. For as we imagine that Heat goes out of Fire when we feel it, so we blindly believe, that the Objects of the Passions cause the pleasure which we receive in their Enjoyment, and that therefore they are good, since they are able to doe us good. The like may be said of the Passions that have Evil for their Object.

But, as I said just before, there is nothing but deserves either Love or Aversion, either by it self, or by something else to which it relates; and when we are agitated with some Passion, we quickly discover in its Object the Good or Evil that may nourish the same. It is therefore easie to know by Reason the Judgments which our Passions make, whilst agitating us.

For, if a Desire of Love move us, we may well conceive that it will not fail to justifie it self, by the favourable Judgments it shall make of its Object. We easily perceive that those Judgments will have more Extent, as the Desire shall be more violent; and that they will be sometimes absolute and without exception, though but a very small part of the thing appears good. We may without difficulty understand that those favourable Judgments will reach all things, that shall have, or seem to have, any Connection with the principal Object of the Passion, proportionably to the strength of the Passion, and the Extent of the Imagination. The contrary will happen if it be a Desire of A••version, the Reasons of which are as easily comprehended, and perfectly confirmed and made good by Experience. But let us make these Truths more sensible and familiar by some Instances.

Men naturally desire Knowledge, because all Minds are created for Truth. But that Desire, how just and reasonable soever it may be in it self, often becomes a dangerous Vice, by the false Judg∣ments that attend it; Curiosity frequently offers to the Mind vain Objects of its Study and Lucubra∣tions, ascribes to them false Ideas of Greatness, ennobles them with the deceiving Lustre of Rari∣ty, and dresses them up with such gay and splendid Apparel, that one can hardly forbear to Con∣template them with too much Pleasure and Application.

There is no Trifle but will wholly take up some Persons, whose fruitless Toil is still justified by the false Judgments that arise from their vain Curiosity. For instance, those that bestow their time in Learning Tongues, imagine that all the Sciences consist in the Knowledge of Terms, and find out a Thousand Reasons to justifie themselves; and the Veneration those pay them whom an un∣known Term confounds, is none of the weakest, though the least reasonable.

Some Persons employ their whole lives in learning to speak, who ought perhaps to hold their Peace all the while; since 'tis evident he ought to be silent, who has nothing worth the hearing to say. But 'tis not that which they propose from their Learning. They should know that he must think well, use his Understanding to exactness, discern Truth from Falshood, clear Ideas from obscure, those of the Mind from those of the Imagination, that will speak accurately. They imagine themselves fine and uncommon Wits, because they know how to please the Ear with an Elegant Harmony, how to flatter the Passions by Figures and ••aking Gestures; how to rejoyce the Imagination by lively and sen∣sible Expressions; whilst they leave the Mind empty of Ideas, void of Light and Understanding.

Some probable reason may justifie their Passion, that spend a great deal of time in the study of their own Tongue, since they make use of it all their Life; but as to those who indifferently apply them∣selves to all sorts of Languages, I know not what to say in their behalf. The Passion of those who make a complete Library of all sorts of Dictionaries, may be excusable, as well as the Curiosity of those, who make a collection of Coins and Medals of all Countries and Times; that may be useful in some occasions, and if it doe them not much good, at least it does them no harm; a Store-house of such Curiosities being not cumber••ome, since they carry not with them either their Books or Medals. But how may the Passion of those be justifiable, that make their Head a Library of Dictionaries, that neglect their Affairs and Essential Duties for words of no use. They are smatterers in their own Tongue, frequently mingling strange and unknown words in their Discourses, and never paying their Countreymen with Current Money. Their Reason seems not to be better guided than their Tongue; for all the Corners and Recesses of their Memory are so full of Etymologies, that their Minds must lie as stifl'd under the innumerable number of words that are perpetually flying about it.

However, it must be granted that Philologers and Linguists will not stick for Reasons to justifie their capricious Studies. Which to know, you need but to listen to the Judgments those preten∣ders to Science make of Tongues; or suppose some Opinions, that are taken amongst them for un∣doubted Axioms, together with the Inferences that may be deduc'd from them. For instance, that those Persons who speak several Tongues, are as many individual Men as they know different Langua∣ges, since Speech distinguishes us from Beasts; that the Ignorance of Tongues deprives us of a mul∣titude of things, since Ancient Philosophers and Strangers are more Learned then we. Suppose but these and the like Principles and Conclusions, and you'll quickly form such Judgments as are fit to beget the Passion for Tongues, and consequently like those, wherewith the same Passion inspires the Linguists to vindicate their Studies.

There is not a Science so abject and contemptible, but some part of it will shine very bright to the Imagination, and dazle the Mind, when Passion heightens those false Glimpses. That Splen∣dour, I own, vanishes when the Blood and Spirits cool, and the Light of Truth begins to shine; but that Light disappears also, when the Imagination grows warm again, and leaves but some tran∣sitory Shadows of those solid Reasons which pretended to condemn our Passion.

Farthermore, when the Passion that agitates us finds it self a dying, it repents not of its demea∣nour, but on the contrary it disposes all things, either to an honourable Funeral, or to be reviv'd spe∣dily again; that is to say, it always prepares the Mind to frame Judgments in its Vindication. In this condition it makes a sort of Alliance with such other Passions as may keep it up in its weakness, supply it with Spirits and Blood, in its necessity; raise it out of its Ashes, and give it a new Birth. For Passions are not unconcern'd for one another, and those that can live together, faithfully contribute to their mutual preservation. So that all the Passions that are not contrary to the Studies of Tongues, or of any thing else, do continually sollicite and fully confirm those Judgments that are made to vindicate it.

A Pretender to Learning imagines himself, now as surrounded with respectfull Hearers, then as Conquerour of those whom he has amaz'd with his unintelligible words; and almost always as one rais'd far above the common sort of Men. He flatters himself with the Commendations he receives, with the Preferments that are proposed to him, with the Courtship that is made to him.

He's of all Times and Countries: He is not limited, as vulgar Wits, to the present, nor confin'd within the Walls of his Town; but is continually communicating himself abroad, and his Com∣munication makes his Delight. See how many Passions combine together to manage the Cause of pretended Learning, how hotly they prosecute their Judgments, and bribe the Mind in its favour.

Should every Passion act separately, without caring for the rest, they would vanish immediately after their Rise, not being able to make a sufficient number of false Judgments to maintain them∣selves, and defend the Glimmerings of Imagination against the Light of Reason: But all Passions concur admirably well to their mutual Preservation, assisting and strengthning each other, though never so remote, provided they be not declared Enemies, as though they were minded to follow the Rules of a well-order'd State.

If the Passion of Desire were alone, all the Judgments it might pass would only amount to represent the Good as attainable: For the Desire of Love, consider'd as such, is produced by the Judgments we make, that it is possible to enjoy such a Good: And so this Desire could only form Judgments about the Possibility of enjoying it; since the Judgments which follow and preserve the Passions, are exactly like those which precede and produce them. But that Desire is animated by Love, fortified by Hope, increased by Joy, renewed by Fear, attended by Courage, Emulation, Anger, Irresolution, and several other Passions, that form each in their turn a great variety of Judgments, which succeed each other, and maintain the Desire that has produced them. 'Tis not therefore strange that the desire of a mere Trifle, or of a Thing that is evidently hurtful or fruit∣less, should however justifie it self against Reason for many Years, nay, during the whole Life of a Man that is agitated with it, since so many other Passions endeavour to vindicate it. I shall here set down in few Words how Passions justifie themselves, that I may explain Things by distinct Ideas.

Every Passion agitates the Blood and Spirits, which, when agitated, are driven into the Brain by the sensible Sight of the Object, or the Strength of the Imagination, in such a manner as is fit to imprint deep Tracks representing that Object. They bend, and even sometimes break by their impetuous Course the Fibres of the Brain, and thereby leave the Imagination soil'd and corrupted. For these Traces obey not the Commands of Reason, nor will they be blotted out when it pleases; on the contrary, they put a Force upon it, and oblige it incessantly to consider Objects in such a manner as moves and inclines it to favour the Passions. Thus the Passions act upon the Imagination, and the corrupted Imagination makes an Effort against Reason, by conti∣nually representing Things not as they are in themselves, that the Mind might pronounce a true Judgment; but as they are in reference to the present Passion, that it might pass a favourable Sen∣tence in its behalf.

The Passions not only bribe the Imagination and Mind in their favour, but produce in other Parts of the Body such Dispositions as are necessary to preserve them. The Spirits they move, stop not in the Brain, but run, as I have elsewhere shewn, to all other Parts of the Body, especi∣ally to the Heart, the Liver, the Spleen, and the Nerves that surround the principal Arteries; and lastly, to all Parts whatsoever, that may supply necessary Spirits for the maintenance of the predominant Passion. But while these Spirits disperse themselves into all the Parts of the Body, they destroy all along, and by degrees, whatever might hinder their Course, and make their Pas∣sages so slippery and smooth, that a very inconsiderable Object exceedingly moves us, and conse∣quently inclines us to make such Judgments as favour the Passions: Thus it comes to pass, that they establish and justifie themselves.

If we consider how various the Constitution of the Fibres of the Brain, and withal the Com∣motion and Quantity of the Spirits and Blood may be, in the different Sexes and Ages, we shall easily and nearly conjecture to what Passions some Persons are most subject, and consequently, what Judgments they pass upon Objects. For instance, we may make a very near Guess, by the plenty or want of Spirits that is observable in some People, the same Thing being proposed and explain∣ed to them in the same manner, that some of them will make Judgments of Hope and Joy, whilst others shall pass such Judgments as proceed from Fear and Sorrow.

For those that abound with Blood and Spirits, as young Men, cholerick Persons, and those that are of a Sanguine Complexion use to doe, being very susceptible of Hope, because of the secret Sense of their Strength, will not believe that they shall meet with any Opposition to their De∣signs, which they may not overcome; and so will quickly feed themselves with a borrowed Taste of the Good they hope to enjoy, and will pass such Judgments as are fit to justifie their Hope and Joy. But those that want agitated Spirits, as Old Men, and those that are of a Phlegmatick and Melancholy Temper, being inclined to Fear and Sorrow, because their Soul is conscious of her own Weakness, and destitute of Spirits to perform her Orders, will make quite contrary Judg∣ments, imagine insuperable Difficulties to justifie their Fear, and give up themselves to Envy, Sorrow, Despair, and other sorts of Aversion, of which weak Persons are most susceptible.

CHAP. XII.

That such Passions as have Evil for their Object, are the most Dangerous and Vnjust: And that those that have the least Mixture of Knowledge, are the most lively and sensible.

OF all the Passions the several sorts of Aversions make their Judgments the most remote from Reason, and the most dangerous; there being no Passion which corrupts and bribes Reason so much in its behalf, as Hatred and Fear; Hatred chiefly in the Cholerick, or in those whose Spirits are in a perpetual agitation; and Fear in the Melancholy, or those whose gross and heavy Spirits are neither easily moved, nor soon quieted. But when ••atred and Fear conspire together to bribe Reason, which is very frequently done, then there are no Judgments so unjust and capri∣cious, but they will pass and defend them with an insuperable Obstinacy.

The Reason of this is, That as in this Life Evil strikes the Soul more to the quick, than Good; so the Sense of Pain is livelier than that of Pleasure: Injuries and Scandals more sensibly affect us, than Commendations and Applause; and though there are Men indifferent as to the enjoying some Pleasures, and receiving certain Honours; yet there is scarce one that can bear Pain and Con∣tempt without Uneasiness.

And therefore Hatred, Fear, and other sorts of Aversion, that have Evil for their Object, are most violent Passions, which shake the Mind with such unexpected Commotions, as discompose and stupifie it, and quickly pierce into the bottom of the Heart, dethrone Reason, and pass upon all sorts of Subjects erroneous and unjust Sentences, to favour their tyrannical Madness.

Of all Passions they are the most cruel and distrustful, contrary to Charity and Civil Society, and at the same time the most ridiculous and extravagant, since they give such impertinent and frantick Judgments, as excite the Laughter and Indignation of all other Men.

Those Passions inspired the Pharisees with these absurd Discourses: What are we doing? This Man works many Miracles:* 1.34 If we let him alone, all Men will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our City and Nation. They agreed that our Saviour had wrought many Mi∣racles; for the Resurrection of Lazarus was undeniable: But what were the Judgments of their Passions? To murther both JESUS and Lazarus whom he had raised from the Dead! Why JESUS? Because, say they, if we let him alone, all Men will believe in him, and the Romans shall come and extirpate our Nation.* 1.35 And why Lazarus? Because that, by reason of him, many of the Jews went away, and believed on Jesus. Oh Judgments equally Cruel and Irrational! Cruel, through Hatred; and Irrational, through Fear: The Romans shall come, and destroy our City and Nation.

The same Passions moved a great Assembly, consisting of Annas the High-Priest, Caiaphas, John, Alexander, and as many as were of the Kindred of the High-Priest, to speak thus: What shall we doe with these Men?* 1.36 For that, indeed, a notable Miracle hath been done by them, is manifest to all them that dwell in Jerusalem, and we cannot deny it. But lest it should spread farther, let us threaten to punish them severely, if they preach the Name of JESUS any more.

All those great Men, agitated by their Passions, and blinded by their false Zeal, pass Judgment both impertinent and unjust. They dare not punish the Apostles, because of the People, and that the Man who had been miraculously cured was above Forty Years of Age, and present in the As∣sembly; but threaten them, lest they should ••each in the Name of Jesus; supposing they ought to condemn the Doctrine,* 1.37 because they put the Author to death: You intend, say they, to bring this Man's Blood upon us.

When false Zeal unites it self to Hatred, it shelters it from the Reproofs of Reason, and justi∣fies it so well, that we scruple not to be led by its Motions. When Ignorance and Weakness ac∣company Fear, they extend it to innumerable Subjects, and drive on its Commotions to that heighth, that the least Suspicion disturbs and frightens Reason.

False Zealots imagine they serve God, when they obey their Passions: They blindly follow the secret Motions of their Hatred, as Inspirations from internal Truth; and insisting with great sa∣tisfaction on the Proofs of Sense that justifie that Excess, their Errours become confirmed with an unconquerable Stubbornness.

As to ignorant and weak Persons, they create to themselves Matter of ridiculous and fantastick Fears; like Children that walk in the dark without a Guide and Light, fansie frightful Bugbears, are distur'd and cry out as though they were undone. Knowledge retrieves them if they be igno∣rant; but if they be weak, their Imagination continues crazed, and the least thing that relates to that frightful Object, renews the Tracks, and opens the Current of the Spirits, which cause the Symptoms of their Fear: So that it is altogether impossible to cure or pacifie them for ever.

But when false Zeal meets with Hatred and Fear in a weak Mind, it incessantly produces such unjust and violent Judgments, as cannot be thought upon without Horrour▪ To change a Mind possest with those Passions, requires a greater Miracle than that which converted St. Paul; and his Cure would be absolutely impossible, could we se•• Bounds to the Power and Mercy of God.

Those that walk in the Dark, rejoyce at the sight of Light; but this Man cannot suffer it, be∣cause

it wounds him by opposing his Passion. His Fear is in some sort voluntary, as being pro∣duced by his Hatred; and therefore he loves to feel its Commotions, because we love to be agi∣tated even with the Passions that have Evil for their Object, when the Evil is only imaginary, or rather when we know, as in Tragedies, that the Evil cannot hurt us.

The Phantasms which those that walk in the Dark frame in their Imaginations, vanish at the Approach of Light; but the idle Dreams of this sort of Men will not disappear at the Light of Truth, which instead of dissipating the Darkness of their Mind, incenses their Imagination; so that the frustrated Light recoils, because they are wholly taken up with the Objects of their Pas∣sion; and it seems those Apparitions have a real Body, since they reflect some weak Rays of the Light that falls upon them.

But though we should suppose in those Men a sufficient Teachableness and Attention, to listen to, and comprehend the Reasons that may dissipate their Errours; yet their Imagination being dis∣order'd by Fear, and their Heart corrupted by Hatred and false Zeal, those Reasons, how solid so∣ever they might be, could not long stop the impetuous Stream of those violent Passions, nor hin∣der them from speedily justifying themselves by sensible and convincing Proofs.

For we ought to observe, that there are transitory Passions, which never return; whereas there are others that are constant and permanent. Those that are not kept up by the sight of the Mind, but are only produced and fortified by the sensible View of an Object, and the Fermentation of the Blood, are not lasting, but commonly die soon after their Birth; whereas those that are associated with the Contemplation of the Mind, are steady, because the Principle that produces them is not subject to change, as Blood and Humours are. So that Hatred, Fear, and all other Passions that are excited or preserved by the Knowledge of the Mind, and not raised by the sensible View of Evil, must needs be durable, and withal very violent and unjust. However, those Passions are not the most lively and sensible, as we shall now shew.

The Perception of Good and Evil, which raises the Passions, is produced Three ways; by the Senses, by the Imagination, and by the Mind. By way of the Senses it produces very quick and sensible Passions; by way of the Imagination, much weaker; but those which proceed from the Perception of Good and Evil by the Mind alone, are true Passions, on no other account than as that View of Good and Evil is always attended by some Motion of the Animal Spirits.

Passions are only given us for the good of the Body, and for uniting us by it to sensible Things: For though sensible Things are neither good nor bad, in reference to the Mind; yet they are so in relation to the Body, to which the Mind is united: So that the Senses and Imagination, disco∣vering much better than the Mind the Relation of sensible Objects to our Body, must needs raise Passions far livelier than a clear and evident Knowledge: But because our Knowledge is always attended with some Commotion of the Spirits, a clear and evident Knowledge of a great Good, or a great Evil, not to be discover'd by the Senses, always raises some secret Passion.

However, all clear and evident Knowledge of any Good or Evil, is not always followed with a sensible and perceptible Passion; as all our Passions are not accompanied with an intellectual Knowledge. For, as we sometimes think upon Good or Evil, without being conscious of any Commotion; so we often feel our selves agitated with Passion, without knowing or sometimes without being sensible of the Cause. A Man that sucks in a good Air is affected with Joy, and knows not why, nor what sort of Good he enjoys that produces it: And if some invisible Cor∣puscle mixes with his Blood, and hinders its Fermentation, he is taken with Sorrow, and may even ascribe the Cause of it to something visible, that offers it self to him in the time of his Passion.

Of all Passions, none are more sensible nor quick, and consequently less mingled with Know∣ledge, than Horrour and Antipathy, Agreeableness and Sympathy. A Man sleeping under the Sha∣dow of a Tree, often starts up, when a Fly stings him, or a Leaf tickles him, as though a Ser∣pent had bitten him: The confused Sense of a Thing as terrible as Death it self, frightens him, and he finds himself surpriz'd with a very strong and violent Passion, which is an Aversion of Desire, before he bethinks himself. On the contrary, a Man in want discovers by chance some small Good, the Sweetness of which surprizes him; and he is inconsiderately taken up with that Trifle, as though it were the greatest Good in the World, without making any Reflection on it. The same happens in the Motions of Sympathy and Antipathy. We see in a Company a Person whose Deportment and Manners have some secret Agreeableness to the present Disposition of our Body; so his Sight pierces and strikes us, and we are inclined, without Reflection, to love and wish him well. Thus we are agitated by I don't know what, since Reason has no Share in it. The contrary befals those whose Aspect and Looks shed, as it were, Disgust and Aversion: They have I know not what, that offends and puts us back: for the Mind understands nothing in it; the Senses only are competent Judges of sensible Beauty and Ugliness, which are the Objects of those kinds of Passions.

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

CHAP. I.

The Design of this Book. Two general Ways for the Preserving Evidence in the Search of Truth, which shall be the Subject of this Tract.

WE have seen in the foregoing Books, that the Mind of Man is very obnoxious to Errour; that the Deceptions of his Senses * 1.38, the Visions of his Imagination † 1.39, and the Abstractions of his Mind ‖ 1.40, lead him into frequent Mistakes; that the Inclinations of his Will ∵ 1.41, and the Passions of his Heart * 1.42, almost ever conceal the Truth from him, and never suffer it to appear without being tinged with those false Colours that flatter Concupiscency. In short, we have partly discover'd the Errours of the Mind, with their Causes: Now 'tis time we should shew the Way that leads to the Knowledge of Truth, and give the Mind all the possible Skill and Strength to walk therein, without straying or wearying it self in vain.

But, to spare the Readers an unprofitable Labour, we think fit to advise them, this Last Book is only made for such as earnestly desire to seek the Truth by themselves, and to make use of the Force of their own Mind for that purpose. I require them to despise for a while all probable Opinions, to wave the strongest Conjectures, to neglect the Authority of all the Philosophers, to free themselves, as far as possible, from all Prejudice, Interest, and Passion; to enter into an ex∣treme Mistrust of their Senses and Imagination: In a word, well to remember the greatest part of the Things that have been said in the former Books.

I attempt, in this last Book, to give the Mind all the Perfection it can naturally attain to, by supplying it with the necessary Helps to become more attentive and enlarg'd, and prescribing it those Rules that must be observed in the Inquiry after Truth, that it may never mistake, but learn in time whatever can be known.

Could I carry this Design to its utmost Perfection, which I pretend not, this being but an Essay towards it, I might boast to have found out an Universal Science, which would make those truly learned that knew how to make use of it; since they would have the Foundation of all the par∣ticular Sciences, which they would acquire proportionably as they should make use of that Uni∣versal Science: For, by this Treatise we endeavour to render the Mind capable of passing a true and certain Judgment upon all the Questions that are not beyond its reach.

As, to be a good Mathematician, 'tis not sufficient to learn by Heart all the Demonstrations of Euclid, Pappus, Archimedes, Apollonius, and others that have written of Geometry; so, to be a Learned Philosopher, 'tis not enough to have read Plato, Aristotle, Des Cartes, and perfectly to know their Sentiments upon Philosophical Questions. For the Knowledge of all the Opinions and Judgments of other Men, either Philosophers or Geometricians, is rather a History, than a Science; the true Science that perfects, as far as possible, the Mind, consisting in a certain Ability of solidly judging of all things proportion'd to its Reach. But, not to lose time, nor prepossess the Reader with precipitate Judgments, let us begin to treat of such an important Matter.

First of all, we ought to remember the Rule that has been established, and proved at the begin∣ning of the First Book, because 'tis the Foundation and Principle of whatever we shall say hereafter.

And therefore I repeat it; We must never give a full Consent, but to those Propositions that ap∣pear so evidently true, that they cannot be denied it, without feeling an inward Pain, and the se∣cret Reproaches of our Reason; that is to say, without clearly knowing we should make a wrong Use of our Liberty by with-holding our Consent. For, as many times as we yield to Probabilities, we certainly venture to be mistaken; and 'tis but by good Chance, or a lucky Hit, if we be not really deceived. So that the confused Sight of a great number of Probabilities, upon different Subjects, makes not our Reason more perfect; nothing but the clear View of the Truth being able to afford it any real Perfection and Satisfaction.

Thence 'tis easie to conclude, That since, according to our first Rule, nothing but Evidence can assure us that we are not deceived, we ought to take a special care to preserve that Evidence in all our Perceptions; that we may pass a sound Judgment upon all the Things to which our Reason can attain, and discover as many Truths as we are capable of.

The Things that can produce and preserve that Evidence, are of two sorts; some are within us, and in some manner depending on us; others are out of our Jurisdiction. For, as to see di∣stinctly visible Objects, 'tis required to have a good Sight, and to fix it steadfastly upon them; which two Things are in us, or in some manner depending on us: So 'tis requisite to have a sound Understanding, and a strong Application, in order to pierce into the bottom of intelligible Truths; which two Things are in us, or in some sort in our power.

But as the Eyes stand in need of Light to see, which Light depends upon foreign Causes; so the Mind needs Ideas to conceive, which, as it has been proved elsewhere, have no Dependency upon us, but are furnished to us by a foreign Cause. So that should the Ideas of Things super∣sede being present to our Minds, as often as we desire to see them; should he that enlightens the World conceal them from us; it would not be more possible for us to redress it, or to know any thing, than it is to see visible Objects when the Light is gone. But we have no reason to fear it: For the Presence of Ideas being natural to our Minds, and depending on the general Will of God, which is constant and immutable, they can never disappear, nor fail us in the Discovery of such Things as are attainable by Natural Reason. For, the Sun that enlightens the Minds, is not like that which illuminates Bodies; it is never eclipsed, nor goes ever down, but penetrates every thing without dividing its Light.

The Ideas of all Things being then continually present to us, even when we do not atten∣tively consider them; all that we need doe to make all our Perceptions evident, is only to look for such Means as can increase the Attention and Extent of the Mind; as nothing else is requi∣red on our side, to distinguish visible and present Objects, but to have good Eyes, and to fix them thereupon.

However, because the Objects we consider have more Relations than we can discover at once, by a simple Essay of Thought; we still need some Rules, skilfully to unfold the Difficulties; by which Succours, the Mind, being grown more attentive and extended, may with a full Evidence discover all the Relations of the Thing examined.

We shall divide this Sixth Book into Two Parts. We shall treat in the First, of those Supplies that may afford the Mind more Attention and Extent; and in the Second we shall pre∣scribe those Rules that it must follow in the Inquiry after Truth, to pass sound and undecei∣vable Judgments.

CHAP. II.

That Attention is necessary to preserve Evidence in our Knowledge: That the Modifications of the Soul make her attentive, but share and take up too much her Capacity of Perceiving.

WE have shewn at the Beginning of this Work, that the Understanding does nothing but perceive; and that, as to its Concern, there is no difference betwixt bare Perceptions, Judgments, and Reasonings, unless it be, that the second and third are Perceptions more com∣posed than the first; because they not only represent many Things, but also the Relations they have together. For naked Perceptions represent only Things to the Mind; whereas Judgments represent the Relations that are betwixt Things and Reasonings, the Relations that are betwixt the Relations of Things, provided they be simple Reasonings; for if they were Complex, they would represent Relations of Relations, or compound Relations, which are between the Rela∣tion of Things, and so ad infinitum. For, proportionably as Relations multiply, so the Reason∣ings, that represent them to the Mind, become more composed: However, Judgments and sim∣ple Reasonings, as well as those that are composed, are but, as to the Understanding, bare Per∣ceptions, since it does no more than simply perceive, as has been already observed.

Whence it appears, that the Understanding never falls into Errour, since there is none in Per∣ceptions; and, that Errour it self is not of an intelligible nature: For, as we have already said many times, it consists in a too hasty Consent of the Will, which suffers it self to be dazzled by some false Glimpse, and, instead of keeping its Liberty as long as possible, negligently relies upon the Appearance of Truth.

Notwithstanding, as it commonly happens that the Understanding has but confused and imper∣fect Perceptions of Things; so 'tis really a Cause of our Errours, though only occasional. For, as the Corporeal Sight leads us into Mistake, when it represents outward Objects confusedly and imperfectly; confusedly, when they are at too great a distance, or for want of Light; and im∣perfectly, when it only shews such Faces of them as look towards us: So the Understanding of∣ten having but a confused and imperfect Conception of Things, because they are not sufficiently present to it, and that it discovers not all their Parts, causes the Will, that too easily yields to those obscure and imperfect Conceptions, to fall into many Errours.

We must then look out for Means that may hinder our Perceptions from being confused and imperfect. And because, as every one knows, nothing can make them more clear and distinct, than Attention; we must find out Means to become more and more attentive. Thus we may hope to keep to Evidence in our Reasonings, and even to survey all at once the necessary Connexion be∣twixt all the Parts of our longest Inferences.

To find out those Means, 'tis necessary to persuade our selves of what has been said elsewhere, That the Mind gives not an equal Attention to all the Things it perceives: For it applies it self infinitely more to such as affect, modifie, and penetrate it, than to those which, though they be present, yet do not concern or belong to it: In short, 'tis more taken up with its own Modifica∣tions, than with the bare Ideas of Objects, which Ideas are Things different from it self.

Thence it comes, that we consider but with tediousness, dislike, and remissness, the abstracted Ideas of the pure Understanding; that we apply our selves much more to Things that we ima∣gine, especially when our Imagination is strong, and the Tracks of our Brain very deep: And lastly, that we are wholly taken up with sensible Qualities, and even so, that we can afford no Attention to the pure Ideas of the Mind, when we feel something very pleasant or painful. For Pain, Pleasure, and other Sensations, being Modes of the Souls Existence, 'tis impossible we should exist without perceiving them, and having the Capacity of the Mind taken up, since our Sensations are nothing but Perceptions.

But 'tis not so with the pure Ideas of the Mind, since they may be intimately united to it, without its taking the least notice of them. For, though God is most intimately united with us, and comprehends the Ideas of whatever we see; yet those Ideas, though never so present, and, as I may say, in the middle of our selves, are concealed from us, when the Motions of the Spirits do not raise their Traces, or when our Will applies not the Mind to consider them; that is to say, when it performs not those Acts to which the Author of Nature has joined the Represen∣tation of those Ideas. This is the Foundation of whatever we shall say concerning the Means that can improve our Attention, which Means will be drawn from the very Nature of the Mind; so that 'tis to be hoped, that they will not prove fruitless and chimerical, as many others, that are more puzling than serviceable. And though they should not be as useful as we could wish, yet the Time that shall be bestowed upon their Reading will not be entirely lost, since this will afford us a fuller Knowledge of the Nature of the Mind.

The Modifications of the Soul have Three Causes, the Senses, the Imaginations, and the Passi∣ons: For every one experimentally knows, that Pain and Pleasure, and all other strong Sensati∣ons, lively Imaginations, and vehement Passions, take up the Mind so much as to make it inca∣pable of Attention, at the time they too vigorously affect it; because they fill, as I may say, its whole Capacity, or Faculty of Perceiving. And even when those Modifications are moderate, they still divide its Capacity in some sort; so that it cannot give up it self wholly to the Con∣sideration of abstracted Truths.

Thence we must draw this important Conclusion, That those that will earnestly apply them∣selves to search after Truth, must carefully, and as far as possible, avoid all the Sensations that are too lively, as a great Noise, a bright Light, Pleasure, Pain, &c. That they must incessantly watch over the Purity of their Imagination, lest deep Traces should be imprinted on their Brain, which would continually disturb, and, as it were, dissolve the Mind; and that they must above all stop the Motions of the Passions, which make so powerful an Impression on the Body and Soul, that it is for the most part impossible the Mind should think upon any thing else. For though the pure Ideas of Truth are always present, yet they cannot be attended to, while the whole Reach and Compass of our Thoughts are charg'd with these penetrating Modifications.

However, as it is not possible that the Soul should be free of Passion, Sensation, or any other particular Modification, we must make a Vertue of Necessity, and endeavour to draw, from those very Modifications, such Succours as can make us more attentive: But the Use of them requires great Skill and Circumspection, if we desire to make an Advantage of them; and we must care∣fully examine how far we have occasion for them, that we may use them only when the neces∣sity of being attentive compels us to it.

CHAP. III.

Of the Vse that can be made of the Passions and Senses, to preserve the At∣tention of the Mind.

THE Passions that may successfully incite us to the Enquiry after Truth, are those that afford Strength and Courage to overcome the trouble of rendring our selves attentive: There are some good, and others bad; the Good are such as the Desire of finding out the Truth, of getting so much Light as to conduct our selves, and be useful to our Neighbours, and the like; the Bad, or Dangerous are, the Desire of getting Fame, of making Establishments, of rising above our Fel∣lows, and others yet more corrupted, of which we need not speak.

In our present unhappy State, it often happens, that the least rational Passions are the most inci∣ting to the Enquiry after Truth, and are more pleasant Consolations in all the Troubles we are at to discover it, than such as are juster, and more reasonable: For Instance, Vanity moves us much more than the Love of Truth; and we see every day such Persons as are extraordinarily given to study, as long as they find Men before whom they can boast of their Learning; whereas they en∣tirely forsake it, when they meet with no body more to listen to them. The confused Prospect of the Glory that surrounds them when they vend their Opinions, bears up their Courage in the most fruitless and tedious Studies: But if either by Chance, or the Necessity of their Affairs, they come to be taken off from that little Flock of Applauders, their Heat presently cools, the most solid Stu∣dies are no longer alluring; Distaste, Tediousness and Moro••eness overtake them, and make them forsake all. Vanity did triumph over their natural Laziness, but now Laziness triumphs over the Love of Truth; for Vanity may sometimes resist Laziness, but Laziness commonly proves too strong and powerful for the Love of Truth.

However, as the Passion for Glory may be referr'd to a good End, as, to the Glory of God, the publick Use, the Preservation of our good Name; some Persons may perhaps be allow'd, in some cer••ain Cases, to make use of that Passion, as a powerful Help to make the Mind more attentive. But Care must be taken to use it only when the reasonable Passions, whereof mention has been made, are not sufficient, and that our Duty engages us to apply our selves to Subjects that are very disgust∣ing; First, because that Passion is very dangerous to the Conscience; Secondly, because it insensibly draws us into ill Studies, that have more Lustre than Use or Truth in them; and Lastly, because it is very difficult to moderate it, and that we often become its Fool and Property; and instead of enlightning the Mind, we only strengthen the Concupiscence of Pride, which both corrupts our Moral Powers, and darkens our Understanding with an undissolvable Obscurity.

For it must be consider'd how That Passion insensibly increases, settles and fortifies it self in the Heart of Man; and when it is too violent, instead of helping the Mind in the Search of Truth, it strangely blinds it, and even persuades it that Things are just as it desires they should be.

Sure it is, there would not be so many false Inventions, nor imaginary Discoveries, were not Men's Heads giddy'd by the ardent Desire of appearing Inventors. For the firm and obstinate Persuasion wherein several Persons have been to have found, for Instance, the Perpetual Motion, the Quadrature of the Circle, the Duplication of the Cube by ordinary Geometry, in all likelihood proceeded from an extraordinary Desire of seeming to have perform'd what others have vainly at∣tempted.

And therefore 'tis fitter to excite in us such Passions as are so much more useful to our searching out of Truth, as they are more strong, and wherein the Excess is not to be fear'd: Such are the Desires of making a good Use of our Mind; of freeing our selves from Prejudices and Errours; of getting a sufficient Light to behave our selves in our Condition; and such others as neither engage us into fruitless Studies, nor carry us on to rash and inconsiderate Judgments.

When we have begun to taste the pleasure of making use of our Mind, to be sensible of the Pro∣fit that arises from it, have freed our selves of violent Passions, and have disrelish'd sensible Plea∣sures, which always prove the Masters of, or rather the Tyrants over Reason, in those that indis∣creetly give up themselves to them; we need not other Passions, but such as we have spoken of, to become attentive upon the Subjects on which we desire to meditate.

But most Men are not in that Condition; they have neither Taste, nor Understanding, nor Cu∣riosity for any thing but what affects the Senses; their Imagination is corrupted by an almost infi∣nite Number of deep Traces, which raise none but false Ideas; and as they depend upon all the Objects that resort to the Senses and Imagination, so they always judge by the Impression they re∣ceive from them; that is, with reference to themselves. Pride, Debauchery, the various Engage∣ments, the restless Desires of Advancement, which are so common amongst the Men of the World, darken the Sight of Truth, and stifle in them the Sense of Piety; because they separate them from God, who alone is able to enlighten, as he alone is able to govern us. For we cannot increase our Union with sensible Things, without diminishing that which we have with intellectual Truth, since we cannot be at the same time strictly united with Things so different and opposite.

Those whose Imagination is pure and chaste, that is, whose Brain is not fill'd up with deep Traces, that fasten them to visible Things, may easily unite themselves to God, listen attentively to the Truth that speaks to them, and even forbear the Use of the most just and rational Passions.

But as to those that live amongst the Great, who depend upon too many things, and whose Ima∣gination is soil'd by the false and obscure Ideas of sensible Objects, they cannot apply themselves to the Truth, unless they be born up by some Passion, strong enough to countervail the Weight of the Body, that carries them down; and to imprint Traces on their Brain, that may make a Revulsion upon the Animal Spirits. However, as every Passion can only by it self perplex our Ideas, they ought to use that Help but so far as Necessity requires; and all Men ought to study themselves, that they may proportionate their Passions to their Weakness.

It is no hard matter to find a Method of raising in us such Passions as we desire, since the Knowledge we have given in the foregoing Books of the Union betwixt Soul and Body has suf∣ficiently open'd the way to it: In a word, no more is requir'd, than to think attentively upon those Objects, that by the Institution of Nature are able to raise the Passions. Thus we may al∣most at any time excite in our Hearts whatever Passion we have occasion for; but because we can easier excite them at any time than suppress them, or remedy the Disorders they cause in the Ima∣gination, we must be very sober and cautious in employing them.

Above all, we must take care not to judge of Things by Passion, but only by the clear Sight of the Truth, which is almost impossible when the Passions are somewhat lively; they ought only to raise our Attention, but they never fail of stirring up their proper Ideas, and violently driving the Will to judge of Things by those Ideas that affect it, rather than by the pure and abstracted Ideas of Truth, that make no Impression upon it: So that we often make Judgments which last no lon∣ger than the Passion, because they are not produced by the clear Sight of the immutable Truth, but by the Circulation of the Blood.

True it is that Men are wonderfully obstinate in some Errours, which they maintain as long as they live; but then those Errours have other Causes than the Passions, or at least depend on such as are permanent and lasting, proceeding from the Constitution of the Body, from Interest, or from some other durable Cause. For Instance; Interest being a Motive of a continual standing, produ∣ces a Passion that never dies; and the Judgments that arise from it are very long liv'd. But all the other Sentiments of Men, which depend upon particular Passions, are as inconstant as the Fermen∣tation of their Humours: They say one while this, another while that; and yet what they say is commonly conformable to what they think: And as they run from one counterfeit Good to another, by the Motion of their Passion, and are disgusted at it when that Motion ceases; so they run from one false System into another, and ardently assert a false Opinion, when Passion makes it probable; which, the Passion ebbing, they afterwards forsake. By their Passions they taste of every Good, without finding any really so; and by the same Passions see all Truths, without discovering any thing absolutely true; though in the time of their Passion, what they taste seems to them the So∣vereign God, and what they see an undeniable Truth.

The Senses are the second Spring, whence we can draw Succours to make the Mind attentive. Sensations are the very Modifications of the Soul, and differ from the pure Ideas of the Mind; the former raising a much stronger Attention than the latter. So that 'tis plain, that to supply the want of Application to insensible Truths, it may be fit to express them in a sensible and moving manner.

'Tis for that Reason, that Geometricians express by sensible Lines, the Proportions that are be∣twixt several Magnitudes; for by drawing Lines upon Paper, they draw, as I may say, answerable Ideas upon their Mind, and make them more familiar by Seeing them at the same time that they Conceive them. Thus several very difficult Things may be taught to Children, though they be not susceptible of abstracted Truths, by reason of the Nicety of the Fibres of their Brain: Their Eyes see nothing but Colours, Pictures, Images; but their Mind considers the Ideas that answer those sensible Objects.

But we must take a special Care not to over-shadow the Objects which we will consider or repre∣sent to others, with so much Sensibility, that the Mind should be more taken up with it, than with the Truth it self, which is a most considerable and common Fault; for we meet every day with Men that apply themselves only to what moves the Senses, and express themselves in such a sen∣sible manner, that Truth is as stifled under a vain and pompous Apparel of their false Eloquence; so that their Hearers, being more affected with the Measure of their Periods, and the Motions of their Figures, than by the Reasons they alledge, give way to be persuaded, without so much as knowing what causes their Persuasion, or what they are persuaded of.

And therefore we must so carefully moderate the Sensibility of our Expressions, as only just to make the Mind attentive. There is nothing more beautiful than Truth; neither can we pretend to make it handsomer, by daubing it with sensible Colours, that have no Solidity in them, and are pleasing but a short time. We might perhaps make it more fine and delicate, but should enerve and emasculate it: So that we ought not to set it off with so much Lustre and Brightness, that the Mind be more taken up with the Ornaments, than with the Body it self; this being to deal with it as some Persons do with themselves, when loaded with such abundance of Gold and pre∣cious Stones, they appear the least considerable part of the whole which they make up with their Clothes. We must dress the Truth as are those Magistrates of Venice, who are oblig'd to wear a plain Gown and a Cap, to distinguish them from the Commonalty; that Men may look on their Faces with Reverence and Attention, without admiring their Apparel. Lastly, We must take care not to surcharge it with too great a Retinue of delightful Things, that dissipate the Mind, and ob∣struct its View, lest we should give to any thing else the Honours due to it: As it often happens to Princes, who cannot be distinguish'd amongst the great Number of their Courtiers and Atten∣dants, who assume to themselves that Air of Greatness, and Majestical Countenance, which only becomes the Sovereigns themselves.

But to give a more considerable Instance, I say, that Truth must be proposed to others, as it manifests it self. The Sight of Men, since the Fall of their Fore-fathers, is too weak to look on Truth it self, and therefore Sovereign Truth has made it self sensible by coming invested with our Humanity, that it might attract our Thoughts, enlighten our Mind, and appear lovely to our Eyes. So we may, according to that Pattern, adorn with something sensible the Truths we endeavour to understand our selves, and to teach others, that we may fix the Mind upon them, which loves what is sensible, and is not easily delighted by Things that flatter not the Senses. The Eternal Wisdom has made it self sensible, but not glittering and pompous; becoming sensible, not to fasten us to what is sensible, but to raise us to what is intellectual, and to condemn and sacrifice Sensibility in his own Person. So we must make use, in the Knowledge of Truth, of something sensible, but not too splendid; that cannot indear too much the sensible Object, but only keep open the Eye of our Mind in the Contemplation of mere intellectual Truths: Such Sensibility should be employ'd, as we may dissipate, annihilate, and willingly sacrifice upon the Sight of the Truth, to which it has conducted us. The Eternal Wisdom has offer'd it self to us from without, in a sensible man∣ner, not to keep us abroad, but that we may retire within our selves, and that the Inner Man might intellectually consider it: So we must, in our Search of Truth, make use of something sen∣sible, which may not keep us abroad gazing on its Lustre, but make us enter into our selves, and strengthen our Attention and Union to the Eternal Truth, which only is able to rule the Mind, and enlighten it upon any Subject whatsoever.

CHAP. IV.

Of the Vse of Imagination to make the Mind attentive, and especially of the Vsefulness of Geometry.

WE had need be very circumspect and cautious in the Choice and Use of those Helps that we may draw from our Senses and Passions, to become attentive to the Truth; because our Sen∣ses and Passions too vividly affect us, and so much fill up the Capacity of the Mind, that it often sees nothing but its own Sensations, when it proposes to discover Things in their own Nature. But as to those Succours which our Imagination may afford us, they make the Mind attentive, without fruitlesly dividing its Capacity, and wonderfully help us to a clear and distinct Perception of Ob∣jects; so that they are for the most part very useful, as will be made plain by some Instances.

We know that a Body is moved by two or several different Causes, towards two or several dif∣ferent Places, whereunto it is equally or unequally driven by these Forces; that the Force of the Motion perpetually increases or decreases, according to some known Proportion. We are asked what way that Body goes, in what place it shall be at such or such a Moment, with what degree of Celerity it shall be endued when 'tis come to such a place; and other like Questions.

1. From the point A, whence we suppose that it be∣gins

[illustration]

to move, draw the indefinite Lines AB, AC, that make the Angle BAC, if they cut each other; for AB and AC are direct, and cut not each other when the Motions they express are directly opposite. Thus we distinctly represent to the Imagination, or, if you please, to the Senses, the way that Body should take when it is only moved by one of these Forces, either towards B, or C.

2. But if the Force that moves it towards B be equal to that which moves it towards C, then divide the Lines AB and AC into the parts 1, 2, 3, 4. I, II, III, IV, equally distant from A: If the Force that moves it to∣wards B be double of that which moves it towards C, take in the Line AB Parts that are double of those that you cut in AC: If that Force be subduple, take them subduple; if it be thrice greater or lesser, cut them like∣wise thrice greater or lesser; and so proportionably. The Divisions of those Lines will represent to the Ima∣gination the different Degrees of those moving Forces, and withal, the Space that they shall cause the Body to run over.

3. Draw through those Divisions Parallels upon AB and AC, to have the Lines 1X, 2X, 3X, &c. equal to AI, AII, AIII, &c. and IX, IIX, IIIX, equal to A1, A2, A3, &c. that represent the Spaces through which those Forces carry that Body. Through the In∣tersections of those Parallels draw the Line AXYE, that represent to the Imagination, first, the true Greatness of the composed Motion of that Body which is supposed

[illustration]

to be driven at the same time towards B and C, by two different Forces, according to some certain Proportion: Secondly, The Way that it is to pass through: And, lastly, All the Places in which it must be in a determinate Time. So that this Line serves not only to bear up the Sight of the Mind in the In∣quiry after all the Truths that are discoverable in the Question proposed; but also represents the Solution of it in a sensible and convincing manner.

First, That Line AXYE expresses the true De∣grees of the compound Motion: For we sensibly perceive, that if each of the Forces which produce it can promote the Body a Foot in a Minute, its composed Motion will be of two Foot in a Minute, if both moving Forces do perfectly agree; since in that Case it is enough to add AB to AC. But if those Forces are not altogether equal, the composed Motion AE will be greater than one of the Com∣poundings, AB or AC, by the Line YE: Where∣as if those Motions be opposite in any thing, the composed will be lesser than either of the com∣pounding, by the Line YE; and if they be entirely opposite, it will come to nothing.

Secondly, The Line AXYE represents to the Imagination the Way which that Body shall go: For we sensibly perceive in what Proportion it shall advance more to one than to the other side. We likewise perceive, that all the compound Motions are direct, when each of the compounding is always the same, though they be unequal betwixt themselves; or when the Compoundings are always equal betwixt themselves, though they be not constantly the same. Lastly, It plainly appears, that the Lines described by those Motions are crooked, when the Compounding are both unequal to each other, and not always the same.

Thirdly, Last of all, That Line represents to the Imagination all the Places in which that Body, driven by two different Forces towards two different Places, shall be found; so that we can pre∣cisely mark the Point in which that Body shall be in any Instant whatsoever. For instance, If you desire to know in what Place that Body shall be at the beginning of the fourth Minute, divide the Lines AB, or AC, in such Parts as express the Space through which those known Forces might each of them carry that Body within a Minute; take three of those Parts in either of these Lines, then draw through the beginning of the fourth 3X parallel to AB, or IIIX pa∣rallel to AC; for 'tis evident that the Point X, which either of those Parallels determine in the Line AXYE, designs the Place in which that Body shall be at the beginning of the fourth Mi∣nute of its Motion. Thus that Method of examining Questions, not only keeps up the View of

[illustration]

the Mind, but also affords the Solution of them, and withal a sufficient Light to discover unknown Things by a few that are known.

For Instance: After what has been said, it is e∣nough only to know, that a Body that was in A at such a time, is in E at such another; and that the different Forces that drive it, describe Lines that make such an Angle as BAC, to discover the Line of its composed Motion, and the different Degrees of Celerity of the simple Motions; provided we know that those Motions are equal or uniform to each other. For when we have two Points of a Right Line, we have it entire, and we can compare the Right Line AE, or the composed Motion that is known, with the Lines AB, and AC, that is, with the simple Motions that are unknown.

Now let us afresh suppose a Stone driven from A to B, by an uniform Motion, but descending towards E with an unequal, like to that which ponderous Bodies are thought generally to tend to the Centre of the Earth, according to the common Opinion; that is to say, let the Spaces which it passes over be amongst themselves as the Squares of the Times in which it passes them over; the Line which it shall describe will be a Parabola, and the Point in which the Stone shall be at every Moment of its Motion, may be determined with the utmost Nicety and Ex∣actness.

For, if at the first Moment that Body falls Two Foot from A towards C, in the second Six, in the

third Ten, in the fourth Fourteen, and that it be driven by an uniform Motion from A towards B, which is Sixteen Foot in length; 'tis evident, that the Line which that Body describes is a Para∣bola, whose Parameter is Eight Foot long; because the Square of the Lines that are applied the Diameter, which Lines mark the Times, and the regular Motion of A towards B, is equal to the Rectangle of the Parameter, through the Lines that mark the unequal and accelerated Motions; so that the Squares of the applied Lines, or the Squares of the Times, will be amongst them∣selves, as the Parts of the Diameter contained betwixt the Pole and the applied Lines.

16 : 64 : : 2 : 8 64 : 144 : : 8 : 18, &c.

The bare looking on the sixth Figure is sufficient to persuade us of all this; for the Semicircles shew that A2 is to A4, that is, to the applied Line 2X, its equal, as 2X is to A8: That A18 is to A12, that is, to the applied Line 18X, as 18X is to A8, &c. And therefore, that the Rectangles A2 by A8, and A18 by A8, are equal to the Squares of 2X and 18X, &c. and con∣sequently those Squares have the same Proportion to each other, as those Rectangles.

The Parallels upon AB and AC, which cut each other at the Points XXX, do also sensibly shew the Way of that Body, and the Places in which it must be at such a time. Lastly, They represent to the Eyes the true Degrees of the composed Motion, and of its Acceleration, in any determinate Time.

Let's suppose again a Body moving from A towards B and C, but unequally on both sides. If that Inequality be always and every where alike, or if it either encreases or diminishes in the same proportion, the Line which it shall describe will be a Right.

And though there should be an Inequality, either in the Augmentation or Diminution of the simple Motions, whatever that Inequality be, it will not be hard to find the Line that represents to the Imagination the Motion composed of the simple Motions, if you express those Motions by Lines, and draw to these Lines Parallels cutting each other: For, the Line that shall pass through all the Intersections of those Parallels, will represent the Motion composed of those Motions that are unequal, and unequally increased or diminished.

For example, If we suppose that a Body is moved by two equal or unequal Forces, whatever they be; that one of those Motions still encreases, or diminishes, in any given Geometrical, or Arithmetical Proportion; and that the other Motion encreases or diminishes in some other Arith∣metical, or Geometrical Progression; to find out the Points through which the Line must pass that represents to the Eyes and Imagination the Motions composed of those Motions, draw, as has been said, the two Lines AB and AC, that

[illustration]

express the simple Motions, and divide those Lines as those several Motions are supposed to accelerate, at the Points 1, 2, 3, 4, 5: If the Motion represented by the Line AC encreases or diminishes in such an Arithmetical Progression as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And if the Motion represented by the Line AB increases in this double Progres∣sion, 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, or diminishes in the subdu∣ple Progression, 4, 2, 1, ½, ¼, ⅛, divide it at the Points 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, or 4, 2, 1, ½, ••/4, ⅛; lastly, draw through those Divisions Parallels to AB and AC, and the Line AE, that passes through all the Points of the Intersection of those Parallels, will be the Line representing the composed Motion, and the Way through which the Body moves.

If we desire exactly to know how long a Body has been in coming to such a Point, from its set∣ting out; the Parallels drawn from the Point upon AB, or AC, will shew it; for the Divisions of AB, and AC, mark the Time. And likewise, if we desire to know the Place to which a Body shall arrive within some certain Time, the Parallels drawn from the Divisions of the Lines AB and AC, that represent the Time, will, by their Intersection, shew us the Point we seek for. As to its Distance from the Term whence it has begun to move, it will always be easie to know it, by drawing a Line from that Point towards A; for the Length of that Line will be known, by comparing it either to AB or AC, which are known. But as to the Length of the Way through which that Body has run, in advancing to this Point, it will still be hard to disco∣ver it; because AE, the Line of its Motion, being crooked, cannot be compared with either of those Right Lines.

If you would determine the infinite Points through which that Body must pass, that is, nicely describe, and by a continual Motion, the Line AE, you had need make a Pair of Compasses that should move according to all the Conditions express'd in the Suppositions that have been mentioned; which would be very difficult to invent, and impossible to perform, and almost un∣profitable, to discover the Relations of Things betwixt themselves; since commonly we need not all the Points of which a Line is composed, but only some, to help the Imagining Faculty, when it considers those Motions.

Those Instances are sufficient to shew, that we may by Lines express and represent to the Ima∣gination most of our Ideas; and that Geometry, which teaches to compare those Lines, and thereby know their several Relations, is of a greater use and extent than is commonly supposed. For, Astronomy, Musick, Mechanicks, and generally all the Sciences, whose Objects are susceptible of more or less, and may be consider'd under the Notion of extended, that is to say, all accurate

Sciences, may be referr'd to Geometry; because all Speculative Truths, consisting in the Relations of things, or in Relations betwixt their Relations, they may all be referr'd to Lines; Geometrical Consequences may be drawn from them; and when those Consequences are made sensible by Lines, 'tis almost impossible to mistake. Thus may Sciences be carried very far with great easiness.

For Instance, The Reason why we distinctly know, and precisely mark an Octave, a Fifth, a Fourth in Musick, is that the Sounds are expressed by Strings exactly divided; and that we know that the String which sounds an Octave is in double proportion with that from whence the Octave rises; that a Fifth is with it in a Sesquialter Proportion, or as 3 to 2, and so of the rest. For the Ear alone cannot judge of Sounds, with so much nicety and accuracy as a Science requires. The most skilful Practitioners, the most delicate and nicest Ears are not sensible enough to ob∣serve the difference betwixt certain Sounds, and judging of things by the Sensation they have of them, fasly imagine that there's none at all. Some cannot distinguish betwixt an Octave and 3 thirds, others fancy that the Major Tone differs not from the Minor; so that the Comma, which is their Difference, is insensible to them, and much more the Schisma, which is but the half of the Comma.

And therefore, 'tis Reason alone that manifestly shews us, that the space of the String which makes the Difference betwixt certain Sounds, being divisible into several parts, there may still be a great number of different Sounds, very usefull for Musick, which the Ear cannot distinguish. Whence it plainly appears, that without Arithmetick and Geometry, we should have no exact and regular Knowledge of Musick; neither could we succeed in that Science but by Chance and Ima∣gination, and so Musick would cease from being a Science, grounded upon undeniable Demonstra∣tions. In the mean while it must be granted, that the Songs which owe their birth to the strength of Imagination, are, for the most part, finer and more pleasant to the Senses, than those that are composed by Rule.

And likewise in Mechanicks, the Heaviness of a Body, and the Distance of the Centre of Hea∣viness from its Prop, being capable of more of less, both may be figured by Lines: So that Geo∣metry is usefull to discover and demonstrate an infinite number of new Inventions, very convenient to this Life, and pleasing to the Mind, because of their Evidence.

For Instance, If a Weight of six pounds is to be put in aequilibrium with one of three, let that Weight of six pound hang on the Arm of a Balance, at two Foot distance from the Prop: then only knowing this general Principle of all Mechanicks, That Weights to stand in aequilibrium, must be in a reciprocal Proportion with their Distances from the Prop; (that is, That one Weight must be to the other, as the Distance betwixt the last Weight and the Prop is to the Distance of the first Weight from the said Prop;) it will be easie to find out by Geometry, what must be the Di∣stance of a Weight of Three pounds, that all may remain in aequilibrio; if you find by the Twelfth Proposition of the Sixth Book of Euclid, a fourth proportional Line, which here will be of four Foot. So that you may plainly discover all the Truths that depend upon that fundamental Prin∣ciple of Mechanicks, (when once known,) by the use of Geometry; that is, by representing with Lines whatever can be considered in Mechanicks.

Geometrical Lines and Figures are therefore most proper to represent to the Imagination, the Relations betwixt Magnitudes, or betwixt things that differ in degree of more and less, as Spaces, Times, Weights, &c. as well because they are most simple Objects, as that they are imagin'd with great easiness. It may even be said, to the Honour of Geometry, That Lines can represent to the Imagination more things than the Mind can know. Since Lines can express the Relations of incommensurable Magnitudes, that is, such Relations as cannot be known, because there is no common Measure to compare them together. But that Advantage is not very considerable, as to the Search after Truth; because those sensible Representations of incommensurable Magnitudes, discover nothing to the Mind.

Geometry is therefore exceedingly useful, to make the Mind attentive to those things, whose Relations we desire to discover: However it must be granted, that it is sometimes an Occasion of Errour, because the evident and pleasant Demonstrations of that Science, takes us up so much, that we have not a sufficient Regard for the Consideration of Nature. Thence it comes, that the new-invented Engines do not all succeed; that those Musical Composures, in which the Propor∣tions of Consonances are best observed, are not always the most grateful; and that the most ac∣curate Calculations of Astronomy do not always best foretell the Incidence and Duration of E∣clipses. Nature is not abstracted; Levers and Wheels, in Mechanicks, are not Mathematical Lines and Circles: All Men are not pleased with the same Musical Tunes, nor even the same Man at different times; for their Satisfaction proceeds from the Commotions of their Spirits, than which nothing can be more variable. And as to Astronomy, the Course of the Planets is not perfectly regular, whilst floating in the vast Spaces they are irregularly carried by the fluid Matter that sur∣rounds them: So that the Errours of Astronomy, Musick, Mechanicks, and all Sciences in which Geometry is used, are not to be ascribed to that undoubted Science, but to the false Application that is made of it.

For Instance, we suppose that Planets, by their Motion, describe Circles and Ellipses perfectly regular, And though that be not exactly true, yet w•• doe well to suppose it so, that we may draw Inferences from thence, and because it wants but little of being true; but we must still re∣member, that the Principle from which we argue is a Supposition. Likewise in Mechanicks, we suppose Wheels and Levers perfectly hard without gravity and rubbing, and like to Mathemati∣cal Lines and Circles: or rather, we have not a sufficient consideration for the said Gravity and

rubbing, for the Nature of the Matter, and the Relation those things have betwixt them. We mind not that Hardness and Bulk increase Heaviness; Heaviness fretting, whilst fretting diminishes Force, and causes the Engine to break, or wears it out very quickly: So that what often succeeds upon a small portion of Matter, seldom takes effect upon a great Body.

No wonder therefore if we mistake, since we argue from Principles not fully known; nor yet because it rids us not of all Errours, must we imagine Geometry useless. It makes us draw from our Suppositions very true and consequential Inferences; and affords us an evident Knowledge of what we consider, by making us attentive. We can even discover by its means, the Falshood of our Suppositions; for being certain of the Truth of our Reasonings, which however do not agree with Experience, we discover that our Principles are false. But without Geometry and Arithme∣tick we can discover nothing, that is somewhat difficult, in the most accurate Sciences, though we argue from certain and undeniable Principles.

We must then look upon Geometry as a sort of universal Science, which opens and enlarges the Mind, makes it attentive, and affords it so much Skill as to regulate its Imagination, and to draw from it all the possible Succours. For by the assistance of Geometry, the Mind regulates the Mo∣tion of the Imagination, and the Imagination regulated keeps up the View and Application of the Mind.

But that we may learn to make a good use of Geometry, we must observe that all the things that fall under the Imagination, are not as easily imaginable one as the other; since all the Ima∣ges do not equally fill the Capacity of the Mind. 'Tis more difficult to imagine a Solid than a Plain, and this than a simple Line; because the clear perception of a Solid requires a greater thought than that of a Plain, and a Line. Even Lines differ, as to this, amongst themselves; a Parobolick, Elliptick, or some other very composed Line, requires more thinking, that is, takes up the Mind more than the Figure of a Circle, and this than a right Line; because 'tis harder to imagine Lines that are described by very composed Motions, and have several different Relations, than those that are drawn by Motions very simple, and have but a few Relations. For Relations cannot be clear∣ly perceived without the Attention of the Mind to several things, and as their number is greater, so must the thought or the perception be more extended. Hence it happens, that there are Fi∣gures so much composed, that they extend beyond the reach of a distinct Imagination; whereas others may be imagin'd with great facility.

Amongst the three sorts of Right-lined Angles, viz. the acute, the right, and the obtuse, none but the Right raises a very distinct and determinate Idea. For as there are an Infinity of either acute or obtuse Angles, that differ all from one another; so we can imagine nothing nicely nor distinctly, when we imagine an acute or obtuse Angle. But we cannot be mistaken in imagining a right Angle; the Idea of it is so very distinct, and its Image which it raises in the Brain so very nea•• and just.

True it is, that we may determine the general and indefinite Idea of an acute Angle to the par∣ticular Idea of an Angle of 30 degrees, which Idea is as accurate as that of an Angle of 90, that is, or a right Angle; but the Image of it, which we may endeavour to imprint on the Brain, will ne∣ver ••e so very exact, as that of a right Angle; being not used to describe that Image, we cannot draw it but by thinking on a Circle, or on the determinate Portion of a Circle divided into equal Pa••••s. But to imagine a right Angle, we need not think on that division of a Circle; the bare Idea of a Perpendicular is sufficient for the Imagination to draw the Image of that Angle; and we can ••••present Perpendiculars without trouble, being used to see all things standing upright.

Hence it is easie to judge, That to have a simple, distinct, and well-determin'd Object, apt to ••e easily imagin'd, and consequently to make the Mind attentive, and to promote its Evidence in the Truths it is in quest of; we must reduce all the Magnitudes we consider to plain Superficies, termin'd by Lines and right Angles, as are perfect Squares, and other right Angled Figures, or to bare right Lines; for these are the Figures whose nature is the most easily known.

We pretend not however that all the Subjects of our Knowledge and Enquiry, may be repre∣sented by Geometrical Lines and Figures. There are many, which neither can nor ought to be brought under that Rule. For Instance, the Knowledge of a God, Allmighty, All-just, on whom all things depend all manner of ways, who commands his Creatures to obey his Orders, that they may be capable of Happiness; that Knowledge, I say, is the Principle of all Morality, and of an infinite number of certain and undoubted Consequences; yet neither the Principle, nor the Conse∣quences, can be represented by Geometrical Figures. Neither is it possible to figure and represent by Lines many Notions of Natural Philosophy, which yet may evidently discover to us several Truths. However, it may be truly said, that an Infinity of things may be examin'd and learn'd by that Geometrical Method; which is ever advantageously imploy'd, since it accustoms the Mind to Attention, by causing it to make a regular use of its Imagination; and that things which are learn'd that way, are more clearly demonstrated, and easier retain'd than others.

I might have ascribed to the Senses, the Assistances we derive from Geometry, to preserve the Attention of the Mind; but though Lines be something sensible, yet, I thought, Geometry be∣longs rather to the Imagination, than to the Senses. It would be unprofitable to set down my Reasons for it; which could only justifie the order I have observed in this Treatise: and that's a thing not very material to our purpose. I have not yet spoken of Arithmetick and Algebra, because the Cyphers and Letters of the Alphabet, that are used in those Sciences, are not so ser∣viceable to strengthen the Attention of the Mind as to encrea••e its Extent, as we shall explain it in the following Chapter.

These are the general Helps to improve the Attention of the Mind: I know of no other, be∣sides a firm Resolution of being attentive; of which we forbear to speak, because we suppose it in those that give up themselves to study.

There are, however, some others particular to some Persons; as, some Meats, some Drinks, some Places, some Dispositions of the Body, and the like; which every one must learn from Ex∣perience, observing the State of his Imagination after the Meal, and what Things best preserve, or most dissipate the Attention of the Mind. This only may be said in general, That the moderate Use of such Aliments as make many Animal Spirits, is very fit to improve the Attention of the Mind, and the Strength of the Imagination, when 'tis weak and languishing.

CHAP. V.

Of the Means to improve the Extent and Capacity of the Mind: That Arith∣metick and Algebra are of absolute Necessity to it.

WE ought not hastily to imagine, that the Extent and Capacity of the Mind can really be increased. The Humane Soul is, if I may so speak, a determined Quantity, or a Portion of Thought, contained within some certain Bounds, which she cannot pass: She cannot grow greater, or more capacious than she is: She neither swells up, nor dilates, as 'tis commonly be∣lieved of Liquors and Metals; and perceives never more at one time, than another.

This, I confess, seems contrary to Experience; since sometimes we think upon many Objects, and sometimes but upon one; and even we often suppose, that we think upon nothing. How∣ever, if it be consider'd, that Thought is to the Soul, what Extension is to Matter; it will plain∣ly appear, that as a Body cannot truly be more extended at one time than another, so, if we conceive it right, the Soul cannot think more at one time than another; whether it be then that she perceives many Objects, or is taken up with one, or even when she is said to think upon nothing.

But the Reason why we imagine that we think more at one time than another, is, that we do not sufficiently distinguish betwixt confused and distinct Perceptions. More Thought is doubtless required, or the Capacity of Thinking must be more fill'd, distinctly to perceive several Objects, than one alone; but we need not more Thought, to perceive many Things confusedly, than one alone distinctly. Thus the Degrees or Quantity of Thought is equal in the Soul, when she con∣siders many Things, and when she considers only one: For, when she is taken up with one Thing, she has always a clearer Idea of it, than when she applies her self to many.

For, 'tis fit to be observed, That a simple Perception sometimes contains as much Thought, or fills as much the Thinking Capacity of the Mind, as a Judgment, and even a composed Reason∣ing; since Experience teaches us, that the simple but lively, clear, and evident Perception of one Thing, engages our Application, and possesses us as much, as a composed Reasoning, or the ob∣••cure and confused Perception of several Relations betwixt many Things.

For, as there is as much or more Sensation in the sensible Sight of an Object, which I hold near my Eyes, and curiously examine; than in the Sight of a spacious Field, on which I cast a negligent and careless Eye; because the nearness of the Sensation of the Object near my Eyes, makes up for the Extent of that confused Sensation of those many Things which I slightly and unatten∣tively look upon in a Field: So the spiritual Sight the Mind hath of an Object, is often so lively and distinct, that it contains as much and more Thought, than the View of the Relations betwixt many Things.

True it is, that at some certain times it seems to us as though we thought but upon one Thing, which yet we can hardly comprehend; whereas at other times we comprehend that Thing, and several others, with great easiness: Thence we imagine, that the Soul has more Extent, and a lar∣ger Capacity of Thinking, at one time, than at another. But our Mistake is visible; for the Rea∣son why at some certain times we can scarce conceive the easiest Things, proceeds not from the Capacity of the Soul's being straitned or impair'd; but from its being fill'd with some lively Sensation of Pain or Pleasure, or with a great number of weak and dark Sensations, that cause a sort of Giddiness, which is commonly nothing else but the confused Sensation of a great num∣ber of Things.

A Piece of Wax is susceptible of a very distinct Figure; but cannot admit two, without a Mixture of both; since it cannot be perfectly round and square at the same time: and if one should pretend to give it a Million of Figures, none of them would be distinct. And in that Case, supposing that Piece of Wax capable of knowing its own Figures, yet it could not tell which it is that terminates it on all sides, the number would be so great. It is even so with our Soul, when a very great number of Modifications take up her Capacity; she can perceive none distinctly, because she has not a separate Sensation of them, and so thinks she is sensible of no∣thing. She cannot say that she feels Pain, Pleasure, Light, Sound, Savour; 'tis none of those Qualities, and yet 'tis them all together, she is sensible of.

And though we should suppose that the Soul is not subject to the confused and unruly Motion of the Animal Spirits, and so free from the Contagion of her Body, as to have her Thoughts al∣together

independent on what happens in it; yet it might fall out that we should easier under∣stand some Things at one time than at another, without any Enlargement or Diminution in the Capacity of our Soul; for then we might think upon particular Objects, or of Being indefinite and in general.

The general Idea of Infinite is inseparable from the Mind, and wholly takes up its Capacity, whenever it thinks upon no particular Thing: For when we say, that we think on nothing, it sig∣nifies not that we think not upon that general Idea, but only that our Thoughts are not applied to any particular Object.

And certainly, if that Idea did not fill our Mind, we could not think, as we do, upon all sorts of Things; since we cannot think upon Objects of which we have no Knowledge. And if that Idea were not more present to the Mind when we suppose we think upon nothing, than when we are busie about some particular Object, we could as easily think upon whatever we please, when we are mightily taken up with some particular. Truth, as when we are not attentive unto any thing: Which is repugnant to Experience. For, to instance, when we are strongly engag'd in meditating on some Geometrical Proposition, we find not so much easiness to think upon other Things, as when we are diverted by no particular Thought. And therefore we think more on the General and Infinite Being, when we think less on the Particular and Finite; and we think al∣ways as much at one time as at another.

We cannot then improve the Extent and Capacity of the Mind, by swelling it up, as I may say, and giving it more Reality than it has received from Nature: But only by a skilful and dex∣terous managing thereof; which is done to the best advantage by Arithmetick and Algebra: For those Sciences afford Means of abridging Ideas so methodically, and reducing them into such an Order, as that the Mind, with its little Extent, is capable, with their Assistance, of discovering very composed Truths, and such as appear at first sight incomprehensible. But we must draw these Things from their Principle, that we may explain them with more clearness and certainty.

Truth is nothing else but a real Relation, either of Equality or Inequality: Whereas Falsehood is but the Negation of Truth, or a false and fantastick Relation. Truth is that which is, and False∣hood is not; or, if you will, is that which is not. We never mistake when we see Relations that are, since we cannot be deceived when we see the Truth: But we always mistake, when we judge that we see some Relations that are not in being; for then we see a Falsehood, we see what is not, or rather we see not at all. Whoever sees a Relation of Equality betwixt two times Two, and Four, sees a Truth, because there is such a Relation as he sees; and whoever sees a Relation of Inequality betwixt twice Two, and Five, sees a Truth, because he sees a Relation that really is: But whoever judges that he sees a Relation of Equality betwixt two times Two, and Five, mistakes, because he sees, or rather supposes he sees, a Relation of Equality where there is none. Truths are but Relations, and the Knowledge of Truths is the Knowledge of Relations: But Falsehood is not, and the Knowledge of Falsehood, or a false Knowledge, is, if it may be so said, the Knowledge of what is not; and what is not, cannot be known, but by Relation to what is: So Errour cannot be understood, but by comparing it to Truth.

There may be distinguished as many Species of Falsehood, as of Truth; and as there are Three sorts of Relations, viz. of one Idea to another; of an Object to its Idea, or of an Idea to its Object; and lastly, of one Object to another: So there are Three kinds of Truth and Falsehood; namely, betwixt Ideas, betwixt Things and their Ideas, and betwixt Things themselves. It is true, that 2 times 2 are 4; 'tis false, that twice 2 are 5: That is a Truth and a Falsehood betwixt Ideas. 'Tis true, that there is one Sun; 'tis false, that there are two: Here you have a Truth and a False∣hood betwixt Things and their Ideas. 'Tis true, that the Earth is bigger than the Moon; and 'tis false, that the Sun is smaller than the Earth: There is a Truth and Falsehood betwixt Objects themselves.

Of those Three sorts of Truths, such as are betwixt Ideas are Eternal and Immutable, and upon that account are the Rule and Measure of all others; because every Rule and Measure ought to be unchangeable. And as Arithmetick, Algebra, and Geometry, are general Sciences, that rule and contain all the particular; so they only consider those sorts of Truths. All Truths or Relations betwixt Creatures, or betwixt Ideas and created Things, are obnoxious to those Changes whereof Creatures are susceptible. Nothing but the Truth betwixt our Ideas and the Sovereign Being, or betwixt Ideas themselves, is Immutable; because neither God, nor the Ideas he contains, are subject to Alteration.

And therefore 'tis only that sort of Truths which are betwixt our Ideas, that we try to disco∣ver by the Exercise of our Reason; since we, for the most part, make use of our Senses to disco∣ver the others; as, we use our Eyes and Hands to ascertain us of the Existence of Things, and to know the Relations of Equality or Inequality betwixt them. There is nothing but Ideas of which the Mind can Infallibly know the Relations by it self, and without the use of Senses. But there are not only Relations betwixt our Ideas, there are also Relations betwixt the Relations of our Ideas, betwixt the Relations of those Relations, betwixt the Collection of many Relations, and so ad infinitum; that is to say, that there are Truths infinitely compounded and perplexed. In Geometrical Stile we call a simple Truth, or the Relation of one Idea to another, (as the Relation of 4 to 2, or to 2 times 2) a Geometrical Reason, or only a Reason: For the Excess and Defect of an Idea, or, to use the common Terms, the Excess or Defect of a Magnitude, is not properly a Reason; nor equal Excesses and Defects, equal Reasons. When the Ideas or Mag∣nitudes are equal, there is a Reason of Equality, and one of Inequality when they are unequal.

The Relation betwixt Relations of Magnitudes, that is to say, between Reasons, is called Com∣pounded Reason, because 'tis a compounded Relation; as the Relation of 6 to 4, and 3 to 2. When the Compounding Reasons are equal, the Compounded bears the Name of Proportion, or Duplicate Reason. The Relations of 8 to 4, and 6 to 3, are a Proportion; because those two Relations are equal.

It must be observed, That all the Relations or Reasons, as well simple as compounded, are true Magnitudes, that very Name of Magnitude being a relative Term, and necessarily importing a Relation: For, there is nothing Great by it self, and without Relation to another, besides the Infinite or Unite. All entire Numbers are as true Relations as Fractions themselves, or as Num∣bers compared with, or divided by, others; though we do not consider this, because entire Num∣bers may be express'd by one Arithmetical Figure. So 4, for instance, or 8/2, is as true a Relation as 2/4, or 2/8, though the Unite to which 4 relates, be not expressed, but understood, 4 being equal to 4••••, or 8/2; and therefore every Magnitude being a Relation, or every Relation being a Magnitude, it is plain that we can express all Magnitudes by Cyphers, and represent them by Signs to the Imagination.

So that all Truths being but Relations, to know all Truths exactly, both simple and compound∣ed, it is sufficient to have an exact Knowledge of all sorts of Relations, simple and compound: We have already observed, that there are two, viz. Relations of Equality, and Inequality. It is plain, that those of Equality are alike; and that as soon as we know that a Thing is equal to another that is known, we have an accurate Knowledge of its Relation: But it goes not so with Inequality; for because we know that a Tower is higher than a Fathom, and lower than a thou∣sand, it follows not that we have a true Idea of its Heighth, or of its Relation with a Fathom.

To compare things together, or rather critically to measure the Relations of Inequality, there is required a very exact Measure, a simple and very intelligible Idea, an universal Measure, which may be adap••ed to all sorts of Subjects. That Measure is Unity, which serves to measure all Things, and without which 'tis impossible to have an accurate Knowledge of any. But all Num∣bers being made up of Unites, 'tis evident, that without the Ideas of Numbers, and a Method of comparing and measuring those Ideas, that is, without Arithmetick, 'tis not possible to make any Progress in the Knowledge of Compound Truths.

And as Ideas, and the Relations betwixt Ideas; in short, all sorts of Magnitudes can be great∣er or less than others; so they canno•• be made equal, but by more or less Unites join'd, or re∣peated as often as 'tis necessary: So that it is only by the Addition and Subtraction of Unity, or of the Parts of the Unity (when 'tis conceived as divided) that we exactly measure all sorts of Magnitudes, and discover all sorts of Truths. Now Arithmetick and Algebra are, of all Sci∣ences, those that afford us most Skill and Light to effect those Operations, and to manage the Ca∣pacity of the Mind to the best Advantage, since they endue it with all the Perfection and Extent that it is capable of, and teach it to discover all the Truths that can be exactly known.

For ordinary Geometry does not so perfect the Mind, as the Imagination; and the Truths which that Science discovers, are not always so evident as the Masters of it fansie. For instance: They suppose they have express'd the Value of some Magnitudes, when they have proved them to be equal to some Lines, that are the Subtendant of Right Angles, whose Sides are perfectly known; or to others, that are determined by some one of the Conick Sections. But their Mistake is vi∣sible; for those Subtendants are unknown themselves. We know more exactly the √ 8, or the √ 20, than a Line imagined or described upon Paper, to be the Subtendant of a Right Angle, whose Sides are 2, or one Side of which is 2, and the other 4: At least we know, that the √4 is very near 3, and that the √ 20 is about 4 ½ and there are Rules to come infinitely nearer and nearer the true Magnitude; and if we cannot attain to it, 'tis because the Mind cannot compre∣hend Infinite. Whereas we have but a very confused Idea of the Magnitude of Subtendant Lines, and are even obliged to have recourse to the √ 8, or the √ 20, to express them. So that the Geometrical Constructions that are used to represent the Value of unknown Quantities, are not so conducible to the Mind, to discover the Relations or Truths sought for, as to rule the Imagi∣nation: But as we are more inclined to imploy our Imagination, than our Mind; so Men of Learning have commonly more esteem for Geometry, than for Arithmetick and Algebra.

To understand perfectly, that Arithmetick and Algebra, join'd together, are a real Logick, or the Means to discover the Truth, and afford the Mind as much Extent as it can acquire, it is suffi∣cient to make some Reflections upon the Rules of those Sciences.

We have observed, That all Truths are but Relations; that the most simple, and best known of all, is that of Equality; that it is the initial Relation, from whence we must begin to measure others, whereby to have an exact Idea of Inequality; that the Measure of Inequality is the Unite, which must be repeated or subtracted as often as the Excess or Defect of unequal Magnitudes require it.

Thence it is plain, that all the Operations that may be subservient to discover the Relations of Equality, are only Additions and Subtractions; Additions of Magnitudes, to make Magnitudes even; Additions of Relations, to make equal Relations, or to put Magnitudes in proportion with each other; and lastly, Additions of the Relations of Relations, to equal Relations of Re∣lations, or to put Magnitudes in a Compound Proportion.

To equal 4 to 2, we need only add 2 to 2, or subtract 2 from 4; or lastly, to add the Unite to 2, and subtract it from 4; that's plain.

To even the Relation or Reason of 8 to 2, to that of 6 to 3, we must not add 3 to 2, or

subtract 3 from 8, so that the Excess of one Number to the other ever should be equal to 3, which is the Excess of 6 above 3; that would be an Addition, and Evening of simple Magni∣tudes: But we must consider first, which is the Magnitude of the Relation of 8 to 2, or what is the Value of 8/2; and we shall find, that dividing 8 by 2, the Quotient of that Reason will be 4, or that 8/2 is equal to 4. We must likewise see which is the Magnitude of the Relation of 6 to 3; and finding it equal to 2, we shall discover, that those two Reasons, 8/2 equal to 4, and 6/•• equal to 2, differ only by 2: So to make them even, we may either add 6/3 to 6/3, equal to 2▪ which will make ••2/3, that is, a Relation equal to 8/2; or subtract 4/2, equal to 2, from 8/2, which will make 4/2, that is, a Relation equal to 6/3; or lastly, adding the Unite to 6/3, and sutracting it from 8/2, we shall have 9/3 and 6/2, which are equal Relations; for 9 is to 3, as 6 to 2.

Lastly, To find out the Greatness of Inequality betwixt Relations, proceeding, one from a Com∣pounded Reason, or from the Relation of a Relation of 12 to 3, and 3 to 1; and the other from a Compounded Reason, or from the Relation of a Relation, as of 8 to 2, and 2 to 1; we must follow the same Method. First, The Magnitude of the Reason of 12 to 3, is marked by 4; 4 being the Quotient of the Reason of 12 to 3, and 3 the Quotient of that of 3 to 1; and the Quotient of Reason of the Quotients 4 and 3, is 4/3. Secondly, The Quotient of 8 to 2, is 4; and that of 2 to 1, is 2; and the Quotient of the Quotients 4 and 2, is 2: So that the Inequa∣lity betwixt the Relations, that here result from the Relations of the Relations, is the Difference betwixt 4/2 and 2, that is to say, ••/3: And therefore add 2/•• to the Relation of the Reasons 12 to 3, and 3 to 1; or subtract them from the Relations of the other Reasons, 8 to 2, and 2 to 1; and you'll make even those Relations of Relations, and produce a Compounded Proportion. Thus we may use Additions and Subtractions to equal Magnitudes, and their Relations both simple and compounded; and likewise to frame an accurate Idea of the Greatness of their Inequality.

True it is, that we use also Multiplications and Divisions, both simple and compounded; but they are only Compound Additions and Subtractions. To multiply 4 by 3, is to make as many Additions of 4, as 3 contains Unites; or to find a Number that has the same Relation to 4, as 3 with the Unite. To divide 12 by 4, is to subtract 4 from 12 as often as possible; that is, to find a Relation to the Unite, that may be equal to that of 12 to 4; for 3, which is the Quoti∣ent, has the same Relation to 1, as 12 has to 4. The Extractions of the Square, Cubick, and other Roots, are but Divisions, to find out one, two, or three mean proportional Magnitudes.

'Tis evident, that the Mind of Man is so narrow, his Memory so unfaithful, and his Imagination so shallow, that, without the use of Figures, and Writing, and the Skill of Arithmetick, it would be impossible to make the necessary Operations, to know the Inequality of Magnitudes, and their Relations, especially where many Numbers must be added or subtracted; or, which is the same thing, when those Numbers are very great, and can be added but by Parts: For some of them would still be forgotten, there being no Imagination so extended, as to add together very great Fractions, as 4723/1203, 12431/17240122; or to subtract one from the other.

Multiplication, Division, and the Extraction of Roots in entire Numbers, are infinitely more puzling, than simple Additions or Subtractions. The Mind alone, without the help of Arith∣metick, is too shallow and weak to make such Operations; and it would be to no purpose to insist upon the Proofs of it.

Notwithstanding, Analyticks, or Algebra, is still more excellent than Arithmetick; because it less divides the Capacity of the Mind, and abridges the Ideas in the most simple and easie manner imaginable. What may be done in a long time by Arithmetick, is performed in a moment by Algebra, without puzling the Mind by the Change of Cyphers; and the Tediousness of Operati∣ons. And lastly, There are knowable Things, and necessary to be known, of which Arithmetick alone cannot afford the Knowledge; but I believe not that there is any Thing useful, and which may be certainly and exactly known, but it may be found out by an Arithmetical and Algebraical Method. So that those two Sciences are the Foundation of all others, and help us to the true Means to acquire all those that are accurate, because the Capacity of the Mind cannot be better managed than it is by Arithmetick, and especially by Algebra.

THE SECOND PART OF THE SIXTH BOOK, Concerning METHOD.

CHAP. I.

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

HAving explain'd the means how to improve the Attention and Extension of the Mind, by which alone it may acquire a greater perfection, that is, become more enlightned, sagaci∣ous and piercing; it is time to set down those Rules, the Observation whereof is abso∣lutely necessary to resolve any Question whatsoever. I shall insist long upon it, and en∣deavour to explain them by several Instances; that their necessity may be better known, and the Mind accustomed to make use of them; it being not so difficult or necessary, to know them theo∣retically, as to put them in Practice.

Let none expect here very extraordinary, surprizing and abstruse things: For on the contrary, that those Rules may be good, they must be very simple, natural and few, very plain and intel∣ligible, and depending on each other; in short, such as may lead our Mind, and rule our Atten∣tion, without distracting either: For Experience shews that the Logick of Aristotle is of no great use, because it takes up the Mind too much, and disturbs the Attention it ought to give to the Subjects of its Enquiry. Let then those Lovers of Mysteries and rare Inventions lay aside for a while that capricious humour, and consider, as attentively as they can, whether the Rules we shall pre∣scribe are sufficient to preserve Evidence in the Preceptions of the Mind, and to discover the most hidden Truths. Unless they suffer themselves to be unjustly prejudiced against those Rules, by the simplicity and easiness of the same, I hope that the great use which may be made of them, as we shall shew hereafter, will convince them, that the most clear and simple Principles are the most pregnant and fecund, and that rare and difficult things are not always so useful as our fruit∣less Curiosity endeavours to persuade us.

The Principle of all those Rules is, that we must always preserve Evidence in our Reasonings, to discover Truth without Fear, and danger of being mistaken. From that Principle follows this general Rule, that respects the Subject of our Studies: We ought only to Reason upon such things, whereof we have clear and distinct Ideas; and by a necessary consequence, we must still begin with the most simple and easie Subjects, and insist long upon them, before we undertake the Enquiry into such as are more composed and difficult.

The Rules that concern the Method to be taken in resolving Questions, depend likewise on the same Principle; and the first of those Rules is, that we must very distinctly conceive the State of the Question proposed to be resolv'd: that is, have Ideas of the Terms so distinct, as that we may com∣pare them together, and discover the Relations which we look for.

When those Relations cannot be found out by an immediate comparison of their Ideas, then the second Rule is, that we must try by an Essay of Thought to discover one, or several intermediate Ideas, that may be a means or common measure to discover the Relations that are betwixt those things. A special care is to be taken that those Ideas be the more clear and distinct, as the Relations we endeavour to discover are more nicely exact and numerous.

When the Questions are very difficult, and require a long Examination, the third Rule is, that we must carefully take off from the Subject to be consider'd, all things whose Examination is not needful to the Discovery of the Truth we are in quest of. For the Capacity of the Mind must not be vainly shar'd and divided, but its strength must only be employed in such things as may en∣lighten it; so that all those things which are to be laid aside, are such as concern not the Questi∣on, and which, when taken off, leave it whole and entire.

When the Question is thus brought within the least compass, the fourth Rule is, to divide the Subject of our Meditations into Parts, and consider them one after the other in a natural order; be∣ginning with the most simple, or those that contain the least number of Relations, and never medling with the more composed, before the most simple are distinctly known, and become familiar.

When they are become familiar by Meditation, the fifth Rule is, to abridge Ideas and dispose them in the Imagination, or write them upon Paper, that they may no longer clog and fill up the Capacity of the Mind. Though that Rule be always useful, yet 'tis not of absolute necessity; un∣less it be in very intricate Questions, that require a great extent of Mind, (for the Mind is only enlarg'd by the abridgment of Ideas). But the use of that Rule and the following, is best known by Algebra.

The Ideas of all the things that necessarily require Examination, being clear, familiar, abridg'd, and disposed and ranged in good order in the Imagination, or written upon Paper, the sixth Rule is, to compare them all by the Rules of Complications, one with the other alternately, either by the View of the Mind alone, or by the Motion of the Imagination, attended with the View of the Mind, or by the Calculation of the Pen joined to the attention of the Mind and Imagination.

If amongst all the Relations that result from those Comparisons, you find not that which you enquire after, then take off again all the Relations that are not subservient to resolve the Question, make the others familiar, abridge them, posture and dispose them in the Imagination, or write them upon Paper, compare them together by the Rules of Complications, and then see whether the composed Relation that is look'd for, is one of the composed Relations that result from those new Com∣parisons.

If none of those new discover'd Relations contain the Solution of the Question, then take off again those that are useless, make the other familiar, &c. [That is, doe the same over and over, and] continuing thus, you shall discover the Truth or Relation you enquire after, how composed soever it may be; provided you can extend the Capacity of your Mind to it, by abridging your Ideas, and still in all your Operations having before your Eyes the Scope you aim at. For 'tis the continual and steady view of the Question which must regulate all the advances of the Mind; since we should always know whither we are going.

We must above all take care not to satisfie our selves with some glimpse or likelyhood; but begin anew so often the Comparisons that are conducible to discover the Truths enquired after, as that we may not withold our Assent to it, without feeling the secret Lashes and Reproofs of our internal Master that Answers our Questions, that is, the Application of our Mind, and the De∣sires of our Heart. Then will that Truth serve as an infallible Principle, to proceed in the Ac∣quisition of Sciences.

All the Rules we have given are not necessary in all sorts of Questions: for the first Rule is suf∣ficient in those that are easie: and we need but in some others the first and second. In short, since we must make use of those Rules, 'till we have discover'd the Truth we seek for; it follows, that the more difficult the Questions are, the greater must the number of those Rules be which we must put in practice.

Those Rules are not very numerous, but very natural, as depending upon each other, and may be made so familiar as to fall of themselves into the Mind, as often as shall be requisite. In short, they can rule the Attention of the Mind without dividing it, which is in great part what we could desire; but they look so inconsiderable in themselves, that to make them more recommendable, it is necessary to shew that the Philosophers are fallen into a great many Errours, and Extrava∣gancies, by not observing so much as the two first, which are the chief and easiest of all; whereas Des Cartes, by their use, has discover'd all those great and fruitful Truths, which are to be learn'd in his Works.

CHAP. II.

Of the general Rule that concerns the Subject of our Studies: That School-Philosophers observe it not, which is the Cause of several Errours in their Physicks.

THE first of these Rules, and which respects the Subject of our Studies, teaches, that we must not argue, except from clear Ideas; whence it follows, that to study methodically, we must begin with things most simple and easie to be understood, and insist long upon them, before we undertake to enquire after the more composed and difficult.

Every one will easily grant the necessity of that general Rule; plainly seeing, that he walks in the dark, who reasons upon obscure Ideas, and uncertain Principles. But 'twill be matter of sur∣prize to hear us affirm, that it is hardly ever observed; and that the greatest part of those Scien∣ces, which still at this day flush the Pride of some false Pretenders to Science, are only grounded upon such Ideas, as are either too confused, or too general, to be conducible to the finding out of Truth.

Aristotle, who so justly deserves the Quality of Prince of such Philosophers, (as being the Fa∣ther of that Philosophy which they so studiously cultivate,) reasons very seldom upon other Ideas, than such as are confused and sensible, and upon others that are general, undetermin'd, and repre∣senting nothing particular to the Mind. For the ordinary Expressions of that Philosopher are so perplexed, as to represent only to the Senses and Imagination, the confused Sentiments we have of sensible things; or to make his Disciples speak in such a rambling and indeterminate manner,

as not to understand themselves. Most of his Works, but especially his Eight Books of Physicks, on which are as many different Commentators as there are Professors of Philosophy, are a mere Logical Tattle, where he talks much, and says nothing: Not that his Stile is too copious and diffused, but because he has a particular Talent at being succinct, and saying nothing but Words. In his other Works he makes not such frequent use of his loose and general Terms; but those he employs raise only the confused Ideas of the Senses; by which Ideas he pretends, in his Problems, and elsewhere, to resolve in two Words an infinite Number of Questions, of which it may be de∣monstrated that they are altogether insoluble.

But that my Meaning may be better understood, what I have proved in other Places must here be remembred, viz. That all the Terms that excite nothing but sensible Ideas, are equivocal; nay, and what's to be well observ'd, Equivocal from Errour and Ignorance, which must needs cause an infinite number of Delusions.

The Word Ram is equivocal, signifying an Animal that ruminates, and a Constellation into which the Sun enters at Spring; but that seldom causes any Mistake: For he must be an Astrologer with a Witness, who should imagine any Relation betwixt those two Things, and believe, for in∣stance, that we are subject at that time to vomit up the Medicines that we take, because the Ram is a ruminating Beast. But as to the Terms of sensible Ideas, but few acknowledge them for Equivocal. Aristotle and the Ancient Philosophers did not so much as dream on't; which will be agreed to by any one that has read any of their Books, and distinctly knows the Cause why those Words are liable to Equivocation. For nothing is more evident, than that the Philosophers Opi∣nion, as to that Matter, was quite contrary to the Truth.

For instance: When they say, that Fire is hot, Grass green, Sugar sweet; they understand, just as Children, and the vulgar of Men, that Fire contains in it what they feel when they warm them∣selves; that Grass has painted upon it the Colours they see; that Sugar is endued with that Sweetness they taste when they eat it; and so as to all other visible and sensible Qualities; which cannot be denied by those that have read their Writings. They talk of sensible Qualities as of Sensations; they take Heat for Motion. And thus, by the Equivocation of Terms, they confound the Modes of Existence peculiar to Bodies, with the Modifications of the Soul.

'Tis no longer since than Des Cartes's time, that to those confused and indeterminate Questi∣ons, Whether Fire is hot, Grass green, and Sugar sweet, &c. we use to answer by distinguish∣ing the Equivocation of sensible Terms that express them. If by Heat, Colour, and Savour, you understand such and such Dispositions of Parts, or Motion of insensible Particles, then Fire is hot, Grass green, and Sugar sweet. But if by Heat, and other Qualities, you understand what I feel when near the Fire, what I see when I see Grass, &c. Fire is not hot, nor Grass green, &c. For the Heat I feel, and the Colours I see, are only in the Soul, as has been proved in the First Book. But as Men commonly suppose, that what they feel is the same with that which is in the Object; so they believe they are in the right, when they judge of the Qualities of Objects by their own Sensations: And thus they hardly say two Words without speaking a Falsehood, and never say any thing upon that Matter, but what is obscure and confused; and that for the several following Reasons.

First, Because all Men have not the same Sensations of the same Objects, nor even the same Man in different Times, or when different Parts of his Body are affected by them. What is sweet to one, is bitter to another; what is hot to one, is cold to another; what seems hot to a Man when he is cold, feels cold to himself when he is hot, or when other Parts of his Body are affected. Water, that feels warm to the Hands, will seem cold if we wash with it any Part near the Heart. Salt, that is savoury to the Tongue, is pricking and smarting to a Wound. Su∣gar is sweet, and Aloes very bitter to the Tongue; but nothing is either sweet or bitter to the other Senses: So that when we say, a Thing is cold, sweet, bitter, &c. that same has no certain Signification.

Secondly, Because different Objects can cause the same Sensation. Plaister, Bread, Snow, Su∣gar, Salt, &c. are of the same Colour; and yet their Whiteness is different, if we judge of 'em otherwise than by the Senses: And therefore when we say, that Meal is white, we say not any thing distinctly significative.

The third Reason is, Because such Qualities of Bodies as occasion Sensations altogether diffe∣rent, are however almost the same; whereas such as excite very near the same Sensation, are often very different. The Qualities of Sweetness and Bitterness differ but little in Objects; whereas the Sense of Sweet essentially differs from that of Bitter. The Motions that cause Smart and Tickling, differ but in more or less; and yet the Sensations of Tickling and Smart are essentially different. On the contrary, the Sharpness of Fruit differs not so much from Bitterness, as Sweet∣ness does; however, that sharp Quality is the farthest from Bitterness that possibly can be: For, a Fruit that is sharp for being unripe, must undergo a great many Changes, before it grows bitter from Rottenness, or too much Ripeness. When Fruits are ripe, they taste sweet; and bitter, when over-ripe: Bitterness and Sweetness therefore in Fruits differ but in degree of more and less; which may be the Reason why they seem sweet to some Persons, whilst they taste bitter to others: Nay, there are those to whom Aloes seem as sweet as Honey. The same may be said of all sensible Ideas; so that the Words Sweet, Bitter, Salt, Sowre, Acid, &c. Red, Green, Yellow, &c. of such and such a Smell, Savour, Colour, &c. are all equivocal, and raise no clear and distinct Idea in the Mind. However, School-Philosophers, and the vulgar part of Men, judge of all the sensible Qualities of Bodies by the Sensations they receive from them.

Nor do the Philosophers only judge of these sensible Qualities by their own Sensations of them; but also judge of the Things themselves, from the Judgments they have pass'd about sen∣sible Qualities: For, from their having had Sensations of certain Qualities essentially different, they judge that there is a Generation of new Forms, producing those fantastick Differences. Wheat appears yellow, hard, &c. Meal, white, soft, &c. Thence, upon the Testimony of their Eyes and Hands, they infer, That those Bodies are essentially different, unless they chance to think on the Manner of the Transmutation of Wheat into Flower: For Meal is nothing but bruised and ground Corn; as Fire is only divided and agitated Wood; as Ashes are but the grossest Parts of the divided Wood without Agitation; as Glass is but Ashes, whose Particles have been polished and rounded by the Attrition caus'd by the Fire: And so in other Transmutations of Bodies.

'Tis therefore evident, that sensible Words and Ideas are altogether unserviceable to a just sta∣ting, and clear resolving of Questions; that is, to the Discovery of Truth. Yet there are no Que∣stions, how intricate soever they may be, by the equivocal Terms of the Senses, but Aristotle, and most part of other Philosophers, pretend to resolve them in their Books, without the forego∣ing Distinctions, and without considering that they are equivocal by Errour and Ignorance.

If, for example, those Persons who have employed the best part of their Life in reading Anci∣ent Philosophers and Physicians, and have wholly imbib'd their Spirit and Opinions, are ask'd whether Water be wet, whether Fire be dry, Wine hot, the Blood of Fishes cold, Water rawer than Wine, Gold perfecter than Mercury; whether Plants and Beasts have Souls; and a thousand like undetermin'd Questions; they rashly answer, by consulting only the Impressions of Objects upon their Senses, or the Tracks the reading of Authors has left upon their Memory. They never think those Terms are equivocal; 'tis a Wonder to them they should need a Defini∣tion; and they cannot endure those that endeavour to let 'em understand, that their Procedure is too quick, and that they are seduced by their Senses; and though they are never at a loss for Distinctions to perplex the most evident Things, yet in these Questions, in which Equivocation needs so much to be removed, they find nothing to distinguish.

If we consider, that most of the Questions of Philosophers and Physicians contain some equi∣vocal Terms, like to those that have been spoken of; we shall not doubt, but that those Learned Gentlemen, that could not define them, were unable to say any Thing solid and real, in the bulky Volumes they have compos'd: Which is, in a manner, sufficient to overthrow most of the Opi∣nions of the Ancients. It is not so with Des Cartes; he perfectly knew how to distinguish those Things: He ne'er resolves any Question by sensible Ideas; and whoever shall be at the pains to read him, shall see, that he clearly, evidently, and almost ever demonstratively, explains the chief Operations of Nature by the sole and distinct Ideas of Extension, Figures, and Motion.

The second sort of equivocal Words, that is much in request amongst Philosophers, contains all those general Terms of Logick by which any Thing may be easily explain'd, without so much as knowing it. Aristotle was the Man that made the most of it; his Books are full of nothing else, and some are but a mere Logick: He proposes and resolves all Things by the specious Words of Genus, Species, Act, Power, Nature, Form, Faculty, Quality, Causa per se, Causa per acci∣dens: His Followers can hardly understand that those Words signifie Nothing, and that one is not more learned than he was, when he has heard, that Fire dissolves Metals by its dissolving Faculty; that a Man digests not, because his Stomach is weak, or because his Concoctive Faculty does not operate as it should do.

I grant, that those who use such general Terms and Ideas for the Explication of all Things, commonly fall not into so many Errours, as those that only employ such Words as raise the con∣fused Ideas of the Senses. The School-Philosophers are not so liable to be deceived, as some opinionative and dogmatical Physicians, who build Systems upon Experiments, the Reasons of which are unknown to them; because the School-men talk so generally, that they do not venture much out of their Depth.

Fire heats, dries, hardens, and softens, because it has the Faculty of producing those Effects: Sena purges by its purgative Quality: Bread nourishes by its nutritious Quality. These Proposi∣tions are not liable to mistake; for a Quality is that which denominates a Thing by such a Name; Master Aristotle's Definition is undeniable: But he speaks true only because he says no∣thing; and if his rambling, loose, and indefinite Notions engage not into Errour, at least they are wholly unserviceable to the Discovery of Truth.

For, though we know that there is in Fire a substantial Form, attended with a Million of Fa∣culties, like to that of heating, dilating, melting Gold, Silver, and other Metals, lightening, burning, roasting; the Idea of that substantial Form, with all its Faculties of producing Heat, Fluidity, Rarefaction, will not help me to resolve this Question, Why Fire hardens Clay, and sof∣tens Wax? There being no Connection betwixt the Ideas of Hardness in Clay and Softness in Wax, and those of a substantial Form in Fire, and its Faculties of Rarefaction, Fluidity, &c. The same may be said of all general Ideas; which are utterly insufficient for resolving any Question.

But when I know that Fire is nothing else but divided Wood, whose Parts are in a continual Agitation, by which alone it raises in me the Sensation of Heat; and that the Softness of Clay consists in a Mixture of Water and Earth; those Ideas being not general and confused, but par∣ticular and distinct, it will not be difficult to perceive that the Heat of Fire must harden Clay, nothing being easier to conceive, than that one Body may move another, if it meet with it, being it self in Motion. We likewise easily perceive, that since the Heat we feel near the Fire is caused

by the Motion of the invisible Particles of Wood striking against our Hands, Face, &c. if we ex∣pose Clay to the Heat of Fire, the Particles of Water, that are mixed with those of Earth, be∣ing more thin and disunited, and consequently more agitated by the Action and Impulse of the fiety Corpuscles, than the gross Particles of Earth, must be separated and expelled, and the other remain dry and hard. We shall perceive with the same Evidence, that Fire must produce a quite contrary Effect upon Wax, if we know that it is composed of Particles that are branched, and almost of the same Bulk. Thus may particular Ideas be subservient to the Enquiry after Truth, whilst loose and undeterminate Notions are not only altogether unserviceable, but also insensibly engage us into Errour.

For, these Philosophers are not content to make use of those general Terms, and uncertain Ideas which answer to them; they moreover pretend, that those Words signifie some particular Beings; they give out, that there is a Substance distinguished from Matter, which is the Form of it; and withal, an infinite Number of little Beings, really distinguished from that Matter and Form, of which they suppose as many as they have different Sensations of Bodies, or as those Bodies are supposed to produce different Effects.

However, 'tis visible to any attentive Person, that those little Beings, for instance, that are said to be distinguished from Fire, and suppos'd to be contained in it for the producing Heat, Light, Hardness, Fluidity, &c. are but the Contrivances of the Imagination, that rebells against Reason; since Reason has no particular Idea that represents those little Beings. When the Philo∣sophers are asked, What is the illuminating Faculty in Fire? They only answer, That 'tis a Be∣ing which is the Cause that Fire is capable of producing Light. So that their Idea of that illu∣minating Faculty differs not from the general Idea of Cause, and the confused Idea of the Effect they see; and therefore they have no clear Idea of what they say, when they admit those parti∣cular Beings; and so say what they not only understand not, but what's impossible to be under∣stood.

CHAP. III.

Of the most dangerous Errour in the Philosophy of the Ancients.

PHilosophers not only speak without understanding themselves, when they explain the Effects of Nature by some Beings of which they have no particular Idea; but also establish a Prin∣ciple whence very false and pernicious Consequences may directly be drawn.

For, supposing with them, that there are in Bodies certain Entities distinguished from Matter, and having no distinct Idea of those Entities; 'tis easie to imagine, that they are the real or prin∣cipal Causes of the Effects we see. And this is the very Opinion of the vulgar Philosophers. The prime Reason of their supposing those substantial Forms, real Qualities, and other such like Entities, is, to explain the Effects of Nature: But when we come attentively to consider the Idea we have of Cause or Power of acting, we cannot doubt but that it represents something Di∣vine: For, the Idea of a Sovereign Power is the Idea of a Sovereign Divinity; and the Idea of a subordinate Power, the Idea of an inferiour Divinity, yet a true Divinity; at least, according to the Opinion of the Heathens, supposing it to be the Idea of a true Power or Cause. And there∣fore we admit something Divine in all the Bodies that surround us, when we acknowledge Forms, Faculties, Qualities, Virtues, and real Beings that are capable of producing some Effects by the force of their Nature; and thus insensibly approve of the Sentiments of the Heathens, by too great a Deference for their Philosophy. Faith indeed corrects us; but it may perhaps be said, that the Mind is a Pagan, whilst the Heart is a Christian.

Moreover, it is a hard Matter to persuade our selves, that we ought neither to fear nor love true Powers and Beings, that can act upon us, punish us with some Pain, or reward us with some Pleasure. And as Love and Fear are a true Adoration, it is hard again to imagine why they must not be ador'd: For, whatever can act upon us as a true and real Cause, is necessarily above us, according to Reason and St. Austin; and, by the same Reason and Authority, 'tis likewise an immutable Law, That inferiour Beings should be subservient to superiour: Whence that great Fa∣ther concludes, That the Body cannot operate upon the Soul * 1.43, and that nothing can be above her but God only.

The chief Reasons that God Almighty uses in the Holy Scriptures, to prove to the Israelites, that they ought to adore, that is, to love and fear him, are drawn from his Power to reward or pu∣nish them; representing to them the Benefits they have received from him, the Punishments he has inflicted upon them, and his Power that is always the same. He forbids them to adore the Gods of the Heathens, as such as have no Power over them, and can doe them neither harm nor good. He commands them to honour him alone, as the only true Cause of Good and Evil, Reward and Pu∣nishment;* 1.44 none of which can befal a City, according to the Prophet, but what comes from him, by reason that natural Causes are not the true Causes of the Hurt they seem to doe us; and as it is God alone that acts in them, so 'tis He alone that must be fear'd and lov'd in them: Soli Deo Honor & Gloria.

Lastly, The Sense of fearing and Loving what may be the true Cause of Good and Evil, appears so natural and just, that it is not possible to cast it off. So that in that false Supposition of the Philosophers, which we are here endeavouring to destroy, that the surrounding Bodies are the true Causes of our Pain and Pleasure; Reason seems to justifie a Religion like the Pagan Idola∣try, and approve the universal Depravation of Morals.

Reason I grant, teaches not, to adore Onions and Leeks, for instance, as the Sovereign Divi∣nity; because they can never make us altogether happy when we have them, or unhappy when we want them: neither did the Heathens worship them with an equal Homage as their great Jupiter, whom they fansied to be the God of Gods; or as the Sun, whom our Senses represent as the universal Cause, that gives Life and Motion to all things, and which we can hardly forbear to look on as the Sovereign Divinity, if we suppose, as the Pagan Philosophers, that he Compre∣hends in his Being, the true Causes of what he seems to produce, as well upon our Soul and Bo∣dy, as upon all the Beings that surround us.

But if we must not pay a Sovereign Worship to Leeks and Onions, they deserve, at least, some particular Adoration; I mean they may be thought upon and loved in some manner, if it be true, that they can in some sort make us happy, and may be honour'd proportionably to the good they doe us. Surely Men that listen to the Reports of Sense, think Pulse capable of doing them good; otherwise the Israelites would not have bewailed the loss of them in the Wilderness, or look'd on themselves as unhappy, for being deprived thereof, had they not fansied to themselves some great Happiness in the Enjoyment of them. See what an Abyss of Corruption Reason plunges us into, when it goes hand in hand with the Principles of Pagan Philosophy, and follows the foot∣steps of the Senses.

But that the Falshood of that wretched Phylosophy, and the Certainty of our Principles, and Distinctness of our Ideas may not be longer doubted; it will be necessary plainly to establish the Truths that contradict the Errours of the Ancient Philosophers, or to prove in few words, that there is but one true Cause, since there is but one true God; that the Nature and Force of every thing is nothing but the Will of God; that all Natural things are not real, but only occasional Causes; and some other Truths depending on them.

It is evident, that all Bodies, great and little, have no force to move themselves: a Mountain, a House, a Stone, a Grain of Sand, the minutest and bulkiest Bodies imaginable, are alike as to that. We have but two sorts of Ideas, viz. of Spirits and Bodies; and as we ought not to speak what we conceive not, so we must only argue from those two Ideas. Since therefore our Idea of Bodies, convinces us that they cannot move themselves, we must conclude that they are mo∣ved by Spirits. But considering our Idea of finite Spirits, we see no necessary Connexion betwixt their Will, and the Motion of any Body whatsoever; on the contrary, we perceive that there is not nor can be any. Whence we must infer, if we will follow Light and Reason, That as no Body can move it self, so no Created Spirit can be the true and principal Cause of its Motion.

But when we think on the Idea of God, or of a Being infinitely perfect, and consequently Almighty, we are aware that there is such a Connexion betwixt his Will and the Motion of all Bodies, that it is impossible to conceive he should will that a Body be moved, and it should not be moved. And therefore if we would speak according to our Conceptions, and not according to our Sensations, we must say that nothing but his Will can move Bodies. The moving force of Bodies is not then in themselves, this force being nothing but the Will of God: Bodies then have no proper Action, and when a moving Ball meets with another, and moves it, the former communicates nothing of its own to the latter, as not having in it self the Impression it com∣municates; though the former be the Natural Cause of the latter's Motion; and therefore a na∣tural Cause is not a true and real Cause, but only an occasional; which in such or such a Case de∣termines the Author of Nature to act in such or such a manner.

'Tis certain that all things are produced by the Motion of visible or invisible Bodies; for Ex∣perience teaches us, that those Bodies, whose parts are in greater Motion, are always the most active, and those that Cause the greatest Alterations in the World: so that all the Forces of Na∣ture are but the Will of God, who Created the World; because he will'd it, who spake and it was done * 1.45; who moves all things, and produces all the Effects we see, because he has established some Laws, by which Bodies Communicate their Motion to each other when they meet toge∣ther; and because those Laws are efficacious, they and not the Bodies act. There is then no Force, Power, nor true Cause in all the Material and sensible World: Nor need we admit any Forms, Faculties, or real Qualities to produce Effects, which the Bodies bring not forth, or to di∣vide with God his own Essential Force and Power.

As Bodies cannot be the true Causes of any thing; so likewise the most Noble Spirits are sub∣ject to the same impotency on that respect: They cannot know any thing, unless God enlightens them; nor have the Sensation of any thing, unless he modifies them; nor will, unless he moves them towards himself: They may indeed determine the Impression God has given them to him∣self, towards other Objects; but I doubt whether it can be call'd a Power. For if to be able to sin is a Power, it is such a one, as the Almighty wants, saith St. Austin somewhere. If Men had of themselves the Power of loving Good, it might be said that they have some Power; but they cannot so much as love, but because God Wills it, and that his Will is Efficacious. They love, because God continually drives them towards Good in general, that is, towards himself, for whom alone they are Created and preserved. God moves them, and not themselves, towards Good in general: and they only follow that Impression by a free Choice, according to the Law of God,

or determine it towards false and seeming Goods, according to the Law of the Flesh; But they cannot determine it but by the sight of Good. For being able to doe nothing without an Im∣pression from above, they are incapable of loving any thing but Good.

But though it should be supposed, which is true in one sense, that Spirits have in themselves the Power of knowing Truths, and loving Good; should their Thoughts and Will produce no∣thing outwardly, it might still be said, that they were impotent and unoperative. Now it seems undeniable, that the Will of Spirits is not able to move the smallest Body in the World; it being evident there is no necessary Connexion betwixt the Will we may have of moving our Arm, for instance, and the Motion of the same Arm. It moves indeed whenever we will it, and we may be call'd, in that sense, the natural cause of the Motion of our Arm; yet natural Causes are not true, but only occasional, as acting by the mere force and efficacy of the Will of God, as we have already explain'd.

For how is it possible for us to move our Arm? To perform this, 'tis requir'd we should have Animal Spirits, and send them through certain Nerves towards certain Muscles, to swell up and contract them, for so that Motion is perform'd, as some pretend, though others deny it, and as∣sert that the Mystery is not yet discover'd. However it be, most Men know not so much as that they have Spirits, Nerves and Muscles, and yet move their Arms with as much and more dexte∣rity than the most skilful Anatomists. Men therefore will the moving their Arm, but 'tis God that is able, and knows how to doe it. If a Man cannot overthrow a Tower, yet he knows what must be done to effect it: but not one amongst them knows what the Animal Spirits must doe to move one of his Fingers. How should they then move the whole Arm of themselves? These things appear very evident to me, and, I suppose, to all thinking Persons; though they may be incomprehensible to others, such as are only used to the confused voice of the Senses.

But Men are so far from being the true Causes of the Motions produc'd in their Body, that it seems to imply a Contradiction they should be so. For a true Cause is that betwixt which and its Effect, the Mind percieves a necessary connexion; for so I understand it. But there is none be∣sides the infinitely perfect Being, betwixt whose Will and the Effects the Mind can perceive a necessary Connexion; and therefore none but God is the true Cause, or has a real Power of mo∣ving Bodies. Nay, it seems unconceivable, that God should communicate this Power, either to Angels or Men: And those that pretend that the Power we have of moving our Arm is a true Power, must by Consequence grant that God can give Spirits the Power of creating, annihilating, and doing all possible things; in short, that he can make them Almighty, as I am going to pove.

God needs not Instruments to act, 'tis enough he should Will the Existence of a thing, in or∣der to its Existing; because it is contradictory that he should will a thing, and his Will should not be fulfilled. And therefore his Power is his Will, and to communicate his Power is to com∣municate his Will; so that to communicate his Will to a Man or an Angel, can signifie nothing else, but to will that whenever that Man or Angel shall desire that such or such a Body be moved, it may actually be moved. In which Case I see two Wills concurring together, that of God, and that of the Angel, and to know which of them is the true Cause of the Motion of that Body, I enquire which is the Efficacious. I see a necessary Connexion betwixt the Will of God, and the thing willed; in this Case God wills that whenever the Angel shall desire that such a Body be moved, it be really so. There is then a necessary Connexion betwixt the Will of God, and the Motion of that Body, and consequently God is the true Cause of that Motion, and the Will of the Angel is only occasional.

Again, to make it more evidently manifest, let us suppose God wills it should happen quite contrary to the Desire of some Spirits, as may be thought of the Devils, or some other wicked Spirits in Punishment of their Sins. In that Case it cannot be said God communicates his Power to them; since nothing happens of what they wish. However the Will of those Spirits shall be the natural Cause of the produced Effects: as such a Body shall be removed to the Right, be∣cause they wish it were moved to the Left; and the Desires of those Spirits shall determine the Will of God to act, as the Will of moving the Parts of our Body, determine the first Cause to move them; and therefore the Desires of all finite Spirits are but occasional Causes.

If, after all these Reasons, it be still asserted, that the Will of an Angel moving a Body is a true, and not a bare occasional Cause; 'tis evident, that the self-same Angel might be the true Cause of the Creation and Annihilation of all things, since God might as well communicate to him his Power of Creating, and annihilating Bodies, as that of moving them, if He should will that they should be created, and annihilated: in a word, if he will'd that all things should be per∣formed according to the Angel's Desires, as he wills that Bodies be moved as the Angel pleases; if therefore it may be said, that an Angel or Man are true Movers, because God moves Bodies as they desire; that Man or Angel might likewise be call'd true Creatours, since God might cre∣ate Beings on occasion of their Will: Nay, perhaps it might be said, that the vilest of Animals, or even mere Matter, is the real Cause of the Creation of some Substance; if it be supposed with some Philosophers, that God produces substantial Forms, whenever the Disposition of Matter re∣quires it. And lastly, since God has resolved from all Eternity, to create some certain things, at some certain times; those Times might also be called the Causes of the Creation of such Be∣ings; with as much right as 'tis pretended, that a Ball meeting with another is the true Cause of the Motion that is communicated to it; because God, by his general Will, that constitutes the Order of Nature, has decreed, that such or such Communication of Motions should follow up∣on the Concourse of two Bodies.

There is then but one true Cause, as there is one true God: Neither must we imagine, that what precedes an Effect does really produce it. God himself cannot communicate his Power to Crea∣tures according to the Light of Reason; He cannot make them true Causes, and change them in∣to Gods. But though he might doe it, we conceive not why he should will it. Bodies, Spirits, pure Intelligences, all can doe nothing. 'Tis he who has made Spirits, that enlightens and moves them; 'tis he who has created Heaven and Earth, that regulates all their Motions: In fine, 'tis the Authour of our Being that performs our Desires; Semel jussit, semper paret: He moves even our Arms, when we use them against his Orders; for he complains by his Prophets, That we make him subservient to our unjust and criminal Desires.

All those little Divinities of the Heathens, all those particular Causes of Philosophers, are Chi∣meras, which the wicked Spirit endeavours to set up, that he may destroy the Worship of the true God. The Philosophy we have received from Adam, teaches us no such things; but that which has been propagated by the Serpent; for, ever since the Fall, the Mind of Man is turned Heathen. That Philosophy, join'd to the Errours of the Senses, has made Men pay their Wor∣ship to the Sun, and is still the universal Cause of the Disorders of their Mind, and the Corrup∣tion of their Heart. Why, say they, by their Actions, and sometimes by their Words, should we not love Bodies, since they are able to afford us Pleasure? And why are the Israelites blam'd for lamenting the Loss of the Garlick and Onions of Egypt, since the Privation of those things, which enjoyed, afforded them some Happiness, made them in some sort unhappy? But the Philosophy that is mis-call'd New, and represented as a Bugbear to frighten weak Minds; that is despised and condemned without hearing: that New Philsosophy, I say, (since it must have that name,) destroys all the Pretences of the Libertines, by the establishing its very first Principle that per∣fectly agrees with the first Principle of the Christian Religion * 1.46, namely, That we must love and fear none but God, since none but He alone can make us happy.

As Religion declares that there is but one true God, so this Philosophy shews that there is but one true Cause. As Religion teaches that all the Heathen Divinities are but dead Metals, and immovable Stone; so this Philosophy discovers, that all the second Causes, or Divinities of the Philosophers, are but unactive Matter, and ineffective Wills. As Religion commands, not to bow to those Gods that are not Gods, so this Philosophy teaches, not to prostrate our Minds and Ima∣gination before the phantastick Grandeur and Power of pretended Causes, which are not Causes: which we ought neither to love, nor to fear, nor be taken up with; but think upon God alone, see and adore, love and fear him in all things.

But that's not the Inclination of some Philosophers; they will neither see God, nor think upon him; for ever since the Fall there is a secret Opposition betwixt God and Man. They delight in Gods of their own Invention; in loving and fearing the Contrivances of their Heart, as the Hea∣thens did the Works of their Hands. They are like those Children, who tremble at the sight of their Play-Fellows, after they have dawb'd and blacken'd them. Or, if they desire a more noble Comparison, though perhaps not so just, they resemble those famous Romans, who reverenced the Fictions of their Mind, and foolishly adored their Emperours, after they themselves had let loose the Eagle at their Canonization.

CHAP. IV.

An Explication of the Second Part of the General Rule: That the Philo∣sophers observe it not, but that Des Cartes has exactly followed it.

WE have been shewing to what Errours Men are liable, when they reason upon the false and confused Ideas of the Senses, and their rambling and undetermin'd Notions of Lo∣gick; whence it appears, that to keep to Evidence in our Perceptions, 'tis absolutely necessary exactly to observe that Rule we have prescrib'd; and to examine which are the clear and distinct Ideas of things, that we may only argue by deduction from them.

In that same general Rule, concerning the Subject of our Studies, there is yet a remarkable Circumstance; namely, That we must still begin with the most simple and easie things, and in∣sist long upon them, before we undertake the Enquiry after the more composed and difficult. For if, to preserve Evidence in all our Perceptions, we must only reason upon distinct Ideas, 'tis plain that we must never meddle with the Enquiry of compound things, before the simple, on which they depend, have been carefully examin'd, and made familiar to us by a nice Scrutiny; since the Ideas of compound things, neither are, nor can be clear, as long as the most simple, of which they are composed, are but confusedly and imperfectly known.

We know things imperfectly, when we are not sure to have considered all their Parts: and we know them confusedly, when they are not familiar enough to the Mind, though we may be cer∣tain of having consider'd all their Parts. When we know them but imperfectly, our Argumen∣tations are only probable: when we perceive them confusedly, there is neither Order not Light

in our Inferences; and often we know not where we are, or whither we are going: But when we know them both imperfectly and confusedly, which is the commonest of all, we know not so much as what we would look for, much less by what Means we are to find it: So that it is al∣together necessary to keep strictly to that Order in our Studies, Of still beginning by the most simple Things, examining all their Parts, and being well acquainted with them, before we meddle with the more composed, that depend on the former.

But that Rule agrees not with the Inclination of Man, who naturally despises whatever ap∣pears easie; his Mind being made for an unlimited Object, and almost incomprehensible, cannto make a long Stay on the Consideration of those simple Ideas, which want the Character of Infi∣nite, for which he is created. On the contrary, and for the same Reason, he has much Venera∣tion, and an eager Passion, for great, obscure, and mysterious Things, and such as participate of Infinity: Not that he loves Darkness; but that he hopes to find in those deep Recesses a Good, and Truth capable of satisfying his Desires.

Vanity likewise gives a great Commotion to the Spirits, stirring them to what is great and ex∣traordinary, and encouraging them with a foolish Hope of hitting right. Experience teaches, that the most accurate Knowledge of ordinary Things gives no great Name in the World; whereas to be acquainted with uncommon Things, though never so confusedly and imperfectly, always procures the Esteem and Reverence of those who willingly conceive a great Idea of what∣ever is out of their depth of Understanding: And that Experience determines all those who are more sensible to Vanity than to Truth, (which certainly make up the greatest Number) to a blind-fold Search of a specious, though chimerical, Knowledge of what is great, rare, and un∣intelligible.

How many are there that reject the Cartesian Philosophy, for that ridiculous Reason, That its Principles are too simple and easie: There are in this Philosophy no obscure and mysterious Terms; Women, and Persons unskill'd in Greek and Latin, are capable of learning it. It must then be, say they, something very inconsiderable, and unworthy the Application of great Genius's. They imagine, that Principles so clear and simple are not fruitful enough to explain the Effects of Nature, which they supposed to be dark, intricate, and confused: They see not presently the Use of those Principles, that are too simple and easie to stop their Attention long enough to make them understand their Use and Extent. They rather chuse to explain Effects whose Causes are unknown to them, by unconceivable Principles, than by such as are both simple and intelligible. For the Principles these Philosophers are wont to explain obscure Things by, are not only obscure themselves, but utterly incomprehensible.

Those that pretend to explain Things extremely intricate, by Principles clear and generally re∣ceiv'd, may easily be refuted, if they succeed not; since to know whether what they say be true, one needs only comprehend well what they say. The falsely-learn'd are not pleased with this, and obtain not the Admiration they pursue in using intelligible Principles; for, as soon as one un∣derstands their Notions, he plainly perceives that they say nothing: But when they make use of unknown Principles, and speak of very complex'd Things as though they exactly knew all their Relations, they are admired by their Hearers, who understand not what they say; because we are naturally inclin'd to reverence whatever goes above the reach of our Understanding.

Now, as obscure and incomprehensible Things seem to hang better with each other, than with such as are clear and intelligible; so incomprehensible Principles are much more made use of in very difficult and abstruse Questions, than such as are easie and intelligible. There is nothing so difficult, but, by the means of these Principles, Philosophers and Physicians will solve it in few Words; for their Principles being yet more incomprehensible than any Questions that can be pro∣posed them, those Principles being taken for granted, no Difficulty can afterwards put them to a Nonplus.

Thus, for instance, they boldly, and without boggling, make answer to these dark and unde∣termin'd Questions, viz. Why the Sun attracts Vapours? Why the Peruvian Bark stops the Quar∣••an Ague? Why Rhubarb purges Choler, and the Polychrest-Salt Phlegm? and the like. Most Men seem pretty well satisfied with their Answers, because obscure and incomprehensible Things shake Hands together: But unintelligible Principles suit not Questions that may be clearly and easily resolv'd, because by that Solution it plainly appears, that they are altogether insignificant. The Philosophers cannot explain, by their Principles, How Horses draw a Coach? Why Dust stops a Watch? How the Trepoly-Stone cleanses Metals, and a Brush our Clothes? For, they would appear ridiculous to all the World, should they suppose a Motion of Attraction, and At∣tractive Faculties, to explain why the Coach follows the Horses; and a Detersive Faculty in the Brush, for cleansing of Clothes, &c. So that their great Principles are only serviceable in dark and intricate Questions, by reason of their Incomprehensibility.

We ought not therefore to insist upon any Principle that appears not plain and evident, and of which it may be supposed, that some Nations reject it: But we must attentively consider the Ideas we have of Extension, Figure, and Local Motion, and the Relations they have between them: If we conceive them distinctly, and find them so plain and clear, as to be persuaded they were ever generally received by all Nations, we must dwell upon them, and examine all their Relati∣ons: But if they seem obscure and dark to us, we must endeavour to find others. For, if to avoid the Fear of Mistakes and Errours, it is always requisite to preserve Evidence in our Percep∣••ions, it follows, that we must argue only from clear Ideas, and from Relations distinctly known.

To consider in order the Properties of Extension, we must, as Des Cartes did, begin with the most simple Relations, and thence proceed to the more composed; not only because this Method is the most natural, and bears up the Mind in its Operations; but also because God ever acting with Order, and by the most simple Ways, that sort of Examination of our Ideas, and their Re∣lations, will better manifest to us his Works. And if we consider, that the most simple Relati∣ons always offer themselves first to the Imagination, when 'tis not determin'd to think rather on one Thing than another, it will appear, that to find out that Order we prescribe, and to discover very composed Truths, it is sufficient to look attentively, and without prejudice, upon Objects; provided always we skip not too hastily from one Subject to another.

When we look attentively upon Matter, we easily conceive that one Part may be separated from another; that is to say, we easily conceive a Local Motion, which Motion produces a Figure in each of the Bodies moved. The most simple of all Motions, which first occurs to the Imagina∣tion, is a Motion in a Right Line. Supposing then, that some Part of Matter is moved in a Right Line, it will necessarily displace some other Portion of Matter it shall find in its way, which latter shall circularly move to take the Room which the former has left: Hence comes a Circular Motion. And if we conceive infinite Motions in a Right Line, in an infinite number of similar Parts of that immense Extension we consider, it will again necessarily follow, that all these Bodies mutually hindring each other, shall all conspire by their reciprocal Action and Re-action, that is, by the mutual Communication of all their particular Motions, to produce one that is Circular.

That first Consideration of the most simple Relations of our Ideas, already discovers to us the necessity of the Vortexes of Des Cartes, that their Number will be so much greater, as the Mo∣tions in a Right Line of all the Parts of the Extension, having been more contrary to each other, shall with more difficulty have been reduc'd to the same Motion; and that amongst those Vor∣texes, the greatest will be those in which most Parts shall have concurr'd together to the same Motion, or whose Parts shall have had more Strength to continue their Motion in a Right Line.

In the mean while, care must be taken not to dissipate nor weary our Mind, by vainly apply∣ing it to the vast Number and unmeasurable Greatness of those Vortexes: We must rather insist upon some one of them for some time, and orderly and attentively enquire after all the Moti∣ons of the Matter it contains, and all the Figures wherewith the Parts of that Matter may be endued.

As there is no simple Motion but that in a Right Line, we must first consider it, as that in which all Bodies cotinually tend to move themselves; since God always acts by the most simple Ways: And if Bodies move Circularly, 'tis only because meeting with constant Oppositions, they are perpetually turn'd from their direct Motion. So that all Bodies being not of an equal Bulk, and the biggest having more Strength than others to continue their Motion in a Right Line, we easily conceive, that the smallest Bodies must sink to the Centre of the Vortex, and the big∣gest rise towards the Circumference; since the Lines which moving Bodies are suppos'd to de∣scribe at the Circumference of a Circle, are nearer to a Right Line, than those which they de∣scribe towards the Centre.

If we conceive again, that every Part of that Matter could not at first move, and meet with a perpetual Opposition to its Motion, without being smooth'd and rounded, and having its Angles broken off; we shall discover, that all that Extension will be compos'd of two sorts of Bodies, viz. of round Globules, which perpetually turn upon their own Centre, and that in several diffe∣rent Ways, and, besides that particular Motion, are carried about by the Motion common to all the Vortex; and of a very fluid and agitated Matter, produced from the Motion of the fore∣said Globules. Besides the Circular Motion common to all the Parts of the Vortex, that subtle Matter must yet have another particular, and almost direct, from the Circle of the Vortex to the Circumference, through the Intervals of the Globules, that leave a Passage open: So that the Motion composed of those Motions will represent a Spiral Line. That fluid Matter, call'd by Des Cartes, the first Element, being divided into Parts that are much smaller, and have not so much strength to continue their direct Motion, as the Globules, or second Element; 'tis evident, that the first Element must take up the Centre of the Vortex, and fill the empty Spaces which the Parts of the Second leave between them; and that the rest of the Vortex must be filled with those Parts of the Second, and come nearer to the Circumference, proportionably to their Bulk, or to the Force they have of continuing their Motion in a Direct Line. As to the Figure of the whole Vortex, after what has been said, it cannot be doubted, but that the Distance from one Pole to the other, will be shorter than that of the Line which cuts the Equator. And if we consider that the Vortexes surround and compress each other unequally, we shall plainly see that their Equator * 1.47 is a crooked irregular Line, that comes near to an Ellipsis.

These are the Things that offer themselves naturally to the Mind, when we attentively con∣sider what should happen to the Parts of Extension, perpetually tending to move in a Right Line, that is, in the most simple Motion. If we now suppose a Thing which seems most worthy the Divine Power and Wisdom, namely, That God has formed the whose Universe at once, in the same State those Parts would have naturally fallen into and disposed themselves in time, by the most simple Ways; and that he preserves them by the same natural Laws: In a word, if we compare our Ideas with the visible Objects, we shall conclude, that the Sun is the Centre of

the Vortex; that the Corporeal Light, which it diffuses every where, is nothing but the continual Effort of the little Globules, tending to remove from the Centre of the Vortex; which Light must be communicated in an Instant through those vast Spaces, because they being full of those Globules, one cannot be press'd upon, without the Motion of all the others that are opposite to it.

Several other Consequences may be drawn from what has been said, because the most simple Principles are the most fruitful to explain the Works of a Being which always acts by the most simple Ways. But we still want to consider some Things that will be incident to Matter. Let us then imagine, that there are several Vortexes, like to that we have described in few Words; that the Stars, which are so many Suns, are the Centres of those Vortexes, which surround each other, and are disposed in such a manner, as that they hinder one anothers Motion the least they can; but that before Things came to that Perfection, the weakest Vortexes were carried away, and as it were swallowed up by the strongest.

To understand this, we need but suppose that the first Element, which is at the Centre, may fly, and perpetually flies out through the Intervals of the Globules, towards the Circumference of the Vortex; and that at the same time that this Centre or Star empties it self through the Equator, other Matter of the first Element comes into it through the Poles; for neither the Star nor its Poles can empty themselves at one side, without being fill'd at another, since there is no Vacuity in Extension. But as an infinite number of Causes may hinder a great Quantity of the first Ele∣ment from coming into that Star, the Parts of the first Element that shall be forced to remain in it, will be necessitated to adapt themselves so, as to move one and the same way; which causes them to fasten and link themselves together, and constitutes them into Spots; which condensing and thickning into Crusts, cover by degrees the Centre; and out of the most subtil and agitated of all Bodies, are form'd into gross and solid Matter. This course sort of Matter is called by Des Cartes, the third Element, and is endued with an infinite number of Shapes and Figures, as is the first Element, from which it is generated and produced.

That Star being thus over-grown with Spots and Crusts, and become like the other Planets, has no longer a sufficient Strength to defend its Vortex against the continual Struggle and Irrupti∣ons of those that surround it; therefore it insensibly diminishes: The Matter that composes it, is dispersed on all sides, and the strongest of the neighbouring Vortexes carries the greatest part away, and at last involves the Planet that is the Centre of it. This Planet being wholly sur∣rounded with the Matter of the great Vortex, swims along in it, only keeping, together with some of the Matter of its own Vortex, its former Circular Motion, and takes at last such a Si∣tuation, as puts it in Aequilibrio with an equal Quantity of the Matter in which it swims. If it has but little Solidity and Magnitude, it descends very near the Centre of the surrounding Vor∣tex; because having no great Force to continue its Motion in a Right Line, it must take such a Place in that Vortex, as that an equal Quantity of the second Element, endeavouring to remove from the Centre, may be in Aequilibrio with it; that being the only Place where it can be ex∣actly balanc'd. If that Planet be of greater Bulk and Solidity, it must seek its Aequilibrium in a Place more distant from the Centre of the Vortex. And lastly, If there is no Place in the Vor∣tex, in which an equal Quantity of its Matter hath as much Solidity as this Planet, and conse∣quently as much Strength to continue its Motion in a Direct Line, perhaps because the Planet shall be very bulky, and over-grown with very solid and condens'd Crusts; it shall not stop in that Vortex, as finding no Aequilibrium in the Matter that composes it; but pass from Vortex to Vortex, until it meets with a Place in which it may be equally balanced by a competent Quan∣tity of Matter; so that it will sometimes be seen in its Passage, as the Comets are, when it shall be in our Vortex, and at a convenient Distance from us: But it will not be seen in a long time, when it shall be in other Vortexes, or in the utmost Boundary of ours.

If we hereupon conclude, that a single Vortex may, by reason of its Bulk, Strength, and ad∣vantageous Situation, insensibly undermine, involve, and carry away several Vortexes, and even such as shall have conquer'd others; it will necessarily follow, that the Planets that have been form'd in the Centre of the conquer'd Vortexes, being entered into the great and conquering Vor∣tex, place themselves in Aequilibrio with an equal Volume of the Matter in which they swim: So that if those Planets are unequal in Solidity, they will float at unequal Distances from the Centre of the Vortex in which they swim. But if two Planets have very near the same Force to continue that Direct Motion; or if a Planet carries in its small Vortex one or several other smaller Planets, which it shall have conquer'd, according to our Way of conceiving the Forma∣tion of Things: Then the smallest Planets will turn about the greatest, whilst the greatest shall turn upon its own Centre; and all these Planets shall be carried by the Motion of the great Vor∣tex, at a Distance very near equal from its Centre.

We are obliged, by the Light of Reason, to dispose in that Order the Parts that compose the whole Universe, which we imagine to have been formed by the most simple Ways. For all that had been said is only grounded on the Idea of Extension, the Parts of which are supposed to move in the most simple Motion, which is that in a Right Line. And when we examine by the Effects, whether we are mistaken in the Explication of Things by their Causes, we are surprized to see the Phenomaena of Celestial Bodies so perfectly agreeing with our Ratiocinations. For we perceive all the Planets that are in the middle of a small Vortex turning upon their own Centre, as the Sun does, and swimming in the Vortex of the Sun, and about the Sun; the smallest and least solid nearest to it, and the most solid at a greater distance. We likewise observe, that there are some, as the Comets, which cannot remain in the Vortex of the Sun: And lastly, that there

are several Planets, which have other smaller turning about them, as the Moon does about the Faith: Jupiter has four of them, Mars has three, and perhaps Saturn has so many, and so small, that they resemble a continued Circle, of which the thickness cannot be perceived, because of their too vast distance. Those Planets being the biggest we can observe, it may be imagin'd, that they have been produced from Vortexes which had a sufficient strength to conque•• others, before they were involved in the Vortex we live in.

All these Planets turn upon their own Centre, the Earth within 24. hours, Mars within 25. or thereabouts, Jupiter within about 10, &c. They all turn about the Sun, Mercury the nearest in about 4. Months; Saturn the remotest in about 30. Years, and those that are betwixt them in more or less time, which however keep not an exact proportion with their distance. For the mat∣ter in which they swim makes a swifter Circumvolution when 'tis nearer to the Sun, because the Line of its Motion is then shorter. When Mars is opposite to the Sun, he is then near enough to the Earth, but is at a vast distance from it when he is in Conjunction with him. The like may be said of the other superiour Planets, as Saturn and Jupiter; for the inferiour, as Venus and Mercury are, to speak properly, never opposite to the Sun. The Lines, which all the Planets seem to describe about the Earth, are no Circles, but are very like Ellipses, which Ellipses seem very much to differ, because of the different Situation of the Planets in reference to us. In short, whatever may be observed with any certainty in the Heavens, touching the Motion of the Planets perfectly agrees with what has been said of their Formation by the most simple ways.

As to the fixed Stars, Experience teaches us, that some diminish and entirely vanish away, whilst others that are wholly new appear; the lustre and bulk of which sensibly increase. They increase or diminish proportionably as the Vortexes, in whose Centre they lye, admit more or less of the first Element. We cease to see them when they are overspread with Spots and Crusts, and begin to discover them, when those Spots, which obstruct their lustre, are entirely dissipated. All these Stars keep very near the same distance from each other, since they are Centres of Vor∣texes which are not conquer'd, and remain Stars as long as they can resist the Invasion of others. They are all bright like as many little Suns, because they are all, as he is, the Centers of uncon∣quer'd Vortexes. They are all at an unequal distance from the Earth, though they appear as if they were fastned to a Vault; for if the Parallaxe of the nearest with the remotest has not yet been observable, by the different situation of the Earth from 6 to 6 Months; it is because that difference is too inconsiderable in reference to our distance from the Stars, to make that Parallaxe sensible. Perhaps by means of the Telescopes, it will one day or other become somewhat obser∣vable. In short, whatever the Senses and Experience may observe in the Stars, differs not from what we have discover'd by the Mind, whilst we examin'd the most simple and natural Relations that are betwixt the Parts and the Motions of Extension.

To search after the Nature of Terrestrial Bodies; we must conceive that the first Element be∣ing made up of an infinite number of different Figures, the Bodies that result from their Mixture must be very different. So that there will be some whose Parts shall be branched, others long, others very near round, but all irregular, several ways. When their Parts are branched and gross, they are hard, but flexible, and not elastick, as Gold: If their Parts be not so gross, they are soft, and fluid, as Gums, Fats, Oyles; but if their branched Parts be extremely fine, they are like the Air. If the long Parts of Bodies are gross and inflexible, they are pungent, incorruptible, and dis∣solvible, as Salts; if those long Parts be flexible, they are insipid like Water; if the gross Parts be of very irregular and different Figures, they are like Earth and Stones. In short, thence must needs arise Bodies of several different Natures, and two will hardly be found exactly alike, by rea∣son of the infinite number of Figures incident to the first Element, which can never be complicated after the same manner in two different Bodies. What Figure soever those Bodies may have, if their Pores be large enough to give way to the second Element's passing all manner of ways, they will be transparent like Air, Water, Glass, &c. If the first Element entirely surrounds some of their Parts and affords them a sufficient force and commotion to repel the second Element on all sides, they will appear Luminous like flame; if they drive back all the second Element that falls upon them, they will be very white; if they receive it without repelling it, they will be very black; and last∣ly, if they repel it by several Concussions and Vibrations, they will appear of different colours.

As to their Situation, the heaviest, or those that have least force to continue their direct Motion, will be the nearest to the Centre, as are Metals: Earth, Water and Air, will be more remote, and all Bodies will keep the same Situation in which we observe them; because they will recede from the Centre of the Earth, as far as their Motion will allow.

It must not seem strange that I now say, that Metals have less force to continue their direct Motion, than Earth, Water, and other less solid Bodies, though I have formerly said, that the most solid Bodies have more strengh than others to continue their direct Motion. For the Rea∣son why Metals are not so apt to continue to move, as Earth and Stones, is that Metals have less Motion in themselves; it being true however, that of two Bodies unequal in solidity, but mo∣ved with an equal swiftness, that the most solid will have more force to pursue its Motion in a right Line; because the most solid has then the greater Motion, and that Motion is the Cause of strength.

But if we would understand the Reason why Bodies, gross and solid, are heavy towards the Center of Vortexes, but light at a considerable distance from it; we must know, that these Bodies receive their Motion from the subtle matter that invirons them, and in which they swim. Now that subtle matter actually moving in a Circular Line, and only tending to move in a right Line;

it only Communicates that Circular Motion to the gross Bodies it carries along with it: and as to its tendency to remove from the Centre in a Right Line, it only communicates that to them as far as it is a necessary sequel of the Circular communicated Motion. For it must be observed, that the Parts of the subtle matter tending to different sides, can only compress the gross Body they convey; since that Body cannot go several different ways at the same time. But because the subtle Matter, that lies about the Centre of the Vortex, has a far greater Motion than that which it spends in circulating, and because it communicates only its Motion Circular, and common to all its Parts, to the gross Bodies which it carries; and that if these Bodies should chance to have more Motion than what is common to the Vortex, they would soon lose that overplus, by communica∣ting it to the little Bodies they meet with; thence 'tis evident, that gross Bodies, towards the Centre of the Vortex, have not so much Motion as the Matter in which they swim; each part of which has its own particular and various Motion, besides the Cicular and common. Now if gross Bo∣dies have less Motion, they have less Tendency to move in a right Line, and if they have less Ten∣dency, they are forc'd to yield to those that have more, and consequently to approach the Centre of the Vortex, that is, in short they must be heavyer, as they are more gross and solid.

But when solid Bodies are very remote from the Centre of the Vortex, as the Circular Mo∣tion of the subtle Matter is then very great, because it spends very near its whole Motion in wheeling about; Bodies have then so much more Motion as they have more Solidity; because they go as swift as the subtle Matter in which they swim: and so they have more force to con∣tinue their direct Motion. Wherefore gross Bodies at a certaine distance from the Centre of the Vortex, are so much lighter as they are more solid.

This makes it apparent, that the Earth is metallick towards the Centre, and not so solid a∣bout the Circumference; that Water and Air must remain in the Situation wherein we see them; but that all those Bodies are * 1.48 ponderous; the Air as well as Gold and Quick-silver; because they are more solid and gross than the first and second Element. This shews likewise that the Moon is at too great a distance from the Centre of the Vortex of the Earth to be heavy, though it be solid; that Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, cannot fall into the Sun, and that they are not solid enough to travel out of this Vortex, as the Comets do; that they are in Aequilibrio with the Matter in which they swim, and that if a Musket Ball, or a Cannon Bullet, could be shot high enough, those two Bodies would become little Planets, or perhaps Comets, that would not stay in any Vortex, as being endued with a competent Solidity.

I pretend not to have sufficiently explain'd all the things I have mention'd, or to have de∣duced from the simple Principles of Extension, Figure and Motion all the possible Inferences, I only intended to shew the Method Des Cartes has used in the discovery of Natural things, that this Method and his Ideas may be compared with those of other Philosophers; I design'd here no more, and yet I may venture to assert, that if one would supersede admiring the Virtue of the Loadstone, the regular Motion of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, the noise of Thunder, the Generation of Meteors; in short, if any desire to get a well-grounded Knowledge of Natu∣ral Philosophy, as he can doe nothing better than to read and medi••ate his Books; so he can doe nothing at all, unless he follows his Method, I mean unless he Reason as he did, upon clear I∣deas, still beginning with the most simple and familiar.

Neither do I pretend that this Author is Infallible; for I think I can demonstrate that he has been mistaken in several places of his works. But 'tis more advantageous for his Readers to be∣lieve that he hath been deceived, than if they were persuaded that whatever he said was true: A Man that should take him to be infalible would read him without Examination, believe him without understanding what he says, learn his Opinions as we learn History, and would never form and perfect his Mind. He himself advertises his Readers to observe whether he be deceived, and to believe nothing of what he says, but what the Evidence compells them to. For he is not like those false pretenders to Science, who endeavouring to Lord it over the Minds, will be believed upon their own word; and who instead of making Men the Disciples of the inward Truth, by proposing only clear and distinct Ideas, labour what they can to submit them to the Authority of Heathens, and press upon Men incomprehensible Opinions by unintelligible Reasons.

The chief thing that is found fault with in Des Cartes's System, is the manner in which he feigns that the Sun, Stars, Earth, and all the Bodies that surround us, have been produced; for∣asmuch as it seems contrary to what Holy Writ teaches us of the Creation of the World; since, according to him, one would say, that the whole Universe has been formed of its own accord, so as we see it now a-days; to which several Answers may be made.

First, As to the pretended Contrarieties betwixt Moses and Des Cartes, those that assert it, have not perhaps examin'd them both, with as much Attention as those who have shewn, by pub∣lick Writings, that the sacred History of the Creation perfectly agrees with the opinion of that Philosopher.

But the chief Answer is, that Des Cartes never pretended that things should ever have been made by degrees, and as he describes them. For at the first Article of the Fourth Part of his Philosophical Principles, which runs thus: That the former Hypothesis is to be retain'd, notwith∣standing its being false, to find out the true Causes of natural Things; he expresly asserts the con∣trary in these words. Though I pretend not that the Bodies of this visible World were ever produ∣ced in the manner that has been described before, of which the Reader has been already sufficiently fore∣warn'd; yet I must still keep to the same Hypothesis, to explain what appears upon Earth; For if I may, as I hope I can, plainly shew by those means the most intelligible and certain Causes of all Na∣tural

things, and they cannot be found out another way; I may thence reasonably conclude, that though the World was not at the Beginning fram'd in this manner, but created immediately by God, yet the Nature of all things it contains ceases not to be the very same, as though they had been produced in that very method.

Des Cartes knew that to understand the Nature of things, they must be consider'd in their Birth and Original, and that beginning with those that are most simple, we ought to drive them up to the Fountain head, and that the business is not to examine, whether God working by the most simple ways, formed the World by degrees, or struck it out at a single Blow; but that, in what manner soever God may have produced his Works, they ought to be first consider'd in their Principles, if we would understand them, and afterwards we should observe, how consistent our thoughts are with the Operations of God, by comparing them together. He knew that the Laws of Nature, by which God preserves all his Works in their present Order and Situation are the same Laws, with those by which he might have formed and disposed them; It being evident to all considering Men, that if God had not disposed his Works in an instant, in the same manner they would have order'd and postur'd themselves in time; the whole Oeconomy of Nature would be destroy'd, since the Laws of Preservation would be contrary to those of the first Creation. If the whole Universe remains in the Order in which we see it, 'tis because the Laws of Motion which preserve it in that Order, were capable of producing it in it; and if God had established it in an Order different from that into which those Laws of Motion should have put it, all things would be turned upside down, and place themselves by the force of those Laws, in the Order which they at present keep.

A Man desires to discover the Nature of a Chicken, to that end he opens every day Eggs taken from under a Brood-Hen; he examines what part moves and grows first, he quickly perceives that the Heart begins to beat, and to drive out Blood through small Conduits on all sides, that are the Arteries; which Blood comes back to the Heart through the Veins, that the Brain like∣wise appears at first, and that the Bones are the last formed. By that he frees himself from ma∣ny Errours, and even draws from those Observations several Consequences very useful for the Knowledge of living Creatures. What fault may be found with the conduct of such a Man, and how may it be given out, that he pretends to persuade, that God formed the first Chicken, by creating an Egg, and giving it a competent degree of heat to hatch it? because he tries to disco∣ver the Nature of Chickens in their first Formation?

Why then should Des Cartes be accused of being opposite to the Holy Scriptures, for that de∣signing to discover the Nature of visible things, he examines the formation of them by the Laws of Motion, which are inviolably observ'd on all occasions. He never * 1.49 doubted but that the World was created at first with all its perfection; that there were Sun, Earth, Moon and Stars; that in the Earth there were not only the Seeds of Plants, but also the Plants themselves; and that Adam and Eve were not born Infants, but made adult. The Christian Faith teaches us that, and natural Reason persuades us the same; for when we consider the infinite Power of God, we can∣not think he should ever have made any thing which was not altogether perfect. But as we should better understand the nature of Adam and Eve, and the Trees of Paradise, by examining how Children are insensibly form'd in their Mothers Womb, and how Plants are deriv'd from their Seeds, than by merely considering how they were when Created by God at the Creation of the World; so if we can find out Principles very simple and easie, out of which, as out of some Seeds, we can ma∣nifestly shew the Stars, the Earth, and all visible things might have been produced; though we ve∣ry well know that it was never so, (yet) that will be more conducible to explain their Nature, than if we should only describe them so as they now are, or as we believe they were Created, and be∣cause I suppose I have found out such Principles, I shall indeavour briefly to Explain them.

Des Cartes was persuaded that God formed the World all at once; but he also believed that God Created it in the same State and Order, and with the same Disposition of Parts, in which it would have been, had it been made gradually, and by the most simple ways. And that thought is worthy both of the Power and Wisdom of God; of his Power, because he has made in a Mo∣ment all his Works in the highest Perfection; and of his Wisdom, because he has shewn that he perfectly foresaw whatever could befall Matter, if it were moved by the most simple ways: and likewise because the Order of Nature could not subsist, if the World had been produced by ways, that is, by Laws of Motion, contrary to the Laws by which it is preserv'd, as I have alrea∣dy mention'd.

'Tis ridiculous to say, that Des Cartes believed the World might have been formed of it self, since he owns with all those that follow the light of Reason, that Bodies cannot move them∣selves by their own strength; and that all the immutable Laws of the Communication of Moti∣ons are but consequences of the immutable Will of God, who always acts in the same manner. His proving that God alone gives Motion to Matter, and that Motion produces in Bodies all their different Forms, was sufficient to hinder the Libertines from making an Advantage of his System. On the contrary, if Atheists should reflect on the Principles of this Philosopher, they would quickly be forced to confess their Errours; for if they can assert, with the Heathens, that Matter is uncreated, they cannot also maintain that it can move it self by its own Power: So that Atheists would at least be obliged to acknowledge the true Mover, if they refused to con∣fess the true Creatour. But the Ordinary Philosophy affords 'em sufficient pretences to blind themselves, and defend their Errours; for it speaks of some impress'd Virtues, certain motive Faculties, in a word, of a certain Nature which is the Principle of Motion in every thing;

And though they have no distinct Idea of it, yet by reason of the Corruption of their Heart, they willingly put it in the room of the true God, imagining that it performs all the Wonders that they see occur.

CHAP. V.

An Explication of the Principles of the Peripatetick Philosophy, in which is shewn, that Aristotle never observed the Second Part of the General Rule; and his Four Elements, with the Elementary Qualities, are examined.

THat the Reader may compare the Philosophy of Des Cartes with that of Aristotle, it will be convenient to set down in few words what the latter has taught concerning Elements and Natural Bodies in general; which the most learned believe he has done in his Four Books Of the Heavens. For his Eight Books of Physicks belong rather to Logick, or perhaps to Metaphysicks, than to Natural Philosophy; since they consist of Nothing but loose and general terms, that of∣fer no distinct and particular Idea to the Mind. Those Four Books are entituled Of the Heavens, because the Heavens are the chief amongst the simple Bodies which he treats of.

That Philosopher begins his Work by proving that the World is perfect, in the following man∣ner. All Bodies have three Dimensions and cannot have more, because the number three compre∣hends all, according to the Pythagoreans. But the World is the Coacervation of all Bodies, and therefore the World is perfect. By that ridiculous Proof, it may also be demonstrated, that the World cannot be more imperfect than it is, since it cannot be composed of parts that have less than three Dimensions.

In the Second Chapter, he first supposes some Peripatetick Truths, as that all Natural Bodies have of themselves the force of moving, which he proves neither here nor elsewhere; but on the contrary asserts, in the First Chapter of his Second Book of Physicks, that to endeavour to prove it is absurd, because 'tis evident of it self, and that none but those who cannot distinguish what is known of it self from what is not, insist upon proving plain by obscure things. But it has been shewn elsewhere, that it is altogether false that natural Bodies should have of themselves the force of moving, and it appears evident only to such as follow, with Aristotle, the Impressions of their Senses, and make no use of their Reason.

Secondly, He says that all local Motion is made in a Line, either direct or circular, or com∣posed of both; but if he would not think upon what he so rashly proposes, he ought at least to have open'd his Eyes that he might see an Infinite number of different Motions, which are not made of either the right or circular: Or rather he ought to have thought that the Motions composed of the direct may be infinitely varied, when the compounding Motions increase or di∣minish their swiftness in an infinite number of different ways, as may be observed by what has been said before * 1.50. There are, says he, but two simple Motions, the right and the Circular, and therefore all the others are composed of them. But he mistakes, for the Circular Motion is not simple, since it cannot be conceived, without thinking upon a Point to which it relates, and what∣ever includes a Relation is relative and not simple. This is so true that the Circular Motion may be conceived as produced from two Motions in a right Line, whose Swiftness is unequal, ac∣cording to a certain Proportion. But a Motion composed of two others, made in a right Line, and variously increasing or diminishing in swiftness, cannot be simple.

Thirdly, He says that all the simple Motions are of three sorts, one from the Centre, the other towards the Centre, and the third about it. But 'tis false that the last, viz. the Circular Moti∣on should be simple, as has been already said. And 'tis false again that there are no simple Mo∣tions besides upwards and downwards. For all the Motions in a right Line are simple, whether they approach to, or remove from the Centre, the Poles, or any other Point. Every Body, says he, is made up of three Dimensions, and therefore the Motion of all Bodies must have three sim∣ple Motions. What Relation is there betwixt simple Motions and Dimensions? Besides, every Body has three Dimensions, and none has three simple Motions.

Fourthly, He supposes that Bodies are either simple or composed, and calls simple Bodies, those that have the force of moving themselves, as Fire, Earth, &c. adding, that the compounded re∣ceive their Motion from the compounding. But in that sense there are no simple Bodies, since none have in themselves any Principle of their Motion: there are also none composed, since there are no simples of which they should be made; and so there would be no Bodies at all. What Fancy is it, to define the simplicity of Bodies by a Power of moving themselves. What distinct Ideas can be fixed to the Words of simple and composed Bodies, if the simple are only defined in Relation to an Imaginary moving force? But let us see what Consequences he draws from those Principles. The Circular Motion is simple. The Heavens move Circularly, and there∣fore their Motion is simple: But simple Motion can be ascribed only to a simple Body, that is to say, to a Body that moves of it self; And therefore the Heavens are a simple Body distinguished from the four Elements, that move in right Lines. 'Tis plain enough that such Arguments con∣tain nothing but false and absurd Propositions. Let us examine his other Proofs, for he alleadges a great many shameful and nonsensical ones, to prove a thing as useless as it is false.

His second Reason to shew that the Heavens are a simple Body distinguished from the Four E∣lements, supposes that there are two sorts of Motion, one natural, and the other violent or against Nature. But 'tis sufficiently plain to all those that judge of things by clear and distinct Ideas, that Bodies having not in themselves any such Principle of their Motion as Aristotle pretends, there can be no Motion violent or against Nature. 'Tis indifferent to all Bodies to be moved or not, either one way or another. But this Philosopher, who judges of things by the Impressions of the Senses, imagines that those Bodies, which by the Laws of the Communications of Mo∣tions, always place themselves in such or such a Situation, in reference to others, doe it of their own accord, and because it is most convenient for them, and best agrees with their Nature. Here follows the Argument of Aristotle.

The Circular Motion of the Heavens is natural, or against Nature. If natural, the Heavens are a simple Body distinguished from the Elements, since the Elements never move circularly by a natural Motion. If the Circular Motion of the Heavens is against their Nature, they will be some one of the Elements, as Fire, Water, &c. or something else. But the Heavens can be none of the Elements: as for instance, if the Heavens were Fire, that Element tending naturally upwards, the Heavens would have two contrary Motions, viz. the circular and the ascending, which is im∣possible. If the Heavens be some other Body, which moves not circularly by its own Nature, they will have some other natural Motion, which cannot likewise be; for if that Motion be as∣cending, they will be Fire or Air; and if descending, Water or Earth: Therefore, &c. I shall not insist upon shewing the particular Absurdities of those Reasonings, but only observe in ge∣neral, that all that which this Philosopher here says, has no signification, and that there is nei∣ther Truth nor Inference well drawn. His third Reason is as follows.

The first and most perfect of all simple Motions must be that of a simple Body, and of the first and most perfect among simple Bodies. But the circular Motion is the first and most perfect amongst simple Motions, because every circular Line is perfect, and that no right Line is so. For if it be finite, something may be added to it; if infinite, it is not yet perfect, since it has no end * 1.51, and that things are not perfect but when they are finished; and therefore the circular Motion is the first and most perfect of all, and a Body moving circularly is simple, and the first and most Divine amongst simple Bodies. Here you have his fourth Reason.

Every Motion is either natural, or not; but every Motion which is not natural to some Bo∣dies, is natural to some others: For, we see that the ascending and descending Motions, which are not natural to some Bodies, are so to others; for Fire naturally descends not, but Earth does. Now the Circular Motion is not natural to any of the Four Elements; there must then be a sim∣ple Body to which that Motion is natural; and therefore the Heavens, which move Circularly, are a simple Body, distinguished from the Four Elements.

Lastly, The Circular Motion is either natural or violent to some Body or other: If it be na∣tural, 'tis evident that Body must be one of the most simple and perfect: But if it be against Nature, 'tis strange how that Motion endures for ever; since we see that all Motions against Nature are of a short continuance. And therefore we must believe, after all those Reasons, that there is some Body separated from all those that environ us, whose Nature is the more perfect, as it lies at a greater distance. Thus argues Aristotle; but I defie the best and most intelligent of his Interpreters to fix distinct Ideas to his Words, and to shew that this Philosopher begins with the most simple Things, before he speaks of the more composed; which is however altoge∣ther necessary to exact Reasonings, as I have already proved.

If I were not afraid of being tedious, I would be at the pains to translate some Chapters of Aristotle: But besides that none who can understand him, care to read him in English, or in any other vulgar Tongue, I have sufficiently shewn, by what I have related from him, that his Way of Philosophizing is wholly unserviceable to the Discovery of Truth: For, he says himself, in the Fifth Chapter of this Book, That those that mistake at first in any thing, mistake ten thou∣sand times more, if they proceed: So that it being apparent, that he knows not what he says in the two first Chapters of his Book, we may reasonably believe, that it is not safe to yield to his Authority, without examining his Reasons. But that we may be the more persuaded of it, I proceed to shew, that there is no Chapter in this First Book but has some Impertinency.

In the Third Chapter he says, That the Heavens are incorruptible, and uncapable of Alteration; of which he alledges several Childish Proofs, as, that they are the Habitation of the Immortal Gods, and that no Change was ever observed in them. This last Proof would be good enough, could he say, that ever any Body was come back from thence, or that he had approached Celesti∣al Bodies sufficiently near to observe their Alterations. And yet I doubt whether at this time any one should yield to his Authority, since Telescopes assure us of the contrary.

In the Fourth Chapter he pretends to prove, That the Circular Motion has no Opposite; though it be plain, that the Motion from East to West is contrary to that which is made from West to East.

In the Fifth Chapter he very weakly proves, That Bodies are not Infinite; drawing his Argu∣ments from the Motion of simple Bodies: For what hinders, but there may be above his Primum mobile some unmovable Extension.

In the Sixth, he loses time in shewing, That the Elements are not Infinite: For, who can doubt of it, when he supposes, with him, that they are included within the surrounding Hea∣vens?

But he ridicules himself, by drawing his Proofs from their Gravity and Lightness. If Ele∣ments, says he, were Infinite, there would be an Infinite Heaviness and Lightness; which cannot be: Ergo, &c. Those that desire to see his Arguments at length, may read them in his Books; for I reckon it a loss of Time to relate them.

He goes on in the Seventh Chapter to prove, That Bodies are not Infinite; and his first Argu∣ment supposes it necessary for every Body to be in Motion, which he neither does nor can de∣monstrate.

In the Eighth he asserts, That there are not many Worlds of the same Nature, by this ridicu∣lous Reason, That if there were another Earth besides this we inhabit, the Earth being ponderous of its own nature, it would fall upon ours, which is the Centre of all ponderous Bodies. Whence has he learned this, but from his Senses?

In the Ninth he proves, That it is not so much as possible that there should be several Worlds, because if there was any Body above the Heavens, it would be simple or composed, in a natural or violent State; which cannot be, for Reasons which he draws from the Three sorts of Motions already spoken of.

In the Tenth he asserts, That the World is Eternal, because it cannot have had a Beginning, and yet last for ever; because we see, that whatever is made, is corrupted in Time. He has learned this likewise from his Senses: But who has taught him, that the World will always endure?

He spends the Eleventh Chapter in explaining what Incorruptible signifies; as though Equivoca∣tion was here very dangerous, or that he was to make a great Use of his Explanation. However, that Word Incorruptible is so clear of it self, that Aristotle needed not have troubled himself with explaining in what Sense it must be taken, or in what Sense he takes it. It had been more convenient to define an infinite Number of Terms, very usual with him, which raise nothing but sensible Ideas; for so perhaps we should have learned something by the reading of his Works.

In the Last Chapter of this First Book of the Heavens, he endeavours to shew, That the World is incorruptible, because 'tis impossible it should have had a Beginning, and yet last eternally. All Things, says he, subsist either for a finite or infinite Time; but what is only infinite in one sense, is neither finite nor infinite, and therefore nothing can subsist in that Manner.

This is the way of arguing with the Prince of Philosophers, and the Genius of Nature; who, instead of discovering, by clear and distinct Ideas, the true Cause of natural Effects, lays the Foundation of a Pagan Philosophy upon the false and confused Ideas of the Senses, or upon such Ideas as are too general to be useful to the Search after Truth.

I condemn not Aristotle for not knowing that God has created the World in Time, to manifest his Power, and the Dependency of Creatures; and that he will never destroy it, to shew that he is immutable, and never repents of his Designs: But I may find fault with him for proving, by trifling Reasons, that the World is of Eternal Duration. For, though he be sometimes excusa∣ble as to the Opinions he maintains, yet he's for the most part intollerable as to the Reasons he alledges, when he treats of Subjects that are somewhat difficult. What I have already said, may perhaps be sufficient to evince it; though I have not related all the Errours I have met with in the Book whence the former are extracted, and that I have endeavour'd to make him speak plainer than is customary with him.

But for an entire and full Conviction, that the Genius of Nature will never discover the secret Springs and Contrivances of it, it will be convenient to shew, that his Principles, upon which he reasons for the Explication of natural Effects, have no Solidity in them.

'Tis evident that nothing can be discover'd in Physicks, without beginning with the most simple Bodies; that is, with the Elements; into which all others are resolv'd, because they are * 1.52 con∣tain'd in them either actually or potentially, to speak in a Peripatetick Stile. But no distinct Ex∣plication of those simple Bodies can be found in the Works of Aristotle; whence follows, that his Elements being not clearly known, 'tis impossible to discover the Nature of Bodies which are compos'd of them.

He says indeed, that there are four Elements, Fire, Air, Water and Earth; but he gives no clear Manifestation of their Nature, by any distinct Idea: He pretends not that those Elements are the Fire, Air, Water and Earth that we see; for if it were so, our Senses at least would afford us some Knowledge of them. I grant that in several places of his Works he endeavours to explain them by the Qualities of Heat and Cold, Moisture and Dryness, Gravity and Levity. But that Method is so impertinent and ridiculous, that it cannot be conceiv'd how so many Learned Men could be satisfied with it; which I proceed to demonstrate.

Aristotle pretends in his Book of the Heavens, that the Earth is the Centre of the World, and that all Bodies which he is pleas'd to call simple, because he supposes that they are mov'd by their own Nature, must move by simple Motions. He asserts, that besides the Circular Motion, which he pretends to be simple, and by which he proves that the Heavens, which he supposes to move circularly, are a simple Body, there are two other simple Motions; one downwards, from the Cir∣cumference to the Centre; and the other upwards, from the Centre to the Circumference: That those simple Motions are proper to simple Bodies, and consequently that Earth and Fire are such Bodies; one of which is altogether heavy, and the other perfectly light. But because Gravity and Levity may be proper to a Body, either wholly, or in part, he concludes that there are two other Elements, or simple Bodies, one of which is partly light, and the other partly ponderous, viz. Water and Air. Thus he proves that there are four Elements, and no more.

It is plain to all those who examine the Opinions of Men by their own Reason, that all those Propositions are false, or cannot at least be taken for clear and undeniable Principles, which may afford very plain and distinct Ideas, whereon to lay the Foundation of Natural Philosophy. 'Tis certain that nothing can be more absurd, than to establish the Number of Elements upon the ima∣ginary Qualities of Heaviness and Lightness; saying, without any farther Proof, that some Bodies are ponderous, and others light, of their own Nature: For if any thing may be asserted without Proof, it may be said that all Bodies are naturally heavy, and endeavour to approach the Centre of the World, as the place of their Rest. And the contrary may be asserted too, viz. That all Bo∣dies are light of their own Nature, and tend to rise to the Heavens, as to the place of their great∣est Perfection. For if you object to him who maintains the Gravity of Bodies, that Fire and Air are light; he needs but answer, that Fire and Air are not light; but that being less ponderous than Earth and Water, they seem to us to be light: And that it goes with those Elements, as with a piece of Wood that appears light upon the Water; not by reason of any natural Levity, since it falls down when in the Air; but because Water being heavier, seizes the lower Place, and forces it to ascend.

On the contrary, If you object to him that defends the natural Levity of Bodies, that Earth and Water are ponderous; he will likewise answer, That those Bodies seem heavy, because they are not so light as those that surround them: That Wood, for instance, appears to be ponderous when in the Air, not because of its natural Gravity, since it ascends when in the Water, but because it is not so light as Air.

And therefore 'tis ridiculous to suppose, as an undeniable Principle, that Bodies are either light or heavy of their own Nature; it being, on the contrary, evident, that none has the Force of mo∣ving it self, and that 'tis indifferent to be moved either upwards or downwards, to the East or to the West, to the South or to the North, or in any other possible manner.

But let us grant to Aristotle, That there are four Elements, such as he pretends; two of which are heavy, viz. Earth and Water; and the two other light of their own Nature, viz. Fire and Air; what Consequence may be drawn from thence, for the Knowledge of the Universe? Those four Elements are not the visible Fire, Air, Water and Earth, but something quite different, which we know neither by the Senses, nor by Reason, having no distinct Idea of them. Let all natural Bodies be compos'd of them, since Aristotle has said it: But the Nature of those Compounds is still unknown, and cannot be discovered, but by knowing the four Elements, or the simple Bodies of which they are made, since the Composed is known only by the Simple.

Fire, says Aristotle, is light by its own Nature; the ascending Motion is simple: Fire is there∣fore a simple Body, since Motion must be proportion'd to the Moveable. Natural Bodies are compos'd of simple, there is then Fire in all natural Bodies, but a Fire which is not like to that we see; for Fire is often but in potentia in the Bodies that are made of it. What signifie all these Peripatetick Discourses? That there is Fire in all Bodies, either actual or potential, that is to say, that all Bodies are compos'd of something we see not, and the Nature of which is wholly un∣known unto us. Now we have made a very fair Progress.

But though Aristotle shews us not the Nature of Fire, and other Elements, of which all Bodies are made up; yet one may imagine, that he will at least discover their principal Qualities and Properties. Let us also examine what he says upon that Account.

He declares that there are four principal Qualities which belong to the Sense of Touching,* 1.53 viz. Heat, Cold, Humidity and Siccity; of which all the other are compos'd. He distributes those primitive Qualities into the four Elements, ascribing Heat and Dryness to Fire, Heat and Moisture to the Air, Cold and Moisture to Water, and Cold and Dryness to Earth. He asserts that Heat and Cold are active Qualities; but that Dryness and Moisture are passive. He defines Heat, What congregates Things of the same kind; Cold, What congregates Things either of the same, or of dif∣ferent Species; Moisture, What cannot easily be contain'd in its own Limits, but is easily kept with∣in foreign Bounds; and Dryness, What is easily contain'd within its own Limits, but will hardly be adapted to the Bounds of surrounding Bodies.

Thus, according to Aristotle, Fire is a hot and dry Element, and therefore congregates Homoge∣neous Things, is easily contain'd within its own Limits, and hardly within others: Air is a hot and moist Element, and therefore congregates Homogeneous Things, can hardly be kept within its own Limits, but easily within others: Water is a cold and moist Element, and therefore congregates both Homogeneous and Heterogeneous Things, is hardly contain'd within its own Limits, but easily with∣in others: And lastly, Earth is a cold and dry Element, or such an one as aggregates Things, both of the same and different Natures, is easily contain'd within its own Limits, but can hardly be adapt∣ed to others.

There you have the Elements explain'd, according to the Opinion of Aristotle, or the Definitions he has given of their principal Qualities; and because, if we may believe him▪ the Elements are simple Bodies, out of which others are constituted; and their Qualities are simple Qualities, of which all others are compos'd, the Knowledge of those Elements and Qualities must be very clear and distinct, since the whole Natural Philosophy, or the Knowledge of all sensible Bodies, which are made of them, must be deduc'd from thence.

Let us then see what may be wanting to those Principles. First, Aristotle fixes no distinct Idea to the Word Quality: It cannot be known whether by Quality he understands a real Being distin∣guish'd from Matter, or only a Modification of Matter; he seems one while to take it in the for∣mer, and at another time in the latter Sense. I grant that in the 8th Chapter of his Categories, he

defines Quality, that by which Things are denominated so or so; but that is not plain and satisfacto∣ry. Secondly, His Definitions of the four Primitive Qualities, viz. Heat, Cold, Moisture and Dryness, are either false, or useless. We will begin with his Definition of Heat: Heat, says he, is that which congregates Homogeneous Things.

First, Though that Definition should be true, That Heat always congregates Homogeneous Bo∣dies; yet we cannot see how it perfectly explains the Nature of Heat.

Secondly, 'Tis false that Heat congregates Homogeneous Things; for Heat dissipates the Par∣ticles of Water into Vapour, instead of heaping them together: It congregates not likewise the Parts of Wine, or any Liquor or Fluid Body whatsoever, even to Quick-silver. On the contrary, it resolves and separates both Solid and Fluid Bodies, whether of the same or different Natures; and if there be any, the Parts of which Fire cannot dissipate, it is not because they are homoge∣neous, but because they are too gross and solid to be carry'd away by the Motion of the fiery Particles.

Thirdly, Heat, in reality, can neither congregate nor segregate the Parts of any Body whatso∣ever; for, that the Parts of Bodies may be congregated, separated or dissipated, they must be mo∣ved: But Heat can move nothing, or at least, it appears not that it can move Bodies; for though we consider Heat with all the possible Attention, we cannot discover that it may communicate to Bodies a Motion which it has not it self. We see, indeed, that Fire moves and separates the Parts of such Bodies as lie expos'd to its Action, but it is not perhaps by its Heat, it being not evident whether it has any; it is rather by the Action of its Parts, which we visibly perceive to be in a con∣tinual Motion; for these fiery Particles striking against a Body, must needs impart to it somewhat of their Motion, whether there is or is not any Heat in Fire. If the Parts of that Body be not very solid▪ Fire will dissipate them; but if they be very gross and solid, Fire can but just move them, and make them slide one over the other. And Lastly, If there be a Mixture of subtile and gross Parts, Fire will only dissipate those which it can push so far as to separate them from the others. So that Fire can only separate; and if it congregate, 'tis only by Accident. But Aristotle asserts quite contrary:* 1.54 Separating, says he, which some ascribe to Fire, is but congregating Homo∣geneous Things; for 'tis only by Accident that Fire carries off Things of different Nature.

If this Philosopher had at first distinguished the Sensation of Heat, from the Motion of the small Particles, of which the Bodies called hot are composed, and had afterwards defined Heat, taken from the Motion of Parts, by saying, that Heat is what agitates and separates the invisible Parts, or which visible Bodies are made up; he would have given a tolerable definition of Heat; though not full and satisfactory: because it would not accurately discover the Nature of Motion in hot Bodies.

Aristotle defines Cold, what congregates Bodies of the same, or different Nature: but that De∣finition is worth nothing, for Cold congregates not Bodies. To congregate them, it must move them: but if we consult our Reason we shall find, that Cold can move nothing; for we under∣stand by that word, either what we feel when we are cold, or what causes our Sensation. As to our Sensation, 'tis plain that it is merely Passive, and can neither move nor drive any thing. And as to the Cause of that Sensation, reason tells us, if we examine things, that it is merely rest, or a Cessation of Motion: So that Cold in Bodies being no more than the Cessation of that sort of Motion which attends Heat, 'tis evident that if Heat separate, Cold does not. And therefore Cold coacervates neither things of the same, nor of different nature; since what cannot drive on Bodies cannot amass them together. In a word, as it does nothing, it must needs congregate nothing.

Aristotle judging of things by his Senses, imagin'd Cold to be as positive as Heat; and because the Sensations of Heat and Cold are both real and positive, he supposes them both likewise to be active Qualities: and indeed, if we follow the Impressions of the Senses, we shall be apt to be∣lieve that Cold is a very active Quality; since cold Water congeals, accumulates, and hardens in a moment melted Gold and Lead, when they are pour'd upon it from a Crucible; though the Heat of those Metals be yet strong enough to separate the Parts of the Bodies which they touch.

'Tis plain, by what has been said in the First Book, concerning the Errours of the Senses, That if we relye upon the Judgment the Senses make of the Qualities of sensible Bodies, 'tis impossible to discover any certain and undeniable Truth, that may serve as a Principle to proceed in the Knowledge of Nature. For one cannot so much as discover that way, what things are hot, and what cold; amongst several Persons, who touch luke-warm Water, it feels cold to those that are hot,* 1.55 and hot to those that are cold. And if we suppose Fishes susceptible of Sensation, 'tis very probable that they feel it warm, when all or most Men feel it cold. It is the same with Air, that seems to be hot or cold, according to the different Dispositions of the Bodies of those that are ex∣posed to it. Aristotle pretends that it is hot, but I fansie that the Nothern Inhabitants are of ano∣ther Opinion, since several learned Men, whose Climate is as hot as that of Greece, have asser∣ted it to be cold. But that Question, which has made so much noise in the Schools, will never be resolv'd, as long as no distinct Idea shall be affixed to the Word Heat.

The Definitions Aristotle lays down of Heat and Cold cannot settle that Idea. For Instance, Air, and even Water, though never so hot and scalding, congregate the parts of melted Lead to∣gether with those of any other Metal whatsoever. Air conglutinates all sorts of Fat joyn'd with Gums, or any other solid Bodies. And he shall be a very formal Peripatetick, who should think of exposing Mastich, to the Air, to separate the pitchy from the Earthy part, and other com∣pound Bodies to uncompound them. And therefore Air is not hot, according to the Definition

which Aristotle gives of Heat. Air separates Liquors from the Bodies that are imbued with them, hardens Clay, dries spread Linen, though Aristotle makes it moist, and so is hot and drying, ac∣cording to the same Definition; therefore it cannot be determined by that Definition, whether or no Air is hot. It may indeed be asserted that Air is hot in reference to Clay, since it separates the Water from the Earthy Part. But must we try all the various Effects of Air upon all Bodies, before we can be assured, whether there is Heat in the Air we breath in? If it be so, we shall ne∣ver be sure of it, and 'tis as good not to philosophize at all upon the Air we respire, but upon some certain pure and elementary Air, not to be found here below, of which we can very dog∣matically assert, with Aristotle, that it is hot, without giving the least Proof of it, nor even distinctly knowing what we understand either by that Air, or by the Heat ascribed to it. For thus we shall lay down Principles scarce to be destroyed; not because of their Plainness and Certainty, but by reason of their Darkness, and their being like to Apparitions, which cannot be wounded, because they have not a Body.

I shall not insist upon Aristotle's Definitions of Moisture and Dryness; it being evident, that they explain not their Nature. For according to those Definitions, Fire is not dry, since it is not easily contained within its own limits; and Ice is not moist, since it keeps within its proper Bounds, and can difficultly be adapted to external Bounds. But if fluid be understood by the Word humid, or moist, it may again be said, that Ice is not moist; and that Flame, melted Gold, and Lead, are very humid. If by humid or moist be understood what easily cleaves to any thing, Ice is not humid, and Pitch, Fat, and Oil, are moister than Water, since they cleave to Bodies more strongly than it does. Quick-silver is moist in that sense, for it cleaves to Metals; where∣as Water is not perfectly moist, since it cleaves not to most of them. So that 'tis unserviceable to have recourse to the Testimony of the Senses, to defend the Opinions of Aristotle.

But without farther examining his wonderful Definitions of the four Elementary Qualities, let us suppose that whatever the Senses teach us of those Qualities is incontestable: let us muster up all our Faith, and believe all those Definitions very accurate: Only let it be allowed us to en∣quire whether all the Qualities of sensible Bodies are made of these Elementary Qualities. Aristo∣tle pretends it, and he must do so indeed, since he looks upon those Four primitive Qualities, as the Principles of all the things which he intends to explain in his Books of Physicks.

He teaches us, that Colours are produced from the Mixture of those Four Elementary Quali∣ties; White is produced when Moisture exceeds Heat; as in old Men, when they grow gray; Black when Moisture is exhausted, as in the Walls of Cisterns; and all other Colours by the like Mixtures: that Odours and Savours arise from different Degrees of Dryness and Moisture, mix'd together by Heat and Cold; and that even Gravity and Levity do depend thereon. In short, All sensible Qualities must needs be produced, according to Aristotle, by Two active Principles, viz. Heat and Cold: and composed of Two passive, namely, Dryness and Moisture; that there may be some probable Connexion betwixt his Principles, and the Consequences he draws from them.

However 'tis yet a harder Task to persuade us of such things, than any of those that have been hitherto related from Aristotle. We can scarce believe that the Earth, and other Elements, would not be colour'd, or visible, if they were in their natural Purity, without Mixture of those Ele∣mentary Principles, though some learned Commentators on that Philosopher assert it. We under∣stand not what Aristotle means when he assures us, that gray Hair is produced by Moisture, because in old Men Moisture exceeds Heat; though to illustrate his thought we put the definition instead of the thing defined. For it looks like an incomprehensible piece of Nonsence to say that the Hair of old Men becomes gray, because what is not easily contained within its own Limits, but may be within others, exceeds what congregates homogeneous things.

And we are as hard put it to believe that Savour is well explain'd, by saying it consists in a mixture of Dryness, Moisture, and of Heat, especially when we put, instead of those words, the Definitions given by that Philosopher; as it would prove useful, if they were just and good. And none perhaps could forbear laughing, if instead of the Definitions which Aristotle gives of Hunger and Thirst when he says, that Hunger is the desire of what is hot and dry, and Thirst the desire of what is cold and moist; we should substitute the Definitions of those words, calling Hunger the desire of that which coacervates things of the same nature, and is easily contained with∣in its own Limits, and difficultly within others; and defining Thirst, the desire of that which con∣gregates things of the same and different natures, and which can hardly be contained within its own bounds, but is easily kept within others.

Surely 'tis a very useful Rule to know whether Terms have been well defined, and to avoid mistakes in reasoning, often to put the Definition instead of the thing defined; for that shews whe∣ther the words are equivocal, and the Measures of the Relations false and imperfect, or whether we argue consequently. If it be so, what Judgment can be made of Aristotle's Arguments, which become an impertinent and ridiculous Nonsence, when we make use of that Rule? and what may also be said of all those who argue upon the false and confused Ideas of the Senses, since that Rule which preserves Light and Evidence, in all exact and solid Reasonings, brings nothing but confusion in their Discourses?

'Tis not possible to lay open the foolish Capriciousness and Extravagance of Aristotle's Expli∣cations upon all sorts of matters. When he treats of simple and easie Subjects, his Errours are plain and obvious to be discover'd; but when he pretends to explain very composed things and depending on several Causes, his Errours are as much compounded as the Subjects he speaks of; so that it is impossible to unfold them all, and set them before others.

That great Genius, who is said to have so well succeeded in his Rules for defining well, knows not so much as which are the things that may be defined, because he puts no Distinction betwixt a clear and distinct▪ and a sensible Knowledge, and pretends to know and explain other things of which he has not so much as a distinct Idea. Definitions ought to explicate the Nature of things, and the words of which they consist must raise in the Mind distinct and particular Notions. But 'tis impossible to define in that manner sensible Qualities, as Heat, Cold, Colour, Savour, &c. When you confound the Cause with the Effect, the Motion of Bodies with the Sensation that attends it; because Sensations being Modifications of the Soul, which are not to be known by clear Ideas, but only by internal Sensation as I have explain'd it in the third Book; it is impos∣sible to fix to those words, Ideas which we have not.

As we have Distinct Ideas of a Circle, a Square, a Triangle, and therefore know distinctly their Nature, so we can give good Difinitions of them, and even deduce from our Ideas of those Figures all their Properties, and explain them to others by such words as are fixed to those Ideas. But we cannot define either Heat or Cold, in as much as they are sensible Qualities, because we know them not distinctly, and by Ideas; but only by Conscience and inward Sensation.

Neither must we define the Heat that is without us by any of its Effects. For if we substitute such a Definition in its place, we shall find that it will only conduce to lead us into Errour. For In∣stance, if Heat be defined what congregates homogeneous things, without adding any thing else, we may by that Definition mistake for Heat such things as have no Relation to it. For then it might be said, that the Loadstone collects the Filings of Iron, and separates them from those of Silver, be∣cause 'tis hot; that a Dove eats Hempseed when it leaves other Grain, because that Bird is hot; that a covetous Man separates his Guineas from his Silver, because he is hot. In short, there is no impertinency, but that Definition would induce one into it, were he dull enough to follow it. And therefore that Definition explains not the nature of Heat, nor can it be imploy'd to deduce all its properties from it: since by literally insisting upon it, we should draw ridiculous Conclu∣sions; and by putting it instead of the thing defined, fall into Nonsense.

However, if we carefully distinguish Heat from its Cause; though it cannot be defined, in as much as it is a Modification of the Soul, whereof we have no Idea: yet its Cause may be defi∣ned, since we have a distinct Idea of Motion. But we must observe that Heat▪ taken for such a Motion, causes not always in us the Sense of Heat. For Instance, Water is hot, since its Parts are fluid, and in Motion, and most probably it feels warm to Fishes, at least 'tis warmer than Ice, whose Parts are more quiet; but 'tis cold to us, because it has less Motion than the Parts of our Body; what has less Motion than another, being in some manner quiet, in respect of that. And therefore 'tis not with reference to the Motion of the Fibres of our Body, that the Cause of Heat, or the Motion that excites it, ought to be defined. We must, if possible, define that Motion ab∣solutely, and in it self: for then our Definition will be subservient to know the Nature and Proper∣ties of Heat.

I hold not my self oblig'd to examine farther the Philosophy of Aristotle, and to extricate his so much confus'd and puzling Errours. I have shewn, methinks, that he proves not the Existence of his four Elements, and defines them wrong; that his Elementary Qualities are not such as he pre∣tends, that he knows not their Nature, and that all the Second Qualities are not made of them; and lastly, that though we should grant him that all Bodies are compos'd of the four Elements, and the Second Qualities of the First, his whole System would still prove useless for the finding out of Truth, since his Ideas are not clear enough to preserve Evidence in all our Reasonings.

If any doubt whether I have propos'd the true Opinions of Aristotle, he may satisfie himself by consulting his Books of the Heavens, and of Generation and Corruption, whence I have ex∣extracted almost all that I have said of him. I would relate nothing out of his Eight Books of Physicks, because some learned Men pretend they are but a mere Logick; which is very apparent, since nothing but rambling and undetermin'd Words are to be found in them.

As Aristotle often contradicts himself, and that almost all sorts of Opinions may be defended by some Passages drawn out of him, I doubt not but some Opinions, contrary to those I have ascrib'd to that Philosopher, may be prov'd out of himself: And I shall not warrant for him; but it is sufficient for me that I have the Books I have quoted, to justifie what I have said of him; and I care little whether those Books are Aristotle's, or not; taking them for such, as I find them upon the publick Fame; for we ought not to trouble our selves with enquiring into the true Genealogy of Things, for which we have no great Esteem.

CHAP. VI.

General and necessary Directions to proceed orderly in the Search after Truth, and in the Choice of Sciences.

LEST it should be said, that we have only been destroying the Reasonings of others, but establish nothing certain and undeniable of our own; it will be convenient to propose, in few words, what Order we ought to observe in our Studies, for the avoiding Errour: and I de∣sign withal to shew some Truths and Sciences that are very necessary, as bearing such a Character of Evidence, as that we cannot withold our Consent, without feeling the secret Upbraidings of

our Reason. I shall not explain at large those Truths and Sciences; that's already done, and I intend not to reprint the Works of others, but only to refer to them, and to shew what Order we must keep in our Studies, to preserve Evidence in all our perceptions.

The first Knowledge of all, is that of the Existence of our Soul; all our Thoughts are so many undeniable Demonstrations of it, for nothing is more evident, than that whatever actually thinks, is actually something. But though it be easie to know the Existence of our Soul, yet her Essence and Nature are not so easily discovered. If we desire to know what she is, we must take care above all, not to confound her with the things to which she is united. If we doubt, will, argue; we must only believe, that the Soul is something that doubts, wills, argues, and nothing more, as long as we have not felt in her other Properties: for we know our Soul only by the inward Sensation we have of her. We must not mistake her for our Body, for Blood, for Animal Spi∣rits, for Fire, and many other things for which Philosophers have mistaken her. We must be∣lieve of the Soul no more than we are forced to believe of her, by a full conviction of our in∣ward Sense, for otherwise we shall be deceiv'd. Thus we shall know, by a simple view, or by internal Sensation, whatever may be known of the Soul; without being obliged to long reason∣ings that might lead us into Errour. For when we reason, Memory operates; and whereever Memory operates, there may be Errour; supposing our Knowledge should depend on some wicked Spirits that should take delight in deceiving us.

Though I should suppose, for instance, a God, who took delight in thus abusing me; yet I am persuaded that I could not be deceived in a Knowledge of simple Perception, as is that by which I know that I am, that I think, or that 2 and 2 are 4. For I am conscious to my self, that in this extravagant Supposition, such a deluding Spirit, though never so potent, could not make me doubt that I am, or that 2 times 2 are 4; because I perceive those things with a simple view or Perception, and without the use of Memory. But when I reason, as I see not evidently the Principles of my Reasonings, but only remember that I have evidently seen them. If that sedu∣cing God should join that Remembrance to false Principles, as he might do if he pleas'd, I should conclude nothing but what was false. Just like those that make long Calculations; fancying they remember that they have plainly seen that 9 times 9 are 72, or that 21 is a primitive Num∣ber, or some other Errour of that Nature, draw false Inferences from thence.

And therefore 'tis necessary to know God, and to be assured that he is no Deceiver; if we de∣sire to be fully convinced that the most certain Sciences, as Arithmetick and Geometry are true Sciences; for without that their Evidence is not full, and we can still with-hold our Consent. And 'tis likewise necessary to know by a simple View, and not by Reasoning, that God is no De∣ceiver; since reasoning may still be false, in the supposition of a deluding God.

All the ordinary Proofs of the Existence and Perfections of God, drawn from the Existence and Perfections of his Creatures, are methinks liable to this Defect, that they convince not the Mind with a simple Perception. All those Arguments are Reasonings convincing in themselves; but be∣cause they are Reasonings, they are not demonstrative in supposing a wicked and deceitfull Genius. They sufficiently shew that there is a Power superiour to us, which is granted even by that foo∣lish Supposition: but they do not fully persuade us that there is a God, or a Being infinitely per∣fect; so that the Conclusion of those Arguments is more evident than the Principle.

Tis more evident that there is a Power superiour to us, than that there is a World, since no Supposition can obviate our demonstrating that superiour Power; whereas in supposing an evil and deceitfull Spirit, 'tis impossible to prove the Existence of the World: because it may still be conceived, that this wicked Genius gives us the Sense of things that are not in being; as Sleep, and some Distempers, make us perceive things that never were, and even feel an actual pain in imaginary Members, such as we have lost, or that we never had.

But the Arguments of the Existence and Perfections of God, drawn from our Idea of infinite, are Proo••s of simple sight. We see there is a God, as soon as we perceive infinite; because ne∣cessary Existence is included in the Idea of infinite, and that nothing but infinite can furnish to us the Idea of an infinite Being. We likewise see that God is no Deceiver, because knowing that he is infinitely perfect, and that infinite cannot want any Perfection, we plainly perceive that he will not seduce us, and even that he cannot, because he can but what he wills, and what he is able to will. And therefore there is a God, a true God, and a God that never deceives us; though he does not always enlighten us, and that we are obnoxious to Mistakes, when we want his Light. Attentive Minds perceive all those Truths, by a simple intuitive Perception, though we seem to make Arguments, that we may demonstrate them to others; so that they may be sup∣posed as unquestionable Principles of our Reasonings; for having known that God delights not in deceiving us, nothing hinders but we may proceed to Reason.

'Tis also plain that the certainty of Faith depends on that Principle, That there is a God un∣capable of Deceipt. For the Existence of God, and the Infallibility of his Divine Authority, are rather a natural Knowledge and common Notions, as to Minds capable of serious Attention, than Articles of Faith; though to have a Mind susceptible of a sufficient Attention rightly to conceive those Truths, and willingly to apply our selves to the understanding them, be a parti∣cular Gift of God.

From that Principle, That God is no Deceiver, we might likewise infer, that we have a real Body, to which we are united in a particular manner, and that we are surrounded with several others * 1.56. For we are inwardly convinced of their Existence by the continual Sensations, which God produces in us, and which we cannot correct by Reason, without offending Faith; though

we can correct by Reason the Sensations that represent them, as endu'd with some Qualities and Perfections that are not in them: So that we ought not to believe that they are such as we see or imagine them, but only that they exist, and that they are such as we conceive them by Reason.

But that we may proceed orderly, we must not yet examine whether we have a Body, whether there are others about us, or whether we have only bare Sensations of Things which exist not. Those Questions include too great Difficulties, and are not perhaps so necessary as may be ima∣gin'd to perfect our Mind, and to have an accurate Knowledge of Natural and Moral Philoso∣phy, and some other Sciences.

We have within us the Ideas of Numbers and Extension, whose Existence is undeniable, and their Nature immutable; and which would eternally supply us with Objects to think on, if we de∣sire to know all their Relations: It is necessary to begin to make use of our Minds upon those Ideas, for some Reasons, which it will not be amiss to explain, whereof the principal are Three.

The First is, That those Ideas are the most clear and evident of all: For if, to avoid Errour, we must still keep to Evidence in our Reasonings, 'tis plain that we must rather argue from the Ideas of Numbers and Extension, than from the confus'd or compos'd Ideas of Physicks, Morals, Mechanicks, Chymistry, and other Sciences.

Secondly, Those Ideas are the most distinct and exact of all, especially those of Numbers: So that the Habit (which proceeds from the Exercise of Arithmetick and Geometry) of not being content till we precisely know the Relations of Things, endues the Mind with such an Exactness of Thought, as is not to be found in those that are satisfied with the Probabilities so obvious to be met with in other Sciences.

The Third and chief Reason is, That those Ideas are the immutable Rules and common Measure of all the Objects of our Knowledge: For those that perfectly know the Relations of Numbers and Figures, or rather the Art of making such Comparisons as are requisite to know them, have a kind of Universal Knowledge, and a very sure Means evidently and certainly to discover whatever goes not beyond the ordinary Limits of the Mind. But those that are not skilful in this Art, can∣not with Certainty discover such Truths as are somewhat intricate, though they have very clear Ideas of Things, and endeavour to know their Compound Relations.

These, or the like Reasons, mov'd some of the Antients to apply their Youth to the Study of Arithmetick, Algebra and Geometry. Undoubtedly they well knew that Arithmetick and Algebra endue the Mind with such an Insight and Penetration, as was not to be gotten by other Studies; and that Geometry manages the Imagination so well, as that it is not easily puzzl'd or confounded; for that Faculty of the Soul, so necessary to Sciences, acquires by the Use of Geometry, such an universal Nicety as promotes and preserves the clear View of the Mind, even in the most intricate Difficulties.

And therefore, he that desires always to preserve Evidence in his Perceptions, and discover na∣ked Tru••hs, without Mixture of Darkness and Errour, must begin with the Study of Arithmetick, Algebra and Geometry, after he has obtain'd some Knowledge, at least of himself, and the Sove∣reign Being. As for Books that make the Way to those Sciences easie, I may refer to the Medi∣tations of des Cartes, as to the Knowledge of God, and our selves; to the Elements of Mathema∣ticks, newly printed, as to Arithmetick and Algebra; to the New Elements of Geometry, printed in 1667, or to the Elements of Father Taquet, Jesuit, printed at Antwerp in 1665, as to ordi∣nary Geometry; and as to Conick Sections, and the Solution of Geometrical Problemes, to the Trea∣tises of Monsieur de la Hire, intituled, Of Conick Sections, Of Geometrical Places, and Of the Con∣struction of Equations; to which may be added, the Geometry of des Cartes.

I would not have advis'd to the Elements of Mathematicks, as to Arithmetick and Algebra, if I knew any Author who had clearly demonstrated those Sciences; but Truth obliges me to a thing, for which I may be blam'd by some People; for Algebra and Analyticks being altogether requisite for the Discovery of compos'd Truths, I must needs shew my Esteem for a Book which carries those Sciences very far, and which, in the Opinion of many Learned, explains them more clearly than they had been hitherto.

By the careful Study of those general Sciences, we shall evidently know a great Number of Truths, very serviceable in all accurate and particular Sciences. We may afterwards study Natu∣ral and Moral Philosophy, as being very useful, though no•• very fit to make the Mind nice and quick-sighted. And if we desire to preserve Evidence in all our Perceptions, we must take a spe∣cial Care not to be opinionated of any Principle that is not evident, and to which the Chinese, for instance, would not be suppos'd to dissent, after having throughly weigh'd and consider'd it.

And therefore we must only admit in Physicks those Notions which are common to all Men, such as Axioms of Geometry, and the clear Ideas of Extension, Figure, Motion, Rest, and others of that nature, if there be any. Perhaps it will be said, that Extension is not the Essence of Matter: But what is that to the purpose? 'Tis sufficient that the World, which we conceive to consist of Extension, appears like to that we see, though it be not made of such a Matter, which is good for nothing, and altogether unknown, whilst so much Noise is made about it.

It is not absolutely necessary to examine whether there are actually External Beings, corre∣sponding to those Ideas; for we argue not from those Beings, but from their Ideas. We must only take care that our Reasonings which we make upon the Properties of Things, agree with our inward Consciousness; that is, that our Thoughts perfectly agree with Experience; be∣cause in Physicks we endeavour to discover the Order and Connexion of Effects with their

Causes, either in Bodies if they exist, or in the Sense we have of them if they are not in being.

I say not, however, that we can doubt whether Bodies are actually existing, when we consider that God is not a Deceiver; and that the Order he has constituted in our Sentiments of Things▪ both as to natural Occurrences, and such as are wrought to create our Belief of what Reason is at a Loss to comprehend, is very regular. But I observe this, because 'tis not necessary to insist at first very long upon a thing which no body doubts of, and is not extremely conducible to the Knowledge of Physicks, consider'd as a true Science.

Neither must we puzzle our Heads with enquiring whether there are in the Bodies about us some other Qualities, besides those of which we have clear Ideas; for we must only reason up∣on our Ideas; and if there be any thing of which we have no clear, distinct and particular Idea, we shall never know it, nor argue from it with any Certainty: Whereas, perhaps, by reasoning upon our Ideas, we may follow Nature, and perhaps discover that she is not so hidden as is com∣monly imagin'd.

As those who have not study'd the Properties of Numbers, often imagine that it is not possible to resolve some Problemes, which are however simple and easie; so those that have not meditated upon the Properties of Extension, Figures and Motions, are very apt to believe, and even to assert, that most part of the Physical Questions are inexplicable. But we must not be deterr'd by the Opi∣nion of those who have examin'd nothing, or nothing at least with due Application: For though few Truths concerning Natural Things have been fully demonstrated, yet 'tis certain that there are some that are general which cannot be doubted of, though it be very possible not to think up∣on them, to know nothing of them, and to deny them.

If we meditate orderly, and with due Time and all necessary Application, we shall discover se∣veral of those certain Truths I speak of: But for more Conveniency, it will be requisite carefully to read des Cartes's Principles of Philosophy, without approving of any thing he says, till the Strength and Plainness of his Reasons shall suffer us to doubt no longer.

As Moral Philosophy is the most necessary of all Sciences, so it must be study'd with the great∣est Application; it being very dangerous to follow in this the Opinions of Men. But to the avoiding Errour, and keeping to Evidence in our Perceptions, we must only meditate upon such Principles as are confess'd by all those whose Hearts are not corrupted by Debauchery, and their Minds blinded with Pride: For there is no Moral Principle undeniable to Minds of Flesh and Blood, who aspire to the Quality of Bold Wits. Such People conceive not the most simple Truths; or if they do, they constantly deny them through a Spirit of Contradiction, and to keep up the Repu∣tation of great Wits.

Some of the most general Principles of Morality are, That God having made all things for him∣self, has made our Understanding to know, and our Will to love him: That being so just and powerful as he is, we cannot be happy but by obeying his Commands, nor be unhappy in follow∣ing them: That our Nature is corrupted, our Mind depending on our Body, our Reason on our Senses, and our Will on our Passions: That we are uncapable of performing what we plainly see to be our Duty, and that we have need of a Redeemer. There are yet many other Moral Prin∣ciples; as, That Retirement and Penitency are necessary to diminish our Union with sensible Ob∣jects, and to increase that which we have with intelligible Goods, true Goods, and the Goods of the Mind: That we cannot enjoy vehement Pleasures, without becoming Slaves to them: That nothing must be undertaken by Passion: That we must not long for Settlements in this Life, &c. But because these last Principles depend on the former, and on the Knowledge of Man, it behoves us not to take them at first for granted. If we orderly meditate upon those Principles, with as much Care and Application as so great a Subject deserves, and admit no Conclusion for true but such as follows from those Principles, we shall compose a very certain System of Morals, and per∣fectly agreeable with that of the Gospel, though not so large and compleat.

I grant that in Moral Reasonings it is not so easie to preserve Evidence and Exactness, as in some other Sciences; and that the Knowledge of Man being absolutely necessary to those that will proceed far, many Learners make no considerable Progresses therein: They will not consult themselves, to be sensible of the Weakness of their Nature: They are soon weary of interroga∣ting the Master, who inwardly teaches them his Will; that is, the Immutable and Eternal Laws, and the true Principles of Morality: They cannot listen with Pleasure to him that speaks not to their Senses, who answers not according to their Desires, and flatters not their secret Pride: They have no Veneration for such Words, the Lustre of which dazles not their Imagination, which are lowly pronounc'd, and never distinctly heard but when the Creatures are silent: But they consult with Pleasure and Reverence Aristotle, Seneca, or some new Philosophers, who seduce them by the Obscurity of their Words, by the Elegancy of their Expressions, or the Probability of their Reasons.

Since the Fall of our first Parents we esteem nothing but what refers to the Preservation of the Body, and the Conveniencies of Life; and as we discover that sort of Good by means of the Senses, so we endeavour to use them on all Occasions. The Eternal Wisdom, which is our true Life, and the only Light that can illuminate us, often shines but upon the Blind, and speaks but to the Deaf, when it speaks within the Recesses of our Soul, because we are for the most part exer∣cis'd abroad. And as we are continually putting Questions to the Creatures, to learn any News from them of the Good we are in search of, it was requisite, as I have said elsewhere, that this Wisdom should offer it self to our Senses, yet without going out of our selves, that we might learn by sensible Words and convincing Examples, the way to eternal Happiness. God perpetual∣ly

imprints on us a natural Love for him, that we may always love him; yet by that same Mo∣tion of Love we incessantly recede from him, running with all the strength he gives us to the sinsible Good which he forbids us to love; and therefore as he desires we should love him, so he must make himself sensible and offer himself before us, to stop by the delectation of his Grace all our restless Agitations, and begin our Cure by Sensations or Satisfactions, like to the preventing Pleasures that had been the Original of our Disease.

For these reasons I pretend not that Men may easily discover, by the strength of their Mind, all the Rules of Morality necessary to Salvation, and much less that they should be able to act accor∣ding to their Light; for their Heart is still more corrupted than their Mind. I only say, that if they admit nothing but evident Principles, and argue consequently from them, they shall discover the same Truths that are taught us in the Gospel: because it is the same Wisdom, which speaks imme∣diately, and by it self, to those that discover the Truth in evident Reasonings, and which speaks in the Holy Scriptures to those that understand them in their right sense.

We must therefore study Morality in the Gospel, to spare our selves the trouble of Meditation, and to learn with certainty the Laws and Rules of our Life and Manners. As to those who are not satisfied with a bare Certainty, because it only convinces the Mind, without enlightening it, they must meditate upon those Laws, and deduce them from their natural Principles; that they may know evidently by Reason what Faith has already taught them, with an absolute Certainty. Thus they will convince themselves, that the Gospel is the most solid Book in the World, that Christ perfectly knew the Disorders and Distempers of Nature, that he has rectified and cured them in a manner the most useful to us, and most worthy of himself, that can be conceived. But that the Light of Philosophers is nothing but a dark Night, and their most splendid Ver∣tues, an intolerable Pride: In short, that Aristotle, Seneca, and all the rest are but Men, to say nothing worse.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Vse of the First Rule concerning particular Questions.

WE have sufficiently insisted upon the general Rule of Method, more especially regarding the Subject of our Studies, and shewn, that Des Cartes has exactly followed it in his Sy∣stem of the World; whereas Aristotle and his Disciples have not observed it. We proceed now to the particular Rules that are necessary to resolve all sorts of Questions.

The Questions that may be formed upon all sorts of Subjects are of so many Kinds, as that it is not easie to enumerate them. However I shall set down the principal. Sometimes we search after the unknown Causes of some Effects that are known, and sometimes after unknown Effects by known Causes. Fire burns and dissipates Wood, we enquire after the Cause of it. Fire con∣sists in a violent Motion of the fiery Particles; we desire to know what Effects that Motion is able to produce, whether it may harden Clay, melt Iron, &c.

Sometimes we seek the Nature of a thing by its Properties, and sometimes its Properties by its Nature, that is known to us. We know, or suppose, that Light is transmitted in a mo∣ment; and however, that it is reflected and collected by a concave Mirrour, so as to consume and melt the most solid Bodies; and we design to make use of those Properties to discover its Nature. On the contrary we know, that all the space that reaches from the Earth to the Hea∣vens, is full of little Spherical and most movable Bodies, which continually endeavour their re∣moval from the Sun: We desire to discover whether the endeavour of those small Bodies may be transmitted in an instant; whether being reflected by a concave Glass, they must unite them∣selves, and dissipate or melt the solidest Bodies.

Sometimes we enquire after all the Parts of the Whole, and sometimes after the Whole by its Parts. We search after all the unknown Parts of a Whole that is known, when we seek all the Aliquot Parts of a Number, all the Roots of an Equation, all the Right Angles of a Figure, &c. And we enquire after an unknown Whole, all the Parts of which are known, when we seek the Summ of several Numbers, the Area of many Figures, the Dimensions of different Vessels. Or we seek a Whole, one Part of which is known, and whose other Parts, though unknown, include some known Relation with that which is unknown; as when we seek what is that Number, one Part of which, as 15, being known, makes with the other part the half, or the third of an unknown Number; or when we seek an unknown Number equal to 15, and to the double of the Root of that unknown Number.

Lastly, We often enquire whether some things are equal, or like to others; and how much they are unequal or different: As when we desire to know whether Saturn is greater than Jupiter, and how much the former surpasses the latter: Whether the Air of Rome is hotter than that of London, and how many degrees.

What is general in all Questions is, that they are formed for the Knowledge of some Truths; and because all Truths are Relations, it may generally be said, that in all Questions, we search but after the Knowledge of some Relations, either betwixt things, or betwixt Ideas, or betwixt things and their Ideas.

There are Relations of several sorts, as betwixt the Nature of things, betwixt their Magnitudes, their Parts, their Attributes, their Qualities, Effects, Causes, &c. but they may all be reduced to

two, viz. to Relations of Magnitude and of Quality; comprehending under the former, all those in which things are consider'd as suceptible of more and less; and all the others under the latter. So that it may be said, that all Questions tend to discover some Relation, either of Magnitude or of Quality.

The first and chief Rule is, That we must very distinctly know the state of the Question to be resolv'd; and have such distinct Ideas of its Terms, that we may compare them together, and discover their unknown Relations.

We must then first very clearly perceive the unknown Relation enquired after; for 'tis plain, that if we have no certain Mark to distinguish it, when 'tis sought for, or when 'tis found, our labour will be fruitless.

Secondly, We must, as far as possible, make the Ideas which answer to the Terms of the Que∣stion, distinct, by taking off their Equivocation; and make them clear, by considering them with all the possible Attention: for if those Ideas are so confused and obscure, as that we cannot make the necessary Comparisons, to discover the Relations we look for, we are not yet in a state of re∣solving the Question.

Thirdly, We must consider with all possible Attention, the Conditions expressed in the Question, if any there be; since without that we can but confusedly understand the state of that Question: besides that the Conditions commonly trace out the way to resolve it. So that when the state of a Question, and its Conditions are rightly understood, we not only know what we enquire after, but also sometimes by what means it may be discovered.

I grant that Conditions are not express'd in all Questions, but then those Questions are unde∣terminate, and may resolved several ways; as when 'tis required to find out a Square Number, a Triangle, &c. without specifying any other particulars: Or it may be that the Querist knows not how to resolve, or that he conceals them, in order to puzzle the Resolver; as when 'tis required to find out Two mean Proportionals betwixt Two Lines, without adding by the Intersection of the Circle and Parabola, or of the Circle and Ellipsis, &c.

And therefore 'tis altogether necessary, that the distinguishing Character of what is searched after, be very distinct, and not equivocal, or that it be only proper to the thing enquired; other∣wise we could not be certain whether the Question proposed is resolved. We must likewise care∣fully separate from the Question all the Conditons that make it intricate, and without which it subsists entire; because they fruitlessly divide the capacity of the Mind. Besides that we have not a distinct perception of the state of the Question, as long as the Conditions that attend it are useless.

Suppose, for instance, a Question were proposed in these Words; to cause that a Man be∣sprinkled with some Liquors, and crowned with a Garland of Flowers, be not able to rest, though he sees nothing that is capable of moving him. We must enquire whether the word Man is Meta∣phorical; whether the word Rest is equivocal; whether it relates to local Motions, or to Passions, as the last words, though he sees nothing that is capable of moving him, seem to hint: Lastly, We must enquire whether the Conditions, besprinkled with some Liquors, and crowned with a Gar∣land of Flowers are essential. Lastly, The state of that ridiculous and undeterminate Question be∣ing thus plainly known, 'twill be easie to resolve it, by saying that we need but put a Man in a Ship, with the Conditions expressed in the Question.

The Skill of those that propose such Questions, is to join some Conditions to them, that seem necessary though they be not so; that the Mind of the Resolver may be diverted to things that are unserviceable, as to the Solution of it. As in this Question, which Servant-Maids often put to Children; I have seen, say they, Hunters, or rather Fishers, which carried with them what they could not catch, and threw into the Water what they catch'd; the Mind being prepossessed with the Ideas of Fishers that take Fish, cannot understand the state of that Foolish Question; the whole Difficulty of which comes from hence, that we think not that Hunters and Fishers, as well as other Men, often seek in their Cloaths some little Animals, which they throw away if they catch, and carry with them if they find them not.

Sometimes all the Conditions that are necessary to resolve a Question are not mention'd, which makes them as hard as the expressing of unserviceable Characters, as in the following; to make a Man unmovable, without binding or wounding him; or rather, by putting his little Finger in∣to his Ear; so that he shall not be able to stir, until he takes his little Finger out of his Ear; that at first appears impossible, and 'tis really so: for any one may walk having his little Finger in his Ear; but there wants a Condition, which, if it were express'd, would remove the whole Diffi∣culty: for you need but make a Man embrace a Bed-post, or something like, and put his little Finger into his Ear, so that the Post be included between his Arm and Ear, it being plain he can∣not stir without taking out his Finger. It is not mentioned that there is yet something to be done, on purpose that the Mind should not seek for, nor discover it. But those that undertake the resolving of such Questions, must make all the Queries that are requisite, to understand the point wherein lies the Stress of the Difficulty.

Those arbitrary Questions appear to be foolish, and are indeed so in one Sense, as far as no∣thing is learn'd by their Solution. However they are not so different from natural Questions as may be imagin'd; for both are resolved by a Method that is very near the same. And as the Skill or Maliciousness of Men, makes arbitrary Questions intricate and difficult; so natural Effects are of themselves surrounded with Obscurity and Darkness, that must be dissipated by the Attention of the Mind, and by Experiments, which are a sort of Queries put to the Author of Nature;

even as Equivocations, and useless Circumstances are taken off from arbitrary Questions, by the skilful Queries that are made to the Proposers. Let us explain these things methodically, and in a more serious and instructing Manner.

There are many Questions which appear very difficult, because they are not understood, which should rather be taken for Axioms, that need some Explication, than for true Questions; for some Propositions which are undeniable, when the Terms that compose them are rightly understood, must not methinks be ranked in the Number of Questions.

For Instance, It is proposed as a very difficult Question, Whether the Soul be immortal; because they who propose, or pretend to resolve it, do not distinctly apprehend the Sense of the Terms. For as the Words Soul and immortal signifie different things, and that they know not how to un∣derstand them, so they cannot tell whether the Soul is immortal, having no distinct Idea, either of what they ask, or enquire after.

By the Word Soul may be understood a Substance that thinks, wills, feels, &c. or it may be taken for the Motion or Circulation of the Blood, and the Configuration of the parts of the Body; and lastly, for the Blood it self, and the Animal Spirits. Likewise by the Word immortal, we understand what cannot perish by the ordinary Force of Nature, or what cannot be changed; or lastly, what cannot be corrupted or dissipated, as a Vapour or Smoke. The Words Soul and immortal, being suppos'd thus distinguished into their several Significations, a very mean Atten∣tion of the Mind will be able to judge whether she is immortal or not.

First, 'tis plain that the Soul taken in the first Sense, or for a thinking Substance, is immortal, if you explain immortal in the first Sense, what cannot perish by the ordinary Force of Nature; since 'tis not conceivable, that any Substance should be annihilated, but that to conceive the Possibility of it, we must have Recourse to the Omnipotence of God.

Secondly, The Soul is immortal, taking immortal in the third Sense, for what cannot be cor∣rupted, nor resolved into Vapour, or Smoke; since 'tis evident, that what cannot be divided into several Parts, cannot be corrupted, nor resolved into Vapours.

Thirdly, The Soul is not immortal, taking it in the second Sense, for what is unchangeable; for we have convincing Proofs enow of the Alterations of our Soul, which feels one while Pain and another Pleasure, which often desires some things which she afterwards ceases to desire; which is united to a Body from which she may be separated, &c.

If the Word Soul be taken in some other Sense, it will be as easie to perceive, whether she is immortal, fixing a determin'd Sense to that Epithet. And therefore what makes such Questions difficult, is, that they are not distinctly understood, or that the Words, in which they are express'd are equivocal; so that they rather need Explication than Proof.

There are some People so dull, and others so fanciful, as that they always take the Soul for some Configuration of the Parts of the Brain, and for the Motion of the Spirits. 'Tis indeed impossible to prove that the Soul is immortal, and unperishable in that Sense, the contrary being evident: so that this is not a Question difficult to be resolved, but a Proposition which 'tis not easie to make some people apprehend; because they have not the same Ideas as we, and that they labour all they can not to have them, and to blind themselves.

When we are asked, whether the Soul is immortal, or any other Question whatsoever; we must first take off the Equivocation of Words, and know in what Sense they are understood, that we may distinctly conceive the State of the Question. If those that propose it are ignorant of the Signification, we must put Queries to them, in order to illuminate and determine them. If by these Queries we discover, that their Ideas are not agreeable with ours, 'tis in vain to answer them; for to answer one who imagines that a Desire, for instance, is nothing but the Motion of some small Particles call'd Spirits; that a Thought is but a Trace or an Image, which the Objects or those Spirits have left in the Brain; and that all the Reasonings of Men consist but in the various Situation of some little Corpuscles, which dispose themselves differently in the Head; to answer him, I say, that the Soul taken in his Sense is immortal, is to deceive him, or to appear ridicu∣lous to him; but to tell him that she is mortal, is, in some Sense, to confirm him in a very dangerous Errour: we must then reply nothing at all, but only endeavour to make him retire into himself, that he may receive the same Ideas that we have from him who is only able to enlighten him.

'Tis likewise a Question which seems pretty difficult, To know whether Beasts have a Soul; how∣ever the Equivocation being taken off, it is so far from being hard, that those who suppose they have one, and those that think they have none, are ignorantly at bottom of the same Opinion.

The Soul may be taken for something Corporeal, dispersed through all the Body, which gives it Life and Motion; or else for something Spiritual. Those that pretend Beasts have no Soul, understand it in the second Sense; for never any Man denied that there is in Animals something Corporeal, which is the Principle of their Life or Motion; since it cannot be denied even of Watches. On the contrary, Those who assert that Beasts have Souls, understand it in the first Sense; for few believe them endued with a Spiritual and Indivisible Soul: so that both Peripate∣ticks and Cartesians believe that Beasts have a Soul, or a Corporeal Principle of their Motion, and both think they have none, or that there's nothing in them Spiritual, and Indivisible.

And therefore the Difference betwixt the Paripateticks and Cartesians consists not in that the former believe Beasts have a Soul, and the latter deny it; but only in that the Aristotelians think that Beasts are capable of Pain and Pleasure, of perceiving Colours, hearing Sounds, and of all the other Sensations and Passions of Men; whereas the Cartesians are of a contrary Opinion.

The latter distinguish the Word Sensation, to take off the Equivocation. For instance, They say that when one is too near the Fire, the Parts of Wood strike against his Hand, vibrate the Fibres; which Vibration is communicated to the Brain, and determines the Animal Spirits con∣tained in it to disperse through the outward Parts of the Body, in such a manner as is fit to make them shrink in, or withdraw. They agree that all those things, or the like, may possibly be found in Animals, and that they actually are, as being Properties of Bodies: And the Peripa∣teticks dissent not from it.

The Cartesians add, that the Percussion or Vibration of the Fibres of the Brain in Men, is attended with a Sensation of Heat, and that the course of the Animal Spirits to the Heart, and other Viscera, is accompanied with a Passion of Hatred, or Aversion; which Sense and Passion of the Soul they deny to be in Beasts, whereas the Peripateticks assert, that Brute Animals feel that Heat as well as we do; that they have, as we, an Aversion to what is uneasie to them; and ge∣nerally, that they are capable of all our Sensations and Passions. The Cartesians do not think that Beasts are sensible of Pleasure or Pain, nor that they love or hate any thing; because they admit nothing in them but what is material, and believe not that Sensations and Passions may be Properties of any Matter whatsoever. On the contrary some Peripateticks esteem Matter capable of Sensation and Passion, when 'tis extremely subtle and refined; that Beasts may feel, by means of the Animal Spirits, that is to say, of a very subtle and fine Matter; and that our Soul is sus∣ceptible of Sensation and Passion, only because she is united to such a Matter.

And therefore to resolve that Question, Whether Beasts have a Soul, we must retire within our selves, and consider with all possible Attention our Idea of Matter: if we can conceive that Mat∣ter so and so figur'd, as square, round, oval, &c. is some Pain, Pleasure, Heat, Colour, Odour, Sound, &c. then we may assert that the Soul of Beasts, though never so material, is however capable of Sense; but if we cannot conceive it, we must not assert it; for we must assure no farther than we can conceive. And likewise if we conceive that Matter toss'd and extremely agi∣tated upwards, downwards, in a Circular, Spiral, Parabolical, Elliptick Line, &c. is any thing of Love, Hatred, Joy, Sorrow, &c. We may say that Beasts have the same Passions as we, but if we apprehend it not, we must not say it, unless we will speak without understanding our selves. But I am sure no Motion of Matter will ever be mistaken for Love, or Joy, by him that shall earnestly think upon it: So that to resolve that Question, Whether Beasts have Sense, we need only take off Equivocation, as those that are called Cartesians use to do; for then that Question will be made so simple and easie, as to be resolved with a little Attention.

'Tis true that St. Austin supposing, according to the common prejudice of Mankind,* 1.57 that Beasts have a Soul; which he never doubted of, as far as I can perceive, because he never seriously examin'd it in his Works: this great Man, I say, perceiving that it is contradictory to say, that a Soul, or a Substance which thinks, feels desires, &c. is material, believed that the Soul of Beasts was really spiritual and indivisible. He proves by very evident Reasons, that a Soul, or whatever has Sense, Imagination, Fear, Desire, &c. must needs be Spiritual; but I never observed that he produc'd any Reason to maintain that Beasts have Souls. He even cares not to prove it, because 'tis likely that scarce any body doubted of it in his time.

There being now Men, who endeavour wholly to free themselves of their Prejudices, and call in Question all Opinions that are not grounded upon clear demonstrative Reasonings: it has been call'd into doubt, whether Animals have a Soul susceptible of the same Sensations and Passions as ours; however there are still several Defenders of the ancient Prejudices, who pre∣tend to prove that Beasts feel, will, think, and argue, even as we do, though in a more im∣perfect manner.

Dogs, say they, know their Masters, love them, and patiently bear the Blows they receive from them, as judging it their best interest not to forsake them; but as to Strangers, they hate them so much as not to away with their Flatterings. All Animals love their Young; Birds, which build their Nests in the extremities of the Branches, sufficiently shew, that they are afraid lest some Creature should devour them: They judge those Branches too weak to bear their Enemies, though strong enough to support both their Young and their Nests. Even Spiders, and the vilest Insects, give some Intimations of an Intelligence that animates them: For one cannot but wonder at the conduct of a little Beast, which though it be blind, yet finds means to trapan in its Nets, others that have Eyes and Wings, and are so bold as to attack the biggest Animals we see.

I grant that all the actions that Beasts perform are certain indications of an Intelligence; for whatever is regular demonstrates it. A Watch shews the same; for 'tis impossible Chance should have composed its Wheels, but an understanding Agent must have ordered its Motions. We plant a Seed inverted, the Roots that were upward sink down into the Ground of themselves, and the Seminal Nib that was turn'd downwards endeavours to alter its Position, to break out: That intimates an Intelligence. That Plant produces Knots at certain Distances, to strenghen it self; it covers its Seed with a Skin that preserves it, and surrounds it with Prickles to defend it: This still denotes an Intelligence. In short, whatever we see done, either by Plants or by Animals, undoubtedly denotes an understanding Agent. All the true Cartesians agree to it, but they make Distinctions, to take away as much as possible, the Equivocation of Words.

The Motions of Beasts and Plants intimate an Intelligence, but that Intelligence is not Matter, and is much distinguished from Beasts, as that which disposes the Wheels of a Watch is distinguish∣ed from the Watch it self. For that Intelligent Being seems infinitely Wise, Powerful, and infinitely the same who has framed us in our Mother's Womb, and affords us a growth to which all the

attempts of our Mind and Will cannot add so much as a Span. And therefore there is in Beasts neither Understanding nor Soul, in the sense those Words are commonly taken. They eat with∣out pleasure, they cry without Pain, they grow without being conscious of it, they neither desire, nor fear, nor know any thing; and if they act in such a manner as intimates an Intelligence, it is because God having made them for a certain time, he has framed their Body in such a manner as that they machinally, and without Fear, shun whatever is able to destroy them. Otherwise it must be said, that there is more Understanding in the smallest Insect, or even in a little Seed, than in the most Ingenious Man; it being certain that there are in them more different Parts, and regular Motions, than we are able to know.

But as Men are used to confound all things, and imagine that their Soul produces in their Bo∣dies most or all the Motions and Changes which befal it, they fix to the Word Soul the wrong Idea of Former and Preserver of the Body. So that thinking that their Soul produces in them whatever is absolutely requisite to the Preservation of their Life, though she knows not so much as the Con∣texture of the Body which she animates, they judge that there must needs be a Soul in Beasts, to produce all the Motions and Changes which befall them, because they are so like those which oc∣cur in us. For Beasts are begot, fed, strengthened, as our Body: they eat, drink, sleep, as we do; because we are altogether like them, as to our Body: the only Difference betwixt us and them con∣sisting in this, that we have a Soul, and they have none. But our Soul frames not our Body, di∣gests not our Aliments, and gives no Motion and Heat to our Blood. She feels, wills, argues, and animates the Body, as to the Sensations and Passions that relate to it: but not by dispersing her self through our Members, to communicate Sense and Life to them; for our Body can receive nothing of what belongs to the Mind. Thence 'tis plain, that the Reason why we cannot resolve several Questions, proceeds from our not distinguishing, and even from our not thinking to distin∣guish the different significations of a Word.

'Tis true, that we distinguish sometimes, but we do it so ill, that instead of taking off the Equi∣vocation of Words by our Distinctions, we make them more perplexed and dark. For instance, when we are asked, whether the Body lives, how it lives, and in what manner the Rational Soul animates it. Whether the Animal Spirits, the Blood, and other Humours live; whether the Teeth, the Hair, and the Nails are animated, &c. we distinguish the Words, live and be animated, in living or being animated with a Rational, with a Sensitive, or with a Vegetative Soul. But that Distinction is only fit to perplex the Question; for those Words want an Explanation themselves; and perhaps the two last, Vegetative and Sensitive, are inexplicable and inconceivable in the Sense they are commonly understood.

If we desire to fix a clear and distinct Idea to the Word Life, we may say, That the Life of the Soul is the Knowledge of Truth, and the love of Good; or rather, that her Thoughts are her Life; and that the Life of the Body consists in the Circulation of the Blood, and the just Proportion and Mixture of Humours; or rather, that the Life of the Body is such a Motion of its parts as is fit for its Preservation. The Ideas fix'd to the Word Life being thus made plain, it will evident∣ly appear, First, That the Soul cannot communicate her Life to the Body, since she cannot make it think. Secondly, That she cannot give it the Life by which it is fed, grows, &c. since she knows not so much as what is requisite to digest our Aliments. Thirdly, That she cannot make it feel, since Matter is incapable of Sensation, &c. Thus all other Questions concerning that Subject, may be resolved without Trouble; provided the Words, in which they are express'd, excite clear Ideas; for if they raise confused and dark, it is impossible to solve them.

In the mean while, 'tis not always absolutely necessary to have Ideas that perfectly represent those things, the Relations of which we desire to examine. It is often sufficient to have but an initial or imperfect Knowledge of them, because we seek not always exactly to know their Re∣lations. I shall explain this more at large.

There are Truths or Relations of two Sorts; some are exactly known, and others but imper∣fectly. We exactly know the Relation betwixt such a Square, and such a Triangle, but have only an imperfect Knowledge of the Relation betwixt London and York. We know that such a Square is equal to such a Triangle, double or treble of it, &c. but we only know that London is big∣ger than York, without knowing precisely how much.

Moreover there are infinite Degrees of Imperfection in Knowledge; and no Knowledge is imper∣fect, but in reference to a more perfect. For Instance, We know that London is bigger than Lin∣coln's Inn ••ields, and that Knowledge is only imperfect, in Relation to another more exact, by which we might accurately know, how much London is larger than that open place contained in it.

There are therefore several sorts of Questions. First, There are some in which we seek a per∣fect Knowledge of all the exact Relations of two or several things betwixt each other.

Secondly, There are some in which we search after the perfect Knowledge of some exact Re∣lation betwixt two or several things.

Thirdly, There are some in which we enquire after the perfect Knowledge of some Relation nearly approaching to the exact Relation, that is betwixt two or more several things.

Fourthly, There are some in which we are content to find a general and indefinite Relation.

'Tis evident, First, That to resolve the Questions of the First sort, and perfectly to know all the exact Relations of Magnitude and Quality betwixt two or more things; we must have distinct Ideas perfectly representing them, and compare them together in all the possible manners. We may, for Instance, resolve all the Questions that tend to discover the exact Relations betwixt 2 and 8, because both Numbers being accurately known may be compared together, as much as is

necessary to know the exact Relations of their Magnitude and Quality. We may know that 8 is 4 times 2, and that 8 and 2 are even, but not square Numbers.

'Tis plain, Secondly, That to resolve Questions of the second sort, and accurately to know some Relation of Magnitude or Quality, which is betwixt two or more things; 'tis necessary and suffici∣ent distinctly to know those Faces by which they must be compared, to discover the enquired Relation. For Instance, to resolve such Questions as tend to discover some exact Relations be∣twixt 4 and 16, as that 4 and 16 are even and square Numbers, it's sufficient exactly to know that 4 and 16 can be divided into equal parts without Fractions, and that both are the product of a Number multiplied by it self; and 'tis to no purpose to examine what is their true Magnitude: It being plain, that to know the exact Relations of Quality betwixt things, a distinct Idea of their Quality is sufficient, without thinking on their Magnitude; and that to know the exact Relations of Magnitude, we need not search after the true Quality, an accurate Knowledge of their Mag∣nitude being all that is required.

Thirdly, It clearly appears that to resolve the Questions of the third sort, or to know some Relation very near approaching the exact Relation that is betwixt two or several things; it is enough nearly to know the Faces by which they must be compared, to discover the Relation re∣quired, whether it be of Magnitude or Quality. For Instance, I may evidently know that the √ 8 is greater than 2, because I may very near know the true Magnitude of the √ 8; but I cannot dis∣cover how much the √ 8 is greater than 2, because I cannot exactly find out the true Magnitude of the √ 8.

Lastly, 'Tis evident that to resolve the Questions of the fourth sort, or to discover general and un∣definite Relations, it is enough to know things in a manner propotion'd to the need we stand in of comparing them together, to find out the required Relation. So that 'tis not necessary to the Solu∣tion of all sorts of Questions, to have very distinct Ideas of their Terms, or perfectly to know the things expressed by those words. But our knowledge must be the more exact, as the Relations we search after are more accurate and numerous: For as we have said in imperfect Questions, im∣perfect Ideas of the things consider'd are sufficient to resolve them perfectly, that is, as far as they reach. And many Questions may be resolved even without any distinct Idea of their Terms; as when we are ask'd whether Fire is capable of melting Salt, hardning Clay, resolving Lead into Va∣pours, and the like, we understand perfectly those Questions, and may very well solve them, though we have no distinct Idea of Fire, Salt, Clay, &c. Because the Querists only desire to know, whe∣ther we are ascertained by sensible Experiments that Fire produces those Effects. And therefore may receive a satisfactory Answer, by a knowledge drawn from the Senses.

CHAP. VIII.

An Application of the other Rules to particular Questions.

QUestions are of two sorts, some are simple and others compound. The former may be solved by the bare Attention of the Mind to the Ideas of the words, in which they are expressed: but the Solution of the latter must be perform'd by comparing them to a third or to many other Ideas. We cannot find out the unknown Relations that are express'd in the Terms of a Question, by immediately comparing the Ideas of those Terms, since they can neither be joined nor compa∣red. We must then have one or several mean Ideas, that we may make such Comparisons, as are necessary to discover those Relations; taking a special Care that those mean Ideas be the more clear and distinct, as the Relations enquired after are more exact and numerous.

That Rule is but a Consequence of the first, but of an equal importance with it. For if ex∣actly to know the Relation of the things compared, it is necessary to have clear and distinct Ideas of them: It plainly follows from the same Reason, that we must have an accurate knowledge of the mean Ideas, by which we intend to make our Comparisons; since we must distinctly know the Relation of measure with each of the things measured, to find out their Relations. I shall give some Instances of it.

When we put a piece of Cork, or other small and light Vessel, in the Water, with a Load∣stone in it, and offer to the North Pole of that Stone the same Pole of another Magnet which we keep in our Hands, we presently perceive that the former Load-stone flies back, as though it were driven by a violent Wind. 'Tis requir'd to discover the Cause of that Effect.

'Tis plain that to render a Reason of the Motion of that Load-stone, it is not sufficient to know the Relations it has to the other; for we might perfectly know them all, and yet not understand how two Bodies could repel each other without meeting.

We must therefore examine what are the Things which we distinctly conceive capable, accord∣ing to the Course of Nature, of moving Bodies; for 'tis requir'd to find out the natural Cause of the Motion of a Load-stone, which is certainly a Body. And therefore we must not have re∣course to any Quality, Form, or Being, which by a clear Knowledge we cannot conceive capable of moving Bodies; neither must we ascribe their Effect to an understanding Agent, since we are not assur'd that Intelligences are the ordinary Causes of the natural Motions of Bodies, and know not so much as whether they can produce Motion.

We plainly know that it is a natural Law, that Bodies should move each other when they meet: We must then endeavour to explain the Motion of the Load-stone, by the Means of some

concurrent Body. 'Tis true that something besides a Body may move it; but as long as we have no distinct Idea of that Thing, we must not admit it as a proper Means to discover what is search∣ed after, nor to explain it to others; for to contrive a Cause which none clearly conceives, is not to give account of an Effect. We must not then trouble our selves to enquire whether there is, or is not any other natural Cause of the Motion of Bodies, besides the mutual Impulse; but rather suppose that there is none, and attentively consider what Bodies may meet with, and move that Load-stone.

We presently see that it is not mov'd by the Magnet we keep in our Hands, since it touches it not; but because 'tis mov'd only when that Magnet is brought near it, and that it moves not of it self▪ we must infer that it is mov'd by some small Effluviums, or little Bodies, that proceed from that Magnet, and are driven to the other Load-stone.

To discover those Corpuscles, we must not open our Eyes, nor nearly consider that Magnet; for our Senses might impose upon our Reason, and make us judge that nothing proceeds out of it, because we perceive it not. Perhaps we should not reflect that we see not the most impetuous Winds, nor several other Bodies that produce very surprizing Effects: We must then keep close to that clear and intelligible Means, and carefully examine all the Effects of a Load-stone, to disco∣ver how that Magnet may continually vent so many little Bodies, without diminishing; for the Experiments we shall make will discover, that the small Particles that evaporate at one side, im∣mediately re-enter through another; and will serve to explain all the Difficulties that may be ob∣jected against the Method of solving this Question. But it must be observ'd, that this Medium must not be forsaken, though we should not be able to answer some Objections proceeding from our Ignorance in several things.

If we desire not to examine why Load-stones remove from each other when their Poles of the same Name are in Opposition to each other, but rather why they approach and endeavour to unite together when the North Pole of one is opposite to the South Pole of the other, the Question will be more difficult, and one Medium alone will not be sufficient to resolve it; for it is not enough exactly to know the Relations betwixt the Poles of those two Load-stones, nor to have recourse to the Medium propos'd in the fore-going Question; for that Means seems only fit to hinder the Ef∣fect, whereof the Cause is sought for: Neither must we propose any of those Things that are not clearly known to be the natural and ordinary Causes of Corporeal Motion; nor evade the Diffi∣culty of the Question, by the rambling and uncertain Notion of an Occult Quality in Load-stones, by which they attract each other; for the Mind cannot conceive any such Attraction in Bodies.

The Impenetrability of Bodies plainly convinces us, that Motion may be communicated by Im∣pulsion; and Experience evidently proves, that it is communicated that way: But there is no Rea∣son, nor Experiment, that clearly demonstrates the Motion of Attraction; for when the true and certain Cause of the Experiments, which are alledg'd to prove that sort of Motion, is found out, it is visible that what appear'd to be done by Attraction, is produc'd by Impulsion. We must not therefore insist upon any other Communication of Motion but that effected by Impulsion, since this Way is sure, and undeniable; whereas all the others imaginable have at least some Obscurity in them. But though it might be demonstrated, that mere Corporeal Things have some other Prin∣ciples of Motion besides the Concourse of Bodies, this might not however be reasonably rejected, but must rather be insisted upon preferably to all others, it being the most clear, and most evident; and appearing so undeniable, that we may confidently assert, that it has always been receiv'd by all Nations and Ages in the World.

Experience shews, that a Load-stone, freely swimming upon the Water, draws towards that which we keep in our Hands when their different Poles are opposite to each other; we must then conclude, that the Load-stone upon the Water is driven to it. But as the Magnet we hold cannot drive the other, seeing this other approaches it, and that the free Load-stone only moves at the Pre∣sence of the other Magnet, 'tis plain that to resolve this Question by the receiv'd Principle of the Communication of Motions, we must have recourse to two Means at least.

[illustration]

The Load-stone c approaches the Magnet C, and therefore the surrounding Air drives it, since no other Body can do it; that's the first Means. The Load-stone c moves not, except at the Presence of the Magnet C; and therefore the Magnet C must needs determine the Air, to drive the Load-stone c; that's the second Means. 'Tis evident these two Means are absolutely necessary: So that now the whole Difficulty consists in joining those two Means together; which may be done two several Ways; either beginning by something known in the Air, that encompasses the Load-stone c; or by some∣thing known in the Magnet C.

If we know that the Parts of the Air are in per∣petual Agitation, as those of all fluid Bodies use to be, we shall not doubt but they continually strike against the Load-stone c, which they sur∣round; but because they strike it equally on all sides, they impel it one way no more than another,

as long as there is an equal Quantity of Air on all sides. It being so, 'tis easie to judge that the Magnet C hinders, lest there should be as much Air towards a as towards b, which cannot be done but by its diffusing some other Corpuscles betwixt C and c, and therefore there ex••ale such Particles ou•• of both Load-stones, which filling up that Space, and carrying away the Air about a, make the Load-stone c less press'd on that side than on the other; and it must by consequence approach the Magnet C, since all Bodies move towards the side on which there is the least Pressure or Re∣sistance.

But if in the Load-stone c, about the Pole a, there were not many Pores fit to receive the small Particles streaming out of the Pole B of the Magnet C, and too small to admit those of the Air, 'tis plain that those small Particles being more agitated than the Air, since they are to chase it from betwixt the Load-stones, they would drive the Load-stone c, and remove it from the Mag∣net C: Therefore, since the Load-stone c approaches to, or removes from the Magnet C, accord∣ing as they are oppos'd by different or the same Poles, we must needs infer that the Poles a and b of the Load-stone c are full of different Pores; otherwise, the small Particles issuing out of the Magnet C could not have a free Passage, without impelling the Load-stone c at the side a, nor would they repel it at the side b. What I say of one of these Load-stones, must be understood of the other.

'Tis plain that we always learn something by that Method of Arguing from clear Ideas, and un∣deniable Principles: For we have discover'd that the Air which environs the Load-stone c, was driven from thence by Corpuscles perpetually flowing out of the Pores of both Load-stones; which Corpuscles find a free Passage at one side, but are shut out at the other. If we desir'd nearly to discover the Bigness and Figure of the Pores of the Load-stone through which those Particles pass, we ought to make other Experiments; but that would lead us to Subjects which we intend not to trea•• of. The Curious may consult des Cartes's Principles of Philosophy: I only observe, as an Answer to an Objection which will presently be made against this Hypothesis; that is, Why those small Particles cannot re-enter through the Pores from whence they came? That besides that the Pores of the Load-stones may be suppos'd to be wrought like the Channelling of a Screw, which may pruduce the propos'd Effect; it may be said likewise, that the small Branches, of which those Pores are made, bend one way to obey and yield to the Motion of the entring Particles; whereas they stand on end, and shut them out another way: So that we must not be surpriz'd at this Dif∣ference betwixt the Pores of the Load-stone, for it may be explain'd in several manners, and the only Difficulty consists in chusing the best.

If we had endeavour'd to resolve the fore-mention'd Question, beginning with the Corpuscles that are suppos'd to stream out of the Magnet C, we should have found the same; and likewise discover'd that Air is compos'd of an infinite Number of Parts that are in a perpetual Motion, with∣out which it would be impossible that the Load-stone c could approach the Magnet C. I insist not on the Explication of this, because there is no Difficulty in it.

Here follows a Question more compound and complicate than the fore-going; for the Solution of which, 'tis necessary to make use of many Rules. 'Tis ask'd, Which may be the Natural and Mechanical Cause of the Motion of our Members.

The Idea of Natural Cause is clear and distinct when understood, as I have explain'd it in the former Question: But the Words, Motion of our Members, are equivocal and confus'd, because there are several such Motions; some being Voluntary, others Natural, and others Convulsive. There are also different Members in the Humane Body; and therefore, according to the first Rule, I must ask, Of which of these Motions the Cause is requir'd from me? But if the Question be left undetermin'd, and to my Discretion, I examine it after this manner.

I attentively consider the Properties of those Motions; and discovering at first that Voluntary Motions are sooner perform'd than Convulsive, I infer that their Cause is different, and therefore that I may and must examine the Question by Parts, for it seems to require a long Discussion.

I restrain then my self to consider only Voluntary Motions; and because several of our Members are employ'd about them, I content my self for the present with the Consideration of the Arm. I observe that it is compos'd of several Muscles, which are most or all in Action when we raise so••ething from the Ground, or remove it from one place to the other: But I only insist upon one, being willing to suppose that the others are very near fashion'd after the same manner. I inform my self of its Texture and Shape by some Book of Anatomy, or rather by the sensible Sight of its Fibres and Tendons, which I cause to be dissected in my presence, by some skilful Anatomist, to whom I put all the Queries which, in the sequel, may exhibit to my Mind a Medium to find out what I seek for.

After such a serious Consideration, I cannot doubt but the Principle of the Motion of my Arm depends on the Contraction of its Muscles which compose it. I am likewise content, lest I should puzzle my self with too many Difficulties, to suppose, according to the common Opinion, that this Contraction is perform'd by the Animal Spirits, which filling up the Ventricle of those Mus∣cles, may cause their Extremities to come nearer. Now the whole Question concerning Voluntary Motion is reduc'd to this Point; How the small Quantity of Animal Spirits which are contain'd in our Arm, may at the Command of the Will, so suddenly swell the Muscles, as to afford a sufficient Strength to list up an Hundred Weight, or more.

Upon an attentive Reflexion thereupon, the first Means that offers it self to the Imagination, is commonly that of a quick and violent Fermentation, like to that of Gun-powder, or of some Liquors fill'd with Volatile Salt, when they are mix'd with others that are Acid, or full of a

fixed Salt. A small quantity of Gun-powder is able, when kindled, to raise not only an Hun∣dred Weight, but even a Tower, and a Mountain. Earthquakes, that overthrow Cities, and shake whole Countries, proceed from Spirits kindling under the Ground, almost as Gun-powder▪ So that supposing in the Arm such a Cause of the Fermentation and Dilatation of the Spirits, it may be look'd upon as the Principle of that Force, by which Men perform so sudden and violent Motions.

But as we ought to mistrust those Means that are offer'd to the Mind by the Senses, and of which we have no clear and evident Knowledge, so we must not easily admit this; for it is not sufficient to give an Account of the Strength and Quickness of our Motions, by a Comparison: For this is both a confus'd, and imperfect Account; because we are here to explain a volunta∣ry Motion, and Fermentation is not so. The Blood is exceedingly fermented in Fevers, and we cannot hinder it: The Spirits are inflam'd and agitated in the Brain, but we cannot rule their Agitation, nor lessen it by our Desire. When a Man moves the Arm several Ways, a Thousand Fermentations, great and small, swift and ••low, ought to begin, and (what is harder to ex∣plain) to end likewise in a Moment, as often and as soon as it is desir'd, if this Hypothesis were true. Besides, Those Fermentations ought not to dissipate all their Matter, but need al∣ways be ready to take Fire. When a Man has walk'd Twenty Miles, how many Thousand times must the Muscles, employ'd in walking, have been fill'd and empty'd; and what a vast quantity of Spirits would be requir'd, if Fermentation should dissipate and deaden them so often? And therefore this Supposition is insufficient to explain such Motions of our Body as entirely depend upon our Will.

'Tis plain that the present Question may be reduc'd to this Problem of Mechanicks, To find ••ut by Pneumatick Engines a Means to overcome such a Force as an Hundred Weight by another Force, though never so small; as that of an Ounce Weight: And that the Application of that small Force may produce the desir'd Effect, at the Discretion of the Will. The Solution of that Problem is easie, and the Demonstration of it clear.

It may be solv'd by a Vessel which hath two Orifices, one of which is a little more than 1600 times larger than the other, in which the Pipes of two equal Bellows are inserted; and let a Force precisely 1600 times stronger than the other be apply'd to the Bellows of the larger Mouth, for then the Force 1600 times weaker shall overcome the stronger. The Demonstration of which is clear in Mechanicks, since the Forces are not exactly in a reciprocal Proportion with their Mouths; and that the Relation of the weaker Force to the smaller Mouth, is greater than the Relation of the stronger Force to the larger Mouth.

But to solve this Problem by an Engine which sets better before the Eyes the Effect of the Mus∣cles, than the Former: We must blow a little in a Foot-ball, and hinder the Air from going out with a Sucker; then put upon that Foot-ball, half full of Wind, a Stone of 5 or 600 weight; or having set it on a Table, lay on it a Board, and on that Board a huge Stone, or cause a heavy Man to sit upon the Board, allowing him to hold by something, that he may sit the faster upon the rising Foot-ball; for if you blow again into it only with the Mouth, it will raise the Stone that compresses it, or the Man that sits upon it. The Reason of this is, that the Mouth of the Foot-ball is so small, or at least must be suppos'd so, in comparison to the Capaciousness of the Foot-ball that withstands the Weight of the Stone, that by such means a very small, is able to over∣come a very great Force.

If we also consider that Breath alone is capable of violently driving a Leaden Ball through a long and strait Trunk, because the Strength of the Breath is not dissipated, but continually re∣new'd, it will visibly appear, that the necessary Proportion betwixt the Mouth and the largeness of the Foot-ball being suppos'd, Breath alone may overcome a very considerable Force.

If we therefore conceive that the whole Muscles, or each of the Fibres of which they are made, have, as this Foot-ball, a competent Capacity to admit Animal Spirits, that the Pores through which those Spirits flow are yet proportionably straiter than the Neck of a Bladder, or the Aper∣ture of the Foot-ball; that the Spirits are detain'd in, or driven through the Nerves, almost as the Breath through a Trunk; that the Spirits are more agitated than the Air of the Lungs, and dri∣ven with a greater Violence to the Muscles than it is in a Bladder; we shall perceive that the Mo∣tion of the Spirits which are dispers'd through the Muscles, can conquer the Force of the heaviest Weight we carry; and that if we cannot move other more ponderous, this Want of Strength pro∣ceeds not so much from the Spirits, as from the Fibres and Membranes of which the Muscles are compos'd, which would burst should we make too great an Effort. Besides, If we observe that by the Laws of the Union betwixt Soul and Body, the Motion of those Spirits, as to their Deter∣mination, depends on the Will of Man, we shall see that the Motion of the Arm must needs be vo∣luntary.

'Tis true that we move our Arm so readily, that it seems, at first sight, incredible that the Course of the Spirits into the Muscles should be so swift as to effect that Motion. But we ought to consider that those Spirits are extremely agitated, always ready to pass from one Muscle into another; and that a small quantity of that Spirituous Liquor may sufficiently swell them up, so as to move them, or to lift up from the Ground something very light: For we cannot raise great Weights very readily, because that Effort requires a great stretching and swelling of the Muscles, which cannot be perform'd by the Spirits that are in the neighbouring or Antagonist Muscles; and therefore some Time is requir'd to call in more Spirits to their help, and in such a Quantity, as that they may be able to withstand the Heaviness of the Weight. Thus we see that

those that are loaden cannot run, and that a ponderous thing is not lifted up from the Ground so readily as a Straw.

If we consider that those that are of a fiery Temper, or heated with Wine, are quicker than others; that amongst living Creatures, those whose Spirits are more agitated, as Birds, move swifter than those in which Blood is colder, as it is in Frogs; and that in some of them, as the Chamelion, the Tortoise, and some Insects, the Spirits are so little agitated, that their Muscles are not sooner fill'd than a Foot-ball would be by the Breath of a Man. All these things being well ob∣serv'd, may probably make our Explication acceptable.

But though that part of the Question propos'd which concerns Voluntary Motions be sufficient∣ly resolv'd, yet we must not assert that it is fully and perfectly, or that nothing else in our Body contributes to those Motions besides what has been mention'd; for most probably there are a Thou∣sand Springs that facilitate them, which will for ever be unknown, even to those who give a better Guess upon the Works of God.

The second Part of the Question to be examin'd concerns the Natural Motions, or those that have nothing extraordinary in them, as Convulsions have; but are absolutely necessary to the Pre∣servation of our Machine, and consequently altogether independent on our Will.

I first consider with all the possible Attention, what Motions have those Conditions, and whe∣ther they are perfectly alike: And as I quickly perceive that they are for the most part different from each other, lest I should perplex my self with too many things, I shall only insist upon the Motion of the Heart; which, of all the inward Parts, is the best known, and its Motions the most sensible. Whilst I examine its Construction, I observe two Things, amongst many others: First, That it is compos'd of Fibres, as the other Muscles: And Secondly, That there are two re∣markable Cavities in it: And therefore I judge that its Motion may be perform'd by means of the Animal Spirits, since it is a Muscle; and that the Blood ferments and dilates in it, since it has Cavities. The first of these Judgments is founded upon what I have said before: The second, upon the Heart's being much hotter than any other Parts of the Body; and that it diffuses Heat, together with Blood, into all our Members; and that those two Ventricles could neither be form'd, nor preserv'd, but by the Dilatation of the Blood: So that they are subservient to the Cause that has produc'd them. I can then give a sufficient Reason of the Motion of the Heart, by the Spirits that agitate, and the Blood that dilates it, during the Fermentation: For though the Cause I alledge of its Motion should not be true, yet I plainly see that it is sufficient to pro∣duce it.

It may be, that the Principle of Fermentation or Dilatation of Liquors is not so well known to all Readers, as that I may pretend to have explain'd an Effect, by generally shewing that it pro∣ceeds from Fermentation: But all particular Questions are not to be resolv'd by ascending to the first Cause, though that may be done too, and a true System on which all particular Effects depend, discover'd, provided we only insist upon clear Ideas. But that Way of Philosophizing is neither the exactest, nor yet the shortest.

To comprehend this, it must be observ'd that there are Questions of two sorts; in the first, it is requir'd to discover the Nature and Properties of some Thing; in the others, we only desire to know whether a Thing has such or such Properties; or if we know it has, we desire only to dis∣cover what is the Cause of them.

To solve the Questions of the first sort, we must consider Things in their Birth and Original, and conceive that they are always produc'd by the most simple and natural Ways: But the Solu∣tion of the others requires a very different Method, for they must be resolv'd by Suppositions; and then we must examine whether those Suppositions induce into any Absurdity, or whether they lead to any Truth plainly and clearly known.

For instance, We desire to discover the Properties of the Roulet, or some one of the Conick Sections: We must consider those Lines in their Generation, and form them by the most simple and least perplexing Ways; for that is the best and shortest Means to discover their Nature and Properties. We easily see that the Sub••endent of the Roulet is equal to the Circle whence it is form'd: And if we discover not many of its Properties that way, 'tis because the Circular Line that produces it is not sufficiently known. But as to Lines merely Mathematical, the Relations of which may be more clearly known, such as are Conick Sections; 'tis sufficient for the discover∣ing a vast Number of their Properties, to consider them in their Generation: Only we must ob∣serve, that as they may be produc'd by a Regular Motion several Ways, so all sorts of Generation are not equally proper to enlighten the Mind; that the most simple are the best; and that it of∣ten happens, notwithstanding that some particular Methods are fitter than others, to demonstrate some particular Properties.

But when it is not requir'd to discover in general the Properties of a Thing, but to know whe∣ther such a Thing has such a Property; then we must suppose that it actually enjoys it, and care∣fully examine the Consequences of that Supposition, whether it induces into a manifest Absurdi∣ty, or leads to an undeniable Truth, that may serve as a Means to find out what is sought for. That is the Method which Geometricians use to solve their Problems: They suppose what they seek, and examine what will follow of it; they attentively consider the Relations that result from the Supposition; they represent all those Relations that contain the Conditions of the Problem, by Equations, and then reduce those Equations, according to the usual Rules; so that what is unknown, is found equal to one or several Things perfectly known.

I say therefore, that when 'tis requir'd to discover in general the Nature of Fire, and of the dif∣ferent Fermentations, which are the most universal Causes of natural Effects, the shortest and su∣rest Way is to examine them in their Principle. We must consider the Formation of the most agi∣tated Bodies, the Motion of which is diffus'd into those that ferment. We must by clear Ideas, and by the most simple Ways, examine what Motion may produce in Matter. And because Fire and the various Fermentations are very general Things, and consequently depending upon few Causes, there will be no need of considering very long what Matter is able to perform when ani∣mated by Motion, to find out the Nature of Fermentation in its very Principle; and we shall learn withall several other Things, altogether requisite to the Knowledge of Physicks: Whereas he that would in such a Question argue from Suppositions, so as to ascend to the first Causes, even to the Laws of Nature, by which all things are form'd, would make a great many of them that should prove false and unprofitable.

He might perhaps discover that the Cause of the Fermentation is the Motion of an invisible Matter; communicated to the agitated Parts of Matter: For 'tis sufficiently known, that Fire and the various Fermentations of Bodies, consist in their Agitation; and that by the Laws of Nature, Bodies receive their immediate Motion only from their meeting with others that are more agita∣ted: So that he might discover that there is an invisible Matter, the Motion of which is commu∣nicated to visible Bodies by Fermentation. But 'tis morally impossible that he should ever, by his Suppositions find out how all that is perform'd; which however is not so hard to do, when we examine the Formation of Elements, or of Bodies, of which there is a greater Number of the same Nature; as is to be seen in Monsieur des Cartes's System.

The Third Part of the Question concerning Convulsive Motions, will not be very difficult to solve, if we suppose that there are in our Bodies Animal Spirits susceptible of Fermentation; and withall, Humours so piercing, as to insinuate themselves into the Pores of the Nerves, through which the Spirits are di••••us'd into the Muscles; provided always that we pretend not to determine the true Texture and Disposition of those invisible Parts that contribute to these Convulsions.

When we have separated a Muscle from the rest of the Body, and hold it by the two Ends, we sensibly perceive that it endeavours to contract it self when prick'd in the Middle. 'Tis likely that this depends on the Construction of the imperceptible Parts, of which it is made; which are as so many Springs determin'd to some certain Motions, by that of Compunction. But who can be sure he has found out the true Disposition of the Parts employ'd in the Production of that Mo∣tion; and who can give an uncontroverted Demonstration of it? Certainly that appears altogether impossible, though perhaps by long thinking we might imagine such a Construction of Muscles, as would be fit to perform all the Motions we know them to be capable of; we must not therefore pretend to determine the true Construction of the Muscles. However, because it cannot be rea∣sonably doubted, but that there are Spirits susceptible of some Fermentation, by the Mixture of a very subtile heterogeneous Matter; and that acriminious and pungent Humours may creep into the Nerves, that Hypothesis may be suppos'd.

Now to proceed to the Solution of the Question propos'd: We must first examine how many sorts of Convulsive Motions there are; and because their Number is indefinite, we must insist on the Principal, the Causes of which seem to be different: We must consider in what Parts they are made, what Diseases precede and follow them; whether they are attended with Pain, or free from it; and above all, what are the Degrees of their Swiftness and Violence; for some are ve∣ry swift and violent; others are very swift, but not violent; a third sort are violent, and not swift; and others again are free from both these Symptoms: Some finish and begin afresh perpetually, others keep the Parts rigid and unmoveable for some time; and others deprive us of their Use, and altogether deform them.

All this being well weigh'd, it will be no hard matter to explain in general, after what has been said concerning Natural and Voluntary Motions, how the Convulsive are perform'd: For if we conceive that some Matter, capable of fermenting the Spirits, mixes with those contain'd in a Muscle, it must needs swell up, and produce in that part a Convulsive Motion.

If that Motion may easily be resisted, 'tis a sign that the Nerves are not yet obstructed by any Humour, since we may empty the Muscle of the Spirits that have enter'd into it, and determine them to swell up the opposite Muscle. But if we cannot do it, we must conclude that pungent and piercing Humours have some part at least in that Motion: Even it may often happen that those Humours are the only Cause of Convulsions, since they may determine the Course of the Spirits to some certain Muscles, by opening some Passages that convey them, and shutting others: Be∣sides, that they may contract the Tendons and Fibres, by penetrating their Pores.

When a very ponderous Weight hangs at the end of a Rope, it may considerably be rais'd by only wetting that Cord; because the Particles of Water penetrating as so many little Wedges be∣twixt the Threads of the Rope, shorten it by dilating it: So the piercing and pungent Humours, insinuating into the Pores of the Nerves, contract them, stretch the Parts to which they are tied, and produce in the Body Convulsive Motions, that are extremely slow, violent and painful, and and often leave the Part sadly distorted for a long time.

As to the Convulsive Motions that are very swift, they are caus'd by the Spirits; but it is not necessary that those Spirits should receive any Fermentation; 'tis enough that the Conduits, through which they pass, be more open at one side than at the other.

When all the Parts of the Body are in their natural Situation, the Animal Spirits diffuse them∣selves equally and readily through them, according to the Necessities of the Machine, and faith∣fully perform the Orders of the Will. But when Humours disturb the Disposition of the Brain, alter or variously move the Apertures of the Nerves, or penetrate into the Muscles, they agitate their Springs; and the Spirits diffusing into those Parts after a new and unusual manner, produce extraordinary Motions, without the Consent of the Will.

However, we may often, by a strong Resistance, hinder some of those Motions, and insensi∣bly diminish the Traces that produce them, even when the Habit is wholly form'd. Those that look carefully to themselves, find little Difficulty in preventing Grimaces, unbecoming Gestures, and a sourish Countenance, though their Body have a Disposition to them; and may even con∣quer them when strengthen'd by Habit, but with a great deal more Difficulty; for such Disposi∣tions should always be oppos'd in their Birth, and before the Spirits have traced out a Way not easie to be stopp'd up.

The Cause of those Motions is often in the agitated Muscle, and proceeds from some pungent Humour, or fermenting Spirits; but we must judge that it is in the Brain, especially when the Convulsions agitate not one or two parts of the Body, but most or all; and withall, in several Diseases which alter the natural Constitution of the Blood and Spirits.

'Tis true, that one Nerve often having different Branches, which disperse through Parts of the Body very remote, as into the Face and Bowels, it sometimes happens that a Convulsion, the Cause of which lies in a Part to which some one of those Branches resorts, may have Communi∣cation with those to which other Branches reach, without proceeding from the Brain, and with∣out a Corruption of the Spirits.

But when the Convulsive Motions are common to most Parts of the Body, we must needs say, either that the Spirits ferment in a very extraordinary manner, or that the Order and Disposition of the Parts of the Brain is disturb'd, or that it proceeds from both Causes together. I shall not insist any longer upon this Question, because it grows so compound, and depending on so many things, when we enter into Particulars, that it cannot easily be made serviceable to a clear Expli∣cation of the Rules we have given.

There is no Science which may supply us with more Examples, to shew the Usefulness of those Rules, than Geometry, and especially Algebra, since these two Sciences make a perpetual Use of them. Geometry plainly discovers the Necessity always to begin with the most simple Things, and which include the least Number of Relations: It always examines those Relations by Measures that are clearly known; it takes off whatever is unserviceable to discover them; it divides into Parts Compound Questions, disposes those Parts, and examines them in order. In short, The on∣ly Fault to be found in this Science is, as I have observ'd elsewhere, that it affords no conve∣nient Means to abridge Ideas, and discover'd Relations: So that though it regulates the Imagina∣tion, and makes the Mind exact; yet it increases not its Extent very much, neither does it give a Capacity to discover very compound Truths.

But Algebra, continually teaching to abridge, and in the shortest Way imaginable, Ideas and their Relations, extremely improves the Capacity of the Mind; for nothing so compound can be conce••v'd in the Relations of Magnitudes, but the Mind may discover it in time by the Means it affords, when we know the Way that ought to be taken.

The fifth Rule, and the following, which speak of the Method of abridging Ideas, concern on∣ly that Science, for none else has a convenient Way of abridging them; so that I shall not insist upon their Explication. Those who have a great Inclination for Mathematicks, and desire to give their Mind all the Force and Extent it is capable of, and to put themselves into a State of disco∣vering, without a Tutor, an infinite Number of new Truths, will perceive, if they earnestly ap∣ply themselves to Algebra, that the Usefulness of that Science, as to the Enquiry after Truth, proceeds from its observing the Rules we have prescrib'd. But I must advertise, that by Algebra, I especially understand that which des Cartes and some others have made use of.

Before the Conclusion of this Book, I shall set down an Example somewhat at large, to shew the Usefulness of the whole Treatise: I shall represent by it the Advances of a Man who, in the Discussion of an important Question, endeavours to free himself from Prejudices; I shall at first make him fall into some Faults, that they may excite the Remembrance of what has been said else∣where: But at last, his Attention leading him to the Truth enquir'd after, I induce him speaking positively, and as one who pretends to have solv'd the Question he examin'd.

CHAP. IX.

The last Instance to shew the Vsefulness of this Treatise, wherein the Cause of the Vnion of Parts in Bodies, and withall, the Rules of the Communica∣tion of Motion, are examin'd.

BOdies are united together three different Ways, by Continuity, Contiguity, and in a third man∣ner, that has no particular Name; because it seldom happens, I shall call it by the general Term of Union.

By Continuity, or by the Causes of it, I understand somewhat or other which causes the Parts of a Body to hold so strongly together, that we must use violence to separate them; for which Reason they are look'd upon as a Whole.

By Contiguity I understand that, whatever it is, which makes me judge that two Bodies touch one another immediately, so as that there is nothing betwixt them; though I judge not that they are strictly united, because I may easily separate them.

By the third Word, Union, I understand something or other which makes two Glasses, or two Marble-Stones, whose surfaces are well rub'd and polished upon each other, to adhere together, so as that though they can easily be separated, by making them glide over one another, yet we find some resistance when we endeavour to do it in another manner.

Now these two united Glasses, or Marble-stones, cannot be said to be continuous, because they are not conceived as a Whole, since they may easily be separated some certain way. Neither is this a Contiguity, though it be something very like it, because those two pieces of Glass, or Mar∣ble, are strictly enough united, and even more than the Parts of soft and liquid Bodies, as those of Butter and Water.

These Words being thus explained, we must now enquire after the Cause that unites Bodies, and the difference betwixt Continuity, Contiguity, and the Union of Bodies, taken in this particu∣lar Sense: I shall first seek the cause of Continuity, or that, I don't know what, which unites the Parts of a Body, and links them so strictly together, that violence must be used to separate them, and that they are look'd upon as making together but one Whole. I hope that this Cause being found out, it will prove no hard task to discover the rest.

It seems now necessary to me, that this, I don't know what, which binds even the smallest Parts of that piece of Iron I hold in my Hands, should be something very powerful, since I must use a very great Force to break off a small Part of it. But am not I extremely mistaken, for may not that difficulty I find in breaking the least piece of this Iron, come from my Weakness, and not from the Resistance of the Iron? And indeed, I remember, I have formerly used a greater vio∣lence than I now do, to break a piece of Iron like this; and if I fell sick, it might happen that my utmost endeavours could not perform it. I see therefore that I must not judge absolutely of the firmness with which the Parts of Iron are joyned together, by the endeavours I make to dis-unite them, but only judge that they stick very strictly to each other in relation to my little Strength, or that they hang more firmly together than the Parts of my Flesh; since the Sense of Pain I feel in using too much Force advertises me, I shall sooner disunite the Parts of my Bo∣dy, than those of the Iron.

Thence I conclude, That as I am not absolutely strong nor weak, so Iron and other Bodies are not absolutely hard or flexible; but only in reference to the Cause that acts upon them. And that my Endeavours cannot be a Rule to measure the Degrees of Force, that must be used to overcome the Resistance and Hardness of Iron; since Rules must be unvariable; whereas those Endeavours vary, according to the Time, the plenty of Animal Spirits, and the Hardness of Flesh; for, af∣ter all, I cannot always produce the same Effects by the same Endeavours.

This Consideration frees me from a Prejudice, that made me imagine strong Bands to unite the Parts of Bodies, which Bands perhaps are not in being, and I hope it will not be unprofitable hereafter: for I am wonderfully apt to judge of all things with relation to my self, and to follow the Impressions of my Senses, of which I shall more carefully beware. But let us proceed.

Having thought some Time, and search'd with some Application, the Cause of this strict Union, without being able to discover it; I find my self inclin'd by my own natural Laziness, to judge, as several others do, that it is the Form of Bodies that preserves the Union betwixt their Parts, or the Friendship and Inclination they have for such as are alike to them: And to form other judge∣ments of like nature; nothing being more convenient than sometimes to suffer our selves to be se∣duc'd, and to become Learned on a sudden, with little Expence.

But I intend to believe nothing but what I know, nor to suffer my self to be cast down by my own Laziness, nor to yield to bare Glimpses. Let us therefore lay aside those Forms and Incli∣nations, of which we have no distinct and particular, but only confused and general Ideas, which methinks we only frame with reference to our Nature, and the Existence of which several Per∣sons, and perhaps whole Nations, do not own. But methinks I see the Cause of this strict Union of the Parts which make up hard Bodies, without admitting any thing in it, but what all the World grants; or at least, what all the World distinctly conceives to be possible. For every one distinctly conceives, that all Bodies are composed, or may be composed of small Parts: It may then be that some shall be crooked and branched, and be able, as many little Fetters, strongly to hold others; or that they shall be so intricated amongst each others Branches, that it will not be easie to disunite them.

I am so much the apter to yield to this Thought, as I see visible Parts of the gross Bodies, hold and bind one another this way. But I can scarce sufficiently mistrust my Prejudices and Impression of my Senses. I must therefore more strictly examine this Matter, and enquire after the Reason, why even the minutest and last solid Parts of Bodies, in short, even the Parts of every one of these little Bands, hang together: For they cannot be united by other smaller Bands; since I sup∣pose them to be solid. Or if I say they are united in that Manner, it will reasonably be ask'd, What unites these others together? and so in infinitum.

So that the Difficulty of the Question now is,

[illustration]

how the Parts of those little Fetters, or of those branched Parts, can be so strictly united as they are; A, for instance, with B, which I suppose to be Parts of a little Band: Or, which is the same thing, (Bodies being so much the more hard, as they are the more solid and less porous,) the Que∣stion at present is, to know how the Parts of a Co∣lumn being made of Matter without Pores, can be so strongly joined together, and compose a very hard Body; since it cannot be said that the Parts of this Column hang together by small Fetters; for being without Pores, they have no particular Figure.

I am again extremely apt to say, that this Column is hard by its Nature; or that the small Fetters, of which hard Bodies are made up, are Attoms, the Parts of which cannot be divided; as being the Essential and last Parts of Bodies, and essentially crooked, branched, or of a perplex'd Figure. But I freely own this is not solving the Difficulty, and that laying aside my Prejudices, and the Illusions of my Senses, I should be in the wrong, to have Recourse to an abstracted Form, and to embrace a Phantasm of Logick, for the Cause I enquire after. I mean, I should be in the wrong to conceive, as something real and distinct, the rambling or indefinite Idea of Nature or Essence; which expresses nothing but what is known to us; and so to take an abstracted universal Form for the Physical Cause of a real Effect: for there are Two things which I cannot too much mi∣strust. The first is, The Impression of my Senses; and the other, My Readiness to take abstract∣ed Natures, and general Ideas of Logick, for real and particular, by which two Principles of Er∣rour I remember to have been often seduc'd.

For to return to the Difficulty in hand; 'tis not possible to conceive how those little Fetters should be indivisible by their own Essence and Nature, nor consequently how they should be in∣flexible; since, on the contrary, I conceive them most divisible, nay, necessarily divisible by their own Essence and Nature. For the Part A is most certainly a Substance as well as B; and conse∣quently 'tis plain that A may exist without B, since Substances may exist without one another, otherwise they would be no Substances.

It cannot be said that A is no Substance; for 'tis plain that that is not a bare Mode, whereas every Being is either a Substance, or the Mode of a Substance. And therefore since A is not a Mode, it is a Substance, and may exist without B; and much more the Part A exists separately from B; so that this Fetter is divisible into A and B.

Moreover, if this Fetter were indivisible or crooked by its own Nature and Essence, there would happen a thing quite contrary to what we see by Experience; for not one Body could be broken. Let us suppose, as before, a Piece of Iron composed of many Fetters perplexed within one ano∣ther, and A a B b to be two of them; I say it will not be possible to disintangle them, and con∣sequently to break the Iron. For to break it, the Fetters that make it up must be bent, which however are supposed inflexible by their own Nature and Essence.

If they be not supposed inflexible, but only indivisible by their own Nature, the Supposition would be unserviceable for solving the Question. For then the Difficulty will be, Why those little Fetters obey not the Force that is used to bend a Bar of Iron? Neither must they be sup∣posed indivisible, if they be not supposed inflexible: For if the Parts of those Fetters could change their situation in reference to one another, 'tis visible that they might be separated; since there is no Reason why, if one part may be somewhat removed from the other, it could not be entirely re∣moved. And therefore whether these little Fetters are supposed indivisible or inflexible, the Que∣stion cannot be solved by that means: for if they be only supposed indivisible, a Piece of Iron must be broken without trouble; and if they be supposed inflexible, it will be impossible to break it; since the little Fetters that make up the Iron, being intricated within one another, it will be impossible to disintangle them. Let us therefore solve the Difficulty by clear and undeniable Principles, and find the Reason why that little Band has two Parts A B so firmly united to one another.

'Tis needful, I perceive, to divide the Subject of my Meditation into Parts, that I may examine it the more exactly, and with less Intention of Thought; since I could not at first, at a single view, and with the whole Attention I am capable of, discover what I enquired after. This I might have done at the beginning; for when the Subjects of our Meditation are somewhat abstruse, 'tis al∣ways the best way to consider them by parts, and not fruitlessly weary our selves with the vain Hopes of meeting happily with the Truth.

What I enquire after is, The Cause of the strict Union betwixt the minute Parts, that make up the little Fetter A B. Now I conceive only distinctly three Things that can be the Cause sought for, viz. The very Parts of that little Fetter, or the Will of the Author of Nature, or lastly invisi∣ble Bodies surrounding such little Bands. I might yet alledge, as the Cause of these things, the Form of Bodies, the Qualities of Hardness, or some occult Quality, the Sympathy betwixt Parts of the same Species, &c. but since I have no distinct Idea of those fine things, I neither must nor can ground my Reasonings thereupon: so that if I find not the Cause I search after, in those things of which I have distinct Ideas, I will not fruitlessly trouble my self with the Contemplation of

such rambling and general Notions of Logick; and shall forbear speaking of what I understand not. But let us examine the first of these things, that may be the Cause, why the Parts of that small Band are so firmly joined; viz. the very Parts of which it is made up.

When I only consider the Parts of which hard Bodies are composed, I am inclined to believe, That no * 1.58 Cement, which unites the Parts of that Fetter, can be imagin'd besides themselves and their own Rest: for of what Nature could it be? It cannot be a thing subsisting of it self, since all those minute Parts being Substances, for what Reason should they be united by other Substances but themselves? Neither can it be a Quality different from Rest; because there is no Quality more con∣trary to Motion, that may separate those Parts, but their own Rest: but besides Substances and their Qualities, we know not any other sorts of things.

'Tis true, that the Parts of hard Bodies remain united, as long as they are in Rest one by another; and that when they are once in Rest, they remain of themselves in the same state, as long as they can; but this is not what I enquire after, and I know not how too I came to mistake the Subject. I en∣deavour here to discover, why the Parts of hard Bodies have so great a strength, to remain in Rest one by another, that they withstand the Force that is used to move them.

* 1.59I might however answer my self, that every Body has truly Force of continuing fix'd in its pre∣sent state, and that this Force is equal whether in Motion or Rest: But that the Reason why the parts of hard Bodies remain in Rest by one another, and that we can † 1.60 difficultly move and sepa∣rate them, is our not imploying sufficient Motion to overpower the Rest. This is probable, but I am seeking Certainty, if it be to be found, and not bare Probability. And how can I know with Certainty, and Evidence, that each Body has this Force to continue in the state it's in, and that this Force is equal both as to Motion and Rest, since Matter on the contrary, seems indifferently passive to either, and altogether destitute of Force. Let us have recourse then with M. des Cartes to the Will of the Creatour, which is, it may be, that Force which Bodies seem to have in them∣selves, which is the second thing above mention'd, suppos'd capable of preserving the Parts of this little Fetter we speak of, so closely link'd to one another.

Certainly, 'tis possible that God may will every Body should remain in its present state, and that his Will should be the Force which unites their Parts to one another, as I otherwise know his Will to be the Moving Force which puts Bodies in Motion: For since Matter is incapable of moving it self, I have Reason, methinks, to conclude it is a Spirit, and even the Author of Nature, which puts it and preserves it in Motion, by preserving it successively in different places by his bare Will; in as much as an Almighty Being acts not with Instruments, and his Will is necessarily follow'd by Effects.

* 1.61I acknowledge then, it's possible that God may will that every thing remain in its present state, whether it be Motion or Rest, and that his Will may be the natural Power, which Bodies have of remaining in the state they once have obtain'd. And if so, we must like M. des Cartes, measure that Power, conclude what ought to be the Effects of it, and give Rules for the Force and Communica∣tion of Motions upon the Collision of different Bodies, in proportion to their Magnitude; since we have no other way of coming to the knowledge of that general and immutable Will of God, who makes the different Power these Bodies have of acting upon, and resisting one another, consist in their different Magnitude and Swiftness.

But however, I have no infallible proof that God wills by a positive Will, that Bodies remain in Rest, and one would think it sufficient for God to will the Existence of Matter, not only to cause it to exist, but to exist in Rest.

The case is not the same with Motion, since the Idea of a Matter mov'd, certainly includes two Powers to which it is related, viz. that which created, and also that which mov'd it. But the I∣dea of a Matter in Rest, includes only the Idea of a Power which has created it, whilst there is no necessity of any other Power to put it in Rest, since if we barely conceive Matter, without think∣ing on any Power, we shall necessarily conceive it in Rest. Thus it is I conceive things: for I am to judge by my Ideas; and my Ideas tell me, Rest is but the privation of Motion. For God need but cease to will the Motion of a Body; to make its Motion cease, and to cause it to Rest.

But I remember I have heard from many very ingenious Persons, that Motion seem'd to them as much the privation of Rest, as Rest the privation of Motion. And some will not doubt to af∣firm, for Reasons I can't comprehend, that Motion seems rather a privation than rest. I do not distinctly call to Mind the Reasons they alledge: however this ought to make me suspicious, lest my Ideas should be false. For though most Men say what they please upon Subjects that seem of little moment, yet I have Reason to believe the Persons I speak of, were pleas'd to speak what they thought: wherefore I must still examine my Ideas more carefully.

To me it seems a thing of undoubted Certainty, and the Gentlemen before mention'd won't deny it,* 1.62 that 'tis the Will of God which moves Bodies. The Force then which that Bowl I see in Mo∣tion has, is the Will of God that moves it; what now is God requir'd to do to stop it? Must he Will, by a positive Will, that it should Rest? or is it sufficient to cease to will its Motion? 'Tis plain, that if God but cease to will the Motion of this Bowl, the cessation of its Motion, and consequently Rest will succeed the cessation of the Will of God. For the Will of God, which was the Force that moved the Bowl, desisting, that Force desists, and the Bowl will be no longer mov'd. Therefore the cessation of the moving Force produces Rest: Rest then has no Force to cause it; but is a bare privation that supposes no positive Will in God. Thus we should admit in God a positive Will without any Reason or Necessity, if we ascribed to Bodies any Force to remain in Rest.

But to overthrow this Argument if possible, Let us now suppose a Bowl at Rest, as before we suppos'd it in Motion, what must God do in order to agitate it? Is it enough that he ceases to will its repose? if so, I have hitherto made no advance; for that Motion will be equally the privation of Rest, as Rest of Motion. I suppose then that God desists to will the Rest of this Bowl; but supposing it, I see it not put in Motion; and if any others do, I desire them to inform me with what degree of Motion it is carried. Certainly 'tis impossible it should be mov'd, or have any degree of Motion: and 'tis impossible to conceive any degree of Motion in it, barely from our conceiving that God ceases to will it should be at Rest; because it goes not with Motion as it does with Rest. Motions are infinitely various, and are susceptible of more and less; but Rest being no∣thing, one cannot differ from another. One and the same Bowl which moves twice as fast at one time as at another, has twice as much Force, or Motion, at one time as at another. But it can∣not be said that the same Bowl has Rest double at one time to its Rest at another.

There must therefore be a positive Will in God, to put a Bowl in Motion, or to give it such a Force as it may move it self with: But he need only cease to will it should be mov'd, to cause its Motion to desist; that is, to make it Rest. Just as to the creating a World, it is not enough that God cease to will its non-existence, unless he likewise positively will the manner it shall exist in. But in order to annihilate it, there is no need of God's willing it should not exist, since God cannot will Nothingness by a positive Will, but barely, that he cease to will its Being.

I consider not here Motion and Rest, according to their relative Capacity; (for 'tis manifest that resting Bodies have as real Relations to those about them, as Bodies in Motion) I only conceive that Bodies mov'd have a moving Force, and that others at Rest have no Force at all to persevere in it; because the Relations of mov'd to the circumambient Bodies, perpetually changing, they need a continual Force to produce these Changes; it being indeed nothing but these Changes, that cause all that Novelty we observe in Nature; but there is no need of Force to do nothing. When the Relation of a Body to those surrounding it is constantly the same, there is nothing done; and the Continuance of that Relation, I mean the Action of the Will of God, which preserves it, is not different from that which preserves the Body it self.

If it be true, as I conceive, That Rest is but the Privation of Motion, the least Motion, or that of the least Body mov'd, will include a greater Force or power than the Rest of the greatest Body; and so the least Force, and the least Body, suppos'd to be mov'd * 1.63 in a Vacuum, against another never so great and bulky, will be capable of moving it; since the largest Body at Rest will have no power of resisting the least Body that shall strike against it. Therefore the Resistance which is made by the Parts of hard Bodies, to hinder their Separation, necessarily proceeds from some∣thing else than their Repose.

But 'tis necessary to demonstrate by sensible Experiments, what we have been proving by abstract∣ed Reasonings, to see whether our Ideas comport with the Sensations we receive from Effects. For it often happens that such Reasonings deceive us, at least will not convince others, and especially such as are prejudiced to the contrary. M. Des Cartes's Authority has such an influence upon some Mens Reason, that unless we prove all imaginable ways, that great Man in an Errour, we cannot disabuse them. What I have said will be readily admitted by such as are not prepossess'd with a contrary Opinion; and I perceive that I shall even be blam'd by them, for proving things which seem to them indisputable: However, the Cartesians well deserve our endeavours to content them. The others may pass over this Discourse, if they think it tedious.

Here then are some Experiments which sensibly demonstrate that Rest has no power to resist Motion, and which consequently evince, that the Will of the Author of Nature, which constitutes the Power and Force every Body has to continue in its present state, respects not Rest, but Mo∣tion only; since Bodies consider'd in themselves have no Force at all.

We daily see great Ships, whilst floating in the Water, mov'd with little Bodies striking against them. From which Experience I conclude, notwithstanding all the subterfuges of Monsieur des Cartes and the Cartesians, that if these great Bodies were in a Vacuum, they might be moved with much greater facility, since the Reason of a Vessel's being mov'd in the Water with some difficulty, is the resistance the Water makes to the imparted Motion; which in a void space will not be found. Now that which manifestly shews that Water resists the Motion impressed on the Vessel, is the cessation of its Motion some time after the Impulsion, which certainly would not happen, did not the Vessel lose its Motion, by communicating it to the Water; or if the Water yielded to its passage without any opposition; or lastly, imparted to it some of its own Motion. Therefore since a Vessel agitated in the Water, ceases by degrees to move, 'tis an infallible sign that the Water, instead of forwarding, as Monsieur des Cartes pretends, withstands its Motion; and consequently it would be infinitely easier to move a great Body in a Vacuum than in Water, since there would be no resistance on the part of surrounding Bodies. 'Tis evident therefore, that Rest has no Force to resist Motion, and that the least Motion contains more Power and Force then the greatest Rest; or at least, that we ought not to measure the Force of Motion and Rest, by the Proportion we find between the Magnitude of Bodies in those two States, as Monsieur des Cartes has done.

'Tis true, there is some reason to believe that the Vessel is mov'd, whilst in the Water, by rea∣son of the continual change which happen in the watery parts about it, though to us it seems not to change its place: And this has been an inducement to M. Des Cartes and some Persons to

believe, that 'tis not the bare Force of the impelling Agent which makes it advance in Water; but that having before receiv'd a great deal of Motion from the little parts of the surrounding Liquid, which press it equally on all sides, this Motion is only determin'd by the adventitious Motion of the impelling Body; so that what moves a Body in Water, could not do it in a Va∣cuum. And thus it is that M. Des Cartes and his Followers defend the Rules of Motion they have given us.

Let us suppose, for Example, a Piece of Wood of a Foot square, plac'd in a liquid Body, all the little parts whereof act and move against it; and because they press it equally on all sides, as well towards A as B, the piece of Wood stirs neither one way nor another: Now if I drive ano∣ther Piece of Wood of half a Foot against the former, on the side A, I see it advance forward; hence I conclude, that it might be mov'd in a Vacuum with less Force than that of the Piece that drives it, for the foregoing Reasons. But the Persons I speak of deny it, and answer, that the rea∣son of the greater Piece's advancing, when urg'd by the little one, is, that the * 1.64 latter unable to move it singly, being joyn'd with the parts of the agitated Liquid, determines them to drive it by im∣parting some of their Motion to it. But 'tis manifest that by this Answer, the Piece of Wood, when once mov'd, could never diminish its Motion; but must, on the contrary, perpetually increase it. For according to this Answer, the Piece of Wood is more driven by the Water to the side of A than B, therefore it must perpetually proceed; and because this Impulsion is continual, its Mo∣tion must constantly increase. But, as I have said, the Water is so far from facilitating its Mo∣tion, that it continually resists it; which resistance still lessening it more and more, at last makes it altogether insensible.

But I am now to prove that the Piece of Wood which is equally push'd by the little parts of the encompassing Water, has no Motion or Force at all, capable of moving it, though it continually changes its immediate place; and the Surface of the Water round it is different at different times. For if it be so that a Body equally press'd on all sides, as a Piece of Wood, be destitute of Motion, undoubtedly that foreign Force that strikes against it, must communicate it, since at the time of this Force's urging it on, the Water resists, and insensibly dissipates the impress'd Motion, caus∣ing it, by little and little, at last to cease.

It is certain, at least to those I speak to, that there is no more Motion in Nature at one time than another; and that Bodies at rest cannot be put in Motion, but by the Collision of some agi∣tated Bodies, which communicate their Motion to them. Whence I conclude, that a Body, which I suppose created perfectly at Rest in the midst of Water, will never receive any degree of Motion, from the little parts of the Water which surround it, and which strike continually against it, provided their Force be equal on all sides; because all these little parts which dash e∣qually against it on all sides, rebounding again with their whole Motion, communicate none of it; and consequently this Body ought to be consider'd as at Rest, and without any moving Force, though it continually changes its Situation.

Now the proof I have for the rebounding of these little parts, together with their whole Mo∣tion, is this; That otherwise the Water which touches this Body, must grow very cold, or even congeal'd, and become almost as hard as the Wood upon its Surface, since the Motion of the watry parts ought to be equally diffus'd into the little parts of the Body they encompass.

But that I may accommodate my self to the Patrons of M. Des Cartes's Opinion, I am willing to grant that we ought not to consider a Vessel on the Water as at Rest. I grant likewise, that all the parts of the environing Water are ••ubservient to the new Motion imprinted by the Wa∣terman, though it be but too visible by the decrease of the Boat's Motion, that they resist it more on the side where it makes, than on the other whence it is driven: Notwithstanding which supposition, I say, that of all the Parts of Water in the River, according to M. Des Cartes, there are none which can promote the Motion of the Vessel, except those which immediately touch it on the side it is driven on. For * 1.65 according to that Philosopher, The Water being fluid, all the parts that go to its Composition, act not conjointly against the Body we would move; but only those which touching it, conjointly bear upon it. But those which conjointly bear upon the Vessel, and the Boat's-man together, are twenty times more inconsiderable than the Boat. 'Tis plain therefore, from the Explication given by M. Des Cartes in this Article, concerning the difficulty we find to break a Nail between our Fingers, that a little Body is capable of moving one much bigger than it self. For in short, our Hands are not so fluid as Water; and when we would break a Nail, there are more parts that act jointly in our hands, than in the Water which pushes a∣gainst a Vessel.

But here's a more sensible Experiment. Take a Plank well smooth'd, or any other very hard Plain, drive in it a Nail half way, and set this Plain in a somewhat inclining posture; then place a Bar of Iron an hundred times thicker than the Nail, an Inch or two above it, and letting it slide down, it will not break it. Mean time it is observable, that, according to Des Cartes, all the parts of the Bar, as being hard and solid, act jointly upon the Nail. If therefore there were no other C••ment than Rest to unite the parts of the Nail, the Bar of Iron being an hundred times big∣ger, ought by the Fifth Rule of M. Des Cartes, and according to Reason, communicate somewhat of its Motion to the part of the Nail it fell upon; that is, to break it, and pass on, even though this Bar should slide with a very gentle Motion. Therefore we must seek some other Cause than the Rest of Bodies, that makes them hard, and capable of resisting the violence that is offer'd to break them, since Rest has no Force to withstand Motion: And I am persuaded these Experien∣ces are sufficient to evince, that the abstracted Proofs we have given are not false.

We must then examine the third Thing we supposed before might be the cause of the strict Union found between the Parts of hard Bodies; namely, an invisible Matter which surrounds them; and which being rapidly mov'd, pushes most violently the external and internal Parts of these Bodies, and constringes them in such a manner as requires greater strength to separate them, than has that invisible and extremely agitated Matter.

Methinks I might reasonably conclude, that the Union of the constituent Parts of hard Bo∣dies depends on an invisible Matter which surrounds and compresses them, since the two other things, supposed possible Causes of this union, have been discover'd not to be truly so. For since I meet with Resistance in breaking a Piece of Iron, which Resistance proceeds not from the Iron, nor the Will of God, as I think I have proved, it must necessarily proceed from some invisible Matter, which can be no other than that which immediately surrounds and compresses it. Ne∣vertheless, I shall give some positive Proofs of this Opinion, after I have more largely explain'd it by some Instance.

Take a Globe of any hard Metal, which is hollow within, and divided in two Halfs, join them together with a little Bond of Wax at the place of their Union, and then extract the Air: these two half Globes will be so firmly join'd to one another, that two Teams of Horses fastned to the Rings on the opposite sides of the Globe, shall not separate them, provided they be large in proportion to the Number of Horses; when yet if the Air be suffer'd to enter, one Man shall separate them with a great deal of Ease. From this Experiment 'tis easie to conclude, that what united the two Hemispheres to one another, was the Pressure of the surrounding Air upon their outward and convex Surface, whilst there was no Compression in their concave and inward parts; so that the Action of the Horses which drew the two Hemispheres on either side, could not con∣quer the Resistance made by innumerable little Parts of Air, by their pressing these two Halfs: But the least Force is capable of dividing them when the Air entring in the Copper Globe, drives against the Concave and inward Surfaces, as much as the external Air presses against the outward and convex.

Take, on the contrary, the Bladder of a Carp, and put it in a Vessel from which the Air is pump'd: this Bladder being full of Air, will crack and burst, because then there is no exteriour Air to resist that within the Bladder. 'Tis likewise for the same Reason I have given of the first Experiment, that two Glass or Marble Plains, ground and polish'd upon one another, so cling toge∣ther, that Violence must be us'd to separate them one way; because the two parts of the Marble are press'd and constring'd by the external Air that surrounds them, and are not so strongly press'd by that between. I might produce infinite other Experiments to prove that the gross Air which surrounds Bodies strongly unites their Parts: But what I have said is enough to give a distinct Explication of my Thoughts upon the present Question.

I say then, that what causes the Parts of hard Bodies and the little Fetters before-mentioned to hang so closely united to each other, is, there being other little Bodies infinitely more agitated than the course Air we breath, which bear against them, and compress them; and that which makes it so hard to separate them, is not their Rest, but the Agitation of these little surround∣ing Bodies. So that that which resists Motion is not Rest, (this being but the Privation of it, and has no Force at all,) but some contrary Motion.

This simple Exposition of my Opinion perhaps seems reasonable; yet I foresee, that many Persons will not easily be induc'd to yield to it. Hard Bodies make so great Impression on the Senses when they strike us, or when we use Violence to break them, that we are inclin'd to be∣lieve their Parts more strictly united than they really are. And on the contrary, the little Bodies which I have said encompass them, and to which I have ascribed the Force of causing this Union, making no Impression on our Senses, seem too weak to produce so sensible an Effect.

But to take away this Prejudice, which bottoms on the Impressions of our Senses, and on the Difficulty we find to imagine Bodies more little and agitated than those we daily see; 'tis to be consider'd, that the Hardness of Bodies is not to be measur'd with relation to our Hands, or the Endeavours we are able to make, which are different at different times. For indeed, if the great∣est Force of Men be nothing in comparison with that of the subtle Matter, we should be much to blame to believe, that Diamonds, and the hardest Stones, cannot derive their Hardness from the Compression of those little rapid Bodies which environ them. Now we may visibly discover how inconsiderably weak is Humane Force, if it be consider'd that Man's Power of moving his Body in so many manners, proceeds from a very moderate Fermentation of the Blood, which some∣what agitates the smaller Parts of it, and so produces the Animal Spirits. For 'tis the Agitation of these Spirits, which makes the Strength of the Body, and gives us the Power of making those Endeavours which we groundlesly regard, as something great and mighty.

But it must be observ'd, that this Fermentation of our Blood, is but a small Communication of that subtle Matter's Motion we have been speaking of. For all the Fermentations of visible Bodies are nothing but Communications of Motion from the Invisible, since every Body receives its Agitation from some other. 'Tis not therefore to be wonder'd if our Force be not so great as that of the same subtle Matter we receive it from. But if our Blood fermented as much in our Heart as Gun-Powder ferments, and is agitated when Fire is put to it; that is, if our Blood re∣ceiv'd as great a Communication of Motion from the subtle Matter, as Gun-Powder receives, we might do extraordinary things with a great deal of Ease; as break a Bar of Iron, overturn an House, &c. provided we suppose a competent proportion between our Members and our Blood so violently agitated. We must therefore rid our selves of our Prejudice, and not, following the

Impression of our Senses, imagine that the Parts of hard Bodies are so strongly united to one ano∣ther, because of the Difficulty we find to break them.

But if moreover, we consider the Effects of Fire in Mines, the Gravity of Bodies, and seve∣ral other natural Effects, which have no other Cause then the Commotion of these insensible Corpuscles, as is prov'd by M. Des Cartes in many places of his Works, we shall manifestly dis∣cover, that it does not exceed their Force, to unite and bind together the Parts of hard Bodies so powerfully as we find them. For in short, I fear not to affirm, that a Cannon-Bullet, whose Motion seems so extraordinary, receives not the thousandth part of the Motion of the subtle Matter which surrounds it.

My Assertion will not be doubted of, if it be consider'd, First, That the Gun-Powder is not all inflam'd, nor at the same instant: Secondly, That though it were all on Fire in the self-same Mo∣ment, yet it floats a very short time, in the subtle Matter; and Bodies swimming but a little while in others, can receive no great Motion from them; as may be seen in Boats when riding in a Stream, which receive their Motion by degrees. Thirdly, and principally, That each part of the Powder can receive but a collateral Motion, which the subtle Matter yields to. For Water only communicates to the Vessel the direct Motion which is common to all the parts of it, which Mo∣tion is generally very inconsiderable in respect of the others.

I might still prove to M. Des Cartes's Followers, the Greatness of the subtle Matter's Motion, by the Motion of the Earth, and the Heaviness of Bodies; from whence might be drawn very certain and exact Proofs, if that were necessary to my Subject. But in order to have one suf∣ficient Proof of the violent Agitation of the subtle Matter, to which I ascribe the Hardness of Bodies, it suffices (without seeing Des Cartes's Works) to read attentively what I have written in the second Chapter of the fourth Book, towards the End.

Being now deliver'd from our Prejudices, which induc'd us to believe our Efforts very potent, and those of the subtle Matter which surrounds and constringes hard Bodies, very feeble; being likewise satisfied of the vehement Commotion of this Matter, by what has been said of Gun-Powder; 'twill be no hard Matter to discover, that 'tis absolutely necessary that this Matter, act∣ing infinitely more on the Surface, than the Inside of the hard Bodies it encompasses and com∣presses, should be the Cause of their Hardness, or of the Resistance we feel when we endeavour to break them.

But since there are always many Parts of this invisible Matter passing through the Pores of hard Bodies, they not only render them hard, as I have before explain'd; but are also the Causes that some are springing, and elastical, that others stand bent, and others still are Fluid and liquid; and in short are the Cause not only of the Force which the Parts of hard Bodies have to remain close by one another; but of that likewise which the parts of fluid Bodies have to separate; or, which is the same thing, are the Cause of the Hardness of some Bodies, and the Fluidity of others.

But whereas 'tis absolutely necessary to know distinctly the Physicks of M. Des Cartes, the Fi∣gure of his Elements, and of the parts which constitute particular Bodies, to account for the stiffness of some and the flexibility of others, I shall not insist upon explaining it. Such as have read the Works of that Philosopher, will easily imagine what may be the cause of these things; whereas it would be a difficult task for me to explain it; and those who are unaquainted with that Author would have a very confus'd Notion of the Reasons I might offer.

Nor shall I stand to resolve a vast number of Difficulties which I foresee will be urg'd against what I have been establishing, because if those who propose them have no knowledge of true na∣tural Philosophy, I should but tire and confound them instead of satisfying them. But if they were Men of Science, I could not answer them without a long train of diagrams and reason∣ing. Wherefore I think it best to intreat those who shall find any Difficulty in what I have said, to give this Discourse a more careful perusal; not doubting but if they read it and consider it as they ought, all their Objections will fall to the Ground. But after all, if they think my Request inconvenient, let them sit still, there being no great danger in the Ignorance of the Cause of the Hardness of Bodies.

I speak not here of contiguity: for 'tis manifest that contiguous things touch so little, that there's always a good quantity of subtle Matter passing between them, which endeavouring to continue its Motion in a right Line hinders them from uniting.

As to the union found between two Marbles that have been polish't one upon another, I have already explain'd it; and 'tis easie to see, that though the subtle Matter passes constantly between the two parts, as close as they are yet the Air cannot get in; and therefore 'tis that which compresses and constringes the two parts together, and makes them so difficult to be disunited, unless we glide them over one another.

For all this it is manifest that the Continuity, Contiguity and Union of two Marbles would be one and the same thing in a vacuum: for neither have we different Ideas of them, so that it would be to talk without understanding our selves to make them differ absolutely, and without any regard to the surrounding Bodies.

I now come to make some Reflexions upon M. Des Cartes's Opinion, and the Original of his Errour: I call his Opinion an Errour, because I can find no sincere way of defending what he has said upon the Rules of Motion, and the Cause of the Hardness of Bodies towards the end of the second Part of his Principles in several places; and that he seems to have evidently prov'd the Truth of the contrary Opinion.

This great Man most distinctly conceiving that Matter could not naturally move it self, but that the moving Force of all Bodies was nothing but the general Will of the Author of Nature; and that therefore the Communications of their Motion upon their mutual Collision, must come from the same Will, yielded to be carry'd away with this Notion, That the Rules of the different Communication of Motions must be fetch'd from the Proportion found between the different Mag∣nitudes of Colliding Bodies; it being impossible to penetrate into the Designs and Will of God. And whereas he concluded that every thing had the Force to persevere in its present State, whether it were in Motion, or Rest, because God, whose Will constituted this Force, acts always in the same manner; he inferr'd that Rest had an equal Force with Motion. Thus he measur'd the Ef∣fects of the Power of Rest by the Greatness of the Body it resided in, as well as those of Motion: And hence he gave the Rules of the Communication of Motion which are seen in his Principles, and the Cause of the Hardness of Bodies, which I have endeavour'd to refute.

'Tis a hard matter not to submit to the Opinion of Monsieur des Cartes, when we contemplate it on the same side: For, once more, since the Communication of Motions proceeds only from the Will of the Author of Nature, and that we see all Bodies continue in the State they have once been put in, whether it be Motion or Rest, it seems that we ought to seek for the Rules of the different Communications of Motion upon the Concourse of Bodies; not in the Will of God, which is un∣known to us; but in the Proportion that is found between the Magnitudes of these same Bodies.

I do not therefore admire that Monsieur des Cartes should light upon this Notion; but I only wonder he did not correct it, when having push'd on his Discoveries, he found out the Existence, and some Effects of the subtile Matter which surrounds all Bodies.

I am surpriz'd to find him, in the 132d Article of the Fourth Part, attribute the Elastick Force of certain Bodies to the subtile Matter, and yet not ascribe to it their Hardness, and the Resistance they make to our Endeavours to bend and break them; but only to the Rest of their Parts.* 1.66 For I think it evident, that the Cause of the Elasticity and Stiffness of some Bodies, is the same with that which impowers them to resist the Violence that is us'd to break them: For indeed, the Force which is employ'd in breaking a piece of Steel, has but an insensible Difference from that which is us'd to bend it.

I mean not to multiply Reasons here, which one might give for the proving these things; nor to answer some Difficulties possible to be urg'd about Bodies which are not sensibly springing, and yet are difficultly bent: For all these Difficulties vanish, if we consider that the subtile Matter cannot easily make new Tracks in Bodies which break in bending, as in Glass and temper'd Steel; which it can easier do in such Bodies as are compos'd of branchy Parts, and that are not brittle, as in Gold and Lead: And Lastly, that there is no hard Body; but has some kind of Elaterium.

'Tis a hard matter to persuade one's self that Monsieur des Cartes did positively believe the Cause of Hardness to be different from that which makes the Elasticity; and what looks most likely, is, that he made not sufficient Reflexion on that matter. When a Man has for a long time medita∣ted on any Subject, and is well satisfied about that of his present Enquiry, he commonly thinks no farther on it; he believes that the Conceptions he had of it are undeniable Truths, and that it is needless to examine them any more. But a Man has so many Things in him which disrelish his Application, provoke him to precipitate Judgments, and subject him to Errour, that though his Mind remains apparently satisfied, yet it is not always well instructed in the Truth. Monsieur des Cartes was a Man, like us: No greater Solidity, Accuracy, Extent, and Penetration of Thought is any where to be met with, than in his Works, I confess; but yet he was not infallible: There∣fore 'tis very probable he remain'd so settl'd in his Opinion, from his not sufficiently reflecting that he asserted something in the Consequence of his Principles, contrary to it. He grounded it on ve∣ry specious and probable Reasons; but such notwithstanding, as being not capable of themselves to force his Consent, he might still have suspended his Judgment; and consequently, as a Philo∣sopher, he ought to have done it. It was not enough to examine in a hard Body, what was in it that might make it so; but he ought likewise to have thought on the invisible Bodies, which might give it Hardness; as he did at the End of his Philosophical Principles, when he ascrib'd to them the Cause of their Elasticity: He ought to have made an exact Division, and comprehensive of whatever might contribute to the Hardness of Bodies. It was not enough to have sought the Causes of it in the Will of God; he ought also to have thought on the subtile Matter, which sur∣rounds these Bodies: For though the Existence of that violently agitated Matter was not yet pro∣ved in the place of his Principles where he speaks of Hardness; it was not however rejected; he ought therefore to have suspended his Judgment, and have well remember'd that what he had written concerning the Cause of Hardness, and of the Rules of Motion, was fit to be revis'd; which I believe was neglected by him; or at least, he has not sufficiently consider'd the true Rea∣son of a thing very easie to be discover'd, and which yet is of greatest Consequence in Natural Phi∣losophy. I thus explain my self:

Monsieur des Cartes well knew that to the Support of his System, (the Truth of which he could not reasonably suspect,) it was absolutely necessary that great Bodies should always communicate some of their Motion to the lesser which they met with; and that the latter should rebound at the Encounter of the former, without the like Loss of their own: For otherwise, the first Element would not have all the Motion that is necessary above the second, nor the second above the third; and so all his System would be absolutely false, as is manifest to those who have a little consider'd it. But in supposing that Rest has Force to resist Motion, and that a great Body in Rest cannot be mov'd by another less than it self, though most violently striking against it, 'tis plain that great

Bodies must have much less Motion than an equal Mass of little ones, since they may always by that Supposition communicate their own Motion, but cannot always receive any from the lesser. Thus this Supposition being not contrary to all that Monsieur des Cartes had laid down in his Prin∣ciples, from the beginning, to the Establishment of his Rules of Motion, and according very well with the Consequence of these same Principles, he thought the Rules of Motion, which he believ'd he had demonstrated in their Cause, were sufficiently confirm'd by their Effects.

I agree with Monsieur des Cartes in the Bottom of the Thing, that great Bodies communicate their Motion much easier than the lesser; and that therefore his first Element is more agitated than the second, and the second than the third; but the Cause is manifest without recourse to his Sup∣position. Little and fluid Bodies, as Water, Air, &c. can but communicate to any great ones an uniform Motion, which is common to all their Parts. The Water of a River can only communi∣cate to a Boat a descending Motion, which is common to all the little Parts the Water is compo∣sed of; each of which Particles, besides its common Motion, has infinite others, which are par∣ticular. Which Reason makes it evident that a Boat, for instance, cannot have so much Motion as an equal Volume of Water, since the Boat can only receive from the Water a direct Motion, and common to all the Parts of it. If twenty Parts of a fluid Body drive against any other Body on one side whilst there are as many urging it on the other, it remains immoveable; and all the Par∣ticles of the surrounding Fluid it swims in, rebound without losing any thing of their Motion. Therefore gross Bodies, whose Parts are united one to the other, can receive only a circular and uniform Motion from the Vortex of the encompassing subtile Matter.

This Reason seems sufficient to give us to understand why gross Bodies are not so much agita∣ted as little ones; and that it is not necessary to the explaining these things, to suppose any Force in Rest to resist Motion. The Certainty of Monsieur des Cartes's Philosophical Principles cannot therefore be of Use in proving or defending his Rules of Motion. And we have Reason to be∣lieve that if Monsieur des Cartes himself had, without Prepossession, examin'd his Principles afresh, at the same time weighing such Reasons as I have alledg'd, he would not have believ'd the Effects of Nature had corroborated his Rules; nor have fallen into a Contradiction, in attributing the Hardness of hard Bodies only to the Rest of their Parts, and their Elasticity to the Effort of the subtile Matter.

I now come to give the Rules of the Communication of Motion in a Vacuum, which follow up∣on what I have before establish'd concerning the Nature of Rest. Bodies being not hard in a Va∣cuum, since they are only so by the pressure of the subtile Matter that surrounds them, if two Bo∣dies meet together, they would flatten without rebounding: We must therefore suppose them hard by their own Nature, and not by the pressure of the subtile Matter, to give these Rules.

Rest having no Force to resist Motion, and many Bodies being to be consider'd but as one at the Instant of their Collision, 'tis plain they ought not to rebound, save when they are equal in their Bulk and Swiftness, or that their Swiftness compensates for the Want of Bulk, or their Bulk the Want of Swiftness. And 'tis easie from hence to conclude, that they ought in all other Cases so to communicate their Motion, as afterwards to proceed along together, with an equal Pace.

* 1.67 Wherefore, to know what ought to happen in all the different Suppositions of the Magnitude and Celerity of Colliding Bodies, we need only add together all the Degrees of Motion of two or more, which ought to be consider'd but as one in the Moment of their Concourse, and afterwards divide the Summ of the whole Motion proportionably to the Bulk of each respective Body.

Hence I conclude, that of the † 1.68 seven Rules of Motion, Monsieur des Cartes has given, the three first are good.

That the Fourth is false, and that B ought to communicate its Motion to C, in proportion to the bigness of the same C, and after go along in Company; so as if C be double to B, and B have three Degrees of Motion, it must give away two of them: For I have sufficiently prov'd, that Monsieur des Cartes ought not to have suppos'd in Rest, a Force to resist Motion.

That the Fifth is true.

That the Sixth is false, and that B ought to communicate half of its Motion to C.

And that the Seventh is false, and that B ought ever to communicate its Motion to C, in propor∣tion to the Magnitude and Motion of both B and C. But that if, according to the Supposition, C be double to B, and have three Degrees of Motion, whilst C has but two, they must proceed together in Company, C and B being but one Body at the time of their Collision; and therefore we must add together the Degrees of Swiftness, which are five, and afterwards divide them in proportion to their bigness, and so distribute 1 3/2 to B, and 3 ⅓ to C, which is double to B. But these Rules, though certain, from what I have said, are yet contrary to Experience, since we are not in a Vacuum.

The chief of those Experiences, which are contrary to what I have said about the Rules of Mo∣tion, is, the constant rebounding of hard Bodies, when they meet, one one way, and another an∣other; or at least, their not going in Company after their Encounter.

In Answer to which, we must call to mind what we have formerly said of the Cause of Elastici∣ty; namely, That there is a Matter, of a strangely-violent Motion, which continually passes into the Parts of hard Bodies, and makes them so by its compressing both their outward and inward Parts: For it will be easie from hence to see, that at the time of Percussion two encountring Bo∣dies drive and turn off the Current of this Matter from the places nearest to the stricken; which Matter resisting with great Violence, repells the two Bodies, which strike against each other, and restores its Passage, which the Percussion had stopp'd up.

That which more clearly still proves my Opinion is this, That if two Bowls of Lead, or of any other less Elastick Matter, meet, they rebound not after their Collision, but proceed almost ac∣cording to the Rules before establish'd, which they keep to so much more exactly as they are less springing. Bodies therefore rebound after their Percussion, because they are hard; that is, as I have explain'd, because there is an extremely agitated Matter, which compresses them, and which passing through their Pores with an extreme Violence, repel the Bodies which strike against them. But it ought to be suppos'd that the Percutient Bodies break not those which they dash against by a Motion over-powering the Resistance the little Parts of the subtile Matter are capable of making; as when we discharge a Musket against a piece of Wood.

'Tis true, the subtile Matter compresses soft Bodies, and passes with a rapid Course through their Pores, no less than through those of hard; and yet these soft Bodies have no Elasticity: The Rea∣son whereof is this; that the Matter passing through soft Bodies, can with a great deal of Ease open it self new Passages, by reason of the Minuteness of the Parts composing them, or of some other particular Configuration, proper for that Effect; which hard Bodies will not admit, by rea∣son of the Largeness and Situation of their Parts, which are contrary to the same.

Thus when a hard Body strikes another that is soft, it alters all the Roads the subtile Matter us'd to pass through, which is commonly visible; as in a Musket-Bullet, which flattens when it is smit∣ten. But when a hard Body strikes against another like it, it either makes none, or very few new Paths; and the subtile Matter in its Pores is oblig'd to return upon the same Ground, or else must repel the Body which blocks up its little Avenues.

Let A be a hard Body, B a soft one, C the Chanel

[illustration]

of the subtile Matter; I say, that if A strike B in the Point c, the Chanel Cc is shut up, and the subtile Mat∣ter finds out new Ways in the soft Body; and so ha∣ving an open Road, it repels not the striking Body, but the Body stricken changes its Figure, and batters it self a little: And it must be suppos'd, that in the least Body there are infinite Passages like Cc. But if the Bodies A and a are both of them hard, the Pas∣sage Cc is straiten'd; and the subtile Matter included in it continuing its Motion in a Right Line, for want of new Paths, repels the Body striking it so much more violently as it finds greater Difficulty in making a new Way; or else the Parts of the Body A break, and se∣parate from one another, and are reduc'd to Dust, or Pieces.

Lastly, It seems evident, that every mov'd Body, continually endeavouring to tend in a Right Line, and declining from it as little as is possible when it meets Resistance, ought never to rebound, since by that Motion it extremely deviates from a Right. 'Tis necessary therefore, either that Bodies should grow flat, or that the stronger should conquer the weaker, and make it bear it company: But because Bodies are springing, and hard, they cannot go in company, since if A pushes a, a repels A; and so they must recede from one another.

Notwithstanding, if two Bodies were in a Vacuum, though never so hard, they would go in company, because having no Body to surround them, they could have no Elastick Force, the Striker making no Resistance to the Striking; but Air, Gravitation, &c. resisting the great Motion which the striking Body gives the stricken, the stricken resists the striking, and hinders it from follow∣ing: For Experience teaches us, that Air and Gravity resist Motion; and that this Resistance is so much greater, as the Motion is more violent. 'Tis easie to discover from what I have been say∣ing, how it comes to pass, that in the Percussion of different Bodies, encompass'd with Air or Water, &c. sometimes the Smiting rebounds, sometimes communicates all its Motion, and re∣mains as it were unmoveable; and sometimes it follows the Smitten, but always with less De∣grees of Swiftness, if one or other of them be not perfectly soft: For all this depends on the Pro∣portion that is found between the Magnitude, the Hardness, and the Weight of one and the other, supposing them mov'd with an equal Swiftness: If they are very hard, the Smiting rebounds more, because the Elaterium is stronger. If the Smiting is very little, the Smitten very large and weigh∣ty, the Smiting rebounds still much, because of the Weight and the great Mass of Air surround∣ing the Smitten, which withstands the Motion. Last of all, If the Force of the Hardness is, as it were, abated by the little Volume of Air answering the Littleness of the stricken Body, or the contrary; it may happen that the Smiting may remain as immoveable after the Percussion. We need therefore but compare the Hardness of percutient Bodies, and the Air, which the Percuss'd ought to agitate anew at the time of Percussion, whereby to move, to give a pretty exact Con∣jecture concerning what must happen in the Percussion of different Bodies. I still suppose an equal Swiftness in the striking, for the Air more resists a great Motion than a little one; and there is as much Motion in a Body twice as little, as in another, when proceeding twice as fast as that other. Thus the Smitten being driven as fast again, may be consider'd as having a Volume of Air twice as big, to repel, in order to its moving.

But it ought still to be observ'd, that at the Moment of one Body's striking another, the Parts of this same Body have two contrary Motions; for those on the Fore-side have a backward Ten∣dency,

by reason of the Collision, when at the same time those behind tend forwards on the Ac∣count of the first Motion; and 'tis that Counter-motion which flattens soft Bodies, and is the Cause that some hard Bodies break in pieces; but when Bodies are very hard, this Counter-stroke, which vibrates some of the Parts, and makes a sort of Trepidation in them, as appears from the Sound they give, always produces some Changes in the Communication of Motion, which are very difficult to be known, for many Reasons; and 'tis, in my Mind, to little purpose to examine them in particular.

Would a Man meditate on all these things, I believe he would easily answer some Difficulties which might still be rais'd upon the Subject; but if I thought that what I have said were insuffi∣cient to shew that Rest has no Force to resist Motion, and that the Rules of the Communication of Motions, given by Monsieur des Cartes are in part false, I would here make out that it is impos∣sible by his Supposition to move our selves in the Air: And that which makes the Circulation of Motion in Fluid Bodies possible, without recurring to a Vacuum, is, that the first Element easily divides it self in several different manners, the Repose of its Parts having no Force to resist Motion.

The CONCLUSION of the Three last BOOKS.

I Have, if I mistake not, sufficiently shewn in the Fourth and Fifth Books, that Men's natural In∣clinations and Passions frequently occasion their falling into Errour; because they induce them more to a precipitate Judgment, than a careful Examination of Things.

I have shewn in the Fourth Book, that our Inclination for Good in general, is the Cause of the Restlesness of the Will; that this Restlesness of the Will puts the Mind in continual Agitation; and that a Mind continually agitated, is utterly unfit for the Discovery of any the least intricate and hidden Truths: That the Love of new and extraordinary Things frequently prepossesses us in their behalf; and that whatever bears the Character of Infinite, is capable of confounding our Ima∣gination, and mis-leading us. I have explain'd how our Inclination for Greatness, Elevation and Independency insensibly engage us in a falsly-pretended Learning, or in the Study of all vain and useless Sciences, which flatter the secret Pride of our Heart; because this is what recommends us to the Admiration of the Vulgar. I have shewn, that the Inclination for Pleasures constantly throws off the View of the Mind from the Consideration of abstracted Truths, which are the most simple and exuberant; and permits it not to consider any thing, with a competent Attention and Impartiality, to judge well of it: That Pleasures being the Modes of our Souls Existence, they necessarily divide the Capacity of the Mind; and that a Mind thus divided, cannot fully compre∣hend a Subject of any great Extent. Last of all, I have made appear, that the Relation and Natu∣ral Union we have to all those with whom we live and converse, is the Occasion of many Errours we fall into, and of our communicating them to others, as others communicate to us the same they were engag'd in.

In the Fifth, where I have endeavour'd to give some Idea of our Passions, I have, I think, made it sufficiently evident, that they were ordain'd to unite us to all things sensible; and to give us, as we are among them, a due and necessary Disposition for their Preservation and our own: That as our Senses unite us to our Body, and expand our Soul into all the composing Parts of it; so our Commotions carry us, as it were, out of our selves, and diffuse us upon all things round about us: That, Lastly, they incessantly represent things, not as they are in themselves, whereby we may form true Judgments; but according to the Relation they have to us, whereby to form Judg∣ments useful to the Preservation of our Being, and of those to whom we are either naturally or voluntarily united.

After having attempted the Discovery of Errours in their Causes, and the Deliverance of the Mind from the Prejudices it is subject to, I thought it was time at last to prepare it for the Search of Truth. Wherefore, in the Sixth Book, I have explain'd the Means which I thought most na∣tural for the increasing the Attention, and enlarging the Capacity of the Mind, by shewing the Use that might be made of its Senses, its Passions, and Imagination, to the giving it all the Force and Penetration it is capable of. After which, I have establish'd certain Rules, which must of ne∣cessity be observ'd for the Discovery of any Truth whatever: I have explain'd them by many Ex∣amples, that I might make them more sensible; and have chosen those which I thought most use∣ful, or that included more fecund and general Truths; that they might be read with greater Ap∣plication, and be made more sensible and familiar.

Possibly it may be acknowledg'd, by this Essay of Method which I have given, how necessary it is to reason only about clear and evident Ideas, and in which we are inwardly convinc'd that all Nations do agree; and never to proceed to Compound Things, till having sufficiently examin'd the Simple, whereon they depend.

And if it be consider'd that Aristotle and his Followers have not observ'd the Rules I have ex∣plain'd, as we ought to be assur'd by the Reasons I have alledg'd, and by the Correspondence that may be had with the most zealous Defenders of that Philosopher, it may be we shall despise his Doctrine, in spight of all the Impressions which persuade such as give way to be amuz'd by Words they do not understand.

But if we take notice of the manner of Monsieur des Cartes's Philosophizing, we cannot doubt of the Solidity of his Philosophy: For I have sufficiently shewn that he reasons but upon distinct and evident Ideas; beginning with most Simple Things, and afterwards passing on to the more Compound, which depend on them. Those who shall read the Works of that Learned Man, will have plenary Conviction of what I say of him, provided they read them with all the Application that is necessary to understand them: And they will feel a secret Joy, for being born in an Age and Country so fortunate, as to free them from the Trouble of seeking a Master to teach them Truth, among the past Ages of the Heathens; and in the Extremities of the Earth, among Bar∣barians and Strangers.

But as we ought not to be very sollicitous to know the Opinions of Men, even though we were otherwise assur'd they had found out Truth; so I should be very sorry if the Esteem I manifest for Monsieur des Cartes should prepossess any Man in his behalf, and make him sit down satisfy'd with reading and retaining his Opinions, without caring to be enlighten'd with the Light of Truth. This would be preferring Man before GOD, and consulting him in God's stead; and acquiescing in the obscure Answers of a Philosopher, which do not enlighten us, to avoid the Trouble of In∣terrogating by our Meditation Him who answers and enlightens us both together.

'Tis a mean and unworthy thing to become the Partizan of any Sect, and to look upon the Au∣thors of it as infallible. And thus Monsieur des Cartes, chusing rather to make Men Disciples of Truth, than Opinionated Followers of his Sentiments, expressly forewarns them, Not to take any thing he writes upon Trust, and to embrace nothing but what the Force and Evidence of Reason should constrain them to believe. He desires not, like some Philosophers, to be credited upon his Word: He ever remembers that he is a Man; and that disseminating his Light but by Reflexion, he ought to direct the Minds of those who would be illuminated by him, towards Him alone who can make them more perfect by the Gift of Understanding.

The principal Advantage that can be made of Application to Study, is, the rendring the Mind more accurate, more illuminated, more penetrating, and fit for the Discovery of all the Truths we desire to know. But such as read the Philosophers, with Design of remembring their Opinions, and factoring them to others, approach not Him who is the Life and Nourishment of the Soul: Their Mind grows blind and enervate, by their Commerce with such as can neither strengthen nor enlighten them: They are swell'd up with a spurious sort of Learning, the Weight whereof over∣whelms, and the Glittering blinds them; and fancying to themselves they are hugely learn••d when their Heads are cramm'd with the Opinions of the Antients, they forget that they become their Disciples who, St. Paul says, became Fools by usurping the Name of Wise. Dicentes se esse Sa∣pientes, stulti facti sunt.

The Method I have given will, if I mistake not, be highly advantageous to those who desire to make use of their Reason, or to receive of God the Answers he gives all those who can faithful∣ly consult Him: For I think I have said what is chiefly requir'd to corroborate and conduct the Attention of the Mind; which is, the natural Prayer we make to the true Master of all Men, in order to be instructed.

But because this Natural Way of Searching out Truth is very painful, and commonly impracti∣cable, except in the Resolution of Questions of little Use, the Knowledge whereof commonly more gratifies our Pride, than perfects our Understanding; I think it my Duty to say, (that I may profitably conclude this Work,) that the most expeditious and certain Method of discovering Truth, and uniting our selves to God in the purest and perfectest manner possible, is, to live as becomes true Christians; to follow exactly the Precepts of Eternal Truth, which unites it self with us, only to re-unite us with it: 'Tis to listen rather to the Dictates of our Faith, than Reason; and to tend to God, not so much by our natural Forces, which, since the Sin, are altogether languid and in∣active; as by the Assistance of Faith, by which alone God purposes to lead us into that immense Light of Truth which will dissolve and dissipate all our Darkness: For, in brief, 'tis much better, as good Men, to spend some Years in Ignorance of certain Things, and find our selves enlighten'd in a Moment, for ever; than by Natural Means, and abundance of Trouble and Application, pur∣chase a very imperfect Science, that shall leave us in Darkness to all Eternity.

ILLUSTRATIONS UPON THE FOREGOING BOOKS.

The PREFACE:

Wherein is shewn what should be our Opinion of the several Judgments com∣monly pass'd on Books, that encounter Prejudices.

WHen a BOOK is first to appear in the World, one knows not whom to consult to learn its Destiny: The Stars preside not over its Nativity, their Influences have no Operation on it; and the most confident Astrologers dare not foretell the diverse Risks of Fortune it must run: Truth not being of this World, Celestial Bodies have no power over her; and whereas she is of a most spiritual Nature, the several Positions or Combinations of Matter can contribute nothing ei∣ther to her Establishment or Ruine. Besides, the Judgments of Men are so different in respect of the same things, that we can never more hazardously and imprudently play the Prophet, than in pre∣saging the happy or unfortunate Success of a BOOK. So that every Man who ventures to be an Au∣thor, at the same time throws himself at the Reader's Mercy, to make him or esteem him what he pleases: But of all Authors, those who encounter Prejudices ought most infallibly to reckon upon their Condemnation; their Works ••it too uneasie on most Mens Minds, and if they escape the Pas∣sions of their Enemies, they are obliged to the almighty Force of Truth for their Protection.

'Tis a common Miscarriage with all Mankind, to be too precipitate in judging; for all Men are obnoxious to Errour, and only obnoxious upon this account: But all hasty and rash Judgments are ever consonant to Prejudices; and therefore Authors who oppugn them, cannot possibly escape Sentence from all their Judges, who appeal to Ancient Opinions, as the Laws whereby they ought to pronounce. For indeed most Readers are both Judge and Party, in respect of these Authors. Their Judges they are, that Quality is incontestable; but they are a Party likewise, being disturb'd by these Authors in the possession of their ancient Prejudices, for which they have the plea of Pre∣scription, and to which they have been accustom'd many Years.

I confess there's Abundance of Equity, Sincerity, and good Sense in a great many Readers; and that they sometimes are Judges rational enough to supersede common Opinions, as not being the infallible Rules of Truth. Many there are who retire into themselves, and consult that Inward Truth, which ought to be their Rule to judge of all things; but very Few that consult it upon all Occasions, and None at all who do it with all that Faithfulness and Attention, that is necessary to judge infallibly at all times. And thus, though we might suppose there were nothing blameable in a Treatise, which yet it would be Vanity to pretend to, I am persuaded it would be impossible to find one single Man to approve it in every respect; especially if his Prejudices were attacked by it; since it is not naturally possible, that a Judge constantly provok'd, affronted and outrag'd by a Party, should do him entire Justice; or that he should give himself the trouble of a strenuous Ap∣plication to those Reasons, which at first sight appear to him as extravagant Parodoxes, or ridicu∣lous Parol••gisms.

But though a Man be pleased with many things in a BOOK, if he fortunes to meet with some that are offensive, he shall seldom be wanting to speak ill of it, but most commonly forgetfull to give it any good Character. Self-love has a thousand Motives to induce us to condemn what we dislike; and Reason in this Instance fully justifies these Motives: since Men fansie they condemn Errours, and defend Truth, when they defend their Prejudices, and censure those that assault them. So that the most equitable Judges of Books that fight against Prejudices, pass commonly such a general Sentense as is no way favourable on their behalf. Perhaps they will say, there is something good in such a Work, and that the Author justly opposes certain Prejudices; but yet they shall be sure to condemn him; and as his Judges give an authoritative and grave decision upon the point, main∣taining that he carries things too far on such or such an occasion. For when an Author is ruining Prejudices which the Reader is not prepossess'd with, whatever he shall say will seem reasonable enough: But the same Author ever stretches things too far, when he engages the Prejudices where∣with the Reader is too deeply ting'd.

But whereas the Prejudices of different Persons are not constantly the same, should one carefully ga∣ther the several Judgments that are made upon the same things, it would commonly appear, that ac∣cording to these Judgments there is nothing Good; and at the same time nothing Bad, in such kind of Books: There would be nothing good, because there is no Prejudices, but one or other espouses; and there would be nothing bad, because there is no Prejudice whatever but some or other condemn. In which Judgments there is so much Equity, that should a Man pretend to make use of them to correct his Piece; he must necessarily strike it all out for fear of leaving any thing that was Condemn'd, or not to touch it for fear of expunging something that was approv'd. So that a poor Author that studies to be inoffensive, finds himself perplex'd on all hands, by all the various Judgments which

are pronounc'd both for and against him; and unless he resolve to stand his ground, and to be reckon'd obstinate in his Opinions; he must inevitably contradict himself at every turn, and appear in as many different Forms as there are different Heads in a whole Nation.

However, Time will do every Man Justice, and Truth which at first seems a Chimerical and ri∣diculous Phantasm, by degrees grows sensible and manifest: Men open their Eyes and contemplate her, they discover her Charms, and fall in love with her. This Man who condemns an Author for an Opinion that he dislikes, by chance meets with another that approves it, but condemns other Opinions which the former receives as undeniable; each of them talk suitably to his Notion, and each of them contradicts the other. Hence they come to examine both their own and others Reasons afresh; they dispute, and consider, and hesitate, and are not so ready to determine upon what they have not examin'd; and if they are brought to change their Opinion, and to acknowledge that an Author is more reasonable than was believ'd; there rises a secret inclination in their Breast, which prompts them to speak as well of him for the future as they have formerly spoken to his disho∣nour. Thus the Man who sticks resolutely to the Truth, though at first he move their Spleen or Laughter, need not despair one day to see Truth, which he defends, triumph over the Preposses∣sion of Men. For there's that difference between Good and Ill Books, between those which en∣lighten the Mind, and those which gratifie the Senses and Imagination, that the latter look charm∣ing and delightful at first, but they fade and wither in time; whilst the former, on the contrary, have something of a strange and discouraging nature, which troubles and sets the Mind agast; but in time they are relish'd, and so much the better as they are more read and digested, for 'tis Time generally that regulates the Price of Things.

The Books that encounter Prejudices leading to Truths through unbeaten Roads, require much longer time than others, to obtain the Reputation their Authors expect from them. For because Men are frequently baulk'd in the hopes that such sort of Performances had rais'd in them; but Few there are that read them; Fewer still that approve them; almost All condemn them, whether they read them or read them not: and though we be well assur'd that the trite and common Roads lead not where we design to go, yet the fear of venturing upon such as have no Footsteps of for∣mer Travellers, disheartens us from entring on them. So that Men cast not so much as their Eye about them to conduct themselves, but blindly tread in the steps of their Predecessors: Company is diverting and encouraging; they think not what they are doing, they perceive not where they go, and often forget the place where they design to arrive.

Men are made for a sociable Life, which to preserve, it is not enough to use the same Tongue; we must moreover keep to the same way of Expression, and the same road of Thinking, as other Men. We must live by Opinion, as we act by Imitation. We then consult advantageously, agree∣ably, and surely for the Good of the Body, and the Establishment of our Fortune, when we submit to the Opinions of others, and give way to be persuaded by the Air, or sensible Impression of the Imagination of those we hear speak. But we undergo much Pains, and run the extreme hazard of our Fortune, when we will only hearken to internal Truth, and reject with Scorn and Abhorrence all the Prejudices of the Senses, and all the Opinions we have receiv'd without Examination.

Thus all those Writers who combat with Prejudices, are much mistaken if they think by that means to recommend themselves to the Favour and Esteem of others: Possibly if they have suc∣ceeded in their Studies, some few of the Learned will speak honourably of their Works when they are dead; but while they live, they must expect to be neglected by most People, and to be despis'd, revil'd, and persecuted, even by those that go for the wisest and most moderate sort of Men.

And indeed there are so many Reasons, and those so strong and convincing, which oblige us to do the same as those we live with, that we have commonly right to condemn, as Men of fan∣tastical and capricious Spirits, such as act contrary to others. And because Men do not sufficiently distinguish between Acting and Thinking, they commonly are highly offended that any one should fall upon their Prejudices. They suppose it not sufficient to the preservation of the Rules of Civil Society, externally to comport with the receiv'd Opinions and Customs of our Country. They pretend it is Rashness to examine common Sentiments, and a breach of Charity to enquire after Truth; because Truth is not so much the Bond of Civil Societies, as Customs and Opinion.

Aristotle is receiv'd in the Universities as the Rule of Truth: he is cited as infallible; and 'tis a Philosophical Heresie to deny what he maintains: in a word, he is reverenc'd as the Genius of Nature: and after all, Those that are best acquainted with his Physicks, cannot account for, nor perhaps are convinc'd of any thing: and the Scholars, when they have finish'd their Course of Phi∣losophy, dare not declare before Men of Sense, what they have learn'd of their Masters. Which, it may be, is enough with Men of Reflexion, to teach them what to think of such sort of Stu∣dies: for that Erudition which a Man must unlearn to become Reasonable, cannot seem very solid. Yet a Man would be thought rash, and presumptuous, who would attempt to shew the Falsity of the Reasons that Authorize so strange and unacountable a Conduct: and he would necessarily make himself work with those, who reap advantage by it, though he were of competent Ability to dis∣abuse the Publick.

Is it not evident, that we must make use of things that are known, to learn what is not known? and that it would be imposing on a French-man, to give him a Grammar in German Verse to teach him the German Tongue? and yet we put into the hands of Children Despauterius's Latin Verses, to teach them Latin: Verses intricate on all accounts; to Children that with difficulty comprehend things that are most easie. Reason and also Experience are visibly against this Custom: for they spend a great deal of time to learn Latin but by halves; yet it would be temerity to find fault with

it. A Chinese who knew this Custom, could not help laughing at it; whilst in this part of the World, which we inhabit, the wisest and most learn'd cannot forbear approving it.

If Prejudices thus false and palpable, and Customs so irrational, and of so great Consequence, find so many Patrons and Defenders; how shall they submit to Reasons that oppose the Prejudices of a purely Speculative Nature? There needs but a very little Attention to discover that the way taken to instruct Children is not the best; and yet it is not acknowledg'd Opinion and Custom carry it against Reason and Experience. How then can we imagine that the Books which destroy an in∣finite number of Prejudices, will not in many things be condemn'd by those who pass for the most learn'd and wisest Part of Men?

It must be observ'd that those who go for the most understanding and ingenious in the World, are Men that have read most Books, both good and bad: Men of a most happy Memory, and of a most lively and comprehensive Imagination. Now this sort of Persons, commonly judge readily on all things, without Examination. They consult their Memory, and therein immediately find the Law, or Prejudice by which they pronounce, without much reflexion. As they think their Parts better than other Men's, they afford little Attention to what they read: Hence it comes, that Wo∣men and Children easily discover the Falsity of some Prejudices which they see attack'd, because they dare not judge without examining; and that they bring all the Attention they are capable of, to what they read: whilst Scholars, on the contrary, stick resolutely to their Opinions, because they will not be at the Trouble of examining those of others, when quite contrary to their pre∣conceiv'd Notions.

As to the Attendants on the Great Men of the World, they have so many external Adherencies, that they cannot easily retire into themselves; nor bring a competent attention to distinguish Truth from Probability. Nevertheless they are not extremely addicted to any kinds of Prejudices: For strongly to prosecute a Wordly interest, neither Truth nor Probability must be rely'd on. As a seeming Humility, or Civility, and external shew of Temper, are Qualities which all Men admire, and are absolutely necessary to keep up Society amongst Proud and ambitious Spirits: Men of Worldly Designs, make their Vertue and Desert to consist in asserting nothing, and believing no∣thing, as certain and indisputable. It has ever been, and will ever be the Fashion, to look upon all things as Problematical, and with a Gentleman-like Freedom to Treat the most holy Truths, lest they should seem bigotted to any thing. For whereas the Gentlemen I mention, are neither appli∣cative nor attentive to any thing but their Fortune; there can be no Disposition more Advantageous, or that seems more reasonable to them, than that which the Fashion justifies. Thus the Invaders of Prejudices, whilst they flatter on one hand, the Pride and Remisness of these Worldly Men, are well accepted by them; but if they pretend to assert any thing as Undeniable, and to manifest the Truth of Religion and Christian Morality, they are look'd upon as Opinionated, and as Men who avoid one Precipice to run upon another.

What I have said, is, methinks, sufficient to conclude, what should be answer'd to the different Judgments divers Persons have pronouc'd against The Treatise concerning the Search after Truth; and I shall make no Application, which every Man may do himself to good purpose without any trouble. I know indeed that every Man do will not do it; but perhaps I might seem to be the Judge in my own Case, if I should defend my self as far as I was able. I therefore resign up my Right to the Attentive Readers, who are the natural Judges of Books, and I conjure them to call to Mind, the request I made in the Preface of the foregoing Treatise, and elsewhere, Not to judge of my Opinions but by the clear and distinct Answers they shall receive from the only Teacher of all M••n, after having consulted him by a serious attention. For if they consult their Prejudices, as the decisive Laws to judge of the Book, Concerning the search after Truth; I acknowledge it to be a very ill Book, since purposely wri••ten to detect the Falsity and Injustice of these Laws.

ADVERTISEMENT.

WHereas the following Illustrations were compos'd to satisfie some particular Persons, who de∣sir'd a more special Explication of some important Truths; I think fit to premise, that cleary to apprehend what I shall say, it will be requisite to have some Knowledge of the Principles I have offer'd in the Treatise concerning the Search after Truth. Therefore it will be the best way not to meddle with these Observations, till after having carefully read the whole Work for which they were made; and only to examine them at a second reading, as they shall be found referr'd to by the Margin. This Caution however is not absolutely necessary to be observ'd by understanding Persons, because I have endeavoured so to write these Elucidations, as that they might be read without referring to the Book they were compos'd for; I know that Truth is of all things in the World that which gives least trou∣ble to acquire it. Men use not willingly to collate those Passages in a Book, which have Reference to one another; but commonly read things as they fall in their way, and understand of them as much as they can: wherefore to accommodate my self to this Temper of Men, I have tried to make these Remarks intelligible, even to those who have forgotten the Places of the foregoing Treatise, whereunto they refer. Nevertheless I desire those who will not be at the trouble of carefully examining these Illustra∣tions, not to condemn them of false and extravagant Consequences, which may be deduc'd from want of understanding them. I have some Reason to make this Request, not only because I have right to demand of the Readers, who are my Judges, not to condemn without understanding me, but on se∣veral other Accounts, which it is not necessary for me to declare in this Place.

ILLUSTRATIONS UPON THE TREATISE Concerning the SEARCH after TRUTH.

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

SOME Persons pretend that I relinquish the Comparison of the Mind and Matter too soon; and fansie the one has no more Power than the other to determine the Impression which God gives it; and therefore wish me to explain (if I can) what it is that God works in us, and what we do our selves, when we sin; since in their Opinion, I shall be oblig'd by my Explication, either to grant that Man is capable of giving himself some new Mo∣dification, or to acknowledge that God is actually the Author of Sin.

I answer, That Faith, Reason, and my own inward Consciousness, oblige me to quit the Com∣parison where I do; being every way convinc'd, that I have in my self a Principle of my own De∣terminations, and having Reasons to persuade, that Matter has no such Principle; which shall be prov'd hereafter: Mean while here is what God operates in us, and what we do our selves, when we sin.

First, God continually drives us, by an invincible Impression, towards Good in general. Second∣ly, He represents to us the Idea of a particular Good, or gives us the Sensation of it. Lastly, He inclines us to this particular Good.

First, God drives us continually towards Good in general. For God has made us, and still pre∣serves us for Himself. He wills that we shall love all Good, and is the first, or rather only Mover. In brief, this is evident from innumerable things that I have said elsewhere, and those I speak to will not dispute it.

Secondly, God represents to us the Idea of a particular Good, or gives us the Sensation of it: For 'tis he alone that enlightens us, and the surrounding Bodies cannot act upon our Mind. In a word, we are neither our own Light, nor our own Felicity, as I have proved at large in the Third Book, and elsewhere.

Lastly, God inclines us to this particular Good: For God inducing us to all that's Good, by a necessary Consequence, inclines us to particular Goods, by producing the Idea or Sensation of them in our Mind. This therefore is all that God effects in us when we sin.

But whereas a particular Good includes not in it all Good; and the Mind, considering it with a clear and distinct View, cannot imagine it concludes all; God does not necessarily and invinsibly incline us to the love of it. We are conscious of the Liberty we have to stay this Love, and of our Tendency to proceed farther: In a word, we feel the Impression we have for Good Univer∣sal: or, to speak as others do, we are sensible that our Will is not under any constraint or necessity to fix upon this particular Good.

So then this is what the Sinner does: He stops, he rests, he follows not the Impression of God, he does nothing: For Sin is Nothing. He knows that the grand Rule he is to observe is to em∣ploy his Liberty so far as it will go; and that he is not to fasten upon any Good, unless he be in∣wardly convinc'd it would be offending against ORDER, to refuse to stay upon it. If he dis∣covers not this Rule, by the light of his Reason, he learns it at least from the secret Reproaches of

his Conscience. He is obliged then to follow the Impression he receives for the Universal Good; and to think of other Goods besides what he enjoys, and what he is only to make use of: For 'tis by thinking on other Goods besides what he enjoys, that he can produce in himself new De∣terminations of his Love, and make use of his Liberty. Now I prove that by the Impression God gives him for Good in general, he may think of other Goods, besides that of his present Enjoyment, it being precisely in this that the Difficulty consists.

* 1.69'Tis a Law of Nature, that the Ideas of Objects should offer themselves to our Mind when we desire to think of them, provided our Capacity of Thought be not fill'd up by the lively and con∣fus'd Sensations we receive occasionally from the Motions in our Body. Now we can Will the thinking on all things; because the natural Impression which carries us towards Good, reaches to all possible Objects of our Thought: And we can at all times think on all things; because we are united to Him who comprehends the Ideas of all things, as I have formerly proved.

If it be true then that we can Will the considering nearly, what we already see as afar off, since we are united with the Universal Being; and if it be certain that, by virtue of the Laws of Nature, Ideas approach us when we desire it; we ought thence to infer:

First, That we have a Principle of our Determinations. For 'tis the actual Presence of parti∣cular Ideas, that positively determines, towards particular Goods, the Motion we have towards Good in general; and so changes our Natural Love, into Free and deliberate Loves: Our Consent, or Acquiescence in the preception of a Particular Good, has nothing real or positive in it on our Part; as I shall explain by and by.

Secondly, That the Principle of our Determinations is always free in regard to particular Goods. For we are not invincibly inclin'd to love them; since we can examine them in themselves, and compare them with the Idea which we have of the Sovereign Good, or with other particular Goods. Thus the Principle of our Liberty consists in this, that being made for God, and united to him, we can always think on the true Good, or on other Goods besides those which our Thoughts are actually engag'd on.

But this, on supposition that our Sensations do not take up the Capacity of our Mind. For to the end we may be free with the Liberty foremention'd, it is necessary not only that God should not push us, invincibly, to particular Goods; but also that we should be able to employ our Impression for Good in general, to the loving other Objects than those we love at present. But as those only can be the actual Objects of our Love, which can be of our Thoughts; and that we cannot actually think, except on those which occasion very lively Sensations, whilst they oc∣casion them; it is plain, that the dependance we have upon our Body weakens our Liberty, and in many Junctures, quite destroys the use of it. So that our Sensations obliterating our Ideas; and the Union we have with our Body, whereby we discern only our selves, enfeebling that we have with God, whereby all things are present to us; the Mind ought not to give way to be shar'd by confus'd Sensations, if it would preserve entire the free Principle of its Determinations.

From all which it is evident, that God is not the Author of Sin, and that Man endues not him∣self with any new Modifications: God is not the Author of Sin; because he continually impresses on the Sinner, who stops at a particular Good, a Motion to go farther; gives him a Power of thinking on other things, and tending to other Goods, than those which actually engage his Thoughts and Affections; and commands him not to love whatever he can refuse to love without inward Disquiet and Remorse: withal continually recalling him to his God, by the secret Reproaches of his Reason.

'Tis true that in one sense God inclines the Sinner to Love the Object of his Sin; if this Ob∣ject appears Good to a Sinner: for as most Divines say, whatever there is of a positive nature of Act, or Motion in the Sin, proceeds from God. But 'tis only by a false Judgment of our Mind that the Creatures seem good to us; I mean capable of acting in us, and making us happy. But the Sin of a Man consists not in his loving a particular Good; for every Good, as such, is amiable; but in his loving only this Good, or loving it as much or more than another that is greater; or in his loving a Good which God forbids him to enjoy; for that the Mind being sub∣ject to the Body,* 1.70 pursuant to the Fall, the Love, or rather the Enjoyment of this Good, would en∣crease his Concupiscence, and alienate him from the love of the supreme Good. In a word, the Sin of Man consists in his not referring all particular Goods to the supreme: or rather in his not con∣sidering and loving the supreme Good in all the particular; and so not regulating his Love by the WILL of GOD, or according to essential and necessary ORDER, of which all Men have a more or less perfect Knowledge, as they are stricter or looser united to God; or are more or less Sensible to the Impressions of their Senses and Passions. For our Senses import our Soul into our whole Body; and our Passions, as it were, export it to circumambient Objects; and so remove us from the Divine Light, which would penetrate and illuminate us.

Nor does Man give himself new Modifications: For the Motion of Love which God con∣stantly imprints on us, is neither augmented nor diminish'd; whether we do or do not actually love; I mean, whether this natural Motion of Love be, or be not determin'd by some Idea of our Mind. Nor does this Motion cease by its Acquiescence in the Possession of Good, as Mo∣tion of Bodies ceases by their Rest. There is great likelihood that God pushes us at all times alike with an even Force towards him; for he pushes us on towards Good in general, as fast as we are capable; and we are at all times equally capable, because our Will, or our natural Ca∣pacity of Willing, is always equal to it self. Thus, I say, the Impression, or natural Motion, which carries us towards Good, never encreases or diminishes.

I confess we have no clear Idea, nor indeed inward Sensation of the Evenness of that Impres∣sion, or natural Motion towards Good: But this comes from our not knowing it by Idea, (which I have formerly * 1.71 prov'd,) and from our not being conscious of our Faculties, whilst they do not actually operate. We feel not what is natural and common, and always the same in us; as the Heat and Beating of the Heart. We are even insensible of our Habits, and whether we are deserving of the Love, or Wrath of God† 1.72. We have perhaps infinite Faculties, which are perfectly un∣known to us: For we are not inwardly conscious of all that we are, but only of all that we feel. Had we never felt Pain, nor desir'd particular Goods, we could not by our Self-Consciousness, have told whether we are capable of feeling Pain, or of willing those Goods: It being our Me∣mory, and not our internal Sense, which teaches us we are capable of feeling what we do not feel; or of being mov'd by such Passions, as do not actually agitate us. There is nothing there∣fore that can hinder our believing, that God draws us towards him with an equal Force, though in a very different manner; and that he preserves in our Soul an equal Capacity of willing, or one and the same Will, as he preserves in Matter, collectively taken, an equal quantity of Motion. But though this should not be certain, yet I can't see how it can be said, that the Augmentation or Diminution of the Natural Motion of our Soul depends on us, since we cannot be the Cause of the Extent of our own Will.

It is moreover certain, from what I said before, That God produces and preserves in us all that's real and positive in the particular Determinations of the Motion of our Soul; namely, our Ideas and Sensations: For this it is which determines our Motion towards Good in general, to particular Goods, but not in an irresistible manner, because we have a tendency to go farther. Hence all that is done on our part when we sin, is our not doing all we yet have the power to do, by means of our impression towards Him who comprehends all Goods; for all our Power is de∣riv'd from our Union with Him who works all in us. Now the principal cause of our sinning is, that preferring Enjoyment to Examination, by reason of the Pleasure accruing to our Enjoy∣ing, and the Pain attending our Examining; we desist to employ the Motion which is given us for the pursuit and disquisition of Good; and we dwell upon the enjoyment of things, which we should no more than make use of. But if we observe the Matter nearly, we shall see that in this there is nothing real on our part, but only an intermission and cessation of Enquiry, which corrupts, as I may say, the Action of God in us, but yet can never destroy it. So then, when we do not sin, What is it we do? We do all that God does in us; for we do not confine to a particular Good, or rather a False one, the Love which God impresses on us for the True. And when we sin, What do we do then? Nothing. For we love a false Good, to which God does not carry us by an irresistible impression; we cease to persue the true Good, and frustrate the Motion God gives us towards it* 1.73. Now whilst we love a particular good only, or against OR∣DER, we receive as great an impression of Love from God, as if we did not fix upon it. More∣over this particular Determination, which is neither necessary nor invincible, is given us of God; and therefore in sinning, we produce no new Modification in our selves.

However, I own that when we sin not, but resist Temptation, we may be said in one sense to give our selves a new Modification; because we chuse to think on other things than the seeming Goods wherewith we are tempted. But all that we then do, is produc'd by the Action which God puts in us; that is, either by our Motion towards Good in general, or by our Will assisted by Grace; I mean, enlightned by Knowledge, and forwarded by a preventing delectation. For in fine, If the willing different things be suppos'd to be giving different Modifications, I deny not but in this Sense, the Mind may diversly modifie it self by the Action it receives from God.

But 'tis always to be observ'd, that this Action deriv'd into us from God depends upon our selves, and is not irresistible, with respect to particular Goods. For upon the presentation of a particular Good, we are inwardly conscious of our Liberty on its behalf, as we are of our Plea∣sure and Pain, when they sensibly affect us: And the same Reason convinces us we are Free, that convinces us we Exist; for 'tis the inward consciousness or feeling of our own Thoughts, that give us to know we have a Being. And, if at the same time that we are sensible of our Liberty, with respect to a particular Good, we ought to doubt of it, for want of having a clear Idea thereof; we ought no less to doubt of our Pain, and our Existence at the time of our Misery, since we have no clear Idea either of our Soul or Pain.

It goes quite otherwise with our inward Sensation or Conscience, than with our outward Sen∣ses. The latter always deceive us in something, when we follow their reports: but the former never deceives us. 'Tis by the outward Senses I see Colours on the surface of Bodies, that I hear Sound in the Air, that I feel Pain in my Hand; and their Testimony deceives me, if I rely upon it: But 'tis by my inward Sensation that I see Colour, that I hear Sound, that I suffer Pain; and I err not in believing I see when I see, hear when I hear, and suffer when I suffer; provided I stop and go no farther. These things are too self-evident to be longer insisted on. Therefore being inwardly conscious of our Liberty, at the time of a particular Good's being present to the Mind, we are not to be doubtful of our Freedom on its respect. But whereas this inward Sensa∣tion is sometimes absent from our Mind, and we consult only what confus'd remains it has left

in our Memory; we may by the consideration of abstracted reasons, which keep us from an in∣ward feeling, persuade our selves that 'tis impossible for Man to be free: Just as a Stoick who in want of nothing, and Philosophizing at his Case, may imagine that Pain is no Evil, because the Internal Sense he has of himself, does not actually convince him of the contrary; and so he may prove, like Seneca, by reasons in one sense most true, that 'tis a contradiction for the wise man to be miserable.

But though our Self-consciousness were insufficient to convince us of our Freedom, yet Reason might evince as much: For since the light of Reason assures us that God acts only for himself, and that he can give no Motion to us, but what must tend towards him; the Impression towards Good in general may be irresistible; but 'tis plain, that that which we have for particular Goods must be necessarily free. For if it were invincible, we should have no Motion to carry us to God, though he gives it only for himself; and we should be constrain'd to settle on particular Goods; though GOD, ORDER and REASON, forbid us. So that Sin could not be laid at our door, and God would be the real Cause of our Corruptions; forasmuch as we should not be Free, but purely Natural, and altogether necessary Agents.

Thus though inward Sensation did not teach us we were free, Reason would discover it was necessary for Man to be created so; if we suppose him capable of desiring particular Goods, and only capable of desiring them through the Impression or Motion which God perpetually gives us for himself. Which likewise may be prov'd by Reason. But our capacity to suffer Pain can∣not be prov'd this way; but can only be discover'd by Conscience, or inward Sensation; and yet no Man can doubt but a Man is liable to suffer Pain.

As we know not our Soul by any clear Idea we have of it, as I have before explain'd, so 'tis in vain to try to discover what it is in us that terminates the Action which God impresses, or that yields to be conquer'd by a resistible Determination, and which we may change by our Will, or by our Impression towards all Good, and our Union with him, who includes the Ideas of all Beings. For in short, we have no clear Idea of any Modification of our Soul: Nothing but our Internal Sense can teach us that we are, and what we are: and this only must be consulted to convince us we are free. And its Answers are clear, and satisfactory enough upon the Point, when we actually propose to our selves any particular Good; for no Man whatever can doubt whether he be invinsibly inclin'd to eat of a Fruit, or avoid some slight inconsiderable Pain. But if instead of hearkning to our Inward Sensation, we attend to abstracted Reasons, which throw us off the Contempla∣tion of our selves, possibly losing sight of them, we may forget that we are in Being; and trying to reconcile the prescience of God, and his absolute power over us, with our Liberty, we shall plunge into an Errour that will overturn all the Principles of Religion and Morality.

I produce here an Objection which is usually made against what I have been saying, which though but very weak and defective, is strong enough to give a great many trouble to evade. The Hating of God, say they, is an Action which does not partake of Good; and therefore is all the Sinner's, God having no part in it: And consequently Man acts and gives himself new Modifications, by an action which does not come from God.

I Answer, That Sinners hate not God, but because they freely and falsly judge that he is Evil; for Good, consider'd as such, cannot be the Object of Hatred. Therefore they hate God with that very Motion of Love he influences them with towards Good. Now the Reason why they conclude he is not Good, is their making an undue use of their Liberty; for being not convinc'd with irresistible Evidence that he is not Good, they ought not to believe him Evil, nor consequently to hate him.

In Hatred two things may be distinguish'd, viz. the Sensation of the Soul, and Motion of the Will. This Sensation cannot be Evil; for it is a Modification of the Soul, and has neither Moral Good nor Ill in it. Nor is the Motion more corrupt, since it is not distinguishable from that of Love. For Ex∣ternal Evil being only the privation of Good, 'tis manifest, that to fly Evil, is to fly the privation of Good, that is, to pursue Good. Wherefore all that is real and positive, even in our Hatred of God himself, has nothing Evil in it; and the Sinner cannot hate God, without an abominable abuse of the action which God incessantly gives to incline him to the Love of Him.

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

* 1.74AS the Difficulties that are rais'd about Concupiscence, are near akin to those before explain'd; I think it convenient to shew, that God is not the Author of Concupiscence, though it be he that works all in us, even in the production of sensible Pleasure.

It ought, I think to be granted for the Reasons produc'd in the Fifth Chapter of the First Book of the preceding Treatise, and elsewhere, that by the natural Laws of the Union of the Soul and Body, Man, even before the Fall, was inclin'd by preventing Pleasures to the use of sensible Goods; and that as often as such and such Traces were delineated in the principal part of his Brain, such and such Thoughts arose in his Mind. Now those Laws were most Proper and Equitable, for the Rea∣sons I there have given: Which being suppos'd, as before the Trangressions all things were perfectly well order'd, so Man had necessarily that Power over his Body, as that he could prevent the pro∣duction of these Traces when he would; Order requiring that his Mind should have the Dominion over his Body: Which Power of his Mind precisely consisted in this, that according to its different

Desires and Applications, it stopt the Communication of Motions which were produc'd in his own Body by circumambient Objects, over which his Will had not an immediate and direct Authority, as over his proper Body: And it cannot, I think, be conceiv'd how he could hinder the Formation of the Traces in his Brain any other way. Therefore the Will of God, or the general Law of Na∣ture, which is the true Cause of the Communication of Motions, depended on some occasions, upon the Will of Adam: For God had that consideration for him; that he produc'd not without his consent new Motions in his Body, or at least in the principal part to which his Soul was immediately uni••ed.

Such was the Institution of Nature before the Sin. ORDER would have it so; and consequent∣ly HE whose essential and necessary Will is always conformable to ORDER. Which Will re∣maining immutably the same, the Establish'd Order was subverted by the first Man's Disobedience; because for the demerits of his Sin, it was consonant to Order, that he should be Lord of nothing. It is not reasonable that the Sinner should suspend the Communication of Motions, that the Will of God should conform to his;* 1.75 or that any exceptions should be made to the Law of Nature on his Behalf: In so much that Man is subject to Concupiscence, his Mind depends on his Body; he feels in himself indeliberate Pleasures, and involuntary and rebellious Motions, pursuant to that most just and exact Law which unites the two Parts of which he is compos'd.

Thus the formal Reason of Concupiscence, no less than that of Sin, is nothing real and positive; being no more in Man, than the loss of the Power he had to wave, and suspend to the Commu∣nication of Motions on some occasions: Nor are we to admit any positive Will in God to produce it. For this loss which Man has sustain'd, was not a consequence of Order, or of the immutable Will of God, which never swerves from it, and is constantly the same; but only a consequence of Sin, which has rendred Man unworthy of an Advantage due only to his Innocence and Up∣rightness. Wherefore we may say, that not God, but Sin only, has been the Cause of Concu∣piscence.

Nevertheless, God Works all that is Real and Positive in the Sensations and Motions of Concupis∣cence; for God does every thing: but all that has nothing of Evil. 'Tis by the general Law of Na∣ture, that is, by the Will of God, that sensible Objects produce in Man's Body certain Motions, and that these Motions raise in the Soul certain Sensations, useful to the preservation of the Body, or the Porpagation of the Species. Who then dare presume to say these things are not good in themselves?

I know it is said that Sin is the Cause of certain Pleasures. But do they that say it, conceive it? Can it be thought that Sin, which is nothing, should actually produce something? Can nothing be suppos'd to be a (real) Cause. However 'tis so said: but possibly for want of taking due pains of seriously considering what they say; or because they are unwilling to enter on an Explication that is contrary to the Discourses they have heard from Men, who, it may be, talk with more Gravity and Assurance, than Reflexion and Knowledge.

Sin is the Cause of Concupiscence, but not of Pleasure; as Free Will is the Cause of Sin, though not of the natural Motion of the Soul. The Pleasure of the Soul is good, as well as its Motion or Love: and there is nothing good but what God does. The Rebellion of the Body, and the guilt of Pleasure, proceed from Sin: As the Adherency of the Soul to a particular Good, or its Rest, proceeds from the Sinner: But these are only Privations and Nothings, whereof the Creature is capable.

Every Pleasure is Good, and likewise in some measure makes happy the Possessour, at least for the time of the Enjoyment: But it may be said to be evil; because instead of elevating the Mind to Him that is the true Cause of it, through the Errour of our Intellectual, and corruption of our Moral Part, it prostrates it before sensible Objects, that only seem to produce it. Again it is evil, in as much as it is Injustice in us who are Sinners; and consequently meriting rather to be punish'd than rewarded, to oblige God pursuant to his (Primitive) Will, to recompense us with pleasant Sensations. In a word (not to repeat here what I have said in other places) it is evil, because God at present forbids it, by Reason of its alienating the Mind from himself, for whom he hath made and preserves it. For that which was ordain'd by God to preserve Righteous Man in his Innocence, now fixes sinful Man in his Sin; and the Sensations of Pleasure, which he wisely establish'd as the easiest and most obvious Expedients to teach Man, (without calling off his Reason from his true Good,) whether he ought to unite himself with the invironing Bodies; at present fill the Capaci∣ty of his Mind, and fasten him on Objects incapable of acting in him, and infinitely below him; because he looks upon these Objects to be the true Causes of the Happiness he enjoys occasionally from them.

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

IT must not be imagin'd that the Will commands the Understanding any other Way than by its Desires and Motions, there being no other Action of the Will: nor must it be believ'd that the Understanding obeys the Will, by producing in it self the Ideas of Things which the Soul de∣sires; for the Understanding acts not at all, but only receives Light, or the Ideas of Things, through its necessary Union with Him who comprehends all Beings in an intelligible manner, as is explain'd in the * 1.76 Third Book.

Here then is all the Mystery; Man participates of the Sovereign Reason, and Truth displays it self to him proportionably to his Application, and his praying to it. Now the Desire of the Soul is a Natural Prayer, that is always heard; it being a natural Law, that Ideas should be so much readier, and more present to the Mind, as the Will is more earnest in desiring them. Thus, pro∣vided our Thinking Capacity, or Understanding, be not clogg'd and fill'd up by the confus'd Sen∣sations we receive occasionally from the Motions occurring in our Body, we should no sooner de∣sire to think on any Object, but its Idea would be always present to our Mind; which Idea, Ex∣perience witnessing, is so much more present and clear, as our Desire is more importunate, and our confus'd Sensations, furnish'd to us by the Body, less forcible and applicative, as I have said in the foregoing Illustration.

Therefore, in saying that the Will commands the Understanding to represent to it some particu∣lar Object, I meant no more than that the Soul, willing to consider that Object with Attention, draws near it by her Desire; because this Desire, consequently to the efficacious Wills of God, which are the inviolable Laws of Nature, is the Cause of the Presence and Clearness of the Idea that represents the Object. I could not at that time speak otherwise than I did, nor explain my self as I do at present, as having not yet prov'd God the sole Author of our Ideas, and our parti∣cular Volitions only the occasional Causes of them. I spoke according to the common Opinion, as I have been frequently oblig'd to do, because all cannot be said at once: The Reader ought to be equitable, and give Credit for some time, if he would have Satisfaction; for none but Geometri∣cians pay always down in hand.

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

WHen I say that we have no Ideas of the Mysteries of Faith, it is visible from the foregoing and following Discourse, that I speak but of clear Ideas, which are productive of Light and Evidence, and which give us a Comprehension of the Object, if we may be allow'd so to speak. I grant that a Peasant could not believe, for Example, that the Son of God was made Man, or

that there were Three Persons in the Godhead, if he had no Idea of the Union of the WORD with our Humanity, and no Notion of Person. But if these Ideas were clear, we might by con∣sidering them, perfectly comprehend these Mysteries, and explain them to others; and so they would be no longer ineffable Mysteries. The Word Person has, as * 1.77 St. Austin says, been apply'd to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, not so much to express distinctly what they are, as not to be silent upon a Mystery whereof we are oblig'd to speak.

I say here that we have no Ideas of our Mysteries, as I said elsewhere we have no Idea of our Soul; because the Idea we have of the latter is no clearer than those we have of the former: Therefore the Word Idea is equivocal; sometimes I have taken it for whatever represents to the Mind any Object, whether clearly, or confus'd and darkly; sometimes more generally, for what∣ever is the immediate Object of the Mind; sometimes likewise for that which represents Things so clearly to the Mind, that we may with a bare Perception discover whether such or such Modi∣fications do belong to them. For this Reason I have sometimes said we * 1.78 had an Idea of the Soul, and sometimes deny'd it; † 1.79 for 'tis difficult, and often wearisom and ungrateful to observe a too vigorous Exactness in one's Expressions.

When an Author contradicts himself but in the Opinion of his Criticks, or such as would fain have him do it, he ought not to be much concern'd at it; and if he would satisfie by tedious Ex∣plications whatever the Malice or Ignorance of Men might object to him, he would not only com∣pose an ill Book, but all his Readers would be disgusted with the Answers he gave to Objections, either imaginary, or contrary to that equitable Temper which all the World pretends to; for a Man cannot endure to be suspected either of Malice or Ignorance; nor is it allowable to answer weak or invidious Objections for the most part, except when there are Men that have urg'd them, and so have skreen'd the Reader from the Reproach which such Answers seem to asperse on those that demand them.

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

IN order to our distinct understanding all this, it must be known that we are determin'd to act from only Knowledge and Pleasure; for whenever we begin to love an Object, 'tis from our discovering by Reason that it is good, or feeling by Pleasure that it is agreeable. But there is great difference between Knowledge and Pleasure: Knowledge enlightens our Mind, and mani∣fests the Good, but does not actually and efficatiously incline us to the loving it; whereas Plea∣sure effectually drives and determines us to love the Object that seems to cause it. Knowledge, or Light, does not induce us of it self; but leaving us wholly to our selves, lets us freely deter∣mine our own Motion to the Good which it presents: Pleasure, on the contrary, anticipates our Reason, interrupts us from consulting it, leaves us not to our own Conduct, and weakens our Liberty.

Therefore, as Adam had before his Fall, a Time appointed to merit Eternal Happiness, and had a full and perfect Liberty to that intent; and as his Light was sufficient to hold him close∣ly united to God, whom he already lov'd by the natural Tendency of his Soul; he ought not to be carry'd to his Duty by preventing Ple••sures, which would have lessen'd his Merit by lessen∣ing his Liberty. Adam might have had some sort of Right to complain of God, if he had hin∣der'd him from meriting his Reward as he ought to do; that is, by Actions absolutely free:

And it had been a sort of injuring his Free Will,* 1.80 for God to have given him that kind of Grace which is at present only necessary to counterpoise the preventing Delights of Concupiscence. Whilst Adam had all necessary Supplies for his Perseverance, it had been to suspect his Vertue, and, as it were, to accuse him of Infidelity, to give him any Prevention: It had been leaving him an Occasion of Glorying in himself, to have taken away all Sense of the Wants possible to befall him, and Infirmities he was obnoxious to; for I own that as yet he had neither Want nor Weakness. Lastly, What is infinitely more considerable, it had been to render the Incarna∣tion of JESUS CHRIST indifferent; which certainly was the first and greatest Design of Him who suffer'd all Men to be involv'd in Sin, that he might shew them Mercy in JESUS CHRIST, to the end that he who glories might glory only in the LORD.

To me therefore it seems undeniable that Adam had no Sense of Preventing Pleasures in his Du∣ty, but it does not seem equally certain that he had a Sense of Joy, though I suppose it here, as believing it highly probable. But to explain my self:

There is this Difference between Preventing Pleasure and the Pleasure of Joy, that the former precedes Reason, and the latter follows it; for Joy naturally results from the Knowledge one has of his own Happiness or Perfections, because he cannot consider himself as happy or perfect, but he must instantly thereupon feel a certain Joy. As we may be conscious of our Happiness by Plea∣sure, or discover it by Reason, so Joy is of two sorts; I speak not here of that which is purely sen∣sible, but of that which Adam might have been possess'd with, as necessarily consequent to the Know∣ledge he had of his Happiness in uniting himself with God: And some Reasons there are, which make it doubtful whether he was actually possess'd of it.

The Principal of all is, that his Mind perhaps had been so taken up with it, that it had rob∣bed him of his Liberty, and invincibly united him to God; for 'tis reasonable to believe that this Joy ought to be proportion'd to the Happiness which Adam possess'd, and consequently exceed∣ing great.

But in answer to this, I say, First, That purely Intellectual Joy leaves the Mind to its entire Li∣berty, and takes up but very little of its Thinking Capacity; wherein it differs from Sensible Joy, which commonly disturbs the Reason, and lessens the Liberty.

I answer, Secondly, That the Happiness of Adam at the first Instant of his Creation, did not consist in a plenary and entire Possession of the Supreme Good, it being possible for him to lose it, and become miserable: But herein his Happiness especially consisted, That he suffer'd no Evil, and was in the good Favour of Him who must have perfected his Felicity, if he had persever'd in his State of Innocency. Thus his Joy was not excessive; nay, it was or ought to have been temper'd with an Alloy of Fear, for he ought to have been diffident of himself.

I answer, Lastly, That Joy does not always intend the Mind upon the true Cause that produces it: As a Sense of Joy arises upon the Contemplation of one's own Perfections, it is natural to be∣lieve that Prospect is the Cause of it; for when a Thing constantly follows from another, 'tis na∣turally look'd upon as one of its Effects. Thus a Man considers himself as the Author of his own present Happiness, he finds a secret Complacency in his Natural Perfections, he loves himself, and thinks not of Him who operates in him in an imperceptible manner.

'Tis true, Adam more distinctly knew than the greatest of Philosophers, that God alone was able to act in him, and produce that Sense of Joy which he felt upon the Consideration of his Happi∣ness and Perfections. This he knew clearly by the Light of Reason, when he attended to it, but not by any Sensation; which, on the contrary, taught him that his Joy was a Consequence of his Perfection, seeing he had the constant Sense of it, and that without any Application on his part: And so this Sensation might lead him to consider his own Perfections, and take pleasure in him∣self if he either forgot, or any ways lost sight of Him whose Operations in us are not of a sen∣sible Nature. So far would this Joy have been from rendring him impeccable, as is pretended, that, on the contrary, it might probably be the Occasion of his Pride and Fall. And 'tis for this Reason that I say in this Chapter, that Adam ought to have taken care not to have suffer'd the Ca∣pacity of his Mind to be fill'd with a presumptuous Joy, kindled in his Soul upon Reflexion on his own Natural Perfections.

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

THough I say in this Chapter, that Preventing Delight is the Grace which JESUS CHRIST has particularly merited for us; and that I term it elsewhere absolutely, The Grace of our LORD; yet this is not said as if there were no other Grace besides this, or as if there were any but what He has merited; but I name it so, to distinguish it from the Grace which GOD gave Adam in his Creation, which commonly we call the Grace of the Creator: For the Grace by which Adam might have persever'd in Innocence was chiefly a Grace of Light, or Knowledge, as I have explain'd in the foregoing Reflexion; because, being free of Concupiscence, he had no need of Preventing Pleasures to resist it.

But the Grace which is at present necessary to support us in our Duty, and to beget and keep Charity alive in us, is Preventing Delectation: For as Pleasure produces and cherishes the Love of the Things that cause, or seem to cause it; so Preventing Pleasures, which Bodies occasionally ad∣minister, produce and maintain in us our Cupidity. So that Cupidity being entirely opposite to Charity, if God did not beget and sustain in us the Latter by Preventing Delectations, 'tis plain that it would be enfeebled by the Preventing Pleasures of Concupiscence, proportionably as Con∣cupiscence was corroborated by them.

What I here say, supposes that God leaves our Concupiscence to work in us, and does not weaken it by an infus'd Abhorrence to sensible Objects, which (as a Result from Sin) must ne∣cessarily tempt us. I speak of Things according to ordinary procedure: But supposing that God lessens Concupiscence instead of increasing Delectable Grace, it comes to the same thing; for it is plain that a Balance may be put two Ways in aequilibrio, when one of the Scales is too heavy burthen'd, either by adding Weight to the opposite Scale, or retrenching the Excess of the over∣weighted.

Nor do I suppose it is impossible to do any good Action, without a Preventing Delectation: Up∣on which Particular I have explain'd my self sufficiently in the Fourth Chapter of the Third Book. And it seems too evident to be doubted, that a Man having his Heart possess'd with the Love of God, may by the Strength of his Love, unassisted with Preventing Delight, give, for instance, a Peny to a poor Man, or patiently suffer some little Affront. I am persuaded likewise that this De∣light is not necessary, except when the Temptation is strong, or the Love for God weak. How∣ever, it may be said to be absolutely necessary to a Righteous Man, whose Faith might (one would think) be resolute, and his Hope strong enough to conquer very violent Temptations; the Joy or Fore-taste of Eternal Happiness being capable of resisting the sensible Allurements of transitory Goods.

'Tis true, Delectation, or Actual Grace, is necessary to every good Action, if by these Words be meant Charity, in which Sense St. Austin commonly took them: For 'tis evident, that whatever is done without some Respect or other had to God, is good for nothing. But clearing the Terms of Equivocations, and taking Delectation in the Sense I have given, I cannot see how what I have said can be call'd in question.

But see wherein the Difficulty consists: Pleasure and Love are suppos'd to be one and the same thing, because seldom apart; and St. Austin does not always distinguish them: And on this Sup∣position they may reasonably say as they do; and we may conclude with St. Austin, Quod amplius nos delectat, secundum id operemur necesse est: For certainly we will what we love; and so likewise it may be said, that we cannot perform any good or meritorious Action, without Delectation or Charity.* 1.81 But I hope to make it appear in the Explanation I shall make upon the Tract concerning the Passions, that there is as much difference between Pleasure and deliberate or indeliberate Love, as there is between our Knowledge and our Love, or (to give a sensible Representation of this Difference) between the Figure of a Body and its Motion.

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

MEN are commonly perfectly ignorant of what they presume best to understand, and have a good Knowledge of other things, whilst they imagine they have not so much as their Ideas. When their Senses have to do in their Judgments, they submit to what they do not comprehend; at least to what they know but imperfectly and confusedly. And when their Ideas are purely intellectual, (give me leave to use such Expressions,) they will hardly admit undenia∣ble Demonstrations.

What Notion, for Instance, have the generality of Men, when we prove to them most of Metaphysical Truths; when we demonstrate the Existence of a God, the Efficacy of his Will, the Immutability of his Decrees: That there is but one God, or true Cause, that works all in all things; but one Supreme Reason which all Intelligent Beings participate; but one necessary Love, which is the Principle of all created Wills? They think we pronounce Words with∣out Sense; that we have no Ideas of the things advanc'd; and that we had better say nothing. Metaphysical Truths and Arguments are not of a sensible Nature; they have nothing moving and affecting, and consequently leave not Conviction behind them. Nevertheless, abstract Ideas are certainly the most distinct; and Metaphysical Truths the most clear and evident of all other.

Men sometimes say they have no Idea of God, nor any Knowledge of his Will, and common∣ly believe too what they say; but 'tis for want of knowing what they know, it may be, best: For where's the Man that hesitates in answering to the Question, Whether God is Wise, Just, or Power∣ful? Whether he is Divisible, Triangular, Movable, or subject to any kind of Change whatever? Whereas we cannot answer without scruple, and fear of being mistaken, whether certain Qualities do or do not belong to a Subject which we have no Idea of. So again, Who is it dares say, that God acts not by the most simple Means? That he is irregular in his Designs? That he makes Mon∣sters by a positive, direct, and particular Will, and not by a kind of Necessity? In a word, That his Will is, or may be, contrary to ORDER, whereof every Man knows something, more or less: But if a Man had no Idea of the Will of GOD, he might at least doubt whether he acted according to certain Laws, which he clearly conceives he is obliged to follow, on Supposition HE will act.

Men therefore have the Ideas of things purely Intelligible; which Ideas are much clearer than those of sensible Objects: They are better assured of the Existence of a God, than of that of Bo∣dies; and when they retire into themselves, they more clearly discover certain Wills of God, by which he produces and preserves all Beings, than those of their best Friends, or whom they have studied all their Lives: For the Union of their Mind with God, and that of their Will with his, that is, with the Law Eternal, or Immutable Order, is immediate, direct, and necessary; whereas their Union with sensible Objects, being founded only for the Preservation of their Life and Health, gives them no Knowledge of these Objects, but as they relate to that Design.

'Tis this immediate and direct Union, which is not known, says St. Austin, but by those whose Mind is purified; that enlightens our most secret Reason, and exhorts and moves us in the inmost Recesses of our Heart. By this we learn both the Thoughts and the Wills of God; that is, Eternal Truths and Laws: For no one can doubt but we know some of them with Evidence. But our Union with our choicest Friends teaches us not evidently either what they think, or what they will. We think we know right well, but we are most commonly mistaken, because we receive our Information only from their Lips.

Nor can our Union, which we have through our Senses, with circumambient Bodies, instruct us: For the Testimony of the Senses is never exactly true, but commonly every way false, as I

have made appear in this Treatise; and 'tis for that Reason I say 'tis an harder thing than is be∣liev'd, to prove positively the Existence of Bodies, though our Senses tell us they exist; because Reason does not so readily inform us, as we imagine; and it must be most attentively consulted to give us a clear Resolve.

But as Men are more Sensible than Reasonable, so they more willingly listen to the Verdict of the Senses, than the Testimony of internal Truth; and because they have always consulted their Eyes to be assur'd of the Existence of Matter, without troubling their Heads to advise with their Rea∣son; they are surpriz'd to hear it said, it is hard to demonstrate it. They think they need but open their Eyes, to see that there are Bodies; but if this does not take away all suspition of Il∣lusion, they believe it abundantly sufficient to come near and handle them; after which they can hardly conceive we can have any possible Reasons to make us doubt of their Existence.

But if we believe our Eyes, they'll tell us, that Colours are laid upon the surface of Bodies, and Light diffus'd in the Air and Sun; our Ears make us hear Sounds as undulated in the Air, and ecchoing from the ringing Bodies; and, if we credit the Report of the other Senses, Heat will be in the Fire, Sweetness in the Sugar, Odour in Musk, and all sensible Qualities in the Bodies which seem to exhale or disperse them. And yet it is certain, from the Reasons I have given in the First Book, concerning the Search after Truth, that these Qualities are not out of the Soul that feels them, at least it is not evident they are in the Bodies that are about us. What Reason there∣fore is there, from the Reports of our always-treacherous and delusive Senses; to conclude, there are actually Bodies without us, and that they are like those we see; I mean those which are the immediate Object of our Soul, when we behold them with bodily Eyes? Certainly this does not want Difficulty, whatever may be said of it.

Farther: If the Existence of any Body may be certainly prov'd upon the Testimony of our Senses, none could have better Pretence than That to which the Soul is immediately united: The liveliest Sensation, and that which seems to have the most necessary relation to an actually-existing Body, is Pain. And yet it often happens that those who have lost an Arm feel most violent Pains in it long after it has been cut off. They know well enough they want it, when they consult their Memory, or only look upon their Body; but the Sense of Pain deceives them: And if, as it often happens, they be suppos'd to have quite forgotten what formerly they were, and to have no other Senses left them than that whereby they feel Pain in their imaginary Arm; certainly they could not be convinc'd but that they had an Arm in which they felt so violent torment.

There have been those who have believ'd they had Horns on their Heads; others who have ima∣gin'd they were made of Butter, or Glass, or that their Body was not of the Shape of other Mens, but fashion'd like that of a Cock, a Wolf, or an Ox. But these, you'll say, were mad Men; and I readily believe it. But their Soul was capable of deceiving them about these things, and conse∣quently all other Men may fall into the same Errours, if they judge of Objects by the Testimony of their Senses: For it must be observ'd, that these mad Men actually feel themselves to be such as they think they are, and their Errour consists not in the Sensation they have, but in the Judg∣ment they make. If they should only say, they felt or saw themselves like Cocks, they would not be deceiv'd: But herein only they deceive themselves, in that they believe their Body like that they feel; I mean, like that which is the immediate Object of their Mind, when they consider it. And so those who believe themselves such as they really are, are no more judicious in their Judg∣ments they make of themselves than these mad Men, if they judge precisely by the Testimony of their Senses; but are to thank their Fortune more than their Reason, if they are not mistaken.

But at the Bottom, How can we be sure that those who go under the Notion of mad Men are really what they are taken for? May we not say they are reckon'd craz'd, because they have pe∣culiar Sentiments? For 'tis evident, that a Man is not reckon'd mad for having the Sense of what is not, but only for having a Sense of things quite contrary to that of others, whether their Sense be true or false, right or wrong.

A Clown, for Example, having his Eyes so dispos'd as to see the Moon just such as she is, or only so as she is beheld, or sometime may be hereafter, with new-invented Glasses looks on her with Ad∣miration, and cries to his Companions, What high Mountains and deep Valleys, what Seas,* 1.82 and Lakes, and Gulphs, and Rocks, do I behold! See, says he, what a vast Sea lies all along the East, whilst nothing but Land and Mountains extend from West to South! Don't you see on the same hand a Mountain higher than ever we beheld? And don't you wonder to see a Sea all over black, and an huge dreadful Gulph in the middle of the Planet? What would his Fellows an∣swer to such Exclamations? Or what would they think of him? Certainly, that he was Mad, or Lunatick, and distemper'd by the malign Influences of the Planet he beholds and admires: For no Man has the same Notions, and that's enough. Thus to be mad in the Opinion of others, there's no need to be really so, but only to have Thoughts and Sensation different from them: For if all Men should believe themselves to be Cocks, he that maintain'd he had an humane Shape would certainly go for a Fool or a Mad Man.

But you'll say, Has a Man a Beak at the end of his Nose, and a Comb upon his Head? I sup∣pose not; but I don't know so much, when I judge only by my Senses, and know not how to put them to their proper use. In vain shall I try by handling my Head and Face; for I feel my own Body, and those about me, but with Hands whose length and figure I don't know. Nay I can∣not be certainly assur'd whether I have truly Hands or not; for that which makes me think I have, is, that at the time that I seem to move them, there happen some Motions in a particular part of my Brain, which, in the vulgar Notion, is the Seat of the Common Sense. But it may be I

have not that Part which is so generally talk'd of, and so little known; at least I am not sensible of this, though I feel my Hands; so that I have more right to believe I have Hands than that little Gland which is still daily disputed against. But, Lastly, I know neither the Figure nor Motions of this Gland, and yet I am assured, that by them only I can be instructed in the Figure and Motion of my own Body, and those that are round about me.

Well then, What are we oblig'd to conclude from all this? Why, that 'tis not a Body that can give Light to Reason; that the Part to which the Soul is immediately united, is neither visible nor intelligible of it self; that neither our own nor surrounding Bodies can be the immediate Object of our Mind; that we cannot learn from our Brain so much, as whether it actually exists, much less whether there are circumambient Bodies: That therefore we are to fly to the Existence of some superiour Intelligence, who alone is capable of acting in us, in such a manner as to give a real Representation of external Bodies, without giving us any Idea of our Brain, though the Mo∣tions produc'd in it serve as an Occasion to this Intelligent Being, to discover these Bodies to us: For, in short, we see with Eyes, whose Figure we do not know, what is the Figure of external Bodies; and though the Colours which appear on Objects, are no livelier than those which are painted on the Optick Nerve, these are quite hid from us, whilst we admire the Splendour of the other.

But after all, Under what Obligation is an Intelligent Being to shew us Bodies upon some Mo∣tions happening in our Brain? Again, What Necessity is there of external Bodies for him to stir up these Motions in our Brain? Do not Sleep, Passions, and Madness, produce these Mo∣tions, though external Bodies do not contribute to them? Is it evident, that Bodies incapable of moving one another, * 1.83 should communicate to those they strike, a moving Force which they have not in themselves? But grant that Bodies move themselves, and those they strike against; can we thence infer, that he who gives Being to all things cannot immediately by himself stir up in our Brain the Motions to which the Ideas of our Mind are connected? Lastly, Where's the Contradiction, that our Soul should receive new Ideas whilst our Brain remains without new Mo∣tions; since it is certain the latter do not produce the former, since we have no Knowledge of these Motions, and that God alone can represent to us our Ideas, † 1.84 as I have elsewhere proved. Therefore 'tis absolutely necessary (positively to be assured of the Existence of external Bodies) to know God who gives us the Sensation of them; and to know, that, because he is infinitely per∣fect, he cannot deceive us. For if the Intelligence, who furnishes us with the Ideas of all things, would, as I may say, divert himself, by representing Bodies as actually existing, whilst there was nothing of them, it is plain he could easily do it.

For these, or the like Reasons, M. des Cartes, resolving to establish his Philosophy on im∣movable Foundations, thought he had no right to suppose the Existence of Bodies, nor to prove them by sensible Arguments, though highly convincing with the common part of Mankind. Un∣doubtedly he knew as well as we, that he needed but open his Eyes to see Bodies, and to draw near and handle them, to be satisfied whether his Eyes abused him in their Reports. He well enough knew the Mind of Man, to judge that such like Proofs had been acceptable and welcome: But he did not seek for sensible Probabilities, nor vain and popular Applauses; preferring despis'd Truth before the Glory of an unmerited Reputation; and chusing rather to render himself ridicu∣lous to little Souls, by Doubts, thought by them extravagant, than to assert what he thought not certain and undeniable.

But though M. des Cartes has given the strongest Arguments that bare Reason could furnish out for the Existence of Bodies; though it be evident, that God is no Deceiver, and it may be said he would really deceive us, did we deceive our selves, whilst we made a due use of our Mind, and the other Faculties, whereof he is the Author; yet it may be affirmed, that the Existence of Matter is not yet perfectly demonstrated: For, in fine, in point of Philosophy, we are to believe nothing till the Evidence of it obliges us; but to make use of our Liberty as much as we can, giving no greater Extent to our Judgments than our Perceptions. Wherefore, when we see Bo∣dies, we should judge only that we see them, and that these visible or intelligible Bodies actually exist. But why must we judge positively there is a Material World without us, like the Intelli∣gible World we perceive?

But, say you, we see these Bodies without us, and likewise very remote from that we animate: We may then judge they are without us, and yet our Judgments reach no farther than our Per∣ceptions. But what? Don't we see Light without us, and in the Sun, though it be not in it? But be it so: Bodies that we see without us are really without us; for indeed it is not to be deny'd. But is it not evident that there are Outnesses, and Remotenesses, and intelligible Spaces in the in∣telligible World, which is the immediate Object of our Mind? The material Body which we animate (observe it well) is not the same we see when we behold it, I mean when we turn our corporeal Eyes upon it, but an intelligible Body; and there are intelligible Spaces between this in∣telligible Body and the intelligible Sun we see, as there are material Spaces between our Body and the Sun which we behold. Certainly God ordain'd Spaces between Bodies which he created, but he neither sees these Bodies nor these Spaces by themselves; he can only see them by Bodies and Spaces intellectual: God derives no Knowledge but from himself; he sees not the material World, save in the intelligible World which he comprehends, and in the Knowledge he has of his own Will, which gives actually Existence and Motion to all things. Therefore there are intelligible Spaces between the intelligible Bodies which we immediately see, as there are material Spaces be∣tween Bodies which our Eyes behold.

Now it ought to be observ'd, that as there is none but God who knows his Will by himself, which produces all Beings; it is impossible to know from any other, whether there be actually without us •• material World like that we see; because the material World is neither Visible, nor Intelligible of it self. Therefore to be fully convinc'd of the Existence of Bodies, it is not only necessary to de∣monstrate there is a God, and that he is no Deceiver; but also that this God has assur'd us there is such a World actually created: Which thing I find wanting in M▪ des Cartes's Works.

God speaks to the Mind, and obliges it to assent but two several ways. By Evidence and Faith. I acknowledge that Faith obliges us to believe the Existence of Bodies: But as to Evidence, me∣thinks it wants something to be perfect; and that we are not invincibly carry'd to believe there is any thing Existing besides God and our own Mind. 'Tis true, we have an extream propension to be∣lieve there are such things, as circumambient Bodies; So far I agree with M. des Cartes. But this Propension however natural, does not evidently force us; but only perswasively induce us, by the impression. But we ought only to form our Free Judgments, as Light and Evidence oblige us: for if we leave our selves to the guidance of sensible Impressions, we shall seldom or ever be unmistaken.

For how comes it that we erre in the Judgments we make about sensible Qualities, about the Magnitude, Figure, and Motion of Bodies, but from our following an Impression like that which indu∣ces us to believe the Existence of Bodies? Do not we sensibly perceive the Fire to be hot, Snow to be white, and the Sun to be all glorious with a radiating Light? Do not we see that sensible Qualities no less than Bodies are without us? And yet 'tis certain, that the former which we see without us are not really so; or if you had rather, there is no certainty about it. What Reason then have we to judge, that besides intelligible Bodies which we see there are others that we behold. Or what Evidence can a Man have, that an Impression, not only delusive, in respect of sensible Qualities, but also in regard to the Magnitude, Figure, and Motion of Bodies, should not be as treacherous in respect to the actual Existence of the Bodies themselves: I ask, what Evidence can a Man have? For as to Probabilities I grant they are not wanting.

I know very well there's this Difference between sensible Qualities, and Bodies; that Reason much easier corrects the Impression, or natural Judgments which relate to sensible Qualities, than those which concern the Existence of Bodies: and likewise that all the corrections made by Reason, with reference to sensible Qualities, perfectly comport with Religion, and Christian Morality, and that we cannot deny the Existence of Bodies, through a Principle of Religion.

'Tis easie to conceive that Pleasure, and Pain, Heat, and even Colours, are not Modes of corpo∣real Existence; that sensible Qualities in general are not contain'd in the Idea we have of Matter. In a Word, that our Senses do not represent sensible Objects, as they are in their own nature, but as they are with reference to the preservation of our Health and Life; which is conformable, not only to Reason, but much more to Religion, and Christian Morality; as has been evidenc'd in se∣veral places of this Treatise.

But 'tis not so easie to be positively ascertain'd of the Non-existence of External Bodies, as it is to be positively convinc'd, that Pain and Heat are not in the Bodies which seem to cause them in us. 'Tis most certain, at least, that there's a possibility of outward Bodies: We have no Argument to prove there are none, and we have a very strong inclination to believe there are; and there∣fore we have more reason to conclude for the Existence than the Non-existence of them; and conse∣quently it seems that we ought to believe they are. For we are naturally inclin'd to follow our na∣tural Judgment so long as it's not positively corrigible by Light and Evidence. For every natural Judgment coming from God may be rightly seconded by our free Judgments, when God furnishes us not with means to manifest its falsity; And if on such occasions we mistake, the Author of our Mind may seem in a manner to be the Author of our Errors and Delinquencies.

This Reasoning is, possibly, good: though it must be acknowledg'd that it ought not to go for an Evident Demonstration of the Existence of Bodies: For indeed God does not irresistibly force us to consent to it; if we give our consent, it is a free act, and we may with-hold it if we please: If this arguing I have made be just, we are to believe it highly probable, that there are Bodies; but this bare Argumentation alone ought not to give us a plenary Conviction and Acquiescence; otherwise, it is we our selves that act, and not God in us; it being by a free act, and consequently liable to Error, that we consent, and not by an invincible Impression: for we believe it freely be∣cause we will, and not because we see any obliging Evidence.

Surely nothing but Faith can convince us of the actual Existence of Bodies: We can have no exact Demonstration of any other Being's Existence, than the necessary: and if we warily consider it, we shall find it even impossible to know with perfect Evidence, whether GOD is, or is not the Creatour of a Material, and sensible World; for no such Evidence is to be met with, except in necessary Relations, which are not to be found betwixt GOD, and such a World as this. It was possible for him not to have created it: If he has made it, it is because he will'd it, and freely will'd it.

The Saints in Heaven see by an evident Light, That the FATHER begets the SON, and that the HOLY GHOST proceeds from the FATHER and the SON; for these are ne∣cessary Emanations: But the World being no necessary Emanation from GOD; those who most clear∣ly see his Being, see not evidently his External Productions. Nevertheless I am perswaded, that the Blessed are certain of the World's Existence; but 'tis because GOD assures them of it, by ma∣nifesting his Will to them, in a manner by us unknown; and we on Earth are certain too: but 'tis because Faith obliges us to believe, That GOD has created this World; and that this Faith is

conformable to our natural Judgments, or our compound Sensations, when they are confirm'd by all our Senses, corrected by our Memory, and rectify'd by our Reason.

I confess, that at first sight the Proof or Principle of our Faith seems to suppose the Existence of Bodies: Fides ex auditu. It seems to suppose Prophets, Apostles, Sacred-Writ and Miracles; but if we closely examine it, we shall find, that in supposing but the Appearances of Men, Prophets, Apostles, Holy Scripture, Miracles, &c. what we have learn'd from these supposs'd Appearances, stands undeniably certain; since, as I have prov'd in several places of this Work, GOD only can represent to the Mind these pretended Appearances; and He is no Deceiver. For Faith supposes all this, Now in the Appearance of Holy Scripture, and by the Seemingness of Miracles, we learn, That GOD has created an Heaven and an Earth, that the Word is made Flesh, and other such like Truths, which suppose the Existence of a created World. Therefore Faith verifies the Existence of Bodies; and all these Appearances are actually substantiated by it. 'Tis needless to in∣sist longer upon answering an Objection, which seems too abstracted for the common part of Men; and I believe that this will be enough to satisfie those who pretend not to be over-difficult.

From all which we are to conclude, That we both may, and ought to correct our Natural Judg∣ments, or compound Perceptions, which relate to the sensible Qualities, we attribute to the Bodies that surround us, or to That we animate. But as for natural Judgments, which relate to the actu∣al Existence of Bodies; though absolutely, we are not oblig'd to form free ones to accord with them; yet we ought not to supersede doing it, because these natural Judgments agree perfectly with Faith.

Finally, I have made this Explanation, chiefly to the intent we may seriously reflect upon this Truth; That nothing but Eternal Wisdom can enlighten us, and that all sensible Notices, wherein our Body is concern'd, are fallacious; at least are not attended with that Light, which we feel our selves oblig'd to submit to. I am sensible that these Notions will not pass with the common sort of Men; and that as they are dispos'd by the Superfluity, or Poverty of their Animal Spirits, they will either ridicule, or flinch at the Reasonings I have laid down. For the Imagination cannot en∣dure abstract and un-ordinary Truths: but either considers them as ghastly Spectres, or ridiculous Phantasms; But I chuse rather to be the Subject of Droll, and Raillery for the strong and bold Ima∣gination, and the Object of Indignation, and Fear to the weak and timorous; than to be wanting in what I owe to Truth, and to those generous Defenders of the Mind against the Efforts of the Body, who know how to distinguish the Responses of illuminating Wisdom, from the confus'd Noise of the perplexing, and erroneous Imagination.

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

I Had no mind to speak in this Chapter of the Memory, and spiritual Habits, for several Rea∣sons; the chief of which is, That we have no clear Idea of our Soul. For how can we clearly explain what are the Dispositions which the Operations of the Soul leave in her; (which Dis∣positions are her Habits) whilst we have no clear Knowledge of the Nature of our Soul? 'Tis plain that 'tis impossible to know distinctly the Changes, whereof a Being is capable, when we have no distinct Knowledge of the Nature of that Being. For if, for Instance, we had no clear Idea of Ex∣tension, in vain should we endeavour to discover its Figures. However, since I am desir'd to speak of a Matter which I know not in it self; see what a compass I fetch, that I may only keep to clear Idea's.

I suppose that there's none but God who acts upon the Mind, and represents to it the Idea's of all things; and that if the Mind perceive any Object by a very clear and distinct Idea, 'tis because God represents that Idea in a most perfect manner.

I farther suppose, that the Will of God being entirely conformable to ORDER, and Justice, we need but to have a Right to any thing, to obtain it. The Suppositions being laid down, which are easily conceiv'd, the Spiritual Memory is readily explain'd. For Order requiring, that Spirits, which have frequently thought of any Object, should more easily think again upon it, and have a more clear and lively Idea of it, that those who have but seldom consider'd it; The Will of God, which continually operates by Order, represents to their Understanding, as often as desir'd, the clear and lively Idea of that Object. So that according to this Explication, the Memory, and other Habits of pure Intelligences, consists not in an Easiness of operating, which results from any Modifica∣tions of their Being; but in the immutable Order of God, and in a Right the Mind obtains to those things, which have been already submitted to it. And all the Power of the Mind immediately and

solely depends on God alone; the force or facility of acting, which all Creatures have in their O∣perations, being in this Sence but the efficacious Will of the Creatour.

Nor do I think we are oblig'd to give up this Explication, by reason of the evil Habits of Sinners▪ and damn'd Persons. For tho' God does all that is Real, and Positive in the Actions of Sinners, it is evident, by what I have said in the first Illustration, that he is not the Author of Sin.

Nevertheless I believe, as I think I ought, that after the Action of the Soul, there remain some Changes which dispose it to that same Action again. But as I know them not, so I cannot explain them; for I have no clear Idea of my own Mind, wherein to discover all the Modifications it is capable of. I believe by Theological, and not clear and evident Proofs;* 1.85 that the Reason of pure Intelligences seeing the Objects they have before consider'd, more distinctly than others, is not meer∣ly because God represents them in a livelier and perfecter manner; but because they are really more dispos'd to receive the same Action of God in them. Just as the facility of playing on an Or∣gan, which some have acquir'd, proceeds not from any greater Force and Action, which the Ani∣mal Spirits (that are necessary to the Motion of the Fingers) have in them, than in other Men: but from the Smoothness, and Glibness which the Passages of the Animal Spirits have gotten by Exer∣cise, as in this Chapter is explain'd: But yet I grant the Use of Memory, and the other Habits is unnecessary in those, who being perfectly united to God, find in his Light, all sorts of Idea's; and in his Will, all the facility of acting that can be desired.

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

IN order to answer methodically to the Difficulties that may arise, touching Original Sin, and its manner of Derivation from Fathers to Children; I thought fit to exhibit in few words, what I have said on that Subject, in several places of the foregoing Treatise. Here follow my prin∣cipal Proofs, which I have disposed after a particular fashion, to make them more sensible to those that will consider them.

I.

God wills Order in his Works. What we clearly conceive to be agreeable to Order, God wills; and what we conceive clearly to be repugnant to It, God wills not: which is a Truth, manifest to all those who can consider the infinitely perfect Being, with a steady and clear'd View. Nothing can unfix, or trouble their prospect of this Truth; whilst they clearly see, that all the Difficulties that can be raised against this Principle, proceed but from the Ignorance of those things which are necessary to be known to solve them.

II.

God has no other End in his Operations, than himself; this Order demands.

III.

God creates, and preserves the Mind of Man to be taken up with him, to know and to love him; as being himself the End of his own Works; Order will have it so. God cannot will, that a Being should love what is not amiable; or rather, He cannot will, that what is less amiable, should be more beloved. Therefore 'tis evident that Nature is corrupted, and in Disorder, since the Mind loves Bodies that are not amiable, and that commonly more than God. Original Sin, then, or the Corruption of Nature, needs no Proof: For every one finds plain enough in himself a Law, which captivates and disorders him; a Law that is not given by God, since it is contrary to Order, by which His Will is governed.

IV.

Nevertheless Man before his Fall, was admonished by preventing Sensations; and not by clear Knowledge, whether he ought to unite to, or separate from the encompassing Bodies; Order re∣quired it. 'Tis a Disorder, that the Mind should be oblig'd to apply it self to them: for though it may be united to them, it is not made for them. It ought therefore to have Knowledge of God, and Sense of Bodies. Again; whereas Bodies are incapable of being the Good of the Mind, it would with Regret and Pain, unite to them, if it knew them to be only what they are, without be∣ing sensible of something in them, which is not. Wherefore the Counterfeit Good ought to be dis∣cerned by a preventing Sensation, that it may be lov'd with a Love of Instinct; and the True Good ought to be known by a clear Knowledge, that it may be lov'd with a rational Love, and a Love of Choice. Lastly, Man being made, and preserved by God, to know, and love him; ought not to

have the Capacity of his Mind either possess'd, or shar'd in spight of him, with the Knowledge of the infinite Figures, and Configurations of Bodies about him, or of that he animates; and yet to know by a clear Knowledge, Whether such a Fruit, at such a Season, be fit for Nourishment of his Body, manifestly requires the Intelligence of so many things, and the making so many Argumen∣tations, as would quite fill up the most comprehensive of created Minds.

V.

But though the first Man was advertis'd by preventing Sensations, Whether he ought, or ought not to make use of surrounding Bodies, yet he was not mov'd by involuntary, and rebellious Passions; and he obliterated out of his Mind the Idea's of sensible things, when he pleas'd, whe∣ther he us'd them or not; because Order would have it so. The Mind may be united to a Body, but it should command it, and not depend on it. Again, All the Love which God invests us with, ought to terminate on him, because he produces nothing in us but what is for himself. Lastly, Bo∣dies are not amiable; but below what within us is capable of loving. Therefore in the first Institu∣tion of Nature, Bodies could not turn our Mind towards them, nor incline it to consider them, and love them, as its Goods.

VI.

The Bodies about us act not on our Soul, save when they produce some Motions in our Body, and that these Motions are communicated to the principal Part of our Brain. For it is by the Changes which happen in this Part, that the Soul changes her self, and finds her self mov'd by sensible Ob∣jects. This I have sufficiently prov'd, and Experience demonstrates the same. Which being sup∣pos'd, it is clear, from the preceding Article, that Adam stopt when he pleas'd, the Motions communicated to his Body, at least those communicated to the principal part of his Brain: Order will'd it so; and consequently He whose Will always conforms to Order, and who can do nothing a∣gainst It though He be Almighty. Thus Man might, on certain Occasions, suspend the Natural Law of the Communication of Motions, seeing he was not tainted with Concupisence, nor did he feel in himself any involuntary and rebellious Motions.

VII.

But Adam lost that Power by sinning; Order would have it so: for it is not reasonable, that in Favour of a Sinner, and a Rebel, there should be any other Exceptions, to the general Law of the Communication of Motions, than what are absolutely necessary to the Preservation of our Life and Civil Society. Therefore the Body of Man being continually shaken, by the Action of sensible Objects, and his Soul agitated by all the Concussions of the principal part of his Brain, he is be∣come a dependent on the Body, to which he was only united, and over which he had a Sovereign∣ty before his Fall.

VIII.

Let us see now how the first Man was capable of sinning. It is natural to love Pleasure, and to tast it; and this was not forbidden Adam. The Case is the same with Joy: one may rejoice at the sight of his Natural Perfections; That is not evil in it self. Man was made to be happy, and 'tis Pleasure and Joy which actually beatifie and content: Adam therefore tasted Pleasure in the use of sensible Goods; and he felt a Joy upon viewing his own Perfections: For 'tis impossible to consider ones self, as happy, or perfect, and not be possess'd with it. He felt no such Pleasure in his Duty; for though he knew God was his Good, it was not in a sensible way; as I have prov'd in several places. So the Joy he might find in his Duty, was not very sensible; which being sup∣pos'd, we conclude, That whereas the first Man had not an infinite Capacity of Mind, his Plea∣sure, or his Joy weakned its clear sight, which gave him to know, That God was his Good, and that he ought only to love him. For Pleasure is in the Soul, and the Modification of it; and therefore fills up our Capacity of Thought, proportionably as it affect and works on us: this is a thing which we learn by Experience, or rather from that inward Sensation we have of our selves. We may then conceive, That the first Man having insensibly suffer'd the Capacity of his Mind, to be possess'd, or divided, by the lively Sense of a presumptuous Joy, or, it may be, some Love, or sensible Pleasure; the Presence of God, and the Consideration of his Duty were eras'd from his Mind, for neglecting couragiously to pursue his Light in the Search of his True Good: so this Di∣straction made him capable of falling. For his principal Grace and strength was his Light, and the clear Knowledge of his Duty; forasmuch as then he had no need of preventing Delights, which are now necessary to oppose to Concupisence.

IX.

And it must be observ'd, that neither the preventing Sense of Pleasure, which Adam felt in the use of the Goods of the Body, nor the Joy that possess'd him, when reflecting on his own Happi∣ness or Perfection, was the true Cause of his Fall; for he knew very well, that none but God could give him that Sense of Pleasure or Joy: and so he in Duty should have lov'd him only, for∣asmuch as none merits our Love, save the true Cause of our Felicity. As nothing perturbated his Knowledge and Light, whilst he strove to keep it pure and incorrupt; so he might, and ought to have expung'd from his Mind, those Sensations which divided it, and which endanger'd its falling off, and losing sight of him, who strengthened, and enlightned it. He ought to have well re∣membred, that if God offer'd himself not to his Sense, but only his Vnderstanding, as his Good, it was to afford him a readier way to merit his Reward, by a continual Exercise of his Liberty.

Supposing then, That Adam and Eve have sinn'd, and consequently thereupon felt in themselves

involuntary and rebellio••s Motions; I say, That their Children must needs be born Sinners, and subject, as they were, to Motions of Concupiscence. See my Reasons for it.

X.

I have prov'd at large, in the Chapter that occasion'd this Discourse, that there is such a Com∣munication between the Brain of the Mother, and that of the Child, that all the Motions and Traces excited in the former, are stirr'd up in the latter. Therefore as the Soul of the Infant is united to its Body, at the very instant of its Creation, it being the Conformation of the Body, which obliges God, in consequence of his general Will, to inform it with a Soul; 'tis plain, that at the very moment of this Soul's Creation, it has corrupt Inclinations, and turns towards the Body: since it has, from that same moment, ••nclinations answerable to the Motions that are actually in the Brain it is united to.

XI.

But because it is a Disorder, That the Mind should propend to Bodies, and expend its Love up∣on them; the Infant is a Sinner, and in Disorder, as soon as out of the Hands of his Maker. God, who is the Lover of Order, hates him in this Estate; notwithstanding his Sin is not free and eligi∣ble. But his Mother conceiv'd him in Iniquity, because of the Communication establish'd by the Order of Nature, betwixt her Brain, and the Brain of her Infant.

XII.

Now this Communication is very good in its Institution, for several Reasons. First, Because use∣ful, and it may be, necessary to the Conformation of the Foetus. Secondly, Because the Infant, by this means, might have some Intercourse with his Parents; it being but reasonable, that he should know, to whom he was oblig'd for his Body, which he animated. Lastly, He could not, but by help of this Communication, know external Occurrences, and think of them, as he should do. Having a Body, 'twas fit he should have Thoughts relating to it, and not be hood-wink'd to the Works of God, amongst which he liv'd. There are, likely, many other Reasons for this Com∣munication than those I have given; but these are sufficient to justifie it, and to cover His Conduct from Censure and Reproach, every Will of whom is necessarily conformable to ORDER.

XIII.

However, there is no Reason, that the Infant, in spight of his Will, should receive the Traces of sensible Objects. If the Souls of Children were created but one moment before they were uni∣ted to their Bodies; if they were but an instant in a State of Innocence and Order; they would have plenary Right and Power, from the necessity of Order, or of the Eternal Law, to suspend that Communication: just as the first Man, before his Sin, stopt when he pleas'd the Motions which arose in him; Order requiring, That the Body should be obedient to the Mind. But where∣as the Souls of Children were never well-pleasing to God; it was never reasonable, that God on their behalf should dispence with the Law of the Communication of Motions; and so it is just that Infants should be born Sinners, and in Disorder. And the Order of Nature, which is just, and equitable, was not the Cause of their Sin; but the Sin of their Progenitors. In which sence it is not just and reasonable, that a sinful Father should procreate Children perfecter than himself, or that they should have a Dominion over their Bodies, which their Mother has not over her own.

XIV.

'Tis true, That after the Sin of Adam, which ruin'd and corrupted all things, God might by changing something in the Order of Nature, have remedied the Disorder which that Sin had caus'd. But God changes not his Will in that manner: He wills nothing but what is just, and what He once wills, He ever wills. He never corrects himself, nor repents of what he does; but his Will is con∣stant and immutable. His Eternal Decrees depends not on the inconstant Will of Man, nor is it just they should be submitted to it.

XV.

But if it may be permitted to dive into the Councels of the Almighty, and to speak our Thoughts upon the Motives, which might determine him to establish the Order now explain'd, and permit the Sin of Adam; I can't see how we can conceive a Notion more worthy the Greatness of God, and more consonant to Reason and Religion, than to believe his principal Design in his External Operations, was the Incarnation of his SON, That God establish'd the Order of Nature,* 1.86 and permitted the Disorder which befel it, to help forward his Great Work; that He permitted all Men to be subject to Sin, that none might glory in himself; and suffer'd Concupiscence in the Perfectest, and Holiest of Men, lest they should take a vain Complacency in their own Per∣sons. For upon considering the Perfection of one's Being, 'tis difficult to despise it, unless, at the same time, we contemplate, and love the Supreme Good; before whom all our Perfection and Greatness dissolves, and falls to nothing.

I own, That Concupiscence may be the occasion of our Merit, and that 'tis most just the Mind should for a Season follow Order with Pain and Difficulty, that it may merit to be eternally subject to it with Ease and Pleasure. I grant, That upon that Prospect God might have permitted Con∣cupiscence, when he foresaw the Sin. But Concupiscence not being absolutely necessary to our Merit∣ing, if God permitted it, it was, That Man might be able to do no good, without the Aids which JESUS CHRIST has merited for him: and that he might not glory in his own strength. For 'tis visible, That a Man cannot encounter and conquer himself, unless animated by the Spirit

of Christ, who, as Head of the Faithful, inspires them with quite opposite Sentiments to those of Concupiscence, deriv'd to them from the Original Man.

XVI.

Supposing then, That Infants are born with Concupiscence, 'tis plain they are effectively Sinners, since their Heart is set upon Bodies as much as it is capable: there is as yet in their Will but one Love, and that disorder'd and corrupt; and so they have nothing in them that can be the Object of the Love of God, because he cannot love Disorder.

XVII.

But when they have been regenerated in JESUS CHRIST, that is, when their Heart has been converted to God, either by an actual Motion of Love, or by an internal Disposition, like that which remains after an Act of Loving God: then Concupiscence is no more a Sin in them, because it does not solely possess the Heart, nor domineer any longer in it. Habitual Love, which remain•• in them, through the Grace of Baptism in our LORD, is more free, or more strong than that which is in them through the Contagion of Concupiscence deriv'd from Adam. They are like the Just, who in their Sleep obey the Motions of Concupiscence, yet lose not the Grace of their Baptism, because their Consent to these Motions is involuntary.

XVIII.

It should not be thought strange, That I believe it possible for Children to love God with a Love of Choice, at the time of their Baptism. For since the Second Adam is contrary to the First, why should he not, at the time of Regeneration, deliver Children from the Servitude of their Body, whereunto they are subjected by the First? That being enlightned and quickned by a lively and efficacious Grace, to the loving of God, they may love him with a free and rational Love, without being obstructed by the first Adam. You say, it is not observable, that their Body for a moment leaves acting on the Mind: But is that such a Wonder, that we can't see what is not visible? One single Instant is sufficient for the Exercise of that Act of Love: And as it may be perform'd in the Soul, without imprinting any Footsteps in the Brain, 'tis no more to be admir'd, that the Adult in their Baptism do not always mind it; for we have no Memory of things which are not regist∣red in the Traces of the Brain.

XIX.

St. Paul teaches us, That the Old Man, or Concupiscence, is crucify'd with JESUS CHRIST, and that we are dead and buried with him by Baptism. What means this, but that then we are deliver'd from the Warring of the Body against the Mind, and that Concupiscence is as it were Morti∣fy'd in that moment: 'Tis true it revives; but having been destroy'd, and thereby left Children in a State of loving God, it can do them no harm by its reviving. For when there are two Loves in the Heart, a Natural, and a Free, Order will, that the Free be only respected. But if Infants in Baptism lov'd God by an Act in no wise free, and afterwards lov'd Bodies by many Acts of the same Species; God could not perhaps, according to Order, have more respect to one single Act, than to many, which were all natural, and without Liberty. Or rather, if their contrary Love•• were equal in force, he must have respect to that which was last; by the same Reason, that when there has been successively in an Heart Two Free-Loves contrary to each other, God has always re∣spect to the Last, since Grace is destroy'd by any one Mortal Sin.

XX.

Nevertheless, it cannot be deny'd, but God may justifie the Infant, without interrupting the Dominion of his Body over his Mind; or convert his Will towards him, by depositing in his Soul a Disposition like that, which remains after an Actual Motion of our Loving God. But that way of acting, I doubt, seems less Natural than the Other; for it cannot clearly be conceiv'd what these remaining Dispositions can be. 'Tis true, that ought not to be much admir'd; since having no clear Idea of our Soul,* 1.87 as I have elsewhere prov'd, we need not wonder if we know not all the Modifications it is capable of. But the Mind cannot be fully satisfied upon things, which it does not clearly conceive; and without recourse to an extraordinary Miracle, we cannot see what can give the Soul these Dispositions, without a preceding Act: surely it cannot be done by ways that seem most plain and simple. Whereas the second Adam acting on the baptiz'd Infant's Mind for one moment, the contrary to what the first Adam produc'd in it before, Regeneration is perform'd by the usual ways of acting which God takes in his sanctifying the Adult: For the Infant, at that moment, being void of Sensations and Passions, which divide its Thinking and Willing Capacity, has nothing to encumber it, and prevent its knowing and loving its true Good. This is all I say at present, because it is not necessary to know precisely, how Regeneration of Infants is perform'd; provided we admit in them a true Regeneration, or an inward and real Justification, caus'd by Acts, or at least by Habits of Faith, Hope, and Charity. My offering an Explication, so repug∣nant to Prejudices, is design'd for the Satisfaction of those, who will not allow of Spiritual Habits, and to prove to them the Possibility of the Regeneration of Infants: For the Notion of Imputa∣tion seems to me to include a manifest Contradiction; it being impossible, That God should con∣sider his Creatures as Righteous, and actually love them, whilst they are actually in Disorder and Corruption. Though he may for his SON's sake have a Design to re-instate them in ORDER, and love them when re-instated.

OBJECTIONS Against the Proofs and Explications of Original Sin.

OBJECTION against the first Article.

GOD wills Order, it is true; but 'tis his Will that makes it: it does not suppose it: What∣ever God wills is in Order purely for this Reason that God wills it:* 1.88 If God wills that Minds should be subject to Bodies, should love and fear them, there is no disorder in all this. If God will'd that two times two should not be four, we should not speak false, in saying two times two were not four: For it would be a Truth. God is the Principle of all Truth: and the Master of all Order: he supposes nothing; neither Truth, nor Order: but makes all.

ANSWER.

Then all is thrown in Confusion. There is no longer any Science nor Morality, nor undeniable Proofs of our Religion. Which consequence is evident to any Man who clearly comprehends this false Principle; That God produces Order and Truth by a Will absolutely Free. But this is not to answer it.

I Answer then that God can neither do nor will any thing without knowledge; that therefore his Will supposes something; but what it supposes is nothing of a created nature, Order, Truth, Eternal Wisdom, is the Exemplar of all the Works of God: which Wisdom is not made; God who makes all things never made it, though he constantly begets it by the necessity of his Being.

Whatever God wills is in Order, for that sole reason, that he wills it: No body denies it. But this is because God cannot act against himself, that is, his Wisdom and his Knowledge. He is at liberty not to produce any External Work: but supposing he will act; he cannot act other∣ways than by the immutable order of his Wisdom, which he necessarily Loves. For Religion and Reason teach me that he works nothing without his SON, without his WORD, without his WISDOM. Therefore I fear not to affirm, that God cannot positively will that the mind should be subject to the Body. Because that Wisdom, whereby God wills, whatever he wills, makes me clear∣ly understand it is contrary to Order: And I see this clearly in that same Wisdom; because it is the Soveraign and Universal Reason, which is participated by all Spirits, for which all Intelligences are created, and by which all Men are Reasonable. For no Man is his own Reason, Light, and Wisdom; unless it be when his Reason is Particular, his Light, an Ignis fatuus, and his Wisdom Folly.

As the Generality of Men know not distinctly that it is only Eternal Wisdom which enlightens them; and that Intelligible Ideas which are the Immediate object of their Mind, are not created; so they imagine, that Eternal Laws and Immutable Truths, receive their Establishment from a free will of God. And this is what occasion'd M. des Cartes to say, that God was able to effect that twice four should not be eight; and that the three Angles of a Triangle should not be equal to two Rights. Because there is no Order, says he, no Law, no Reason, Goodness or Truth, but depends on God, and that is he who from all Eternity, has ordain'd and establish'd, as supreme Legislator, Eternal Truths.* 1.89 This Learned Man did not observe that there was an Order, a Law, a Sovereign Reason Coeternal with God, and necessarily lov'd by him, and accordingly to which he must necessarily act, suppo∣sing he will act. For God is indifferent as to his External Workings, but the manner of his work∣ing, though he be perfectly free, is not indifferent to him. He always acts in the wisest and perfect∣est manner possible: he constantly follows immutable, and necessary Order. Thus God is at liber∣ty not to make either Spirits, or Bodies, but if he creates these two Kinds of Beings,* 1.90 he must create them by the simplest ways, and situate them in the most perfect Order. He may for Exam∣ple unite Spirits to Bodies, but I maintain that he cannot subject them thereunto, unless in pursuance of the Order which he always follows, the Sin of Spirits obliges him to use them in that manner: as I have already explain'd in the seventh Article, and in the first Explication towards the end.

To anticipate some instances that might be urg'd against me, I think it necessary to say that Men are to blame to consult themselves when they would know what God can do or will. They are not to judge of his wills by the inward sense they have of their own Inclinations. For otherwise they would often make him an unjust, cruel, sinful, instead of an Almighty God. They ought to lay aside the general Principle of their Prejudices, which disposes them to judge of all things with reference to themselves, and not to attribute to God what they do not clearly conceive to be included in the Idea of a Being infinitely perfect. For they ought not to judge of things save by clear Ideas. And

then the God they worship, will not be like those of Antiquity, Cruel, Adulterous, Voluptious, as the Persons who have imagin'd them: nor will he resemble the God of some Christians, who to make him as powerful as the Sinner wishes him, ascribe to him an actual power of acting against all Order, of leaving Sin unpunisht, and of condemning to eternal Torments Persons never so righteous and Innocent.

Second OBJECTION against the First Article.

If God wills Order, what is it that makes Monsters, I say not amongst Men; for they have sin∣ned, but amongst Animals and Plants? What is the cause of the general corruption of the Air which breeds so many Diseases? By what Order is it that the Seasons are so irregular, and that the Sun and the Frost burn up and kill the Fruits of the Earth? Is it to act with Wisdom and Order, to furnis•• an Animal with parts quite useless, and to congeal the Fruits after they are perfectly form∣ed? Is not this rather because God does what he pleases, and that his power supersedes all Order and Rule? For to mention things of greater Importance than the Fruits of the Earth, wherewith he may do as he sees good: the Clay whereof God makes Vessels of wrath, is the same with that which he fashions Vessels of Mercy:

ANSWER.

These are the difficulties which serve only to obscure the Truth, as proceeding from the dark∣ness of the Mind. We know that God is just: we see that the wicked are Happy: ought we to deny what wee see; ought we to doubt of what we know, because we may possibly be so stupid as not to know, and so Libertine as not to believe what Religion teaches us of future Torments? So we know that God is Wise; and all that he does is Good; mean while we see Monsters, or defective Works. What are we to believe that God is out of his aim, or that these Monsters are not his handiwork? Certainly if we have sence and constancy of Mind, we shall believe neither the one nor the other. For 'tis manifest that God does all, and that whatever he does is as perfect as possible, with relation to the simplicity and fewness of the means he imploys, in the Formation of his Work. We must hold fast to what we see, and not quit our ground for any difficulties im∣possible to be resolv'd; when our Ignorance is the cause of that Impossibility. If Ignorance must raise Difficulties, and such like Difficulties overthrow the best establisht Opinions, what will re∣main certain among Men who know not all things? What? Shall not the brightest Lights be able to disperse the least Darkness; and shall any little shadow Eclipse the clearest and the liveliest Light?

But though the answering such sort of Difficulties might be dispenc'd with, without Prejudice to the fore-establis••t Principle; yet it is not amiss to show they are not unanswerable. For the Mind of Man is so unjust in its Judgments, that it may possibly prefer the Opinions which seem to result from these imaginary Difficulties, before certain Truths, which no Man can doubt of, but because he will; and with that design ceases to examine them. I say then that God wills order, though there are Monsters; and 'tis moreover because God wills order, that there are Monsters; and this is my reason.

Order requires that the Laws of nature whereby God produces that infinite Variety, so conspi∣cuous in the World, should be very simple, and very few in number. Now 'tis the simplicity of these general Laws, which in some particular Junctures, and because of the Disposition of the sub∣ject, produces irregular Motions, or rather Monstrous Combinations: and consequently God's willing order is the cause of these Monsters. Thus God does not positively or directly will the Existence of Monsters: but he positively wills certain Laws of the Communication of Motions, whereof Monsters are the necessary consequences; because these Laws, though of a most simple kind, are nevertheless capable of producing that variety of forms which can't be sufficiently ad∣mired.

For Example: In consequence of the general Laws of the Communication of Motions, there are some Bodies which are driven near the Centre of the Earth. The Body of a Man, or an Animal is one of these: that which upholds him in the Air breaks under his Feet: is it just, or according to Order, that God should change his general Will, for that particular Case? Surely it seems not pro∣bable. That Animal therefore must necessarily break, or maim its Body. And thus we ought to argue about the generation of Monsters.

ORDER requires that all Beings should have what's necessary to their Preservation, and the Propagation of the Species; provided this may be done by most simple Means, and worthy the Wis∣dom of God. And so we see that Animals, as also Plants have general Means to preserve them∣selves, and to continue their Species: and if some Animals fail thereof, in some particular Occa∣sions, 'tis because these general Laws, whereby they were form'd, reach not these private Emer∣gencies, because they respect not Animals separately, but generally extend to all Beings; and that the Good of the Publick must be preferr'd before Particular Advantages.

'Tis evident, That if God made but one Animal, it would not be Monstrous: But Order would require, That he should not make that Animal by the same Laws that he at present forms all o∣thers; for the Action of God must be proportion'd to his Design. By the Laws of Nature he de∣signs not the making one Animal, but a whole World; and he must make it by the simpliest Means, as Order requires. 'Tis enough then that the World be not monstrous, or that the general Effects be suitable to the general Laws, to vindicate the Work of God from Censure and Reproach.

If, for all particular Changes, God had instituted so many particular Laws; or if He had con∣stituted in every Being a particular Nature or Principle, of all the Motions that arrive in it; I con∣fess it would be hard to ju••tifie his Wisdom against so visible Disorders. We should perhaps be forc'd to confess, either that God wills not Order, or that he knows not how, or is not able to re∣ctifie Disorder. For, in short, it seems to me impossible to ascribe an almost infinite Number of second Causes, of natural Forces, Vertues, Qualities and Faculties, to what we call the Sports and Disorders of Nature, with a Salvo to the infinite Power and Wisdom of the Author of all things.

OBJECTION against the Second Article.

GOD can never act for Himself. A wise Being will do nothing useless; but whatever God should do for himself, would be useless; because he wants nothing. God wills nothing for him∣self, if by the Necessity of his Essence he has all the Perfection he can desire. And if God desires nothing for himself, he works nothing for himself, since he works only by the Efficacy of his Will. The Nature of Good, is to be communicative and diffusive; 'tis to be useful to others, and not to it self; 'tis to seek out; 'tis, if it be possible, to create Persons whom it may make happy. There∣fore it is a Contradiction, for God, who is essentially and supremely good, to act for himself.

ANSWER.

GOD may be said to act for himself two ways; either with intent to derive some Advantage from what he does; or to the end, his Creature may find its Happiness and Perfection in him. I enquire not, at present, whether God acts for himself, in the first sense; and whether to receive an Honour worthy of himself, he has made, and restor'd all things by his SON, in whom, ac∣cording to the Scripture, all things subsist. I only assert, that God cannot create, and preserve Spirits, in order to know, and love created Beings. 'Tis an Immutable, Eternal, and necessary Law. That they should know, and love God; as I have explain'd in the Third Article. Thus this Objection does not impugn my Principle, but, on the contrary, corroborates it: and if it be certain, that 'tis the Nature of Good to disseminate, and communicate it self abroad, (for I stand not to examine that Axiome) 'tis evident, That God being essentially and supreamly Good, it is no Contradiction he should act in the Sence I intended.

OBJECTION against the Fourth Article.

Ignorance being a Consequence of Sin, Adam before his Fall had a perfect Knowledge of the Na∣ture of his own Body, and of those he liv'd amongst: He must, for Example, have been perfect∣ly acquainted with the Nature of all Animals, to give them, as he did, such Names as agreed to them.

ANSWER.

'Tis a Mistake: Ignorance is neither an Evil, nor a Consequence of Sin. 'Tis Errour or Blind∣ness of Mind, which is both one, and the other. None but God knows all things without any Shadow of Ignorance; Ignorance is incident to the brightest, and most enlightned Intelligences. Whatever is finite cannot comprehend Infinity: and thus there is no Spirit that can comprehend only all the Properties of Triangles; Adam knew, the first minute of his Creation, whatever was requisite he should know, and nothing more; and it was to no purpose for him to know exactly the Disposition of all the Parts of his Body, and of those he made use of: the Reasons are to be seen in this Article, and elsewhere.

The Imposition of Names, in Scripture,* 1.91 rather denotes the Authority than the perfect Knowledge of the Imposer. As the Lord of Heaven had made Adam the Lord of Earth, he conceded him the Privilege of giving Names to the Animals, as he himself had done to the Stars. 'Tis evident, That Sounds, or Words, neither have, nor can have any natural relation to the things they signifie; let the Divine Plato, and the Mysterious Pythagoras say what they please of it. One might perhaps ex∣plain the Nature of an Horse, or an Oxe, in an entire Book, but a Word is not a Book: and it's ridiculous to imagine, That Monosyllables, as Sus, which in Hebrew signifies a Horse, and S••bor, which signifies an Oxe, should represent the Nature of these Animals. Notwithstanding there is great probability these Names were impos'd by Adam, since they are found in Genesis:* 1.92 the Author whereof assures us, That the Names which Adam gave the Creatures were the same which were in use in his time; for I cannot see what else can be meant by these Words, Omne quod vocavit Adam animae viventis, ipsum est nomen ejus. And whatsoever Adam call'd every living Creature, that was the Name thereof

But I grant that Adam gave Names to Animals, which have some reference to their Nature, and I subscribe to the Learned Etymologies that an Author of this Age gives us of them. I will that he call'd domestick Animals Behemoth, because of their keeping silence; the Ram Ajil, because he is strong; the Buck Sair, because swift; the Hog Chazir, because of his little Eyes; the Ass Cha∣mor,

because in the East Country red Asses are common. But I can't conceive that any more is requisite, than to open the Eyes to know if a Buck be swift, an Ass red, and whether a Hog has little or great Eyes. Adam calls by the Name of Beir and Behemah, what we term a Brute, or a great domestick Creature, because these Beasts are mute and stupid. What should we thence con∣clude? That he knew perfectly their Nature? That is not evident: I should rather be apprehen∣sive, lest it should be thence concluded, That Adam, being simple enough to put a Question to an Oxe, as being the largest of domestick Animals, and wondring that he could not answer him, de∣spis'd him, and nam'd by a Term of Contempt, Beir and Behemah.

Second OBJECTION against the Fourth Article.

Some preventing Sensations are incommodious and painful: Adam was just and innocent, and consequently ought not to feel the smart of them. He ought then on all occasions to be guided by Reason and Knowledge, and not by preventing Sensations, like those we have at present.

ANSWER.

I confess there are preventing Sensations, which are disagreeable and painful, but they never occasion'd any Pain in the first Man; because in the instant they gave him any, he, by an Act of his Will, withstood the Impression, and, in the very instant of that Volition, he ceas'd to be touch'd with it. These Sensations did only respectfully caution him what ought to be done, or omitted; and did not incommode his Felicity: They but made him sensible that he was capable of losing it; and that he who made him Happy, could punish and make him miserable, if he fail'd in his Fide∣lity.

But to perswade our selves, that the first Man was never overtaken with the Sense of any lively Pain, we need but consider these two things. First, that Pain is very light, when the Motions it is annex'd to are very languid; because it is always proportion'd to the force of the Motions, that are communicated to the chief part of the Brain. Secondly, That is of the Nature of Motion, to include a Succession of Time; and it cannot be violent at the first instant of its Communication. Which being suppos'd, it is plain, that the first Man never felt a violent surprizing Pain, that was capable to make him miserable; because he could put a stop to the Motions that caus'd it. But if so be, he could effectually stop them, at the first instant of their Action, there is no doubt but he would do it, since he was always desirous of Happiness; and that Aversion is naturally conjoin'd to the Sense of Pain.

Adam therefore never suffer'd any violent Pain; but I think we are not oblig'd to say, that he never felt any light and inconsiderable smart, such as is that when we tast a sowre Fruit, supposing it to be ripe. His Felicity had been very tender, if so little a thing had been able to disturb it. For such Delicacy is a sign of Weakness: for how can that Joy and Pleasure be substantial, that such a Trifle can dissolve and annihilate? Pain never truly molests our Happiness but when it is involuntary, and possesses us in spight of our Resistance. JESUS CHRIST was happy, though on the Cross, in the midst of his Groans, and Agonies, because he suffered nothing, but what he was willing to undergo. Thus Adam suffering nothing against his will, it cannot be said we make him unhappy before his Sin, in supposing him admonish'd by preventing, but respectful, and submissive Sensations, of what he ought to avoid, for the preservation of his Life.

OBJECTION against the Fifth Article.

Adam felt preventing Pleasures: But these are involuntary Motions; Therefore Adam was agitated with involuntary Motions.

ANSWER.

I Answer that Adam's Sensations preceded his Reason, the proofs I have shown for it in the Fourth Article. But I deny that they preceded his Will; or that they stirr'd up in it any parti∣cular Motions. For Adam was willingly admonish'd by these Sensations, what he ought to do for the preservation of his Life: But he was never willing to be perturbated by them in spight of his VVill. For that's a Contradiction. Moreover, when he desir'd to apply himself to the contem∣plation of Truth, without any distraction of Thought, his Senses and his Passions kept an intire Si∣lence. Order would it should be so; for that's a necessary sequel of that absolute power he had over his Body.

* 1.93I answer secondly, that it is not true, that the Pleasure of the Soul is the same thing with its Motion, and its Love. Pleasure and Love are modes of the Souls Existence. But Pleasure has no necessary relation to the object that seems to cause it; and Love is necessarily related unto Good. Pleasure is to the Soul what Figure is to Body: and Motion is to Body what Love is to the Soul. But the Motion of a Body is very different from its Figure. I grant that the Soul which has a con∣stant Prope••sity to Good, advances, as I may say, more readily towards it, when instigated by a

sense of Pleasure, that when discourag'd by her suffering Pain; as a Body when driven runs easier along if it have a Spherical, than if it have a Cubical Figure. But the figure of a Body differs from its Motion, and it may be Spherical, and yet remain at rest. 'Tis true in this case it goes not with Spirits as with Bodies; those cannot feel a Pleasure but they must be in motion: because God who only makes, and preserves them for himself, drives them perpetually on towards good. But that does not prove that the pleasure of the Soul, is the same thing as its Motion: For two things, though differing from each other, may yet be always found inseparably together.

I answer lastly, that although pleasure were not different from the Love or Motion of the Soul, yet that which the first Man felt in the use of the goods of the Body, did not incline him to the Loving Bodies. 'Tis true, Pleasure carries the Soul towards the object, that causes it in her. But it is not the Fruit that we eat with Pleasure, which causes the Pleasure in us. Not Bodies but God only can act upon the Soul, and in any manner make it happy. And we are in an Error to think that Bodies have in them, what we feel occasionally from their presence. Adam before his Sin, be∣ing not so stupid as to imagine, that Bodies were the causes of his Pleasures, was not carry'd to the love of them, by the motions that accompany'd his Pleasures. If pleasure contributed to the fall of the first Man, it was not by working in him what at present it does in us; But only by fill∣ing up or dividing his capacity of Thought, it effac'd or diminish'd in his Mind the presence of his true good, and of his Duty.

OBJECTION against the sixth Article.

What likelyhood is there that the immutable Will of God had a dependance on the will of Man, and that on Adam's behalf there were exceptions made to the general Law of the Communication of Motions.

ANSWER.

At least it is not evident but such exception might be made; now it is evident that immutable or∣der requires the subjection of the Body to the Mind: and 'tis a contradiction for God not to love, and will order; * 1.94 for God necessarily loves his Son. Therefore it was necessary before the Sin of the first Man, that exceptions should be made in his favour to the general Law of the Communi∣cation of Motions. This seems it may be of a too abstracted nature: Here then is somewhat of a more sensible kind.

Man though a Sinner has the power of moving and stopping his Arm when he pleases. There∣fore according to the different Volitions of Man, the Animal Spirits are determin'd to the raising, or stopping some Motions in his Body; which certainly cannot be perform'd by the general Law of the Communication of Motions. If then the will of God be still submitted to our own: why might it not be submitted to the will of Adam? If for the good of the Body, and of civil Society, God stops the communication of motions in Sinners, why would he not do the like in favour of a Righteous Man, for the good of his Soul, and for the preservation of the Union and Society with his God for whom only he was made. As God will have no Society with Sinners, so af∣ter the Sin he depriv'd them of the power they had to sequester themselves, as it were, from the Body to unite themselves with him. But he has left them the Power of stopping or chang∣ing the communication of Motions, with reference to the preservation of Life, and of Civil So∣ciety. Because he was not willing to destroy his Work; having before the construction of it, de∣creed according to St. Paul, to re-establish and renew it in Jesus Christ.

OBJECTION against the Seventh Article.

Man in his present state conveys his Body all manner of ways: he moves at pleasure all the parts of it, which are necessary to be mov'd for the prosecution, and shunning of sensible good and evil: and consequently he stops or changes every moment the natural communication of motions, not only for trifles, and things of little importance, but also for things useless to Life and civil Society, and even for Crimes, which violate Society, shorten Life, and dishonour God all manner of ways. God wills order, it is true: But will order have the laws of motions violated for the sake of Evil, and kept inviolable on the account of Good. Why must Man lose the power of stop∣ping the motions which sensible objects produce in his Body, since these Motions keep him from doing good, from repairing to God, and returning to his duty? and yet retain the power of do∣ing so much evil, by his Tongue and his Arm, and other parts of his Body, whose motions de∣pend upon his will?

ANSWER.

To the answering this Objection it must be consider'd, that Man having sin'd ought to have re∣turn'd to his Original nothing. For being no longer in Order, nor able to retrieve it,* 1.95 he ought

to cease to Exist. God loves only order, the Sinner is not in order, and therefore not in the Love of God. The Sinner therefore cannot subsist, since the subsistence of Creatures depends on the will of the Creator; but he wills not that they should exist if he does not love them. The Sinner cannot by himself regain lost order, because he cannot justifie himself, and all that he can suffer cannot atone for his offence. He must then be reduc'd to nothing. But as it is unreasonable to think that God makes a Work to annihilate it, or to let it fall into a state worse than annihila∣tion, 'tis evident that God would not have made Man, nor permitted his Sin, which he foresaw, unless he had had in view the Incarnation of his Son; in whom all things subsist, and by whom the Universe receives a Beauty, a Perfection, and greatness worthy of the Wisdom and the Power of its Author.

Man▪ then, may be consider'd after his Sin without a Restorer, but under the Expectation of one. In considering him without a Restorer, we plainly see he ought to have no Society with God; that that he is unable of himself to make the least approaches to him; that God must needs repel him, and severely use him, when he offers to leave the Body to unite himself to him: that is to say, that Man after the Sin must lose the power of getting clear of sensible impressions, and motions of concupiscence. He ought likewise to be annihilated, for the foremention'd Reasons. But he expects a Restorer, and if we consider him under that Expectation, we see clearly that he must sub∣sist. He and his Posterity, whence his Restorer is to arise; and thus it is necessary that Man after his Sin preserve still the power of diversely moving all those parts of the Body, whose motion may be serviceable to his Preservation.

'Tis true that Men abuse daily the power they have of producing certain motions; and that their power of moving their tongue for Example, several ways, is the cause of innumerable Evils. But if it be minded, that power will appear absolutely necessary to keep up Society, to comfort one another in the Exigences of thi•• present Life, and to instruct them in Religion, which affords hope of a Redeemer; for whom the World subsists. If we carefully examine what are the mo∣tions we produce in us, and in what parts of our Body we can affect them, we shall clearly see that God has left us the power of our Body no farther than is necessary to the preservation of Life, and the cherishing and upholding civil Society. For example, the Beating of the Heart, the Dilatation of the Midriff, the peristaltick motion of the Guts, the Circulation of the Spirits, and Blood, and the diverse motions of the Nerves in the Passions, are produc'd in us without staying for the order of the Soul. As they ought to be much what the same on all occasions, nothing obliges God to submit them now to the will of Man. But the motions of the Muscles imploy'd in stir∣ring the Tongue, the Arms, and Legs, being to change every minute, according to the almost infinite diversity of good, or evil Objects all about us, it was necessary these motions should de∣pend on the will of Men.

But we are to remember, That God acts always by the simplest ways: and that the Laws of Nature ought to be general; and that so, God having given us the power of moving our Arm and Tongue, he ought not to take away that of striking a Man unjustly, or of slandering or re∣proaching him. For if our natural Faculties depended on our Designs, there would be no Uni∣formity nor certain Rule in the Laws of Nature: which however must be most simple and general, to be answerable to the Wisdom of God, and suitable to Order. So that God, in pursuance of his Decrees, chuses rather to cause the Materiality of Sin, as say the Divines, or to make use of the Injustice of Men, as says one of the Prophets, than by changing his Will to put a stop to the Dis∣orders of Sinners. But he defers his revenging the injurious Treatment, which they give him, till the time when it shall be permitted him to do it, without swerving from his immutable Decrees; that is to say, when Death having corrupted the Body of the voluptuous, God shall be freed from the necessity he has impos'd on himself, of giving them Sensations and Thoughts relating to it.

OBJECTION against the Eleventh and Twelfth Articles.

Original Sin not only enslaves Man to his Body, and subjects him to the Motions of Concupi∣scence, but likewise fills him with Vices wholly Spiritual: not only the Body of the Infant before Baptism being corrupted, but also his Soul, and all his Faculties stain'd and infected with Sin. Though the Rebellion of the Body be the principle of some grosser Vices, such as Intemperance and Vn∣cleanness, yet it is not the Cause of Vices purely Spiritual, as are Pride and Envy. And therefore Original Sin is something very different from Concupiscence, which is born with us: and is more likely the Privation of Grace, or of Original Righteousness.

ANSWER.

I acknowledge, That Children are void of Original Righteousness; and I prove it, in shewing, That they are not born upright, and that God hates them. For methinks one cannot give a clearer Idea of Righteousness and Vprightness, than to say a Will is upright when it loves God, and that it is crooked and perverse when it draws towards Bodies. But if by Righteousness, or Original Grace, we understand some unknown Qualities, like those which God is said to have infus'd into the Heart of the first Man, to adorn him, and render him pleasing in his sight; it is still evident, that the Privation of this is not Original Sin; for to speak properly, that Privation is not heredi∣tarily

transmitted. If Children have not these Qualities, 'tis because God does not give 'em them; and if God does not bestow them, 'tis because they are unworthy to receive them: and 'tis that Vworthiness which is transmitted, and which is the Cause of the Privation of Original Righteousness: And so that Vnworthiness is properly Original Sin.

Now this Unworthiness, (which consists, as I have shewn, in this: That the Inclinations of Children are actually corrupt, and their Heart bent upon the Love of Bodies;) this, I say, is really in them. 'Tis not the Imputation of the Sin of their Father; they are actually themselves in a disorder'd State. In like manner as those who are justify'd by JESUS CHRIST, of whom Adam was the Type, are not justify'd by Imputation: But are really restor'd to Order, by an in∣ward Righteousness, different from that of our LORD, though it be he that has merited it for them.

The Soul has but two natural or essential Relations; the one to God, and the other to her Body. Now 'tis evident, That the Relation, or Union which she has with God, cannot vitiate or corrupt her: and therefore she is neither vicious, nor corrupt, at the first instant of her Creation; but by the relation she has to her Body. Thus one of the two must needs be said, either that Pride, and other, which we call Spiritual Vices, can be communicated by the Body, or that Children are not subject to them at the moment of their Birth: I say at the moment of their Birth; for I do not deny but these ill Habits are easily acquir'd. Though pure Intelligences had no other relation than to God, and at the instant of their Creation were subject to no Vice, yet they fell into Disorder. But the Cause of it was their making a wrong use of their Liberty, whereof Infants have made no use at all: For Original Sin is not of a free Nature.

But to come to the Point; I am of Opinion, That they err, who think that the Rebellion of the Body is the Cause but of gross Vices, such as Intemperance and Vncleanness; and not of those which are call'd Spiritual, as Pride and Envy: and I am persuaded there is that Correspondence between the Disposition of our Brain, and those of our Soul, as that there is not perhaps any cor∣rupt Habit in the Soul, but what has its Principle in the Body.

St. Paul in several places terms by the Name of the Law, the Wisdom, the Desires, and the Works of the Flesh; whatever is contrary to the Law of the Spirit. He speaks not of Spiritual Vices; He reckons amongst the Works of the Flesh, Idolatry, Heresies, Dissentions, and many other Vices which go by the Name of Spiritual. To give way to Vain-glory, Wrath and Envy is, in his Doctrine, to follow the Motions of the Flesh. In short, It appears from the Expressions of that Apostle, That all Sin proceeds from the Flesh: not that the Flesh commits it, or that the Spirit of Man, without the Grace, or Spirit of CHRIST, can do good: but because the Flesh acts up∣on the Spirit in such a manner, that the latter works no evil without being sollicited to it by the former. Hear what St. Paul says in the Epistle to the Romans, I delight in the law of the Lord,* 1.96 af∣ter the inward Man. But I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin, which is in my members. And a little lower; So then with my mind I my self serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin: He speaks after the same man∣ner in several places of his Epistles. So that Concupiscence, or the Rebellion of the Body, not on∣ly disposes us to Carnal of shameful Vices, but likewise to those which are thought to be Spiritual. I here shall endeavour to prove it by a sensible manner.

When a Man's in Conversation, it is certain, as I think, that some Tracks are machinally pro∣duc'd in his Brain, and Motions excited in his Animal Spirits, that beget in his Soul corrupt Thoughts and Inclinations. Our Thoughts on these Occasions are not naturally conformable to Truth, nor our Inclinations to Order, They rise in us for the Good of the Body, and of the pre∣sent Life, because 'tis the Body that exites them: So they obliterate the Presence of God, and the Thoughts of our Duty out of our Mind; and tend only to recommend us to other Men, and make them consider us as worth their Affection and Esteem. Therefore this secret Pride, which kindles in us on such Occasions, is a Spiritual Vice, whose Principle is the Rebellion of the Body.

For Example; If the Persons, in whose Presence we are, are rais'd to Honorary Posts and Titles, the Lustre of their Grandeur both dazzles and dejects us. And as the Traces which their Pre∣sence imprints on our Brain are very deep, and the Motions of the Spirits rapid; they radiate, as I may say, through all the Body; they spread themselves on the Face, and give a sensible Testimo∣ny of our Reverence and Fear, and our most latent Sentiments. Next, These Traces, by the sensible Expressions of our inward Motions, work upon the Person that observe us; whom they dispose to Sentiments of Candour and Civility, by the Traces which our respectful and timorous Deportment machinally produce in his Brain: which Traces, rallying on his Face, and disarm him of that Majesty which appear'd in't, and give the rest of his Body such an Air and Posture, as at length rid us of our Concern, and re-embolden us. Thus by a mutual and frequent Reper∣cussion of these sensible Expressions, our Air and Behaviour at last settles in that fashion which the governing Person wishes.

But as all the Motions of the Animal Spirits are attended with Motions of the Soul, and the Traces of the Brain are pursu'd by Thoughts of the Mind; 'tis plain, that since we are depriv'd of the Power of expunging these Traces, and stopping these Motions, we find our selves sollicited, by the over-ruling Presence of the Person, to embrace his Opinions, and submit to his Desires, and to be wholly devoted to his Pleasure, as he indeed is dispos'd to study ours, but in a very different manner. And for this Reason worldly Conversation quickens and invigorates the Concupiscence of Pride, as dishonest Commerce, feasting and enjoying sensible Pleasures, strengthen Carnal Concu∣piscence; which is a Remark very necessary for Morality.

'Tis of great Use and Advantage, that there are Traces in the Brain, which incessantly repre∣sent

Man to himself, to make him careful of his Person: and that there are others, which serve to make and preserve Society, since Men are not made to live alone. But Man having lost the Power of erasing them when he pleas'd, and when convenient, they perpetually provoke him to Evil. As he cannot hinder their representing him to himself, he is continually sollicited to Motions of Pride and Vanity, to despise others, and center all things in himself. And as he is not Master of those Traces which importune him, to keep up Society with others, he is agitated by Motions of Complaisance, Flattery, Jealousie, and the like Inclinations, as it were in spight of him. Thus all those, which go by the Name of Spiritual Vices, derive from the Flesh; as well as Vnchastness and Intemperance.

There are not only in our Brain, Dispositions which excite in us Sensations and Motions, with reference to the Propagation of the Species, and the Preservation of Life; but it may be a greater Number that stir up in us Thoughts and Passions, with respect to Society, to our own private Ad∣vancements, and to those of our Friends. We are by Nature united to all surrounding Bodies, and by them, to all the things that any way relate to us: But we cannot be united to them, save by some Dispositions in our Brain. Having not therefore the Power of withstanding the Action of these natural Dispositions, our Union turns into Dependence, and we grow subject through our Body to all kind of Vices.

We are not pure Intelligences: all the Dispositions of our Soul produce respective Dispositions in our Body: and those in our Body mutually excite others like them in our Soul. Not that the Soul is absolutely incapable of receiving any thing, except by the Body; but because, as long as She is united to It, she cannot admit any Change in her Modifications, without making some Alte∣ration in the Body. 'Tis true, she may be enlightned, or receive new Ideas, and the Body need not have any hand in it; but that's because pure Ideas are not Modifications of the Soul, as I have prov'd in another place. I speak not here of sensible Ideas, because these include a Sensation, and every Sensation is a mode of the Souls existing.

The Second OBJECTION against the Eleventh and Twelfth Articles.

* 1.97If Original Sin descends, by reason of the Communication which is found between the Brain of the Mother, and that of her Infant, the Mother is the cause of the Sin; and the Father has no part in it. Yet St. Paul teaches us, that by Man came sin into the World: He does not so much as speak of the Woman. Therefore, &c.

ANSWER.

* 1.98David assures us, that his Mother conceiv'd him in iniquity: and the Son of Syrach says, Of the Woman came the beginning of Sin, and by her we all dy. Neither of them speak of Man. St. Paul on the contrary says, that by Man, Sin entred into the World, and speaks not of the Woman. How will these Testimonies accord, and which of the two is to be justify'd, if it be necessary to vindicate either. In discourse we never attribute to the Woman any thing peculiar to the Man, wherein she has no part: But that is often ascrib'd to the Man which is proper to the VVoman, because her Husband is her Master and Head. We see that the Evangelists, and also the Holy Virgin, call Jo∣seph the Father of Jesus, when she says to her Son, Behold thy Father and I have sought thee sorrowing. Therefore seeing we are assur'd by Holy Writ, that Woman has subjected us to Sin and Death, it is absolutely necessary to believe it; nor can it be thrown upon the Man; But though it testifies in several places that 'tis by Man that Sin enters into the World, yet there is not an equal necessity to believe it, since what is of the Woman is commonly attributed to the Man. And if we were ob∣lig'd by Faith to excuse either the Man, or the Woman, it would be more reasonable to excuse the former than the latter.

However I believe these forecited passages are to be litterally explain'd, and that we are to say both the Man and Woman are the true causes of Sin, each in their own way. The Woman, in that by her, Sin is communicated; it being by her that the Man begets the Children; and the Man, in that his Sin is the cause of Concupiscence; as his action is the cause of the fecundity of the Wo∣man, or of the communication that is between her and her Infant.

It is certain, that 'tis the Man that impregnates the Woman, and consequently is the cause of that communication, between her Body and the Child's, since that communication is the Principle of its Life. Now that Communication not only gives the Child's Body the dispositions of its Mo∣ther's, but also gives its Mind the dispositions of her Mind: Therefore we may say with St. Paul, that by one Man sin entred into the world; and nevertheless by reason of that communication we may say, that Sin came from a Woman, and by her we all dye: and that our Mother has conceiv'd us in Ini∣quity, as is said in other places of Scripture.

It may be said perhaps, that though Man had not sinn'd, yet Woman had produc'd sinful Children; for having her self sinn'd, she had lost the Power God gave her over her Body: and thus, though Man had remain'd Innocent, she had corrupted the Brain, and consequently the Mind of her Child, by reason of that communication between them.

But this surely looks not very probable. For Man whilst righteous, knowing what he does, can∣not give the Woman that wretched fecundity of conceiving sinful Children. If he remains Righte∣ous

he wills not any Children but for God, to whom Infant Sinners cannot be well pleasing; for I suppose not here a Mediator. I grant however that in that case the Marriage had not been dissolv'd, and that the Man had known his Wife. But it is certain, that the Body of the Woman belong'd to her Husband, since it was taken out of his; and was the same Flesh. Duo in carne una. It is moreover certain, that Children are as much the Fathers as the Mothers. Which being so, we can't be persuaded that the Woman would have lost the Power over her Body, if her Husband had not sinn'd as well as she. For if the Woman had been depriv'd of that Power whilst the Man re∣main'd Innocent, there had been this Disorder in the Universe, that an upright Man should have a corrupt Body, and sinful Children. Whereas it is against Order, or rather a contradiction, that a just God should punish a perfectly Innocent Man. And for this reason Eve feels no involuntary and rebellious Motions, immediately after her sin; as yet she is not asham'd of her Nakedness, nor goes to hide her self. On the contrary, she comes to her Husband, though naked as her self; her Eyes are not yet open'd; but she is still as before, the absolute Comptroller of her own Body. Order requir'd that immediately after her Sin, her Soul should be disturb'd by the rebellion of her Body, and by the shame of her own and her Husband's nakedness; for there was no reason that God should any longer suspend on her behalf the Laws of the Communication of Motions: as I have said in the seventh Article. But because her Body is her Husband's, who is as yet Innocent; she is not punish'd in this Body; but this punishment is deferr'd till the time that he should eat himself of the Fruit which she presented him: Then it was they both began to feel the re∣bellion of their Body; that they saw they were naked, and that shame oblig'd them to cover themselves with Fig-leaves. Thus we must say, that Adam was truly the cause of Original Sin, and Concupiscence,* 1.99 since it was his Sin that depriv'd both himself and his Wife of their power o∣ver their Body; by which defectiveness of power the Woman produces in the Brain of her Child such tracks as corrupt its Soul at the very instant of its Creation.

OBJECTION against the Twelfth Article.

'Tis but random divining to say the communication between the Mother's and the Infant's Brain is necessary or useful to the conformation of the foetus. For there is no such Communication be∣tween the Brain of an Hen, and that of her Chickens, which notwithstanding are perfectly and compleatly form'd.

ANSWER.

I answer that in the seventh Chapter of the Second Book, I have sufficiently demonstrated, that Communication, by the use I make of it, in explaining the Generation of Monsters; as also cer∣tain natural Marks and Fears deriv'd from the Mother. For 'tis evident, that a Man who swoons away at the sight of a Snake, because his Mother was frighted with one when she bore him in her Womb, could not be subject to that Infirmity, but because formerly such Traces had been imprint∣ed on his Brain, as these which open upon seeing a Snake, and that they were accompany'd with a like Accident. And herein I am no Diviner; for I do not venture to determine wherein that Com∣munication precisely consists. I might say it was perform'd by those Fibres which the Foetus shoots into the Matrix of the Mother, and by the Nerves wherewith that part is, very probably, fill'd; and in saying so I should no more divine, than would a Man who had never seen the Engines call'd La Samaritaine, in affirming there were Wheels and Pumps to raise the Water. Nevertheless I can't see why divining is not sometimes allowable, provided a Man sets not up for a Prophet,* 1.100 and speaks not in too positive a strain; I rather think he is permitted to speak his Thoughts, whilst he pretends not to be Infallible, nor Lords it unjustly over others by dogmatical Decisions, or by the help of Scientifick Terms. 'Tis not always divining to speak of things which are not visible, and which contradict Prejudices, If so be we speak no more than we easily conceive, and which readi∣ly makes its way into the mind of others who desire to understand Reason.

I say then, that supposing the general Laws of the Communication of Motions, such as they are there is great Probability that the particular Communication of the Mother's Brain, with that of her Infant, is necessary to form its Body, in a requisite manner; or at least is necessary to give the Brain of the Infant certain dispositions, which ought to vary according to different Times and Countries, as I have explain'd in the same Chapter.

I confess there is no Communication between the Brain of an Hen, and that of a Chicken, in the Egg, which nevertheless is perfectly well form'd. But it ought to be observ'd, that the Chicken is farther advanc'd in the Egg, when the Hen lays it, than the Foetus when it descends into the Matrix: which may well be concluded, since there goes less time to the hatching Chickens, than there goes to the bringing forth Whelps; though the Belly of the Bitch being very hot, and her Blood in perpetual motion, the Whelps should be sooner form'd than the Eggs hatch'd, were not the Chickens farther advanc'd in their Eggs, than the Whelps in their Cicatricles. Now there is great probability that the formation of the Chicken in the Egg, before it was laid, was effected by the communication I am speaking of.

I answer in the second place, that the growth of the Body of Fowls, is possibly more conformable to the general laws of Motion than that of four-footed Animals; and that so the communication of the Females Brain, with that of her young ones, is not so necessary in Fowls as in other Animals:

For the reason that makes that communication necessary, is probably the remedying the defect of these general Laws, which in some particular Cases, are insufficient to regulate the Formation and Growth of Animals.

I answer lastly, there is no such necessity, to the preservation of the Life of Birds, that they should have so many particular Dispositions in their Brain as other Animals. They have Wings to fly harm, and to secure their feed; and have no need of all that particular Mechanism which is the principle of the cunning, and docility of some domestick Creatures. Therefore the old ones need not instruct their young in many things, as they breed them, nor capacitate them to be taught ma∣ny afterwards, by giving them a disposition of Brain that's fit for Docility. Those who breed young Dogs for the Game, sometimes find those which naturally set, meerly from the instruction they receiv'd from their Damm, who often us'd to set with them in her Belly. There is a great difference almost always observable in the breed of these Creatures, some of which are much more Docil and Tractable than others of the same Species. But I do not think there ever was a Fowl that taught any thing extraordinary to her young; that a Hen, for Example, ever hatch'd a Chic∣ken who could do any thing but what they all do naturally. Birds then are not so tractable or ca∣pable of Instruction as other Animals. The Disposition of their Brain is not ordinarily capable of many Changes; nor do they act so much by Imitation, as some domestick Animals. Young Ducks, which follow an Hen, don't stay for her Example to take the Water; and the Chickens, on the contrary, never betake themselves to swim, though hatch'd and led by a Duck, that loves the Water. But there are Animals that easily and readily imitate the uncommon Motions, which they see others do. However I do not pretend, that much stress is to be laid on these last Reflecti∣ons, since they are not necessary to establish my Opinion.

Second OBJECTION against the Twelfth Article.

'Tis likewise divining to affirm, That the Mother before her Sin might have any intercourse with her Embryo; there being no necessary relation between our Thoughts and Motions happen∣ing in our Brain. And therefore that Communication between the Mother's and the Infant's Brain is useless.

ANSWER.

It is evident, That without this Communication, the Infant was incapable of having any Com∣merce with its Mother, or the Mother with her Infant, without a particular Miracle. Now be∣fore the Sin Order requir'd, That the Mother should have notice of all the Corporeal wants of her Infant, and that the Infant should resent its Obligations to its Parents. Therefore since all things were in Order before the Sin, and that God acts always agreeably to Order, the Mother and the Child had some Commerce by means of this Communication.

To understand wherein this Commerce may have consisted, it must be remembred, That the Connexion of the Tracks of the Brain, with the Ideas of the Soul, may be several ways effected, either by Nature,* 1.101 or by the Institution of Men, or some other way, as I have shewn how in the Se∣cond Book.

In beholding a Square, or the Look of a Person suffering any Pain, the Idea of a Square, or of an afflicted Person, rises in the Mind. This is common to all Nations, and the Connexion between these Ideas and these Traces, is natural. When an Englishman hears pronounc'd, or reads the Word Square, he has likewise the Idea of a Square: but the Connexion, which is between the Sound, or the Letters of that Word, and its Idea, is not natural, nor is it general with all the World. I say then, That the Mother and her Infant must naturally have had a Correspondence between them, upon all the things that could be represented to the Mind by natural Connexions: That if the Mother, for Instance, had seen a Square, the Infant would have seen one too; and that if the Infant had imagin'd any Figure, he would have likewise excited the Traces of the same Figure in the Imagination of his Mother. But they would have had no Commerce together about things of a purely Spiritual Nature, nor even about Corporeal things, whenever they conceiv'd them, with∣out the help of the Senses and Imagination. The Mother might have thought on GOD, have heard or read the Word Square, or the like; and yet the Child not have discover'd what were her Thoughts thereof, unless in Tract of Time, she should have setled a new Commerce of intellectu∣al Ideas with it, much what the same with that of Nurses, when they teach their Children to speak. I explain and prove these things.

One would think I had sufficiently prov'd them, by the Explication I gave of the Cause of Here∣ditary Aversions, and Marks which Children bring with them into the World, deriv'd from the Traces of their Mothers. Now these Traces of corporeal things are inseperable from their Ideas; which makes the Ideas to be communicated along with them, and the Children to see, feel, imagine the same things as their Mothers. They have now, whether they will or not, the Sensations of their Mothers: but were they not Sinners, they would have had the power of hindring, when they pleas'd, the Effect of that their Communication with their Mother. They might likewise have re-excited in their Brain, the Tracks which they receiv'd from their Mothers, by the same reason that we imagine what we please, when our Sensations are not too vivid and affecting: which being sup∣pos'd, it is evident, That the Mother, when considerately attending to her Infant, might have

discover'd, by a kind of Repercussion, whether or no it receiv'd the Impression she excited in it, and likewise other things that it might think upon. For as the Mother could not vibrate the Fi∣bres of her Brain, but the Fibres of the Infant's Brain must have receiv'd the Impression; so the In∣fant could not stop that Vibration, or cause any other, without giving the Mother notice by some light Impression, provided she made her self very attentive, by the power she had of stifling every other Noise than that which her Infant caus'd in her. Thus it must be acknowledg'd, That the Mother, and the Infant, would have had some intercourse before the Sin, or else we must deny all Correspondence between their Brains, or the power of the Soul over the Body, to be such as I have before maintain'd. This appears evident, though the wanton Imagination starts, and Pre∣judices band against it. 'Tis true, this Commerce at first would have reach'd but to Matters that come under the Senses and Imagination; it not being absolutely necessary, that the Child, which had only a Corporeal Dependence on the Mother, should receive from her any other Ideas than those of sensible Objects. For its Soul being strictly united to God, whilst in a State of Innocency, would have receiv'd immediately from him all the Ideas which respected not the Body: But where∣as in time we may affix the most abstract Ideas to things sensible, which have no relation to them, this Commerce between the Mother and her Child, would, very likely, have quickly extended to things of a more Spiritual Order, if they strove to correspond about such sort of Matters.

I am sensible, that what I now say will not seem reasonable to very many; and that even those who resist their Prejudices, and labour against the continual Tide of sensible Impressions, will ad∣mire at the Novelty of this Notion. But if we seriously reflect on the way that a Master takes to instruct his Disciples, and observe what different means he is oblig'd to make use of, to manifest his own Ideas of things to them; the Comparisons he makes, and the Judgments he passes about these Ideas, and the other Dispositions of his Mind, in reference to his Scholars; we shall see it will be a much harder Task for him to discover his Thoughts and inward Dispositions of Mind to them, than for a Mother to do it to her Infan••s; provided we only suppose, that the Traces of the Mother's Brain are imprinted on the Child's, which is evident from all that I have said before. For, in fine, it is manifest, that the Voice, and all exteriour Signs that we employ to express our Thoughts to others, obtain the desir'd Effect, only because they imprint on the Brain of our Hear∣ers, the same Traces, and raise the same Emotions of the Spirits, as accompany our Ideas, and our inward Disposition, on their respect.

OBJECTION against the Seventeenth and following Articles.

'Tis a rash Assertion to say, Children in Baptism are justify'd by actual Motions of their Will to∣wards God. We must not give vent to such New Opinions; which do no good, but only make a noise.

ANSWER.

I grant, that we ought not positively to affirm, That Children are justify'd by formal Acts of their Will: I believe it impossible to know any thing of it; and that we are not positively to assert any thing but what we know. But because there are but too many, who are apt to believe, That Justification of Children is only external, and by Imputation, by reason, say they, they are incapable of performing any Act of Love towards God; I think it fit to let them know, that they are brought by Prejudice to that Opinion. For the Prejudices of Men, in respect of Children, are such, as make them commonly fansie they have no Thought in their Mother's Womb, and in the beginning of their Age, and even that they are absolutely incapable of thinking. They believe that they have not so much as the Ideas of things; that it is their Masters that furnish them with Discourse; and that if they have any Inclinations, they are of another Nature from ours, and in∣competent to carry them to the Sovereign Good. The greatest part of Men can't distinctly con∣ceive, That Childrens Souls are like those of grown up Persons; And that they don't come to Strength and Perfection by degrees, like the Body; And that if they were deliver'd one moment from the Impression the Body made upon them, and mov'd by the Delectation of Grace, they would in that moment be more pure and enlighten'd than the Souls of the greatest Saints; who feel always working in their Mind and Heart the Leaven of Concupiscence.

Concupiscence is commonly look'd upon as Natural, and is not always consider'd as a consequence of Sin: and this makes Men conclude unawares, that the Stupidity of Children is a necessary conse∣quence of their Infirmity of Body, Tenderness of Age, and also incapacity of Mind. Which Conclusion or Prejudice is constantly represented to the Mind, and prepossess it in such a manner, as hinders it from examining the thing in its own Nature. Therefore those who have treated of the Effect of Baptism, in the Ages past, have omitted the explaining the Regeneration of Infants by the actual Motions of their Heart: Not that they were induc'd by strong Reasons to judge it impos∣sible; for their Works do not shew they have ever so much as examin'd it; but (as is visible) be∣cause they have supposs'd it so; and that it has hardly entred their Heads to doubt of it: or possibly, because they wa••'d giving an Explication so repugnant to Prejudices, at a Time when no such Attempts were made, to get rid of them, as now-a-days there are.

But if it be consider'd how necessary it is to give a closer Explication than that, for Instance,

which St. Austin gives in* 1.102 several places, which looks towards Imputation; though in others he speaks in a way that does † 1.103 not countenance it: If it be consider'd that Imputation is very commodi∣ous, and likely for that Reason embrac'd by some Ancient and ‖ 1.104 Orthodox Divines; and moreover absolutely necessary for those, who, without any convincing Proof, deny Spiritual Habits; whom it may be good to satisfie, if possible. Lastly, If respect be had to natural Equity, which forbids us to condemn the secret Purposes and Intentions; after all this, I say, what I offer may possibly appear improbable: But yet I can't see why it should be taken ill, that I endeavour to content even the most querelous Minds touching their Difficulties about Original Sin.

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

AS I am well satisfy'd that the most general and fruitful Principle of Errors in the Scicences, and especially in Morals, is the Impression made by lively Imaginations on the Mind of Men, who are manag'd more by Mechanism than by Reason; so I thought it lay upon me to set this truth to open view, by all the ways that might awaken them from their slumber on its account: And because Examples strike deepest, especially when the Instance is somewhat great, and uncommon; I thought that the celebrated Names of Tertullian, Seneca, and Montague, were the most proper to raise their Attention, and give them a sensible conviction of the contagi∣ous Empire of the Imagination over Reason. For if Words, all-dead, and unanimated by the look and sensible behaviour of these famous Authors, have still more Force than the Reason of a great many others; if the Turn of Expression, that gives but a faint Id••a of the sensible action, which the Imagination lively diffuses over the Face, and the rest of the Body of those who are pierc'd with what they say; is able to Agitate, Penetrate, and Convince a great many: certainly it must be granted that nothing is more dangerous, than a respectful Attention to Men of a strong and lively Imagination. For their Air and Way is a natural Language, so powerful and convincing; and they know how to Image things so passionately to the Life, that they seldom fail of raising the Senses and ••assions against Reason, and pouring, as I may say, Conviction and Certitude into their Spectators.

I easily foresaw, in alledging these great Examples, that it was impracticable to cure those who were amaz'd, and thunder-struck, with the reading of these three fam'd Authors. For a little know∣ledge of the nature of Man will suffice to teach us, that the wounds of the Brain are harder to be heal'd than those of the other parts of the Body, and that 'tis easier to close up a sore not expos'd to fresh insult from without, than to make a perfect cure of an inveterate Prejudice that justifies it self each minute by very-probable-Reasons.

'Tis extreamly difficult to close up exactly the Traces of the Brain, because expos'd to the course of the Spirits, and liable to be constantly renew'd by infinite other Traces which may be call'd ac∣cessory. These sorts of Wounds cannot ordinarily be cur'd, or made up, till the Brain receives o∣thers more deep, which opposing them cause a violent and continual Revulsion in the Spirits. For we ought not to reckon a Prejudice quite cur'd, when we fancy it is, because we are not actually affected with it: then only the cure is perfected when the Trace is quite shut up; and not when the Spirits desist from their wanted course for some particular Reason.

I knew then well enough that such as had been prostrated, and over-whelm'd by the Force and Motions of Tertullian, ravish'd and dazl'd by the loftiness and beauties of Seneca, charm'd and corrupted by the gentile, easie and natural Turns of Montague, would not change their Opinion by reading a few Pages of my Book. I judg'd on the contrary I should incur their displeasure, by try∣ing to dissolve the inchantment which so held them.

But as I hop'd these Examples would be useful to my design for the fore-mention'd Reasons: I thought I was to be more regardful of the Profit of many who were Free from Prepossession, than of the Spleen of some particulars, that I concluded would censure the liberty I had taken. I con∣sider'd there were very few so strongly prevented with esteem for these Authors, but it was hop'd might return to sound sence again. I concluded lastly, that there being hardly one, it may be, prepossess'd with all Three together, because of the diverse Characters of their Imagination; the most Opinionated might find I was in the right in a good many things▪

I know what Respect I ought to have for the Works of Tertullian, as well on account of the Sub∣jects that he treats of, as of the Approbation they have receiv'd from several Persons, who ought to be able to judge of them. And I have sufficiently manifested that Temper of Mind, by what I have said of him, and by the Quality of the Book de Pallio, of which alone I have spoke with so much freedom, though there were others, it may be, fitter for my purpose.

But after all I don't think that Time ought to change and amplifie the Ideas of things; that all Antiquities are venerable; and that illegitimate Reasons, and extravagant ways are worthy of Re∣spect, because they were a long time in the World before us. I can't think that affected Obscuri∣ties ought to be venerated like Sacred Mysteries; Sallies of Imagination to go for shining Lights of Knowledge; and African Heats, which work in a Mind naturally full of Fire, to be look'd on as Motions of a Prophetick Spirit, which can divulge nothing but sublime Truths.

I am certain, that even those who defer most to Tertullian's Works, will agree with me in all this, and that they are too equitable, to justifie the Disorders of Imagination against Reason. But it may be they are a-kin to those Judicious Persons, who, though they infinitely love Truth, yet they are not insensible to outside Manners. For I have oftentime observ'd some of them so en∣chanted with certain strong, lively, great, and pompous Expressions of Tertullian, that having prov'd to them that Author was none of the most Judicious and Reasonable, they would think it enough to convince and surprize me, only to repeat them.

I own that Tertullian has Expressions extreamly strong and bold, which produce most lively and animated Images in the Mind; and upon that score I justly bring him for an Example, of the Po∣wer which strong Imaginations have to move, and convince by Impression. Thus those who urge to me these Objections, confirm my Opinion by opposing it. Their Prepossession and Esteem for Tertullian justifies my Conduct: the frequent Citations, and the big Words, which they alledge, prove what I say. For they use not in Discourse to produce entire Reasonings; but often quote strong and lively Expressions, in order to dazzle, perturbate, and convince by the sensible Im∣pression.

There is no Reason, I think, to imagine, that I set up for a Censor of so many great Men, who cite Tertullian constantly in the Pulpit, and elsewhere; They have their Reasons for it: into which I neither do, nor ought to enquire. What I have said of that Author is methinks evident enough: Let every one deduce his Consequences according to his Knowledge, without attributing those Thoughts to me, which I never had. Those who pretend to dive into the Designs of others frame commonly such Phantasms as resemble but themselves: it being customary with Men, to taint, and infect others with the Venom of their own Passions. We are apt to measure all things by our selves, and they would do well to consider, who condemn me, whether they do not judge them∣selves un-a-wares, in doing it. But if they would have me declare my self upon the Citations of Tertullian, I grant a Man has right to make use of them for several Reasons; and likewise that they are sometimes most usefully employ'd, to make some practical Truths more sensible, which are bar∣ren and unfruitful, as long as they lie dormant in our inward Reasons, and raise in us no contrary Motions to those which the Goods of the Body excite in us.

Nevertheless I can't think those Mens Opinions very unreasonable, who believe we are not to cite Authors by Name, save when they are infallible; and that, except in things out of Reasons Prerogative, and which Authority ought to take place, no Quotations are to be made. This for∣merly was the Custom of the Fathers: St. Cyprian never cited Tertullian though he has taken a great deal from him; and if it be true what St. Jerome reports of that Holy Bishop, by hear-say, viz. That talking of Tertullian he call'd him his Master; either his Name must not have been so Au∣thoritave, nor his Expression so forcible as they are at present upon Mens minds; or else St. Cy∣prian was wonderfully rigorous in the Observance of that Custom of his Time: it being very strange such a Disciple should never have mention'd his Master in any of his Works.

St. Jerome's History is commonly urg'd in Defence of Tertullian; and I have been sometimes told, I was too blame to speak so as I did, of a Man, whom St. Cyprian call'd his Master. But I question whether St. Jerome would not have been too easie of belief, in what made for the Honour of Tertullian. To me he seems to have had somewhat too great an Inclination for him,* 1.105 since he in some measure excuses his Fall by retorting his Heresie on the Envy of the Romish Clergy, and the evil Usage he receiv'd from them. But if that Story, which is founded only on what St. Jerome heard one Person say, be true; I must confess, I know not what to make of that Silence observ'd by St. Cyprian in his Writings, with reference to Tertullian. That Silence of a Scholar may be sus∣pected to conceal some Mystery not advantagious to the Master; and if that History, as well as Ter∣tullian's own Works, did not give us sufficiently to understand, that he was not altogether worthy of the great Esteem that is paid him by very many; yet I question whether St. Cyprian's Conduct, his Silence, his Stile, his Ways, would not be sufficient to lessen it; and to make us think, That, probably, that Author's Reputation was not so well establish'd in Africa it self, which ought to have been more favourable to him than a Clime so temperate as ours.

Our own Country and Africa produce very different Wits: the Genius of the former, being natural, rational, and irreconcileable to all over-strain'd Manners, it is strange to find any among them addicted to an Author, who never studied nor follow'd Nature: and who instead of consult∣ing his Reason, suffers himself to be transported by his ungovern'd heats into altogether obscure, monstrous, and extravagant Expressions.

But this probably is owing to the mighty Force of Imagination which disarms Reason, and even changes Nature. And indeed a Man in the Fury of Passion perturbates, and even changes the na∣tural situation of our Imagination to adapt it to his own. And then there is no Motion but what seems Natural, no Expression but's Agreeable, no Nonsence but's convincing. For we stand to ex∣amine nothing seriously. Now as the Passions vindicate themselves, and irregular immaginations take delight only in their Irregularity, 'tis impossible to judge soberly of things, as long as the Brain preserves the violent Impression it has receiv'd. There is no Man in the Transport of Passion but is perpetually sollicited to justifie it; nor any disturb'd in Brain, but is pleas'd in the disturbance. For if those who fancy themselves Cocks, Wolves, Oxen, please themselves wonderfully in imita∣ting the actions that are customary with these Creatures, though quite contrary to the nature of Man: it may easily be judg'd that we shall be far from condemning the Behaviour of those, who by the Contagion of their Imagination have made us in a manner like them. For in condemning them we are conscious we condemn our selves.

There's a very particular Reason why some of the Learn'd should glory in espousing Tertullian, and expressing so extraordinary an esteem for him. Which is that affected obscurity, which serves as one of the principal Rules of his Rhetorick.

In these days all empty and senseless Expressions, and all obscure and perplex'd ways of speak∣ing, go under the name of nonsence. But there have been found such as have look'd upon Obscuri∣ty, as one of the greatest mysteries in Eloquence, with whom the Art of perswading consisted part∣ly in being unintelligible.

If publick Haranguers had always the clear and distinct Ideas of the Truths they went about to perswade, and spoke only to persons that were capable of a competent Attention to understand them, the precept of affecting obscurity in discourse, would be the most extravagant in the World. But though this precept absolutely contradicts all Reason, yet it may be said to be proportionate and fit for the Genius of most Men: not only because a Mysterious Obscurity conceals the Ignorance of the Speaker, but also for its raising such a sense in others as disposes them to yield, and be convinc'd.

Experience manifests, that most Men esteem what they do not comprehend; that they reve∣rence, like Mysteries, whatever is above their reach, and think an Orator has a wonderful Talent, when he dazles them, by the glitterings of discourse, and by a Language of Imagination, when Reason has nothing to do.

The Inclination Men have for Grandeur exceeds that which they have for Truth: wherefore Pompous Nonsence which perswades by the Impression, is better receiv'd than pure Argumentation which perswades by force of Evidence: since Evidence makes way only by Reflections, which al∣ways cost the Maker trouble: but sensible Conviction flows into the Soul, and penetrates it in a most agreeable manner.

The Good which alone is capable of satisfying our desires, is at once Infinite, and Inaccessible, and great and obscure Expressions have something of this Character. So that Obscurity raising our Desires, whilst Greatness provokes our Admiration, and Esteem; these Expressions win us by the Motions they produce in us.

When we understand, or think we understand a difficult and obscure Author, we value our selves above others that do not; and sometimes look upon them, as Ignorant. The Pains we have taken to master him, interess us in his Defence. For by venerating this Author, and procu∣ring the Veneration of others, we justifie our own studies: and as we find pleasure in justifying our selves, so we must not fail to praise and defend him with Earnestness and Zeal, and by lively and sensible ways.

These Reasons, and some others of less force are sufficient, I think, to let us know, that the ob∣scurity of Tertullian is no disadvantage to him in the Opinion of some Persons; and that likely they would have less admir'd him, if the Truths which are scatter'd over his Works were reduc'd to their more simple and clear Ideas.

Mathematical Truths and Relations are always Sum'd up in their Exponents, that is, in the most simple terms that express them; and are disengag'd from all perplexing and obscuring Dependen∣cies. For Geometricians love naked Truth; and desire not to convince by Impression, but by Light and Evidence. But what would become of most of Tertullian's Thoughts, were they reduc'd to their Exponents by the Rules of Logical Geometricians, and should we see them strip'd of all that sensible Pomp which dazles Reason. Yet if we would judge solidly of this Author's Reasonings, we ought to make the Experiment.

However I do not pretend that Tertullian ought to have written with Geometrical Plainness. Fi∣gures which express our sentiments and motions, with respect to the Truths we expose to others, are absolutely necessary; and I think that more especially in discourse of Religion and Morality we ought to Employ those Ornaments which procure all the reverence that is due to Truth, and those Motions which actuate the Soul, and incline her to vertuous Actions. But we are not to dress up and adorn a Phantasm without substance and reality; nor excite Motions when there's no occasion; and if we will vigorously impress on our Hearers Conviction, and Certitude, 'tis necessary that the Conviction should relate to something true and solid. We must neither convince, nor be convin∣ced without knowing evidently, distinctly, precisely, why we do the one, or suffer the other. We ought to know both what we say, and what we think; and only to Love Truth, and Know∣ledge, without putting out the Eyes of others, after we have made blind our selves.

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

I Hoped that what I had said upon the nature of Ideas, was sufficient to have shown that God only enlightens our understanding. But I have found by Experience, that there are Persons incapable of a competent Attention to conceive the Reasons I have given of this Principle. Abstracted reasons are incomprehensible to the greatest part of Men, but that which is sensi∣ble awakens them, and fixes and keeps open the Eye of their Mind. They cannot consider, nor, consequently, comprehend what comes not under the Senses, nor Imagination. Which thing I have often said, nor can I too often repeat.

'Tis plain that Bodies are not visible of themselves: that they cannot act upon our mind, nor re∣present themselves to it. This has no need of proof; but is discover'd by a bare perception, and is infinitely more certain, than that Bodies communicate their Motion when they meet. But it is not certain, save with those who silence their Senses, to listen to their Reason. Therefore all Mankind believe that Bodies impel each other, because the Senses tell them so, but they do not be∣lieve that Bodies are of themselves absolutely invisible, and incapable of acting on the Mind, be∣cause the Senses do not tell them this, but seem to say the contrary.

Nevertheless there are some whose reason is so steadfast and resolv'd, as to rise up to the most abstract Truths. They contemplate them with attention, and couragiously resist the Impression of their Senses and Imagination. But the Body insensibly weighing down the Mind, they relapse, these Ideas vanish, and whilst the Imagination stirs up more sensible and lively, the former are beheld as Apparitions, that only cause mistrust and fear of delusion.

We are easily apt to distrust those Persons, or things we are not familiar with, and which have not afforded us any sensible pleasure: For 'tis Pleasure that wins the Heart, and Familiarity that cures our Trouble and disquiet of Mind. Wherefore those who are not us'd to Metaphysical, and abstract Truths, are very prone to believe we purpose to seduce them, when we only labour to in∣struct them. They look with a suspicious Eye, and a kind of dread, upon Ideas which have nothing charming and sensible, and the Love they bear to their own Repose and Felicity, speedily rids them of so vexatious a Contemplation, which seems incapable of contenting them.

If the Question, before us, were not of the greatest Importance, the Reasons I have given, and some others not necessary to be produc'd, would oblige me to say no more of it; for I foresee that whatever I can say upon this subject will never enter the Heads of some People. But this Princi∣ple, That there is none but God who enlightens us; and that this illumination is effected by the ma∣nifestation of an immutable, and necessary Reason, or Wisdom; seems to me so conformable to Reli∣gion, that I think my self indispensably oblig'd to Explain it, and maintain it to the utmost of my Power. I had rather be call'd a Visionist, Enthusiast, and all the fine Names that the Imagination, (which in little Souls is always Sarcastical) uses to oppose to reasons it cannot comprehend, or de∣fend it self against; than to grant that Bodies are capable of instructing me; that I am my own Master, Reason and Light: and that to be thoroughly inform'd in all things, I need only consult my self; or other Men, who perhaps may fill my Ears with a loud noise, but certainly cannot infuse Light and Knowledge into my Mind. Here then are some farther Reasons for the Opinion I have establish'd, in the Chapter belonging to this Illustration.

No body will deny that Man is capable of knowing Truth: and the least intelligent Philosophers acknowledge that he partakes of a certain Reason, which they don't determine. And therefore they define him animal Rationis particeps. For there is no body but knows, at least confusedly, that the essential difference of Man consists in his necessary union with Universal Reason, though it be not commonly known who it is that includes this Reason, and little Care is taken to discover it. I see for Example, that two times two are four, and that a Friend is preferable to a Dog; and I am certain there is no Man in the World but sees this as well as I. Now I discover not these truths in the Mind of others, no more than others do in mine: Therefore there is necessarily an Vniversal Rea∣son which enligntens me, and all intelligent Beings. For if the Reason I consult were not the same as that which answers the Chinese, 'tis evident, I could not be assur'd, as I am,* 1.106 that the Chinese see the

same Truths as I see. Therefore the Reason we consult, when we retire into our selves, is an uni∣versal Reason: I say when we retire into our selves, for I speak not here of the Reason which is follow'd by a Man in a Passion. When a Man prefers the Life of his Coach-Horse before that of his Coach-Man, he has his Reasons for it, but they are particular Reasons which every rational Man ab∣hors. They are reasons which at Bottom are not reasonable, because not conformable to Soveraign or universal Reason, which all Mankind consults.

I am certain that the Ideas of things are immutable, and that Eternal Truths and Laws are necessa∣ry. 'Tis impossible they should not be what they are. But in my self I find nothing either immu∣table, or necessary: 'Tis possible for me not to exist: or exist otherwise than I do. There may be Minds that are not like me: and yet I am certain there can be no mind that sees other Truths, and Laws than what I see. For every mind necessarily sees that two times two are four; and that a Friend is to be prefer'd before a Dog. We must then conclude, That the Reason which is consult∣ed by all minds is an immutable and necessary Reason.

Moreover, it is evident, that this same reason is Infinite. The mind of Man clearly conceives that there either are, or may be an infinite number of intelligible Triangles, Tetragones, Pentagones, and other such like Figures. Nor does it only conceive, that the Ideas of figures are inexhaustible, and that it might still discover new ones, though it should study only these Figures to all Eternity; but it perceives an Infinity in Extension. The mind clearly perceives that the number which mul∣tiplied by it self produces 5, or any of the numbers between 4 and 9, between 9 and 16, between 16 and 25▪ &c. is a Quantity, a Relation, a Fraction, whose terms contain more figures than will reach from one Pole of the World to the other. It clearly sees it is such a Relation as none but God can comprehend, and that 'tis impossible to express it exactly, because to express it we need a Fra∣ction whose two terms are Infinite: I might bring a great many such Examples, from which we might conclude, not only that the Mind of Man is finite, but that the Reason he consults is infinite. For in brief, his Mind clearly sees infinite, in this Reason, though he does not comprehend it, since he can compare incommensurable numbers together, and know their Relations, though he cannot compare them with the unite. Or, (that we may stick only to what is sensible,) The Reason which Man consults is infinite, since it cannot be exhausted, and it has always something to answer to what∣ever we demand.

But if it be true, that the Reason whereof all Men participate be universal, and infinite: if it be true that it is immutable and necessary; it is certain, that it differs not from that of God himself. For none but the universal and infinite Being contains in himself universal and infinite Reason. All Creatures are particular Beings; wherefore Vniversal Reason is not created. No Creatures are in∣finite: Universal Reason therefore is no Creature. But the Reason we consult is not only Univer∣sal and Infinite, but also necessary and independant, and we conceive it in one sence more independant than God himself. For God cannot but act by this Reason; on which he in one sence depends; and which he must needs consult and follow. But God consults only himself: He depends on no∣thing. This Reason therefore is not distinct from him; but is coeternal and consubstantial with him. We see clearly that God cannot punish an innocent Creature: that he cannot subject minds to Bodies, and that he's oblig'd to follow Order. We see therefore the Rule, Order and Reason of God; for what other Wisdom than that of God can we see, when we fear not to affirm, that God is oblig'd to follow it?

But after all, can we conceive any Wisdom which is not the Wisdom of God? Does Solomon, who speaks so well of Wisdom, distinguish it into two sorts? Does not he teach us that which is Coeternal with God, that by which he has establish'd the Order we see in his Works, is the same which presides over all Minds; and which Legislators consult to make Just and Reasonable Laws. We need only read the Eighth Chapter of Proverbs, to be perswaded of this Truth. I know that the Holy Scripture speaks of a certain Wisdom, which it names the Wisdom of the Age, the Wisdom of Men; but then it speaks only according to appearance, or ordinary Opinion: For we learn in o∣ther places, that that Wisdom is Folly, and Abomination, not only before God, but before all Men that consult Reason.

Certainly, if Eternal Laws and Truths depended on God, and were establish'd by a free will of the Creator: in a word, if the Reason we consult were not necessary and independant: it seems evi∣dent to me, that we must bid farewel to all true Science; and that we might err in affirming that the Arithmetick and Geometrie of the Chinese is the same as ours. For indeed if it were not absolute∣ly necessary that 2 times 4 should be 8, or the three Angles of a Triangle equal to two right ones; what proof could we have that these sorts of Truth were not like those which are receiv'd, but in some Universities, and which continue but a certain Season? Do we clearly conceive that God cannot desist to will what he will'd with a will absolutely free and indifferent? or rather do we clearly con∣ceive it impossible for God to have will'd certain things, for a determinate time, or place, for some particular Persons, or certain kinds of Beings; supposing him, as some will have him, intirely free and indifferent in that Will; For my own part, I cannot conceive any Necessity in Indifferency, nor reconcile two so opposite things together.

But let it be suppos'd, that it can be clearly perceiv'd, that God by a Will intirely indifferent, has establish'd for all times, and for all places, Laws and Truths Eternal; and that at present they are immutable because of that Decree. But where do they see this Decree? Has God created any Being representative of it? Will they say it is a Modification of their Soul? They see clearly that Decree; for they have learn'd that Immutability is ascertain'd to Eternal Truths and Laws: But where is it that they see it? Certainly if they see it not in God, they see it not at all. For that

Decree can be no where but in God, nor can it be seen but where he is. The Philosophers cannot then be certain of any thing, unless they consult God, and are answer'd by him. 'Tis in vain for them to exclaim: and they must either yield or hold their Peace.

But after all, that Decree is an ungrounded Imagination. When we think on Order and Eter∣nal Laws and Truths, we do not naturally enquire the Cause; for they have none. We do not clearly see the necessity of this Decree, nor do we think immediately upon it: On the contrary we perceive evidently by a simple view, that the nature of numbers, and intelligible Ideas is immuta∣ble, necessary, and independent. We see clearly that it is absolutely necessary for 2 times 4 to be 8, and that the square of the Diagonal of a square is double to that square. If we doubt of the ab∣solute necessity of these Truths, 'tis because we turn our back upon their Light, reason upon a false Principle, and search for their nature, their Immutability; and independance out of themselves. Thus the Decree for the Immutability of these Truths is a fiction of the mind, which supposing it sees not what it sees in the Wisdom of God; and knowing him to be the cause of all things, thinks it self oblig'd to imagine a Decree to ascertain immutability to these Truths, which it cannot choose but acknowledge to be immutable. But this Supposition is false, and we ought to beware of it. 'Tis only in the Wisdom of God, that we see Eternal, immutable, and necessary Truths: nor can we see any where else the Order which God himself is oblig'd to follow, as I have said before: The mind is made for that Wisdom, and in one sence it can see nothing else. For if it can see the Crea∣tures, 'tis because He whom it sees, though in a very imperfect manner, during this life, compre∣hends them all in the immensity of his Being, in an intelligible manner, and proportionate to the mind, as I have shown in another place.

If we had not in our selves the Idea of Infinite, and if we saw not all things by the natural union of our mind with universal, and infinite Reason, it seems evident, that we could not have liberty to think on all things: For the mind cannot desire to consider things except it has some Idea of them, and it is not in its Power to think actually on any thing but what it may desire to think on. And so we shall cashier Man of his Liberty of thinking on All, if we separate his mind from him who comprehends all. Again: since we can love nothing but what we see, if God should only give us particular Ideas, it is manifest he would so determine all the Motions of our Will, that it would be necessary for us to Love only particular Beings. For in brief, if we had not the Idea of infinite, we could not love it: and if those who positively affirm they have no Idea of God, speak as they think, I scruple not to affirm they have never lov'd God, for nothing seems certainer to me, than that nothing can be the Object of our Love, which is not of our conception.

Lastly, If Order, and Eternal Laws were not immutable, by the necessity of their nature, the clearest and strongest proofs of Religion would, I question not, be destroy'd in their Principle, as well as Liberty, and the most certain Sciences. For it is evident, that the Christian Religion which proposes JESUS CHRIST as a Mediator, and Restorer, supposes the Corruption of nature, by original Sin. But what proof can we have of this Corruption? The flesh wars, you will say, against the Spirit, has brought it into subjection, and tyrannizes over it. This I grant. But this, says a Libertine, is no Disorder. This is as it pleas'd God; who ordain'd it so; who is the Master of his own decrees; and who constitutes what Order he thinks fit amongst his Creatures. How shall it be prov'd that 'tis a Disorder for Minds to be subjected to Bodies, unless we have a clear Idea of Order, and necessity, and know, that God himself is oblig'd to follow it, by a ne∣cessary Love which he bears to himself? But farther, supposing that Order depends on a free De∣cree of God, we must still have recourse to him to be inform'd of it: God must nevertheless be con∣sulted, notwithstanding the aversion which some of the Learned have, to apply to him; and this truth must still be granted, that we have need of God to be instructed. But that suppos'd free De∣cree which is the cause of Order, is a meer fiction of mind for the Reasons I have given.

If it be not a necessary Order that Man should be made for his Author, and that his will should be conformable to Order, or to the essential and necessary will of God: If it be not true that Actions are good or ill, because agreeable or repugnant to an immutable and necessary Order, and that this same order requires that the Good should be rewarded, and the Evil punish'd: Last of all, if all Men have not naturally a clear Idea of Order, even of such an one as God himself cannot will the contrary to what it prescribes, (since God cannot will Disorder) certainly I can see nothing but Universal Confusion. For what is there to be blam'd in the most infamous and unjust actions of the Heathens, to whom God has given no Laws? What will be the reason that will dare to judge them, if there be no supream reason that condemns them?

There is a Poet who says, 'tis impossible to distinguish Justice from Injustice:* 1.107 and a Philosopher that will have it an infirmity, to blush or be asham'd for infamous actions. These and the like Pa∣radoxes are often asserted in the heat of Imagination, and in the transport of the Passions. But how can we condemn these Opinions, if there be not an Universal and Necessary Order, Rule, or Reason, which is also present to those who can retire into themselves? We fear not on several occasions to judge others, and also our selves: but by what Authority should we do it, if the inward Reason that judges, when we seem to pronounce Sentence against others and our selves, be not supream, and common to all men?

But if this Reason were not present to those who retreat into their own Breast; and if the Hea∣thens too, had not naturally some union with the order we speak of; upon the score of what Sin or Disobedience could they be reckon'd culpable, and by what Justice could God punish them? This I say, upon a Prophet's teaching me that God is willing to * 1.108 make Men the Arbiters betwixt

him and his People, provided they determine by the immutable, and necessary order of Justice. Nero kill'd his Mother, it is true: But in what has he done amiss? He follow'd the natural Motion of his Hatred: God gave him no Precept to the contrary: the Laws of the Jews were not made for him. You'll say perhaps that such actions are restrain'd by the Natural Law, and that was known to him: But what proof can you have of it? For my own part I agree to it; because indeed this is an irresistible Proof for an Immutable, and Necessary Order; and for the Knowledge which e∣very Mind has of it, and that so much more clear, as it is more united to Universal Reason, and less sensible to the impression of the Senses and Passions; In a word, as it is more reasonable. But 'tis requisite that I explain as clearly as possibly I can, the sense I have about Natural, or Divine Order and Law. For the difficulty that is found to embrace my Opinion, proceeds, it may be, from the want of a distinct conception of my meaning.

'Tis certain that God comprehends in himself, after an intelligible manner, the Perfections of all the Beings he has created, or can create; and that by these intelligible Perfections, he knows the Essence of all things, as by his own Wills he knows their Existence. Which perfections are like∣wise the immediate Object of the Mind of Man, for the Reasons I have given. Therefore the in∣telligible Ideas, or the Perfections which are in God, which represent to us what is external to him, are absolutely necessary and immutable. But Truths are nothing but relations of Equality, or Inequa∣lity, that are found between these Intelligible Beings, since it is only true that 2 times 2 are 4, or that 2 times 2 are not 5, because there is a Relation of Equality between 2 times 2 and 4, and of In∣equality between 2 times 2 and 5. Therefore Truths are as immutable, and necessary as Ideas. It has ever been a truth, that 2 times 2 are 4, and 'tis impossible it should ever be false: which is vi∣sible, without any Necessity, that God, as supream Legislator, should have establish'd these Truths, so,* 1.109 as is said by M. des Cartes, in his Answer to the six Objections.

We easily comprehend then what is Truth, but Men find some difficulty to conceive what is this immutable, and necessary Order: what is this Natural, and Divine Law which God necessarily wills, and which the Righteous likewise will. For a Man's Righteousness consists in his Loving Or∣der, and in his conforming his Will in all things to it: as that which makes a Sinner in his disliking Order in some things, and willing that it should conform to his Desires. Yet methinks these things are not so mysterious, as is imagin'd; and I am perswaded all the difficulty that is found in them proceeds from the trouble the mind is at to aspire to abstract, and Metaphysical Thoughts. Here then is in part what are my Thoughts of Order.

'Tis evident that the perfections which are in God representative of created, or possible Beings, are not all Equal: That those for Example which represent Bodies, are less noble, than others that represent Spirits; and that even in those which represent only Bodies, or Spirits, there are degrees of perfection, greater and lesser ad infinitum. This is clearly, and easily conceiv'd, though it be hard to reconcile the simplicity of the Divine Essence, with that variety of Intelligible Ideas, included in his Wisdom. For 'tis evident, that if all the Ideas of God were equal, he could see no difference between his Works; since he cannot see his Creatures, save in that which is in himself, representing them: And if the Idea of a Watch which shows the Hour, with all the different Mo∣tions of the Planets, were no perfecter than that of another, which only points to the hour, or than that of a Circle and a Square, a Watch would be no perfecter than a Circle. For we can judge of the Perfection of Works, only by the Perfection of the Ideas we have of them: and if there was no more understanding, or sign of Wisdom, in a Watch, than a Circle, it would be as easie to conceive the most complicated Machines, as a Square, or a Circle.

If then it be true, that God is the Vniversal Being, who includes in Himself all Beings, in an intelligible manner, and that all these intelligible Beings which have in God a necessary Existence, are not equally perfect; 'tis evident, there will be between them an Immutable and Necessa∣ry Order, and that as there are Eternal and necessary Truths, because there are Relations of Magni∣tude between intelligible Beings, there must likewise be an immutable and necessary Order, by reason of the Relations of Perfection, that are between these Beings. 'Tis therefore an Immutable Order, that Spirits should be nobler than Bodies, as it is a necessary Truth, that 2 times 2 should be 4, or that 2 times 2 should not be 5.

But hitherto immutable Order seems rather a Speculative Truth, than a necessary Law; For if Order be consider'd but as we have just now done; we see, for Example, that it is True, that Minds are more noble than Bodies: but we do not see that this Truth is at the same time an Order, which has the force of a Law, and that there is an Obligation of preferring Minds before Bo∣dies. It must then be consider'd, that God loves himself, by a necessary Love; and therefore has a greater degree of love for that which in him represents, or includes a greater degree of perfecti∣on, than for that which includes a less. So that if we will suppose an Intelligible Mind to be a thousand times perfecter, than an Intelligible Body, the love wherewith God loves Himself, must necessarily be a thousand times greater for the former, than for the latter. For the Love of God is necessarily proportion'd to the Order which is between the intelligible Beings, that he includes. Insomuch that the Order which is purely Speculative, has the force of a Law in respect of God himself, sup∣posing, as is certain, that God loves himself Necessarily. And God cannot love Intelligible Bodies, more than Intelligible Minds, though he may love created Bodies better than created Minds, as I shall show by and by.

Now that immutable Order, which has the force of a Law in regard of God himself, has visibly the force of a Law in reference to us. For this Order we know, and our natural love comports with it, when we retire into our selves, and our Senses and Passions leave us to our Liberty; In a

word, when our Self-love does not corrupt our Natural. Being we are made for God, and that 'tis im∣possible for us to be quite separate from him, we discern in him this Order, and we are naturally invited to love it. For 'tis His Light which enlightens us, and his Love which animates us, though our Senses and Passions obscure this Light, and determine against Order, the Impression we receive to love according to it. But in spite of Concupiscence which conceals this Order, and hinders us from following it, it is still an essential, and indispensable Law to us; and not only to us, but to all created Intilligences, and even to the Damn'd. For I do not believe they are so utterly estrang'd from God, as not to have a faint Idea of Order; as not to find still some beauty in it; and even to be ready to conform to it in some particular Instances, which are not prejudicial to Self-Love.

Corruption of Heart consists in Opposition to Order. Therefore Malice or Corruption of Will, being not equal, even among the Damn'd, it is plain, they are not all equally opposite to Order, and that they do not hate it in all cases, unless in consequence of their Hatred to God. For as no one can hate Good consider'd barely as such, so no one can hate Order, but when it seems to thwart his Inclinations. But though it seem contrary to our Inclinations, it nevertheless retains the force of a Law, which Condemns, and also punishes us, by a Worm that never dies.

Now then we see what Order is, and how it has the strength of a Law, by that necessary Love which God has for himself. We conceive how this Law comes to be general for all Minds, God not excepted, and why it is necessary, and absolutely indispensible. Lastly, we conceive, or we may easily conceive in general, that it is the Principle of all Divine and Humane Laws, and that 'tis according to this Law that all Intelligences are judg'd, and all Creatures dispos'd in the re∣spective rank that belongs to them.

I acknowledge it is not easie to explain all this in particular, and I venture not to undertake it. For should I go to show the Connexion particular Laws have with the general, and account for the agreement which certain manners of acting have to Order, I should be forc'd to engage in Difficul∣ties, that it may be I could not resolve, and which would lead me out of sight of my subject.

Nevertheless if it be consider'd that God neither has, nor can have any other Law, than his own Wisdom, and the necessary Love he has for it, we shall easily judge, that all Divine Laws must de∣pend on it: And if it be observ'd that he has made the World with reference only to that Wisdom, and Love, since he acts only for Himself; we shall not doubt but all natural Laws must tend to the Preservation, and Perfection of this World, according to indispensable Order, and by their de∣pendance on necessary Love. For the Wisdom and Will of God regulates all things.

There is no need I should explain at present, this Principle more at large: what I have already said being sufficient to infer this Consequence, That in the first institution of Nature it was Impos∣sible for Minds to be subjected to Bodies. For since God cannot act without Knowledge and against his Will, he has made the World by his Wisdom, and by the motion of his Love: He has made all things by his Son, and in his Holy Spirit, as we are taught in Scripture. Now in the Wisdom of God, Minds are perfecter than Bodies, and by the necessary Love God has for himself, he prefers what is more perfect to what is less so. Therefore it is not possible that Minds should be subject to Bodies in the first institution of Nature. Otherwise it must be said, that God in creating the World, has not follow'd the Rules of his Eternal Wisdom, nor the Motions of his natural and ne∣cessary Love: which not only is inconceivable, but involves a manifest contradiction.

True it is that at present the created Mind is debas'd below a material and sensible Body, but that's because Order considered as a necessary Law, will have it so. 'Tis because God loving him∣self by a necessary Love, which is always his Inviolable Law, cannot love Spirits that are repugnant to him, nor consequently prefer them to Bodies, in which there is nothing evil, nor in the hatred of God. For God loves not Sinners in themselves. Nor would they subsist in the Universe but through JESUS CHRIST. God neither preserves them, nor loves them,* 1.110 but that they may cease to be Sinners, through the Grace of CHRIST JESUS: or that, if they remain eter∣nally Sinners, they may be eternally condemned, by immutable and necessary Order, and by the Judgment of our LORD, by vertue of whom they subsist for the Glory of the Divine Justice: for without Him they would be annihilated. This I say by the way, to clear some difficulties that might remain touching what I said elsewhere about Original Sin, or the general Corruption of Nature.

'Tis, if I mistake not, a very useful reflection to consider that the Mind has but two ways of knowing Objects. By Light and by Sensation. It sees them by Light, when it has a clear Idea of them, and when by consulting that Idea it can discover all the properties whereof they are capa∣ble. It sees things by Sensation, when it finds not in it self their clear Idea to consult it; and so cannot clearly discover their properties; but only know them by a confus'd Sensation without Light and Evidence. 'Tis by Light and a clear Idea the mind sees the Essences of things, Numbers and Extension: 'Tis by a confus'd Idea, or Sensation, that it judges of the Existence of Creatures, and knows its own.

What the Mind perceives by Light, or by a clear Idea, it perceives in a most perfect manner: moreover, it sees clearly that all the Obscurity, or Imperfection of its Knowledge proceeds from its own Weakness and Limitation, or from want of Application, and not from the Imperfection of the Idea it perceives. But what the mind perceives by Sensation is never clearly known: not for want of any Application on part of the Mind, (for we always are very applicative to what we feel,) but by the defectiveness of the Idea, which is extreamly obscure and confus'd.

Hence we may conclude that it is in God, or in an immutable nature, that we see all that we know by Light, or a clear Idea; not only because we discover by Light, only numbers Extension, and the Essences of Beings, which depend not on a free Act of God, as I have already said; but also

because we know these things in a very perfect manner, and we should even know them in an infi∣nitely perfect manner, if our thinking Capacity were infinite, since nothing is wanting to the Idea that represents them. We ought likewise to conclude, that we see in our selves whatever we know by Sensation. However, this is not, as if we could produce in our selves any new modification, or that the sensations, or modifications of our Soul could represent the Objects, on occasion whereof God excites them in us: But only that our Sensations which are not distinguished from our selves, and consequently cannot represent any thing distinct from us, may nevertheless represent the exi∣stence of Beings, or cause us to judge that they exist. For God raising Sensations in us upon the presence of Objects, by an action that has nothing sensible, we fancy we receive from the Object not only the Idea which represents its essence, but also the Sensation which makes us judge of its existence: For there is always a pure Idea, and a confused Sensation in the Knowledge we have of things as actually existing, if we except that of God, and of our own Soul. I except the Existence of God. For this we know by a pure Idea, and without Sensation, since it depends not on any cause, and is included in the Idea of a necessary Being, as the Equality of Diameters is included in the Idea of a Circle. And I except the Existence of our Soul; because we are inwardly conscious that we Think, Will, and Feel: and have no clear Idea of our Soul, as I have sufficiently explain∣ed in the seventh Chapter of the second Part of the third Book, and elsewhere.

These are some of the Reasons which we have to add to those already given, to prove that all our Light is deriv'd to us from God, and that the immediate and direct Object of our clear and evi∣dent notices is an immutable, and necessary Nature: Some Objections are usually made against this Opinion; which I shall now endeavour to solve.

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

OUR Soul thinks because it is her Nature. God in creating her gave her the faculty of think∣ing: and she needs nothing more. But if any thing else is wanting, let us stick to what Ex∣perience teaches us of our senses, which is, that they are the manifest causes of our Ideas. 'Tis an ill way of Philosophizing to argue against Experience.

ANSWER.

I cannot but admire that the Cartesian Gentlemen, who with so much reason reject and scorn the general Terms of Nature and faculty should so willingly employ them on this occasion. They cry out against a Man that shall say the Fire burns by its nature, and converts certain Bodies into Glass by a natural Faculty: And yet some of them fear not to say that the Humane Mind produces the Ideas of all things in it self by its nature, and because it has a thinking faculty. But be it spoken without offence, these words are no more significative in their Mouths, than in the Peripateticks.

I know very well that the Soul is capable of thinking. But I know likewise that extension is capa∣ble of Figures: The Soul is capable of Will as matter is of Motion. But as it is false that matter though capable of figure, and motion, has in it self a force, faculty, or nature by which it can move it self, and give it self now a round figure, and anon a square one; so though the Soul be naturally, and essentially capable of Knowledge, and Will, it is false that she has Faculties where∣by she can produce in her Ideas, or motion towards good. There is a great difference between be∣ing Moveable, and self moving. Matter is by its nature moveable, and capable of Figures; nor can it subsist without a figure. But it neither moves it self, nor shapes it self, nor has it any facul∣ty to do it. The Mind is of its nature capable of motion, and Ideas I acknowledge. But it nei∣ther moves, nor enlightens its self. But 'tis God that does all in Minds, as well as in Bodies.

Can we say that God effects the changes that happen in matter, and that he causes not those which occur in the Mind?* 1.111 Is this to give to God the things that are his, to leave these latter sort of Beings to their own management? Is he not equally Lord of all things? Is he not the Creator, Preserver, and true mover of Minds as well as Bodies? Certainly he makes all, both Substances, Accidents, Beings, and Modes of Being. For in short, he knows all: But he knows nothing but what he does. We therefore streighten him in his Knowledge, if we limit him in his Action.

But if it must be said that Creatures have such faculties as are commonly conceived, and that natural Bodies have a Nature which is the Principle of their Motion and Rest, as says Aristotle and his Follow∣ers: This indeed overthrows all my Ideas; but yet I will rather agree to it, than say the Mind enlightens it self. Men may say that the Soul has the force of moving diversly the Limbs of her Body, and of communicating to them Sense and Life: They may say, if they please, that it is she that gives heat to the Blood, motion to the Spirits! and to the rest of her Body, its Bulk, Situation and Figure: Only let them not say that the Mind gives Light and Motion to it self. If God works not all, let us allow him at least to do what is Noblest and Perfectest in the World. And if Creatures do any thing, let them move Bodies, and range and posture them as they think fit: But let them never act upon Minds.

We will say (if that will serve) that Bodies move each other, after they have been mov'd them∣selves

or rather will sit down ignorant of the different Dispositions of matter as not concerning us: But let not our Minds be ignorant whence proceeds the Light that enlightens them: Let them know from what hand they receive all that can make them more happy, or more perfect, let them acknowledge their dependence in its whole extent, and know, that whatever they actually have, God gives them every moment; for as says a great Father upon another Subject,* 1.112 'Tis a very criminal Pride to use the gifts of God, as our own innate Perfections. Above all let us take heed of imagining that the Senses instruct Reason, that the Body enlightens the Mind, that the Soul receive of the Bo∣dy what it wants it self. We had better believe our selves independent, than to believe we truly depend on Bodies. 'Tis much better to be our own Masters, than to seek for Masters a∣mong inferior Creatures. But we had much better submit our selves to Eternal Truth, which as∣sures us in the Gospel, that none else is our Instructor; than to believe the Testimony of our Senses, or of some Men, who presume to talk to us as our Teachers. Experience (whatever may be said,) does not countenance prejudices. For our Senses, no less than our Teachers after the Flesh, are only occasional causes of the Instruction which Eternal Wisdom infuses into our most inward Reason. But because this Wisdom enlightens us by an insensible Operation, we imagine it is our Eyes, or the words of those that verberate the Air against our Ears, who produce this Light, or pronounce that intelligible Voice which instructs us. And for this Reason, as I have said in another place, our LORD thought it not enough to instruct us in an intellible manner by his Divinity; unless he condescended also to inform us in a sensible way by his Humanity, thereby teaching us that he is e∣very way our Master. And because we cannot easily retire into our selves, to consult him, in Qua∣lity of eternal Truth, immutable Order, intelligible Light, he has rendred Truth sensible by his Words, Order Amiable by his Example, Light Visible by a Body which breaks the force of its Lustre; and af∣ter all we are still so ungrateful, unjust, stupid and insensible, as to respect as our Masters, and that against his express prohibition, not only other Men, but it may be the most insensible and vilest Bodies.

OBJECTION II.

Since the Soul is more perfect than Bodies, how comes it that she cannot include in her that which represents them? Why may not the Idea of extension be one of her Modifications; 'tis true there is none but God who acts in her, and modifies her? But why must she see Bodies in God if she can see them in her own Substance, she is not material, it's confess'd. But God, though a pure Spirit, sees Bodies in himself; why then may not the Soul though Spiritual see Bodies by considering herself?

ANSWER.

Do not we see that there is this difference between God and the Humane Soul, that God is Being without restriction, Universal, Infinite Being, and the Soul is a sort of particular Being?* 1.113 ['Tis a property of infinite to be at the same time one, and yet all things; compos'd as we may say of infinite per∣fections, and yet so simple that every perfection he possesses, includes all the other without any real distincti∣on; for as every Divine perfection is infinite, it constitutes the whole Divine Essence; But the Soul since a limited Being cannot have extension in her without becoming material.] God includes in himself Bo∣dies in an intelligible manner. He sees their Essences or Ideas, in his Wisdom; and their Exi∣stence in his Love, or in his Wills. This must necessarily be said, since God has made Bodies; and he knew what he made before any thing was created. But the Soul cannot see in her self what she does not contain: Nor can she see clearly what she does contain, but only has a confus'd Sensa∣tion of it. I explain my self.

The Soul does not include Intelligible extension, as one of her modes of Being: Because this ex∣tension is not any mode of Being but a true Being. We can conceive that Extension separately from any thing else, but we cannot conceive any modes of Being without perceiving the Subject, or Be∣ing whereof they are the modes. We perceive this extension without thinking on our mind, and we cannot conceive it to be any modification of our mind. This extension when circumscrib'd makes some figure, but the Limits of the mind cannot be figured. This extension having parts may be divided, at least in one sence, but we see nothing in the Soul that is divisible. This exten∣sion therefore that we see is no mode of the minds Existence, and therefore the mind cannot see it within it self. How can we see it in one species of Being all sorts of Beings? In one particular and finite Being, a Triangle in general, and infinite Triangles? For in fine, the Soul perceives a Tri∣angle, or a Circle in general, though it be a Contradiction for the Soul to have a modification in general. The Sensations of Colour which the Soul ascribes to figures make them particular, because no modification of a particular Being can be general.

Surely we may affirm what we clearly conceive. But we clearly conceive that the Extension which we see is something distinct from our selves, therefore we may affirm, that this extension is not a modification of our Being, and that 'tis something actually distinct from us. For we must observe, that the Sun for instance that we see is not that we look upon. The Sun and all we see in the ma∣terial World is not visible of it self, as I have formerly prov'd. The Soul can only see the Sun to which she is immediately united. But we have a clear Perception, and a distinct Sensation, that the Sun is something different from us. Therefore we speak against our Light, and against our Consci∣ence, when we say the Soul sees all surrounding Bodies in her own modifications.

Pleasure, Pain, Savour, Heat, Colour, all our Sensations, and Passions, are the modifications of our Soul. But though they be so, do we clearly know them? Can we compare Heat with Savour,

Odor with Colour? Can we discover what Relation there is between Red and Green? Or even be∣tween Green and Green? 'Tis not so with figures, we compare them with one another, we find out exactly their Proportions: We know precisely that the diagonal of a Square, multiplied into it self, makes a Square, that's double to the former, what Analogy is there between these in∣telligible Figures, which are most clear Ideas, with the modifications of our Soul, which are only confus'd Sensations? And why must it be pretended, that intelligible Figures cannot be perceived by the Soul, unless they be her modifications, since the Soul knows not any of her modifications by a clear Idea, but only by Conscience or internal Sense? As I have elsewhere prov'd, and shall prove again in the next Illustration. If we could not see the figures of Bodies, except in our selves, they would be on the contrary unintelligible to us: For we do not know our selves, but are darkness to our selves; and we must cast our Eye outward if we would behold our selves! And we shall never know what we are till we shall contemplate our selves in him who is our Light, and in whom all things become Light. For no where but in God material Beings are perfectly intelligible; but out of him the most Spiritual Substances are utterly invisible. The Idea of Extension, which we see in God, is most clear. But though we see not in God the Idea of our Soul, we are very conscious that we exist, and are sensible of what we actually have. But 'tis impossible to discover what we are, or any of the modifications we are capable of.

OBJECTION III.

In God there is nothing moveable: In him there is nothing Figured. If there be a Sun in the In∣telligible World, that Sun is always equal to it self; whereas the visible Sun appears bigger when near the Horizon, than when remote from it, therefore it is not the Intelligible Sun we see. The case is the same in respect of other Creatures. Therefore we see not in God the Works of God.

ANSWER.

To give an Answer to all this we need only consider, that God includes within himself, an infi∣nite intelligible Extension; For God knows Extension, in as much as he has made it, and he can know it no otherwise than in himself. Therefore as the mind may perceive part of that intelligi∣ble Extension, which God includes, it is certain it may perceive in God all Figures; for all finite In∣telligible Extension is necessarily an intelligible Figure, since Figure is nothing but the termination of Extension. Moreover that Figure of intelligible and general Extension becomes sensible, and parti∣cular, by Colour, or some other sensible Quality, which the Soul ascribes to it; for the Soul almost always bestows her own Sensation upon a lively and affecting Idea. Thus there is no necessity, that there should be in God sensible Bodies, or Figures in Intelligible Extension, in order to our seeing them in God, or that God may see them himself, though he considers nothing but himself.

So likewise if it be conceived that a Figure of intelligible Extension, made sensible by Colour, should be taken, successively, from the different Parts of that same infinite Extension; or if it be conceiv'd that a Figure of Intelligible Extension may turn upon its Center, or successively approach another, we perceive the motion of a sensible or Intelligible Figure, though there be no motion in intelligible Extension. For God sees not the motion of Bodies in his Substance, or in the Idea he has of them in himself. But only by the knowledge he has of his own Wills relating to them. He sees their Existence only by that way, because his Will only gives Being to all things. The Wills of God change nothing in his Substance: nor do they move it: Perhaps Intelligible Extension is im∣moveable all manner of ways, even intelligibly. But though we see only this intelligible Extension, immoveable or otherwise, it seems moveable to us, because of the Sensation of Golour, or the con∣fused Image remaining after the Sensation, which we successively annex to the several parts of In∣telligible Extension, that furnishes us with an Idea, when we see or imagine the motion of any Body.

From what I have said, we may understand why we see the Intelligible Sun, sometimes greater and sometimes less, though it be always the same with respect to God. For all that is requir'd to this, is but to see, one while, a greater part of Intelligible Extension, and another while a less, and to have a lively Sensation of Light, to bestow upon that part of Extension. Now as all the Parts of Intelligible Extension are all of the same nature, they may all indifferently represent any Body whatever.

It must not be imagin'd that the Intelligible World has any such relation to the material and sen∣sible, that there must be for instance an Intelligible Sun, an intelligible Horse, and an Intelligible Tree destin'd to represent to us the Sun, an Horse and a Tree; and that all those who see the Sun necessarily see this pretended intelligible Sun. All intelligible Extension may be conceived Circu∣lar, or to have an intelligible Figure of an Horse, or a Tree, and so may serve to represent the Sun, an Horse and Tree, and consequently be a Sun, a Horse and a Tree in the intelligible World, and likewise to become a sensible and visible Sun, Horse, and Tree, if the Soul has any Sensation occasion by Bodies to affix to these Ideas.

Therefore when I said that we saw different Bodies by the knowledge we have of the Perfections of God which represent them: I did not mean precisely that there were certain particular Ideas in God to represent each Body in particular; and that we saw such a particular Idea, in seeing such a particular Body. For it is certain we could not see this Body sometimes great, and sometimes small,

one while round, and another while square, if we saw it by a particular Idea, that was always the same. But I say we see all things in God, by the application God makes of intelligible Extension to our mind, in a thousand different ways, and that thus intelligible Extension includes in it all the Perfections, or rather differences, of Bodies; because of the different Sensations, the Soul bestows upon the Ideas which she receives occasionally from them. I have discours'd after another manner; but it should be concluded, that was only to make some of my proofs more forcible and sensible; and it should not be gather'd from what I have here said, that the foundation of those proofs is ruin'd. I could give the reasons of the different ways wherein I explain my self, if I thought it ne∣cessary.

I venture not to dive deeper into this Subject for fear of speaking things either too Abstract, or Uncommon: Or, if that seem better, for fear of hazarding to speak things which I neither know, nor am capable of discovering: Only let me produce those passages of Scripture which seem con∣trary to what I have now establish'd, which I shall endeavour to Explain.

OBJECTION.

St. John in his Gospel, and in the first of his Epistles, says, No man hath seen God at any time▪* 1.114 The only begotten Son who is in the bosom of the father he hath declar'd him.

ANSWER.

I answer, that 'tis not properly to see God, to see the Creatures in him. 'Tis not to see his es∣sence to see the essences of Creatures in his Substance; as it is not to see a Mirrour, to view only the Objects it represents.

Not but that we might say with St. Paul, St. Austin, St. Gregory,* 1.115 and many other Fathers of the Church, that we see God in this Life, though in a very imperfect Manner. The Words of St. Gre∣gory in his Morals upon Job, are these. A luce incorruptibili caligo nos nostrae corruptionis obscurat;* 1.116 cum{que} & videri aliquatenus potest & tamen videri lux ipsa sicuti est non potest, quam longe sit indicat. Quam si mens non cerneret, nec quia longe esse videret. Si autem perfecte jam cerneret, profecto hanc quasi per caliginem non videret. Igitur quia nec omnino cernitur, nec rursum omnino non cernitur, recte dictum est, quia a longe Deus videtur. Though St. Gregory in explaining this passage of Job, Oculi ejus à longe prospiciunt says, that in this Life we only see God a far of: This is not as if God were not most present to us; but that the Clouds of our Concupiscence conceal him from us. Caligo nos nostrae corruptionis obscurat. For in other places, he with St. Austin compares the light of God, which is God himself, to the Light of the Sun which surrounds us, and which we see not because we are blind, or shut our Eyes when dazled with its Lustre. In Sole oculos clausos tenemus.

St. Austin goes farther yet than his faithful Disciple St. Gregory. For though he confesses that we know God but in a very imperfect manner at present, yet he affirms, in several places,* 1.117 that God is better known to us, than those things we fancy we know best. He that has made all things, (says he) is nearer us, than his Creatures; For in him we have Life, and Motion and Being, Most of Created Beings are not proportionate to our Mind, because they are corporeal, and of a sort distinguish'd from it. And lower: The Inquirers into the secrets of Nature, are justly condemn'd in the Book of Wis∣dom; for if they have been able to penetrate what is most secret and unreveal'd to Men, with how much greater ease might they have discover'd the Author and Sovereign of the Vniverse; The Foundations of the Earth are hid from our Eyes: But he that laid the Foundations is present to our Minds. And for this Reason that Holy Father believes, that he that has Charity knows God better than he knows his Brother. Ecce (says he) jam potest Notiorem Deum habere quam Fratrem. Plane Notiorem, quia praesen∣tiorem: Notiorem quia interiorem: Notiorem quia certiorem. I bring not any other proofs of St. Austin's Opinion: Those who desire them, may find all sorts in that learn'd Collection Ambrosius Victor has made of them, in the second Volume of his Christian Philosophy.

But to return to the passage of St. John, No man has seen God at any time I believe the design of the Evangelist, in affirming no Man has seen God, is to state the difference between the Old and New Testament. Between JESUS CHRIST and the Patriarchs and Prophets, of whom it is written, that they have seen God. For Moses, Jacob, Isaiah, and others, saw God only with cor∣poreal Eyes, and under an unknown Form: They have not seen him in himself, Deum nemo vidit unquam; But the only Son, who is in the Bosom of the Father, has instructed us in what He has seen. Vnigenitus qui est in sinu Patris: Ipse enarravit.

OBJECTION.

St. Paul writing to Timothy, says, that God inhabits inaccessible Light which no man hath seen,* 1.118 nor can see if the Light of God cannot be approach'd to, we cannot see all things in it▪

ANSWER.

St. Paul cannot be contrary to St. John who assures us, that JESUS CHRIST is the true Light that lightens all Men who come into the World. For the mind of Man, which many of the * 1.119 Fathers call Illuminated, or Enlightned Light. Lumen Illuminatum, is Enlightned only with the Light of Eternal Wisdom, which the Fathers therefore call Illuminating Light, Lumen Illuminations. David advises to approach to God, and to be englightned by him; Accedite ad eum & illuminamini. But how can we be enlightned by it, if we cannot see the Light by which we are to be enlightned? Therefore when St. Paul says, that Light is inaccessible, he means to † 1.120 Carnal Man who cannot re∣tire into himself to contemplate it: Or if he speaks of all Men, 'tis because there are none but are disturb'd from the perfect Contemplation of Truth, because our Body incessantly troubles the at∣tension of our mind.

OBJECTION.

* 1.121God answering Moses when he desired to see him, says, Thou canst not see my Face; for there shall no man see Me and live.

ANSWER.

It is evident that the literal sence of this Passage is not contrary to what I have said hitherto. For I do not suppose it possible to see God in this life, as Moses desired to see Him. However, I Answer, that we must die to see God: For the Soul unites herself to Truth proportionably as she quits her union with the Body: Which is a Truth that cannot be sufficiently consider'd. Those who follow the Motions of their passions; those whose Imagination is defil'd, with the enjoyment of Pleasures; Those who have strengthned the Union, and Correspondence of their Mind with their Body:* 1.122 In a word, those who live cannot see God: For they cannot retire into themselves to consult the Truth. Happy therefore are they who have a pure Heart, a disengag'd Spirit, a clear Imagination, who have no dependance on the World, and hardly any on the Body. In a word, happy are the Dead, for they shall see God. Wisdom has publish'd it openly upon the Mountain; and Wisdom whispers it secretly to those who consult Her by retiring into themselves.

Those who are constantly quickning in them the Concupiscence of Pride, who are indefatigably forming a thousand Ambitious designs, who unite, and even enslave their Soul, not only to the Bo∣dy, but all surrounding Objects: In a word, those who Live not only the Life of the Body, but also that of the World, cannot see God: For WISDOM inhabits the most retired and inward Rea∣son, whilst they perpetually expand themselves abroad.

But such as constantly deaden the Activity of their Senses, who faithfully preserve the Purity of their Imagination, who couragiously resist the Motions of their Passions; In a word, that break all those Bonds whereby others continue enchain'd to the Body, and sensible grandeur; may discover in∣finite Truths, and see that Wisdom which is bid from the Eyes of all Living. They after a sort do cease to live when they retire into themselves:* 1.123 They relinquish the Body when they draw near to Truth. For the mind of Man obtains that Site and Position between God and Bodies, that it can never quit the one but it must approach the other. It cannot draw towards God but it must re∣move from Bodies, nor pursue Bodies but it must recede from God: But because we cannot give an absolute Farewell to the Body, till Death makes the separation, I confess it impossible, till then, to be perfectly united to God. We may at present, as says St. Paul, see God confusedly as in a Glass,* 1.124 but we cannot see him face to face. Non videbit me homo & vivet. Yet we may see him in part, that is, imperfectly and confusedly.

It must not be imagin'd, that life is equal in all Men living, or that it consists in an indivisible point. The Dominion of the Body over the Mind, which withstands our uniting our selves with God by the Knowledge of Truth, is susceptible of more and less. The Soul is not equally in all Men united by Sensations to the Body, which she animates, nor by Passions to those, her Inclinati∣ons carry her to: And there are some who so mortifie the Concupiscence of Pleasure, and of Pride within them, that they scarce retain any Commerce with their Body, or the World; and so are as it were Dead: St. Paul is a great instance hereof, who chastis'd his Body, and brought it to sub∣jection; who was so humbled, and destroy'd, that he thought no longer on the World, nor the World on him: For the World was dead, and crucified to him, as he was dead and crucified in the World. And on this account it was, says St. Gregory, that he was so sensible to Truth, and so prepar'd to receive those Divine Lights which are included in his Epistles; which however all glo∣rious and splendid, make no impression save on those who mortifie their Senses and Passions by his Example.* 1.125 For as he says himself, the carnal and sensible Man cannot comprehend Spiritual things:

Because Worldly address the tast of the Age, to fineness of Wit, the Nicety, the Liveliness, the Beauty of Imagination, whereby we live to the World, and the World to us, infuse into our Mind an incredible stupidity and a sad insensibility to all those Truths which cannot be perfectly conceiv'd, unless in the silence and calm of the Senses and Passions.

We must therefore desire that Death which unites us to God, or at least the image of that Death, that is, the Mysterious Sleep in which all our External Senses being lock'd up, we may hear the Voice of internal Truth, which is never audible but in the silence of the Night, when Darkness in∣volves sensible Objects, and when the World is as it were dead to us. Thus it is, says St. Gregory, that the Spouse heard the Voice of her beloved in her sleep, when she said, I sleep, but my heart wakes; Outwardly I slumber but my heart watches within: For having no life nor sense with reference to External Objects. I become extreamly sensible to the Voice of inward Truth, which accosts me, in my inmost reason. Hinc est quod sponsa in canticis canticorum sponsi vocem quasi per somnium audierat, quae dicebat, Ego dormio, & cor meum vigilat. Ac si diceret, dum exteriores sensus ab ••ujus vitae sollicitudinibus sopio, vacante mente, vivacius interna cognosco. Foris dormio, sed intus cor vigilat: quia dum exteriora quasi non sentio, interiora solerter apprehendo. Bene ergo Eliu ait quod per somnium loquitur Deus. St. Gregory's Morals upon the 33. Ch. of Job.

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

I Have often said, and think sufficiently prov'd in the third Book, of the preceding Treatise, that we have no clear Idea, but only the Conscience, or inward Sensation of our Soul; and that therefore we have a much more imperfect knowledge thereof than we have of Extension.* 1.126 Which to me seem'd so evident, that I did not think it necessary to prove it more at large. But the Authority of M. des Cartes, who possitively says, That the nature of the Mind is better known than that of any other thing, has so prepossess'd some of his Disciples, that what I have said upon that Subject, serves only to make them think me a weak Person unable to reach to, and hold fast ab∣stracted Truths, which have nothing in them to welcome and retain the attention of their Con∣templators.

I confess, I am extreamly Feeble, Sensible, and Heavy, and my Mind depends on my Body more ways than I can express. I know it: I feel it: and I continually labour to increase this knowledge I have of my self. For though we cannot help our being miserable; we ought at least to have the knowledge, and the sense of it; we ought at least, to be humbled, upon the sight of our inward Miseries, and to acknowledge the need we have of being deliver'd from this Body of Death which throws trouble and confusion into all the faculties of our Soul.

But yet the Question before us is so well proportion'd to the Mind, that I can see no need of any great Application to resolve it, and for that reason I did not insist upon it. For I think it may be affirm'd, that most Mens ignorance about the Soul, as of its distinction from the Body, of its Spiri∣tuality, Immortality, of its other properties, is sufficiently demonstrative, that we have no clear and distinct Idea of it.

It may be said that we have a clear Idea of Body, because we need but consult the Idea that re∣presents it, to discover what Modifications it is capable of. We plainly see, that it may be either round or square, in Rest or Motion. We easily conceive, that a square may be divided into two Triangles, two Parallelograms, or two Trapezia. We never are at a stand what to answer to the demand, whether this or that be implied or denied in Extension, because the Idea of Extension be∣ing clear, we may easily, and by a bare perception, discover what it includes, and what it ex∣cludes.

But it does not appear to me that we have any such Idea of our Mind, as can discover when we consult it, the Modifications it will admit. Had we never felt either Pleasure or Pain, we could not tell whether our Soul were susceptible of either. If a Man had never eaten a Melon, felt Smart, or seen Red or Blue, he might have consulted long enough this pretended Idea of his Soul, before he could distinctly discover whether it was capable or not, of such Sensations or Modifications. I say farther, that though a Man actually feel Pain, or sees Colour, he cannot discover by a simple view,

whether these Qualities belong to the Soul. He'll imagine that Pain is in the Body, which occasi∣ons him to suffer it, and that Colour is diffus'd upon the surface of Objects, though it be clearly conceiv'd, that these Objects are distinguish'd from the Soul.

To be satisfied whether or no sensible Qualities are Modes of the Mind's existence, this pretend∣ed Idea of the Soul is never consulted. On the contrary, the Cartesians themselves consult the Idea of Extension, and reason in this manner: Heat, Pain, Colour, cannot be Modifications of Extension: For this is capable but of different figures and Motions. Now there are but two kinds of Beings, Bodies and Minds. Therefore Heat, Pain and Colour, and all other sensible Qualities, are the Furniture of the Mind.

Whilst they are oblig'd to consult their Idea of Extension, to discover whether sensible Qualities are Modifications of their Soul; is it not evident they have no clear Idea of it? For otherwise would they ever bethink themselves of so indirect a Conduct, When a Philosopher would know whether Rotundity belongs to Extension, does he enquire into the Idea of the Soul, or any other besides that of Extension? Does he not see clearly in the same Idea of Extension, that Rotundity is a Modification of it? And would it not be extravagance in him to argue thus to be instructed? There are only two sorts of Beings, Minds and Bodies: Roundness is not a Modification of a Mind; therefore it is a Modification of a Body.

We discover then by a bare perception without Argumentation, and by the meer Application of the Mind to the Idea of Extension, that Roundness and every other Figure is a Modification belong∣ing to Body, and that Pleasure, Pain, Heat, and all other sensible Qualities, are not Modificati∣ons of it. There can be no Question propos'd about what does, or does not appertain to Extensi∣on, but may be easily, readily, and boldly answer'd by the sole consideration of the Idea that re∣presents it. All Men are agreed, in their notion, and beliefe upon this Point. For those who will have Matter capable of Thought, do not imagine this Faculty is to be attributed to i•• because of Extension, being perswaded that Extension consider'd, precisely as such, cannot Think.

But Men are not so well agreed about what they are to think of the Soul, and her Modifications: for some there are, who fancy, that Pain, and Heat, or at least that Clour does not belong to her. And a Man would be laught at among some Cartesians, that should affirm, the Soul grows actually Blue, Red, Yellow, and that she is dyed with all the Colours of the Rain-Bow, when she contem∣plates it. There are many who doubt, and more that don't believe, that the Soul becomes formally stinking upon the smell of carrion; and that the tast of Sugar, Pepper, and Salt, are properties belong∣ing to her. Where then is the clear Idea of the Soul that the Cartesians may consult it, and may all agree about the subject where Colours, Savours, Odours, ought to enter.

But though the Cartesians were agreed upon these difficulties, yet we were not to conclude from their agreement, that we have a clear Idea of the Soul: For if they agree at last that 'tis she which is actually Green, or Red, when a Man sees these Colours, yet this could not be concluded with∣out a long train of Reasonings; they could not see it by a simple view, nor ever discover it by con∣sulting the pretended Idea of the Soul, but rather by consulting that of the Body. They could not be certain, that sensible Qualities belong'd to the Soul, were it not because they did not belong to Extension, whereof they have a clear Idea. Nor could they ever convince of it such as, having lit∣tle thought, are incapable of complicated Perceptions, or Reasonings; or rather such as cannot dwell upon the consideration of the clear Idea of Body, and who are apt to confound all things: And so there would be always, Clowns, Women, Children, and it may be some Scholars, and Doctors who would doubt of it. But Women, and Children, Learned and Unlearned, the most Intelli∣gent and most stupid Persons, easily conceive, by their Idea of Extension, that it is susceptible of all sorts of Figures; they clearly comprehend that Extension is not capable of Pain, Savour, Odour, or any other Sensation, when they but faithfully and attentively consider the Idea only that repre∣sents it: For there is no sensible Quality included in it's representative Idea.

'Tis true, they may doubt whether Body is, or is not capable of admitting some Sensation, or sensible Quality: But then they understand by Body some other thing than Extension, and have no clear Idea of Body taken in this sense. But when des Cartes, or the Cartesians, whom I am con∣cern'd with, maintain that the Soul is better known than Body, they mean only by Body, bare Ex∣tension. Which makes me admire how they can hold, that the nature of the Soul is clearer known than that of the Body, since the Idea of Body, or Extension, is so manifest, that all the World's agreed about what it contains, and what it excludes, whilst the Idea of the Soul is so confus'd, that the Cartesians themselves daily dispute, whether the Modifications of Colour appertain to it.

We know, (say these Philosophers, with their Master des Cartes) the nature of a substance so much more distinctly, as we know more of its Attributes. Now there is nothing whereof we know so many Attri∣butes as of our Mind. Because as many as we know in other things we may put to the mind's account from its knowing them; and therefore its Nature is better known than that of any other thing.

But who is it that sees not a great deal of difference between knowing by a clear Idea and know∣ing by Conscience. When I know that 2 times 2 are 4, I know it very clearly; but I know not clearly what within me 'tis that knows it. I feel it, I confess; I know it by consciousness, or inter∣nal sense: But I have no clear Idea of it as I have of Numbers, whose Relations I can distinctly dis∣cover. I can reckon in my mind three properties, one of knowing that 2 times 2 are 4, ano∣ther of knowing that 3 times 3 are 9, a third of knowing that 4 times 4 are 16. And these Properties, if you please, shall be different from one another, and so I may count an infinite number of Properties belonging to me. But I deny that we can clearly know the nature of the things that we can reckon thus.

It may be said that we have a clear Idea of a Being, and that we know its Nature, when we can compare it with others, which we likewise have a clear Idea of, or at least when we can compare together the Modifications incident to it. We have clear Ideas of Numbers, and of the parts of Extension, because we can compare these things together. As 2 may be compar'd with 4, 4 with 16, and every number, with any other: So likewise a square may be compar'd with a Triangle, a Circle with an Ellipsis, a Square and a Triangle with every other Square and Triangle; and thus a Man may clearly discover the relations these Figures, and these Numbers have to one another. But we cannot compare our Mind with other Beings, thereby to discover clearly their Relations; nor can we compare the Modifications of the Mind together. Can we clearly discover what Relation, or Proportion there is between Pleasure and Pain, Heat and Colour? Or to keep to Modifications of the same sort; can we determine exactly the Proportion between Green and Red, Yellow and Purple, or even between Purple and Purple? We see well enough that one is darker, or brighter than the other. But we know not evidently how much, nor what it is to be Darker or Brighter. We have then no clear Idea either of the Soul, or her Modifications; and though I see or have the sense of Colours, Tasts, Smells; yet I may say as I have done, that I know them not by a clear Idea, since I cannot clearly discover their Relations.

'Tis true I can discover the exact proportions betwen sounds: That a Diopason for instance is Double, that a Fifth is as 3 to 2, and that a Fourth is as 4 to 3. But I cannot know these proporti∣ons by the sensation I have of them. If I know that an Eighth or Diopason is double, 'tis because I have learn't, by Experience, that the same string sounds an Eighth, when having stricken it whole, I strike it presently again, dividing it into two equal parts, or because I know the number of Vibra∣tions is double in equal time, or by some such way, and this because the Trepidations of the air, the Vibrations of the strings, and the string it self are things which may be compared by clear Ideas, and that we distinctly conceive what relations there can be between a string and it's parts, as likewise between the celerity of different Vibrations. But we cannot compare sounds betwixt themselves, or as they are sensible Qualities, and Modifications of the Soul; nor that way are their Proportions or Relations discoverable. And though Musicians distinguish very well the different concords, yet they do not distinguish their proportions by clear Ideas. By the ear only they judge by a clear Idea, or otherwise than by sensation. Therefore Musicians have no clear Idea of sounds, as they are sensations or Modifications of the Soul: And consequently we conceive not the Soul nor her Mo∣difications by a clear Idea, but only by Conscience or internal sense.

Moreover we know not wherein consist those dispositions of the Soul, which facilitate her to act and represent Objects to her self. Nay we cannot conceive wherein such Dispositions might possibly consist. I say farther, that we cannot be positively assur'd by Reason, whether the meer Soul separate from the Body, or consider'd without relation to it, be capable of Habits or Memory. But how can we be ignorant of these things, if the nature of the Soul be better known to us than of the Body. 'Tis easily discern'd wherein that readiness consists, wherewith the animal Spirits flow into the Nerves, which they have often us'd to glide into; at least 'tis no trouble to discover, that whilst the condui••s of the Nerves are widened, and the Fibres recumbent after a particular manner, the Spirits may easily insinuate themselves. But what is it we can conceive capable of augmenting the Soul's Facility to act or think. For my part, I own, I cannot comprehend it: And in vain should I interrogate my self what these dispositions are; For I could give my self no answer, nor light up∣on the matter, though I have a most lively sense of that easiness, with which some Thoughts arise in me. And if I had no particular Reasons to induce me to believe that I really have such Disposi∣tions, though I know them not in me; I should judge there neither was spiritual Habit, nor Me∣mory in my Soul. But in short, seeing there is doubt and scruple about it, we have an in∣fallible Symptom, that Men are not so enlightned as is pretended. For Doubt can never be recon∣cil'd to Evidence, and clear Ideas.

'Tis certain, that a Man of the greatest Understanding, cannot evidently know whether he de∣serves Hatred or Love, as speaks the Wiseman. My own consciousness of my self cannot satisfy me herein. St. Paul says indeed, his Conscience reproach'd him with nothing,* 1.127 yet for all that he does not affirm he is justified; On the contrary he asserts he is not thereby justified▪ and that he dares not judge himself, since he that judges is the Lord. But having a clear Idea of Order, if we had another as clear of the Soul, from the inward feeling of our selves we should evidently know, whether she was conformable to Order. We should know whether we were Righteous or not, and we could exactly discover all our interiour Dispositions to Good and Evil, whenever we were conscious of them. But if we could know our selves just as we are, we should not be so subject to Presumption; And there is great likelihood that St. Peter would not have said to his Master whom he was not long after to deny, Why cannot I follow thee now? I will lay down my life for thy sake. Animam meam pro te ponam. For being inwardly conscious of his own Strength and good Will, he might have seen with Evidence, whether he had Resolution and Courage to conquer Death, or ra∣ther the insults of a silly Maid, and two or three Servants.

If the nature of the Soul be more known than any other. If the Idea we have of her be as clear as that we have of the Body, I ask only how it comes to pass that there are so many who confound her with it? Is it possible to confound two clear Ideas intirely different? Let us do justice to all Mankind: Those who dissent from our Opinion are as rational as our selves, they have the same Ideas of things, and are partakers in the same Reason. Why then do they confound what we di∣stinguish? Do they use on other occasions to confound things▪ whereof they have clear Ideas? Do

they ever confound two different numbers, or take a Square for a Circle? And yet the Soul differs more from the Body, than one of these Figures from the other; For they are two substances which are in nothing alike, and are confounded notwithstanding. Which must therefore proceed from some difficulty there is to discover their difference; from its not being observable by a simple per∣ception; and from the Impossibility of concluding that one is not the other without Argument and Reasoning. It must come from hence, viz. That the Idea of Extension must be cautiously con∣sulted, and Extension discover'd to be no Mode of Existence of a Body, but the Body it self, as be∣ing represented a subsisting Thing, and as the Principle and Foundation of whatever we conceive clearly in Bodies: And that so the Modes of which Body is capable, having no Proportion of sen∣sible Qualities; the subject of these Qualities, or rather the Being of which they are Modes must needs be different from Body: For such like argumentation is requisite to prevent our confounding the Soul with the Body. But if we had a clear Idea of the Soul, as we have of Body, certainly we need not take these round-about ways to distinguish her from it. Since it would be discoverable by a simple view, and with as great ease as we see a Circle is not a Square.

I insist not longer upon proving that we know not the Soul nor her Modifications by clear Ideas. Survey our selves on what side soever we will; this sufficiently appears: And I had not added this to what I have said in the Search after Truth, if some Cartesians had not found fault with it. If this will not satisfy them, I shall expect they will make me sensible of this clear Idea, which I am not a∣ble to find in my self, do whatever I can to discover it.

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

IN order to comprehend what I have said in some Places; how that they give not the reasons of things who explain them by Logical Terms, and General Ideas we need but consider; that whatever exists is reduc'd to Being, or Modes of Being; whatever Term signifies neither of these signifies nothing, and every Term that signifies not one or other of them distinctly, and in particular, signifies nothing distinct. This to me seems most clear and evident, but what is e∣vident in it self, is not so to all the World. Words are the current Coin, wherewith Men pay themselves, and others. All Terms that are inoffensive to the Ear, have free Passport amongst them. And Truth comes so rarely into the Commerce of the World, that those who speak it, or hear it, have commonly no regard for it. The gift of Speech is the greatest of Talents; the lan∣guage of Imagination is the surest of means; and a Memory charg'd with incomprehensible Terms will always make a splendid appearance, whatever the Cartesians may say of it.

When Men shall have no addiction but to Truth, they will be Cautious of what they say, they will carefully examine their own meaning, rejecting with scorn senseless and insignificant Terms, and closely adhering to clear Ideas. But when will the time come that Men shall love Truth on∣ly? We may say, when they shall depend no longer on their Body, when they shall have no ne∣cessary relation to sensible Objects, when they shall not any more corrupt one another, but faithful∣ly consult their Master who instructs them in the recesses of their Reason. But this will never happen whilst we live on Earth.

However all Men are not equally indifferent for Truth. If there are some who speak without Reflection, and hear without distinction, and have no attention but to what affects them: there are others who industriously labour to inform themselves, and to convince others of the Truth. And to these chiefly I address my self, for at their Instance I entred on making these Re∣marks.

I say then that whatever is, whether it actually exists or not, and consequently whatever is intel∣ligible is either a Being, or a Mode of Being. By Being I mean something of an absolute Nature, or that may be conceiv'd alone, as unrelated to any other thing. By Mode of Being I understand something relative, or that cannot be conceiv'd alone. Now there are two kinds of Modes of Be∣ing. The one consists in the Relation of the Parts of any Whole, to any Part of the same whole: The other in the Relation of one thing to another which makes not any Part of the same whole. The Roundness of wax is a Mode of Being of the former sort, as consisting in the Equality of Distance,

which have all the Superficial parts to the central. The Motion or situation of the wax is a Mode of Being of the second sort: Which consists in the Relation the wax has to circumambient Bodies. I speak not of motion taken for the Moving Force; for it is plain, that that force neither is nor can be a Mode of Bodies existing, for conceive them Modified how we will, we cannot conceive them as a moving Force.

It being certain that whatever is intelligible, is either a Being, or a Mode of Being, it is as evi∣dent that every Term that signifies not one or other of these, signifies nothing; and that every Term that signifies not this or that particular Being, or Mode of Being, is obscure and confus'd; and consequently we cannot conceive either what others say to us, or we to others, if we have no distinct Ideas of Being, or of the Mode of Being, which respectively answer to the Terms they use, or we imploy our selves.

Nevertheless I grant that we may, and even sometimes must imploy those words which do not directly raise distinct Ideas. We may, because it is not always necessary to put the D••finition in∣stead of the Defin'd, and that abridg'd Expressions are to good use imploy'd though confus'd in themselves. And We must, when we are oblig'd to speak of things whereof we have no clear Idea, and which we cannot conceive, but by our inward Sensation, as when we speak of the Soul, and her Modifications Only we must take care not to use obscure and equivocal, when we have clear Terms; or any which may excite false Ideas in those we speak to. This will be better understood by an instance.

It is more perspicuous to say, that God created the World by his Will, than to say he created it by his Power. This last word is a Logical Term, which excites no distinct and particular Idea, but affords Liberty to imagine that the Power of God is something distinct from the efficacy of his Will. We speak more clearly when we say God pardons Sinners, in JESUS CHRIST; than in absolutely saying, he forgives them by his Clemency and Mercy: These Terms are Equivo∣cal; and administer occasion to think that the Clemency of God, is, it may be contrary to his Ju∣stice: That Sin may be left unpunish'd; and that the satisfaction of Our LORD is not necessary, and the like.

These Terms of a Loose and Indefinite sense are often us'd when we speak of the Divine Perfecti∣ons; which is not to be condemn'd, since Philosophical accuracy is not at all times necessary. But by a culpable dullness and negligence such abuse is made of these general Expressions and so many false con∣sequences are drawn from them, that though all Men have the same Idea of God, and that they con∣sider him as a Being infinitely Perfect; yet there was hardly any Imperfection but was attributed to him in Idolatrous times, and Mens discourses of him were commonly unseemly and unworthy: And all for want of carefully comparing the things they said of him with the Idea that represents him, or rather with Himself.

But chiefly in matter of natural Philosophy, these rambling and general Terms are abus'd, which excite no distinct Ideas either of Beings or their Modes. For example when we say that Bodies tend to their Center, that they fall by their Gravity, that they ascend by their Levity, that they move by their Nature, that they successively change their Forms, that they act by their Vertues, Qualities, Faculties, &c. we use such Terms as have no signification, and all these Propositions are absolutely false, in the sense that most Philosophers take them. There is no Center in the sense that is commonly understood. These Terms, Gravity, Form, Nature, and the like, excite no Idea ei∣ther of a Being or a mode of Being. They are empty and insignificative Terms, which Wise-Men should avoid. The Knowledge of the unwise is as talk without sense, says the Son of Sirach. These Terms are good for nothing, but to shelter the Ignorance of Pretenders to Learning,* 1.128 and to make the Ignorant and Libertines believe that God is not the True Cause of all things.

This methinks is certain, and easy to be conceiv'd: Yet most Men talk freely of all things, without caring to examine whether the Terms they employ have any clear and exact signification. And many Authors there are of huge and bulky Volumes, in which its harder than may be thought, to find any passage where they have understood what they have written. Therefore those who are great Readers, and respectful Hearers of the rambling and general Discourses of the falsly Learn'd, are in the darkest Ignorance. And I see no way they have to get free of it, but by con∣stantly making, and renewing their Resolution, of believing no Man on his word, and before they have annex'd very distinct Ideas to the most common Terms which others use. For these Terms are not clear, as is commonly imagin'd; and they seem so only from the common Use that is made of them: Because Men fancy they well understand what they say or hear, when they have said or heard the same an hundred times, though they have never examin'd it.

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

CErtainly Man before his Fall, was possess'd of all things necessary to preserve his Mind and Body in a perfect State. He needed neither Physician, nor Casuist: He consulted Inward Truth, as the Infallible Rule of his Duty; and his Senses were so faithful in their Reports, that they never deceiv'd him in the use he ought to make of encompassing Bodies, for the preservation of his own.

But since the Transgression things are much chang'd, We consult our Passions much more than Law or Truth Eternal; and our Senses are so disorder'd, that in following them we sometimes destroy our Health and Life. The Casuist and Physician are become absolutely necessary. And those who pretend to be most dexterous at Self-management upon all occasions, fall commonly into the grossest Miscarriages, which teach them a little too late, that they follow a Master that is not o∣ver-wise.

Nevertheless I think I may say that Sin has not so disorder'd all the faculties of the Soul, but that we may consult our selves, in many instances, and that it often fortunes that we lose the Life of our Soul, or Body, by applying to Physicians, unexpert in their Profession, and unacquainted with the constitution of our Body, or to Casuists unskill'd in Religion and Morality, who pierce not to the bottom of the conscience, to discover the Engagements and Dispositions of those who come to be resolv'd.

When I have said in the Conclusion of the Three first Books of The Search after Truth, has given occasion to some Persons, to imagine I pretended that in Order to preserve life and health, we ought to follow our Senses and Passions in all things; and that to be guided in our Duty it was needless to consult other Men, since Eternal Wisdom is our Teacher that speaks intelligibly to us in the recesses of our Reason. And though I never said nor thought that Physicians and Casuists were useless, some Persons expedite at judging and concluding, are persuaded it was my Opinion, be∣cause, it may be, it was theirs: And that they do not so much consider Man as he is at present, as what he was before the Fall. Here then in a great part are my Thoughts upon the question.

Man may be consider'd in two States of Body, Health and Sickness. If he be consider'd in per∣fect Health, it cannot I think be doubted but his senses are much more useful to preserve it, than the Reason and Experience of the ablest Physicians. There's no need of advising with the Doctor to know what Weight a man may bear, whether Wood and Stones are to be eaten, whether he may throw himself from a Precipice. His senses teaching him, in the readiest and most undoubted man∣ner, what ought to be done in the like ordinary occasions. Which is, one would think, sufficient, to justifie what I have said in the conclusion of the three first Books.

But that will not serve turn to justify my Thoughts, and even my Words in another place. viz. That our senses acquit themselves of their Duty so excellently well, and conduct us in that just and faithful manner to their End,* 1.129 that they seem to be injuriously charg'd with Corruptness and Irregularity. For I have always been perswaded that the Justness, Exactness and admirable Order which is found in our Sensations with reference to the preservation of Life, was no Consequence of Sin, but the first In∣stitution of Nature.

'Tis objected that at present this Order is disorder'd, and that if we were led by our senses, we should not only eat Poison, but should almost always receive in, much more Nutriment than we could digest.

But as to Poisons I don't believe our senses would ever invite us to eat them; but that if our Eyes should by chance provoke us to tast them, we should not find in them a relish that would in∣duce us to swallow them, supposing these Poisons were in their Natural State. For there is great difference between Poisons, as they are Naturally produc'd, and empoison'd Food; between crude Pepper, and Pepper'd Meats. Our senses I grant invite us to eat Poison'd Victuals. But they do not incline us to eat Poisons, or it may be, not so much as to taste them, provided these Poisons remain in the capacity wherein God has produc'd them. For our senses reach but to the Natural Order of things as constituted by their Maker.

I grant likewise that our senses at present induce us to eat certain Meats to excess and surfeiting, but that's because these Meats are not in their Natural State. We should never perhaps overcharge our selves with Wheat, if we ground it with Teeth, made for that purpose; But it is ground, and sifted, and kneaded, and baked; Sophisticated too sometimes with Milk, with Butter, and Sugar, it's eaten also with preserves, and with Ragoos of several sorts which provoke appetite. And so we need not wonder if our senses incline us to excess, when Reason and Experience lend both their assistance to impose on them.

So it is in respect of flesh, which the senses abhor when Raw and Full of Blood, when beheld af∣ter the Animal died of it self. But Men have bethought themselves to kill the Beasts, to drain out the Blood, to concoct the flesh with Fire, to Season, and Disguise it, and after this accuse their Senses of Corruption and disorder; since they Imploy their Reason in preparing other sorts of Diet than Nature supplies to them, I must own there is need of the same Reason to Moderate their Appetite, in their Eating: And if the Cooks have found out the art of making us eat Old Shooes in their High Season'd Dishes, it lies upon us to make as much use of our reason in mistrusting these Adulterated meats which are not such as God has made them: For he has given us our senses only with Relation to the Natural Order of things.

It must farther be observ'd that our Imagination, and senses are mistrustful and suspicious when we take unusual Aliments. For if a Men had never Eaten, nor seen Eaten a particular Fruit he met with, he would have some aversion and sense of fear upon the tasting it: His ••magination and senses would be naturally arrect and attentive to the relish it afforded; though never so hungry he would eat but little the first time, and if this Fruit had any dangerous quality it would be sure to create in him some dread or abhorrence. Thus his Machine would be so dispos'd as to decline it another time; and the Odium which he had to it sensibly discovering it self in his Looks, would prevent others from eating it. All this would be perform'd, or might be perform'd in him, whilst Reason had no share in it: For I speak not here of those supplies which Reason, and Experience may administer. But seeing our Friends take corrupt nutriment, we do the same: For we live by Opinion; and Example emboldens us.

We examine not the effects these Aliments may produce in us, and we fear not to eat them to excess. But our senses are not so great abettors of the Intemperance as is believ'd. 'Tis true there possibly are in the World such Fruits as that their Tasts may impose on Persons never so attentive to the Reports of their senses: But this certainly is very rare: And we ought not to conclude from these particular instances, that our senses are all corrupt, and that they commonly deceive us, in things relating to the good of the Body. It may be, these Fruits deceive our Tast, because we have altered, and corrupted our Organ by the frequent use of unnatural Nourishment. For 'tis certain that the High Season'd Dishes, we feed upon, by their too Poignant, and penetrating Particles, hurt the Fibres of the Tongue, and deprive it of it's Niceness and Sagacity. The Example of those who can find no relish except in Ragoos, proves my assertion; for if we find no savour in Corn, and in crude Flesh, 'tis because our Tongue is grown insensible to those Particles, whose motions are Moderate.

But though we suppose there are some Fruits whose savour is capable of deceiving the most curi∣ous senses, and which still retain their Natural perfection; yet we ought not to believe this pro∣ceeded from Sin: But only that from the great simplicity of Natural Laws, (by vertue of which the sense of Tast is form'd and perfected) 'twas impossible for it to have sufficient Niceness and Sa∣gacity for all sorts of Eatables. Besides, that defect of sense would not be remediless, because when the Mother had an aversion to dangerous Fruits, she would communicate it to her Children, not only when unborn, but also when come into the World. For Children only Eat what is given them by their Mothers, and they Machinally, and by the Air of their Countenance infuse into them an abhorrence for Fruits that are dangerous to be Eaten. So that God has made sufficient Provision by our senses for the preservation of our Life, and nothing can be better Order'd. For as Order requires, that the Laws of Union of our Soul and Body should be most Simple; they must be of a very General Nature: And God ought not to establish particular Laws for such instancess and emer∣gences, as most rarely happen, Reason on such occasions must Help out the Senses: For Reason may be employ'd in all things. But the senses are determin'd to some Natural Judgments, which are the most advantageous ••maginable, as I have prov'd in the first Book. Yet even these Judgments are sometimes fallacious; because 'tis impossible it should be otherwise without multiplying the most simple Laws of Union of the Body with the Soul.

If we consider Man as now he is, under a State of Sickness, we must confess his senses often de∣ceive him, even in things that relate to the preservation of his Life. For the Oeconomy of his Ma∣chine being disturb'd in Proportion to it's disturbance, irregular motions must unavoidably be ex∣cited in his Brain. Nevertheless his senses are not so corrupted, as is Ordinarily believ'd: And God has so wisely provided for the preservation of Life by the Laws of Union of the Soul and Body, that though these laws are extreamly simple, they often suffice to restore us to our Health; and it is much the surer way to follow them, than to employ our Reason, or certain Physicians that do not care∣fully study the disposition of their Patients. For as a wound closes and heals up of its self when con∣stantly cleans'd and lick'd, as is done by Animals when wounded: So Ordinary diseases are speedi∣ly dispers'd, when we let them alone, and exactly observe that course of Life, which these Diseases, as it were by instinct, and Sensation, put us upon.

Wine, for example; seems bitter to a Man in a Feaver, and likewise is prejudicial to him in that Condition: This same Man finds it agreeable to the Palate, when he is in Health, and then too it is Wholesome for him. It sometimes even happens that Wine is most useful to the Sick that relish it, provided their tast be not an effect of the Habit of drinking it, and that their desire of it pro∣ceed from the present disposition of their Body: That it cannot be doubted but that we are to con∣sult our senses in Sickness for the way we are to take to the recovery of our Health. Here follows my Opinion about what we ought to do.

'Tis requisite that the distemper'd Person should be extreamly attentive to those secret desires which sometimes arise in him on occasion of the actual disposition of his Body; but above all, take heed lest these desires should be the consequence of some preceding Habit. He must, to that intent, slacken, as I may say, the bent of Imagination, or, thinking on nothing that may determine it, observe to what he is inclin'd, and examine whether his present Inclination proceeds from the actual disposition of his Body: Which done, he ought to follow it, but with much caution and re∣serve; it being extreamly difficult to be assur'd whether these secret Inclinations are owing to the present State of Body; and 'tis sometimes good to have the advice of some Experienc'd Person upon it. But if the Sick Person thus giving a loose to his Imagination, as I have been saying, finds no∣thing offer it self to his Mind, he must remain quiet, and use abstinence, for this likely will quicken him to some desire, or spend the humours that distemper him. But if the disease increase, notwithstanding his Abstinence and Rest, 'tis then necessary to have recourse to experience and the Physician. He must give then an exact account of all to a Skillful one that knows, if possible, the Con∣stitution of his Body; He must clearly explain to Him the beginnings, and progress of his Disease, and the State of Body he was in, before he fell into it, that He may consult his Experience and Reason with reference to the Person to be cur'd by him. And then though the Physician prescribe bitter Medicines, and which are really sorts of Poison, yet they must be taken because we Experi∣mentally know that these Poisons stay not in the Body, but drive out sometimes along with them the corrupt humours which are the cause of the Disease. Here it is that Reason, or rather Expe∣rience, must over-rule the Senses; provided the abhorrence of the recommended Potion be not of a fresh date. For if this Aversion was Cotemporary with the disease, it would rather be a Symp∣tom of the Medicine's being of the same Nature with the ill humours that caus'd the distemper, and so perhaps would be augment and strengthen it.

Nevertheless I think it advisable before we venture upon strong Medicines, and which we are much averse to, to begin with those that are more gentle and natural: As by Drinking a good quantity of Water, or taking an easie Emetick, if we have lost our Appetite, and are not very hard to Vomit. Water may attenuate the too condens'd humours, and Facilitate the Circulation of the Blood into all the Parts of the Body: And Vomitives cleansing the Stomach, hinder the Nourishment we take in, from corrupting, and feeding any longer intermittent Feavers. But I ought not to insist upon these things. I am therefore of Opinion that we ought to follow the advise of the wise Physicians, who are not too hasty and expeditious, who are not too presumptuous upon the Recipe's, nor too easie to give their Nostrums and Prescriptions. For where one remedy does a Sick Man good, there are a great many that do him harm. As the suffering Persons are impatient, and as it makes not for the Honour of the Physicians, nor the profit of the Apothecary, to visit the sick without pre∣scribing to them, so they visit too seldom, and prescribe too often. When therefore a Man is Sick, he ought to request of his Physician, that he would ••azard nothing; but follow Nature, and strengthen it i•• he can: He ought to let him know that he has more Reason, and Patience, than to take it ill that he visits him often without giving him relief: For on these occasions he sometimes does a great deal, who does no mischief.

I conclude then that we must have recourse to Physicians, and refuse not to obey them, if we would preserve our Life. For though they cannot be assur'd of restoring our Health, yet sometimes they may contribute much for it, by reason of the continual Experiments, they make upon diffe∣rent Diseases. They know indeed very little, with any exactness, yet still they know much more than our selves; and provided they will give themselves the trouble of studying our con∣stitution, of carefully observing all the Symptoms of the Disease, and diligently attending to our own inward Feeling; we may hope from them all the Assistances that we may reasonably expect from Men.

What we have said of Physicians may in a manner be apply'd to Casuists, whom 'tis abso∣lutely necessary to consult on some occasions; and commonly useful. But it sometimes hap∣pens not only to be most useless, but highly dangerous, to advise with them; which I ex∣plain and prove.

'Tis commonly said that humane Reason is subject to Error; but herein there is an equivocal sence, which we are not sufficiently aware of. For it must not be imagin'd that the Reason which Man consults is corrupted, or that it ever misleads, when faithfully consulted. I have said it, and I say it again, that none but the Soveraign Reason makes us Rational: None but the Supream Truth enlightens us, nor any but God, that speaks clearly, and knows how to instruct us. We have but one True Master, even JESUS CHRIST Our LORD, Eternal WISDOM, the WORD of the Father, in whom are all the Treasures of Wisdom, and the Knowledge of God: And 'tis Blasphemy to say, this Vniversal Reason, whereof all Men participate, and by which alone they are reasonable, is subject to Error, and capable of deceiving us. 'Tis not Man's Reason but his Heart that betrays him; 'Tis not his Light, but his Darkness that hinders him from seeing. 'Tis not the Union he has with God, which seduces him, no•• in one sence, his Union with

the Body: But 'tis the dependance he has on his Body, or rather, 'tis because he will de∣ceive himself; and enjoy the Pleasure of Judging, before he has been at the Pains of Examining; 'tis because he will rest, before he arrives to the place of the Rest of Truth. I have more exactly explain'd the cause of our Errors, in many places of the preceding Book, and I here suppose what I there have said.

Which being laid down, I affirm it is needless to consult Casuists when it is certain, that Truth speaks to us; which we are sure it does when Evidence displays it self in the Answers that are made to our Enquiries, that is, to the attention of our Mind. Therefore when we retire into our own Breast, and in the silence of our Senses, and Passions, hear a Voice so clear, and intelligible, that we cannot be doubtful of the Truth of it, we must submit to it, let the World think of us what they please: We must have no regard to custom, nor listen to our secret Inclinations, nor defer too much to the resolves of those who go for the Learned part of Men. We must not give way to be misguided by the false shew of a pretended Piety; nor be humbled by the oppositions of those who know not the Soul which animates them: But we must bear patiently their proud Insults, without condemning their Intentions, or despising their Persons. We must, with simplicity of heart, rejoice in the Light of Truth, which illuminates us; and though its Answers condemn us, yet ought we to prefer them, before all the subtil Distinctions the Imagination invents, for the ju∣stification of the Passions.

Every Man, for Example, that can enter into himself, and still the confus'd noise of the Senses and Passions, clearly discovers that every motion of Love, which is given us by God, must Center upon him, and that God himself cannot dispense with the Obligation we have to Love him, in all things. 'Tis evident, that God cannot supersede acting for Himself, cannot create, or preserve our Will, to will any thing besides him, or to will any thing but what he Wills Himself. For I can∣not see how it is conceivable, that God can Will a Creature should have more Love for what is less lovely, or should Love Soveraignly, as its end, what is not Supreamly amiable.

I know well that Men who interrogate their Passions, instead of consulting Order, may easily ima∣gine that God has no other Rule of his Will than his will it self, and that if God observes Order, 'tis meerly ••ecause he will'd it, and has made this same Order by a Will absolutely Free and Indif∣ferent. There are those who think there is no Order immutable and necessary by its Nature: And and that the Order or Wisdom of God, whereby he has made all things, though the first of Crea∣tures, is yet it self a Creature, made by a Free-Will of God, and not begotten of his Substance by the necessity of his Essence. But this Opinion which shakes all the Foundations of Mora∣lity by robbing Order, and the Eternal Laws, depending on it, of their Immutability, and over∣turns the entire Edifice of the Christian Religion, by divesting JESUS CHRIST, or the WORD of God, of his Divinity, does not yet so perfectly benight the Mind, as to hide from it this Truth: That God Wills Order. Thus whether the Will of God Makes Order, or Supposes it, we clearly see when we retire into our selves, that the God we Worship cannot do what plainly appears to us to be contrary to Order. So that Order Willing that our Time, or the Duration of our Being, should be for him that preserves us, that the Motion of our Heart should continually tend towards him, who continually impresses it in us; that all the Powers of our Souls should la∣bour only for him, by vertue of whom they act.* 1.130 God cannot dispense with the Commandment he gave by Moses in the Law, and repeated by his Son in the Gospel, Thou shalt Love the Lord thy God with all thy Heart, and with all thy Soul, and with all thy Mind, and with all thy Strength.

But because Order requires that every Righteous Person should be happy, and every Sinner mi∣serable, and that every Action conformable to Order, and every Motion of Love to God should be rewarded, and every other contrary to Order, or that tends not to him, punish'd: It is evident, that whoever will be happy must constantly tend towards God; and reject with abhorrence what∣ever stops or retards him in his course, or Weakens his propension to the true good: And for this he need not consult any Casuists; For when God speaks, 'tis fit that Men should be silent: And when we are absolutely certain, that our Senses, and Passions, have no Voice in those resolves we hear, in our most Secret and inward Reason, we ought always respectfully to attend and submit to them.

Would we be resolv'd whether we may go to a Ball or a Play: Whether we may in Conscience spend a great part of the Day in Sports, and vain Conversation, whether certain Conversations, Studies, and Employs, are conformable to our Obligations. Let us retire into our selves; and hush our Senses and Passions, and then see in the Light of God, whether we can do for him any such Action: Let us interrogate him who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, to know if the Road we pursue will not lead us to the Gates of Death: And whether (God being Essentially Just, and necessarily oblig'd to punish what is not agreeable to Order, and to reward all conformity to it) we have reason to believe we are going to augment, or ensure our Felicity, by the Action we in∣tend to do.

If it be our Love to God that leads us to the Ball, let us go: If Heaven is to be gain'd by play∣ing, let us play Day and Night: If we have in prospect the Glory of God in our Employment, let us exercise it; Let us do all things with Joy, for our Recompence shall be great in Heaven. But if after having carefully examin'd our Essential Obligations, we clearly discover that neither our Being, nor the Time that measures it, is at our own disposal, and that we do an unjust thing, which it necessarily lies upon God to punish, when our only study is how to spend our time in Mirth and Pleasure, If our Lord and Master CHRIST, who has purchas'd us by his Blood, ••eproaches our In••idelity and Ingratitude in a most clear and intelligible manner, for living after

the Flesh and the World, for Leading an Effeminate, and Voluptuous Life, and following Opini∣on and Custom: Let us yield to his Voice, and not harden our Hearts, nor seek out such Spiritual, Guides, as comfort us under these Reproaches, and secure us against these Menaces, and involve in delightful Clouds that Light which strikes, and pierces our very Soul.

When the Blind leads the Blind they both fall into the Ditch, says the Evangelist. But if God excuses not the Blind who commits himself to the Conduct of a Blind Leader, will he excuse him who seeing clearly will yet willingly be guided by the Blind, because he leads him pleasantly, and entertains him by the way, according to his Inclinations? These voluntary Blind Men ought to know, that God who never deceives, frequently permits these Seducers in punishment to the cor∣rupt Affections of those that seek them. That Blindness is a penalty of Sin, though it be often the cause of it; and that it is just, that he who cared not to hear Eternal Wisdom, who spoke only for his good, should at last suffer himself to be corrupted by Men, whose deception is so much more dangerous, as their Flatteries are more pleasing.

'Tis true 'tis no easie thing to retire into our selves, to silence our Senses, and Passions, and to distinguish the Voice of God, from that of our Body: For we most commonly take sensible Proofs for evident Reasons; and on that account it is necessary to consult the Casuists. But it is not al∣ways needful: For we see our Duty on many occasions, with the clearest Evidence, and an un∣doubted certainty. And then it is even dangerous to consult them, unless it be done with the greatest Sincerity, and by a Spirit of Humility, and Obedience. For these dispositions ob∣lige God to prevent our deception, or at least to keep us from deceiving our selves in any hurtful manner.

When it is convenient to advise with a Spiritual Guide, such an one is to be chosen as under∣stands Religion, and reverences the Gospel, and is acquainted with humane Nature. We must take heed least the converse of the World has corrupted him, least Friendship should make him too Gen∣tle and Complaisant, least he should be Brib'd by his hopes or fears of us; We must choose one in a thousand, says St. Theresia, who, as she relates her self, had like to have lost her way to Heaven, by the means of an Ignorant Guide.

The World is full of Deceivers, I say of Well-Meaning Deceivers; no less than others. Those who Love us, seduce us by their Complaisance: Those who are below us, flatter us; out of Re∣spect or Fear: Those above us out of Contempt, or Negligence, overlook our necessities. Besides, all Men give us Counsel, agreeable to the Breviates we give of our own Condition, and we never fail to make the best of our Case, insensibly laying our hand upon our sore when we are asham'd of it. We often deceive our Counsellours, that we may deceive our selves: For we fancy our selves secure, whilst we follow their Directions. They do but conduct us whither we design'd to go; and yet we would fain perswade our selves, in spite of our Light, and the Secret reproofs of our Reason, that 'tis our Obedience which determines us. We seduce our selves, and God per∣mits us; but we can never deceive him who Penetrates the Bottom of our Hearts. And though we deafen our selves never so much to the Voice of Internal Truth, we are sufficiently made sensi∣ble by the inward Reproaches, we receive, from the Supream Truth, leaving us to our selves, that it enlightens our Darkness, and discovers all the Wiles and Stratagems of Self-Love.

'Tis therefore evident, that our Reason must be consulted for the Health of our Soul, as our Senses are to be advis'd with for the Health of our Body; and that when the former cannot clearly resolve us, we must apply to the Casuist, as we must have recourse to the Physician, when the lat∣ter are defective: But this is to be done with Judgment, since Ignorant Casuists may Murther our Soul, as Vnskilful Physicians may Poison our Body.

Whereas I explain not in particular the Rules which may be given about the choice and use that's to be made of Physicians and Casuists. I desire my Sentiments may be candidly inter∣preted, and that it may not be imagin'd I am against drawing all possible supplies from other Men. I know that a particular Blessing attends our submission to the Opinions of the Wise and Understanding: And I am willing to believe this general Rule, that 'tis requisite to die in the usual Forms, is surer for the common sort of Men; than any I could establish for the Preserva∣tion of Life.

But because 'tis of perpetual use to retire into our selves, to consult the Gospel; and to listen to JESUS CHRIST, whether he speaks immediately to our Mind and Heart, or by Faith declares himself to our Ears and Eyes; I thought I might be allow'd to say what I have said. For our Casuists deceive us when they go contrary to the Doctrine of our Faith and Reason. And as we give Honour to God by believing that his Works have what is necessary to their preservation, I thought I could make Men sensible their Machine was so admirably contriv'd, that it's own Nature can better furnish it with what's necessary to it's safety, than Science and even the Experience of the ablest Physicians.

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

THE Mind commonly confounds things that are very different, when they happen at the same time, and are not contrary to each other. As I have shown by many Instances in this Work; because herein chiefly consist our Errors, in Respect of what passes within us. Be∣ing we have no clear Idea of ••hat constitutes the Nature or Essence of our Mind, nor of any of the Modification it can receive, it often falls out, that to our confounding different things, they need but happen in us at the same time. For we easily confound what we know not, by a clear and distinct Ide••.

It is not only impossible clearly to conceive wherein consists the difference of our Internal Motions; it is even difficult to discover any difference between them: For to do this we must turn our Eyes inward, and retire into our selves; not to consider them with reference to Good and Evil, which we do willingly enough: But to contemplate our selves with an abstract and barren consideration, which costs us great trouble, and distraction of Thought.

We easily conceive, that the Roundness of a Body differs from its Motion; and though we know by Experience, that a Bowl on a plane cannot be press'd without being mov'd, and so Motion and Roundness are found together: Yet we use not to confound them with one another, because we conceive Motion and Figure by clear and distinct Ideas. But 'tis not so with Pleasure and Love, which we almost always confound together. Our Mind grows, as it were Moveable by Pleasure, as a Bowl by it's roundness, and because it is never void of an impression towards Good, it immedi∣ately puts it self in Motion towards the Objects which causes, or seems to cause the Pleasure. So that the Motion of Love happening in the Soul at the very time of it's feeling this Pleasure, is suf∣ficient to make her undistinguish or confound them, because she has no clear Idea of her Love and Pleasure as she has of Figure and Motion. And for this Reason some are perswaded, that Plea∣sure and Love are not different, and that I distinguish too many things in each of our Passions.

But that it may clearly appear, that Pleasure and Love are two very different things: I divide Pleasures into two sorts, the one sort precedes Reason, as are agreeable Sensations, and go com∣monly by the Name of the Pleasures of the Body. The other sort neither precede Reason, nor the senses, and are generally call'd the Pleasures of the Soul. Such is the Joy that arise in us, in pursuance of a clear knowledge of confus'd sensation we have of some Good, that either does, or shall accrue to us.

For Example, a Man in tasting a Fruit, which he does not know, finds pleasure in eating it, if it be good for Nourishment. Which is a preceding or preventing Pleasure; for since he feels it before he knows whether the Fruit be good, 'tis evident it prevents his Reason. An Huntsman when hungry expects to find, or actually finds something Eatable; which gives him an actual sense of Joy. Now this Joy is a Pleasure which follows the knowledge of his present or future good.

It is perhaps evident by this distinction of Pleasure into that which follows, and that which pre∣vents Reason; that neither of them but differs from Love. For preventing pleasure undoubtedly precedes Love, since it precedes all Knowledge, which some way or other is always suppos'd by Love. On the contrary, Joy, or the Pleasure which supposes foregoing Knowledge, presupposes likewise Love; since Joy supposes either a confus'd Sensation, or a clear Knowledge of the present or future Possession of what we Love: For if we possess'd a thing for which we have no Love, we should receive no Joy from it. Therefore Pleasure is very different from Love, since that which prevents Reason; prevent and causes Love, and that which follows Reason, necessarily supposes Love; as an Effect supposes the Cause.

Moreover, if Pleasure and Love were the same thing, there could be no Pleasure without Love, nor Love without Pleasure, otherwise a thing could be without it self. Nevertheless a Christian Loves his Enemy, and a well-educated Child his Father, though never so irrational and unkind.

The Sight of their Duty, the Fear of God, the Love of Order and Justice causes them to Love, not only without Pleasure, but even with a sort of Horrour, those Persons that are no ways de∣lightful. I own they sometimes have the Sense of Pleasure or Joy, upon the Reflection, that they perform their Duty; or upon the Hopes of being rewarded as they do deserve. But besides, that this Pleasure is very manifestly different from the Love they bear to their Father, and Enemy; though perhaps it may be the Motive of it, it sometimes is not so much as the Motive of their act∣ing; but 'tis only an abstract View of Order, or a Notion of Fear, which preserves their Love. In one sense it may be truly said, they have a Love for these Persons, even whilst they do not think of them. For Love remains in us during the Avocations of Thought, and in Sleep: But I conceive that Pleasure has no longer a Substance in the Soul, than she is aware of it. Thus Love or Charity remaining in us without Pleasure or Delectation, cannot be maintain'd to be the very same thing.

Since Pleasure and Pain are two contraries; if Pleasure were the same with Love, Pain would not differ from Hatred. But 'tis evident, that Pain is different from Hatred; because it often subsists without it. A Man, for Instance, who is wounded unawares, suffers a most real and cutting Pain, whilst he is free from Hatred. For he knows not even the Cause of his Pain, or the Object of his Hatred, or rather the Cause of his Pain not deserving his Hatred, cannot raise it. Thus he Hates not that Cause of his Pain, though his Pain moves or disposes him to Hatred. 'Tis true, he deservedly Hates Pain; but the Hatred of Pain is not Pain, but supposes it. Hatred of Pain does not Merit our Hatred, as does Pain: For the former is, on the con∣trary, very agreeable; in that we are pleased in Hating it, as we are displeased in Suf∣fering it. Pain therefore not being Hatred, the Pleasure which is contrary to Pain is not Love, which is contrary to Hatred, and consequently the Pleasure which is precedaneous to Reason, is not the same thing as Love. I prove likewise that Joy, or the Pleasure which pursues Rea∣son, is distinguish'd from Love.

Joy and Sorrow being contraries; if Joy were the same thing with Love, Sorrow and Hatred would be all one. But it is evident, that Sorrow differs from Hatred, because it sometimes has a separate Subsistence. A Man, for Example, by chance finds himself depriv'd of things that he has need of; this is enough to make him sorrowful: But it can∣not provoke him to Hatred; Either because he knows not what it was that depriv'd him of this necessary thing; or because, being unworthy of his Hatred, it could not excite it. 'Tis true, this Man Hates the Privation of the Good which he Loves; But it is manifest, that this kind of Hatred is really Love: For he Hates the Privation of Good, meer∣ly because he Loves Good; and since to fly the Privation of Good, is to tend towards Good; Is is evident, that the Motion of his Hatred is not different from that of his Love. Therefore his Hatred, if he have any, being not contrary to his Love, and Sorrow being always contrary to Joy, it is evident, that his Sorrow is not his Hatred: and consequent∣ly Joy is different from Love. Lastly, It is evident, that Sorrow proceeds from the Pre∣sence of something which we hate, or rather from the Absence of something which we Love. Therefore Sorrow supposes Hatred, or rather Love, but 'tis very different from them both.

I know St. Austin defines Pain to be an Aversion the Soul conceives from the Bodies be∣ing disposed otherwise than she would have it; and that he often confounds Delectation with Charity, Pleasure with Joy, Pain with Sorrow; Pleasure and Joy with Love; Pain and Sorrow, with Aversion or Hatred. But there's great Probability this Holy Father in all this follow'd the common way of speaking of the Vulgar, who confound most of those things which occur in them at one and the same time: Or, it may be, did not examine these things in so Nice and Philosophical a manner as he might have done. Yet I think I both may and ought to say, that to me it seems necessary exactly to distinguish these things, if we would explain our selves clearly and without Equivocation upon most of the Questions handled by him. For even Men of a quite opposite Opinion use to build upon the Authority of this great Man, be∣cause of the various Senses and Constructions his Speech will afford; which is not always Nice and accurate enough to reconcile Persons, who are perhaps more eager to dispute, than desirous to agree.

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

EVER since the Transgression of our first Parent, the Mind rambling constantly abroad, for∣gets both it self, and Him who pierces and enlightens it; and is so absurdly pliant to the Se∣ducements of its Body, and those about it, as to imagine its own Happiness and Perfection is to be found in them. He that alone is able to act in us, is at present hidden from our Eyes: His Operations are of an insensible kind; and though he produces and preserves all Beings, yet the Mind whilst the earnest Enquirer of the Cause of all things, cannot easily know him, though it meets him every moment. Some Philosophers chuse rather to imagine a Nature and particular Fa∣culties, as the Causes of those which we term Natural Effects, than to render to God all the Honour that is due to his Power. And though they have no Proof, nor even clear Idea of this pretended Nature and Faculties, as I hope to make appear, they had rather talk without knowing what they say, and reverence a purely imaginary Power, than by any Essay of Thought to discover that Invi∣sible Hand which works all in all things.

'Tis unavoidable for me to believe that one of the most deplorable Consequences of Original Sin, is our having no Taste nor Sense for God; or our Incapacity of Tasting or Meeting him without a sort of Dread and Abhorrence. We ought to see God in all things, to be sensible of his Power and Force in all Natural Effects; to admire his Wisdom in the wonderful Order of his Creatures: In a word, to Worship, to Fear, to Love Him only in all his Works. But in our present State there is a Secret Opposition between Man and GOD; Man, conscious of his being a Sinner, hides him∣self, flies the Light, and is afraid to meet his Maker; and therefore had rather imagine in sur∣rounding Bodies, a blind Power or Nature with which he can be familiar, than find in them the terrible Power of an Holy and Just GOD, who knows and Operates all in all.

I confess there are very many Persons, who from another Principle than that of the Heathen Philosophers, follow their Opinion about Nature, and Second Causes: But I hope to convince them in the Process of this Discourse, that they fall into this Sentiment, out of a Prejudice which 'tis im∣possible to shake off, without those Succours which are furnish'd by the Principles of a Philosophy, that has not always been sufficiently known. For in all likelihood, this is what has kept them from declaring for an Opinion, which I think my self oblig'd to espouse.

I have a great many Reasons which will not let me attribute to Second or Natural Causes, a Force, Power, or Efficacy, to produce any thing whatever. The chief whereof is, That this Opinion is to me utterly inconceivable. Though I use all possible Endeavours to comprehend it, I cannot find in my self the Idea to represent to me, what can be that Force or Power ascrib'd to the Creatures. And I need not fear passing a rash Judgment, in affirming that those who hold that the Creatures are endued with a Force and Power, advance what they do not clearly conceive. For, in short, if the Philosophers clearly conceive, that Second Causes have a true Force to act and produce their Like; I being a Man as well as they, and participating of the same Sovereign Reason, might in all probabili∣ty discover the Idea which represent to them that Force. But, all the efforts that my Mind can make can discover no other Force, Efficacy or Power, than in the Will of the Infinitely perfect Being.

Besides, when I think upon the different Opinions of Philosophers upon this subject, I can no longer doubt of my assertion. For if they saw clearly what this Power of Creatures was, or what was in them truly powerful, they would agree in their Opinion about it. When Men cannot accord, though they have no private Interest to hinder them, 'tis a certain Sign they have no clear Idea of what they say, and that they understand not one another, especially if they dis∣pute on subjects that are not of a Complex Nature, and of difficult discussion; like this before us. For there would be no difficulty to resolve it, if Men had a clear Idea of a created Force or Power. Here then follow some of their Opinions, that we may see how little agreement there is a∣mong them.

* 1.131There are Philosophers who maintain that second Causes act by their Matter, Figure and Motion, and these in one sense are right enough: Others by their substantial form. Many by Accidents or Qualities, some by Matter and Form; others by Form and Accidents, and others still by certain vertues, or faculties distinct from all this. There are of them who affirm that the substantial Form produces Forms; and the Accidental Form, Accidents: Others say that the Forms produce both o∣ther Forms and Accidents: Others, still that bare Accidents are not only capable of producing Ac∣cidents, but even Forms. But it must not be imagin'd that those for instance, who say, that Acci∣dents can produce Forms by vertue of the Form they are join'd to, understand it the same way. For one part of them will have Accidents to be the very Force, or Virtue of the Substantial Form: Ano∣ther that they imbibe into them the Influence of the Form, and only act so by vertue of it: A Third lastly will have them to be but Instrumental Causes. But neither are these latter sort alto∣gether agreed about what is meant by Instrumental Cause, and the vertue they receive from the Principal. Nor can the Philosophers compromise about the Action whereby second Causes pro∣duce their Effects. For some of them pretend that Causality ought not to be produc'd, since it is this which produces. Others will that they truly act by their own Action. But they are involv'd in so many Labyrinths in explaining precisely wherein this Action consists, and there are so many diffe∣rent Opinions about it, that I cannot find in my Heart to recite them.

Such is the strange variety of Opinions, though I have not produc'd those of the Ancient Philoso∣phers, or that were born in very remote Countries. But we have sufficient Reason to conclude, that they are no more agreed upon the subject of second Causes, than those before alledg'd. Avicenna, for instance, is of Opinion that Corporeal Substances cannot produce any thing but Acci∣dents:* 1.132 This, according to Ruvio, is his Hypothesis. He supposes that God produces immediately a most perfect Spiritual Substance: That this produces another less perfect, and this a third, and so on to the last, which produces all Corporeal Substances; and Corporeal Substances, Accidents. But Avi∣cembrom not able to comprehend how Corporeal Substances; which cannot penetrate each other, should cause alterations in them,* 1.133 supposes that there are Spirits which are capable of acting on Bo∣dies, because they alone can penetrate them. For these Gentlemen not admitting the Vacuum, nor the Atoms of Democritus, nor having sufficient knowledge of the subtil matter of M. des Cartes, could not with the Gassendists and Cartesians, think of Bodies which were little enough to insinuate into the pores of those that are hardest, and most solid.

Methinks this diversity of Opinions justifies this thought of ours, that Men often talk of things which they understand not; and that the Power of Creatures, being a Fiction of Mind, of which we have naturally no Idea, every Man makes it, and imagines it what he pleases.

'Tis true, this Power has been acknowledg'd for a Real and True, by most Men in all Ages; but it has never yet been prov'd, I say not demonstratively, but in any wise so, as to make an impression upon an Attentive, thinking Man. For the confus'd Proofs which are built only upon the falla∣cious Testimony of the Senses, and Passions, are to be rejected by those who know how to exercise their Reason.

* 1.134Aristotle, speaking of what they call Nature, says it is Ridiculous to go about to prove that Na∣tural Bodies have an inward Principle of Motion and Rest; because says he, it is a thing that's Self-Evident. He likewise does not doubt but a Bowl which strikes another, has the force of putting it in Motion. This is witnessed by his Eyes, and that's enough for him, who seldom follows any other Testimony than of the Senses, (very rarely that of his Reason) and is very indifferent whe∣ther it be intelligible or not.

Those who impugn the Opinion of some Divines, who have written against Second Causes, say, like Aristotle, that the Senses convince us of their Efficacy: And this is their first and principal Proof. 'Tis evident, say they, that the Fire burns, that the Sun shines, that Water cools, and he must be out of his Senses who can doubt of it.* 1.135 The Authors of the other Opinion, says the great Averroes, are out of their Wits. We must, say almost all the Peripateticks, use sensible Proofs for their Con∣viction, who deny this Efficacy, and so oblige them to confess we are capable of acting on them, and wounding them. 'Tis a judgment which * 1.136 Aristotle has already pronounc'd against them, and it ought to be put in Execution.

But this pretended Demonstration cannot but create Pity: For it gives us to know the Weakness of an Humane Mind: And that the Philosophers themselves are infinitely more sensible than Rea∣sonable. It evinces that those who glory in being the Inquirers of Truth, know not even whom they are to consult to hear any News of it: Whether Soveraign Reason, which never deceives, but always speaks things as they are in themselves, or the Body which speaks only out of Interest, and with reference to the preservation and convenience of Life. For in fine what prejudices will not be justi∣fied if we set up our Senses for Judges, to which most of them owe their Birth? As I have shown in The Search after Truth.

When I see a Bowl shock another, my Eyes tell me, or seem to tell me, that it is the True Cause of the motion it impresses; for the true cause that moves Bodies, is not visible to my Eyes. But if I interrogate my Reason, I evidently see, that Bodies having no Power to move themselves, and their moving force being nothing but the Will of God, which preserves them successively in different places, they cannot communicate a Power which they have not, nor could communicate, if they had it. For 'tis plain that there must be Wisdom, and that Infinite, to regulate the communica∣tion

of motions, with that exactness, Proportion, and Uniformity which we see. A Body can∣not know that infinite multitude of impuls'd Bodies round about it; and though we should suppose it to have knowledge, yet it would not have enough so proportionably to regulate and distribute, at the instant of protrusion, the moving force it self is carried with.

When I open my Eyes, the Sun appears to me splendidly glorious in Light: And it seems not only to be visible it self, but to make all the World so too. Methinks 'tis he that arrays the Earth with flowers, and enriches it with Fruits. That gives Life to Animals and striking by His Heat into the very Womb of the Earth, impregnates Her with Stones Marbles and Metalls. But in con∣sulting my Reason I see nothing of all this: And if I faithfully consult it, I plainly discover the seducement of my Senses, and find that God Works all in all. For knowing that all the changes which accrue to Bodies, have no other principle than the different Communications of Motions, which occur in visible and invisible Bodies: I see that God does all; since 'tis his Will that causes, and his Wisdom that regulates all these Communications.

I suppose that Local Motion is the principle of Generations, Corruptions, Alterations, and U∣niversally of all the changes incident to the Corporeal World; which is an Opinion sufficiently now receiv'd among Men of Letters. But let their Opinion about it be what it will, that matters not much; since it seems much easier to conceive, that a Body drives another when it strikes it, than to comprehend how Fire can produce Heat and Light, and educe from the power of matter a substance that was not in it before. And if it be necessary to acknowledge that God is the True Cause of the different Communications of Motion, by a much stronger reason we should conclude, that none but He can Create, and Annihilate real Qualities, and substantial Forms. I say Create and Annihi∣late: For it seems to me at least as difficult to educe from matter a substance that was not in it, or to reduce it into it again, whilst yet there nothing remains of it, as to create it, or Annihilate it. But I stick not to the Terms: And I make use of those, because there are no other that I know of, which express without Obscurity and Ambiguity, the changes suppos'd by the Philosophers to ar∣rive every moment by the force of second Causes.

I had some scruple to set down here, the other Arguments which are commonly urg'd, for the Force and Efficacy of natural Causes; For they appear so weak and trifling to those who withstand Prejudices, and prefer their Reason before their Senses, that I can scarce believe, methinks, that Reasonable Men could be perswaded by them. However I produce, and answer them, since there are many Philosophers who urge them.

ARGUMENT I.

If second Causes did not Operate, say * 1.137 Suarez, † 1.138 Fonseca, and some others, Animate things could not be distinguish'd from Inanimate, since neither one, nor the other, would have an inward principle of their Actions.

ANSWER.

I answer, that Men would have the same sensible proofs that have convinc'd them of the distincti∣on they make between things Animate and Inanimate. They would still see Animals do the same Actions, as eat, grow, cry, run, bound, &c. and would discern nothing like this in Stones:* 1.139 And this one thing makes the vulgar Philosophers believe, that Beasts live, and that Stones do not. For we are not to fancy that they know by a clear and distinct view of Mind, what is the Life of a Dog. 'Tis their Senses which regulate their Decisions upon this Question.

If it were necessary, I could prove here that the principle of the Life of a Dog differs not from the principle of the Motion of a Watch. For the Life of Bodies whatever they be, can consist but in the Motion of their Parts: And we may easily judge that the same subtil matter, which causes the Fermentation of the Blood, and Animal Spirits, in a Dog, and which is the principle of his Life, is no perfecter than that which gives Motion to the Spring of a Watch, or which causes the Gravitation in the Weights of a Clock, which is the principle of their Life, or to speak as others do, of their Motion.

It behoves the Peripateticks to give those whom they stile Cartesians a clear Idea of what they call the Life of Beasts, Corporeal Soul, Body which Perceives, and Desires, Sees, Feels, Wills, and then we shall clearly resolve their Difficulties, if after that they shall persist in raising them.

ARGUMENT II.

It were impossible to discover the Differences, or Powers of the Elements: So that Fire might refrigerate as Water, and nothing would be of a settled and fix'd Nature.

ANSWER.

I answer, That whilst Nature remains as it is, that is to say, whilst the Laws of the Communica∣tion of Motions remain constantly the same; it is a Contradiction, that Fire should not burn, or separate the Parts of certain Bodies. Fire cannot refrigerate like Water, unless it becomes Wa∣ter; for Fire being only Fewel,* 1.140 whose Parts have been violently agitated by an invisible surround∣ing

Matter, as is easie to demonstrate; it is impossible its Parts should not Communicate some of their Motion to approaching Bodies: Now as these Laws are constant, the Nature of Fire, its Vir∣tues and Qualities are unchangeable. But this Nature, and these Vertues, are only Consequences of the General and Efficacious Will of GOD, who does all in all things. Therefore the Study of Na∣ture, is in all respects false and vain, when we look for other true Causes than the Wills of the ALMIGHTY.

I confess that we are not to have recourse to God, or the Universal Cause, when we require the Reason of particular Effects. For we should be ridiculous to assert, for Instance, That GOD dries the Ways, or Freezes the Water in the River. We must say, The Air dries the Earth, be∣cause it moves, and bears off the Water with it that dilutes it: Or that the Air, or the subtil Matter Freezes the River in Winter, because at that time it communicates not sufficient Motion to the Parts that constitute the Water. In a Word, we must, if we can, assign the Natural and particu∣lar Cause of the Effects propos'd, to Examination. But because the Action of these Causes consists in the moving Force, which actuates them, which moving Force is the Will of GOD, (which create them), we ought not to say they have in themselves a Force or Power to produce any Effects. And when in Reasoning we are at last arriv'd to a general Effect, of which we seek the Cause; 'tis no good Philosophy to imagine any other than the general. And to feign a certain Nature, a first Moveable, and universal Soul, or some such Chimera, whereof we have no clear and distinct Idea, would be to argue like an Heathen Philosopher. For Example, when we are ask'd, whence it comes that some Bodies are in motion, or that the agitated Air communicates its Motion to the Water, or rather whence proceeds the mutual Protrusion of Bodies: Motion and its Communication be∣ing a general Effect, on which all others depend; we cannot answer, I do'nt say like Christians, but Philosophers, without ascending to God who is the Universal Cause: Since 'tis His Will that is the moving Force of Bodies, and that regulates the Communication of their Motions. Had he will'd there should be no new Production in the World, he would not have put its Parts in motion: And if hereafter He shall will the Incorruptibility of some of the Beings he had made, he shall cease to will the Communication of Motions in point of those Beings.

ARGUMENT III.

'Tis needless to Plow, to Water, and give several preparatory Dispositions to Bodies, to fit them for what we desire from them. For GOD has no need of preparing the Subjects on which he Works.* 1.141

ANSWER.

I answer; That GOD may do absolutely all he pleases, without finding any Dispositions in the Subjects he works upon. But he cannot do it without a Miracle, or by Natural ways; that is, by the General Laws of the Communication of Motions, which he has constituted, and which he almost always follows in his Actings. GOD never multiplies his Wills without Reason; but acts always by the simplest Ways; and for that Reason he makes use of the Collision of Bodies, in giving them Motion. Not that this Collision is absolutely necessary to it, as our Senses tell us, but that being the Occasion of the Communication of Motions, there need be but very few Natural Laws to produce all the admirable Effects we see. For by this means we may reduce all the Laws of the Communication of Motions to one: Viz. That percutient Bodies being considered as but one, at the Moment of their Contact,* 1.142 or Collision, the moving Force is divided between them at their Separation, according to the Proportion of their Magnitude. But whereas concurrent Bodies are surrounded with infinite others, which act upon them, by Virtue and Efficacy of this Law; how∣ever constant and uniform this Law be, it produces a World of quite different Communications, because it acts upon infinite Bodies, which are all related to one another.

It is necessary to Water a Plant to make it grow; because by the Laws of the Communication of Motions, hardly any other than Watry Particles can by their Motion, and by reason of their Fi∣gure, insinuate and Wind up themselves into the Fibres of Plants, and by variously fastning and combining together, take the Figure that's necessary to their Nourishment. The subtil Matter which is constantly flowing from the Sun, may, by its agitating the Water, lift it into the Plants; but it has not a competent Motion to raise gross Earthy Particles. Yet Earth and Air too are ne∣cessary to the Growth of Plants; Earth to preserve the Water at their Root, and Air to give this Water a Moderate Fermentation. But the Action of the Sun, the Air, and Water, consisting but in the Motion of their Parts, in proper speaking, GOD is the only Agent. For as I have said, there is none but He that can by the efficacy of his Will, and by the Infinite Extent of his Know∣ledge cause and regulate those infinitely infinite Communications of Motions, which are made eve∣ry moment, and in a Proportion infinitely exact, and regular.

ARGUMENT IV.

Can God resist, and Fight against Himself? Bodies justle, strike, and resist one another, there∣fore Gods Acts not in them, unless it be by his concourse. For if it were he only that produc'd, and preserv'd Motion in Bodies, he would take care to divert them before the Collision, as know∣ing well that they are impenetrable. To what purpose are Bodies driven to be beaten back again,

why must they proceed to recoil? Or what signifies it to produce and Preserve useless Motions; Is it not an Absurdity to say that God impugns himself, and that He destroys his Works, when a Bull fights with a Lyon, when a Wolf devours a Sheep, and a Sheep eats the Grass which God makes to grow? Therefore there are Second Causes.

ANSWER.

Therefore Second Causes do all, and God does nothing at all. For God cannot act against him∣self, but Concourse is Action. The concurring to contrary Actions is giving contrary Concourse, and consequently doing contrary Actions. To concur with the Action of Creatures that resist each other, is to Act against himself. To concur to useless Motions, is to Act in vain. But God does nothing needless or in vain; he does no contrary Actions, and therefore concurs not to the Action of Crea∣tures that often destroy one another, and makes useless Actions and Motions. See where this proof of Second Causes leads us. But let us see what Reason says to it.

God Works all in every thing, and nothing resists him. He Works all in all things, in as much as his Will both makes, and regulates all Motions: And nothing resists him, because he does what e∣ver he Wills. But let us see how this is to be conceiv'd. Having resolv'd to produce by the simplest ways, as most conformable to Order that infinite Variety of Creatures which we admire, he will'd that Bodies should move in a right line, because that is the most simple. But Bodies being impene∣trable, and their Motions tending in Lines that oppose, or intersect one another, they must ne∣cessarily fall foul together, and consequently cease moving in the same manner. God foresaw this, yet notwithstanding positively will'd the Collision, or shock of Bodies; not that he's delighted in im∣pugning himself, but because he design'd to make use of this Collision as an Occasion for his esta∣blishing the General Law of the Communication of Motions; by which he foresaw he must produce an infinite Variety of admirable Effects. For I am perswaded that these two Natural Laws which are the simplest of all others: Namely, that All Motion tends to make it self in a right line; and that in the Collision, Motions are Communicated proportionably to the magnitude of the Colliding Bodies; are sufficient to produce such a World as we see: That is, the Heaven and Stars, and Planets, and Co∣mets, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire: In a Word, the Elements, and all Unorganiz'd, and ina∣nimate Bodies. For Organiz'd Bodies depend on many other Natural Laws, which are perfectly unknown. It may be living Bodies are not form'd like others by a determinate number of Natural Laws. For there is great probability, they were all form'd at the Creation of the World, and that Time only gives them a necessary Growth, to make them Visible to our Eyes; Nevertheless, it is certain, they receive that Growth by the General Laws of Nature, whereby all other Bodies are form'd which is the Reason, that their Increase is not always Regular.

I say then that God by the first of Natural Laws positively Wills, and consequently Causes the Collision of Bodies; and afterwards imploys this Collision as an Occasion of establishing the Second Natural Law; which regulates the Communication of Motions; and that thus the actual Collision, is the Natural, or Occasional Cause of the Actual Communication of Motions.

If this be well consider'd, it will be evidently acknowledg'd that nothing can be better Order'd. But supposing that God had not so Ordain'd it, and that he had diverted Bodies, when ready to encounter, as if there were a Vacuum to receive them, First they would not be subject to that per∣petual Vicissitude which makes the Beauty of the Universe: For the Generation of some Bodies is perform'd by the Corruption of Others; and 'tis the contrariety of their Motion which produces their Variety. Secondly God would not act in the most simple manner: For if Bodies ready to meet should continue on their Motion, without touching, they must needs describe Lines curv'd in a thousand different Fashions; and consequently different Wills must be admitted in God to deter∣mine their Motions. Lastly, if there were no Uniformity in the Action of Natural Bodies, and that their Motion were not made in a right Line, we should have no certain Principle for our Rea∣sonings in natural Philosophy, nor for our conduct in many Actions of our Life.

'Tis not a disorder that Lyons eat Wolves, and that Wolves eat Sheep, and Sheep grass, of which God has had so special a regard, as to give it all things necessary to its preservation, and likewise a Seed for perpetuating it's kind. This proves second causes no more, than the Plurality of Causes, of contrary Principles of Good, and Evil, which the Manichees imagin'd to account for these effects: But 'tis a certain Sign of the Grandeur, Wisdom and Magnificence of God. For God does no works unbecoming an infinite Wisdom, and he does them with that profusion as is a manifest proof of his Power, and Greatness. Whatever is destroy'd, is repair'd again by the same Law that de∣stroy'd it: So great is the Wisdom, Power and Fecundity of that Law. God prevents not the destruction of Beings by any new Will: not only because the first suffices to restore them; but especially because his Wills are of much greater value than the Reparation of these Beings. They are far more valuable than all that they produce. And God had never made this World, since not worthy of the Action by which it was produc'd, unless he had other prospects than are known by the Philosophers, and knew how to honour himself in JESUS CHRIST, with an honour which the Creatures are not capable of giving him.

When a House falls, and crushes an Honest Man to death: a greater Evil happens, than when one Beast devours another, or when a Body is forc'd to rebound by the shock it receives from the Encounter of another. But God does not multiply his Wills, to redress either the true or appa∣rent Disorders which are the necessary Consequences of natural Laws. God ought not to correct nor change these Laws, though they sometimes produce Monsters. He is not to confound the Or∣der,

and simplicity of his Ways. He must neglect mean and little things: I would say, he must not have particular Wills to produce effects, which are not equivalent to, or worthy of the Action of the Producer. God works not Miracles save when Order which he constantly follows requires it: which Order requires that he should act by the most simple ways; and make no exceptions to his general Wills, but when 'tis absolutely necessary to his designs, or on particular occasions, which we are absolutely ignorant of. Though we are all united to Order, or the Wisdom of God, yet we know not all the Rules of it. We see in it what we ought to do, but we cannot discover in it what God ought to Will, nor is it our business to be very sollicitous to know it.

A great instance of what I have said, we have in the Damnation of an infinite number of Persons, whom God suffer'd to perish in times of Ignorance▪ and Error: God is infinitely Good: He loves all his Works; He wills that all Men should be sav'd, and come to the Knowledge of the Truth, for he has made them to injoy him. And yet the greatest number are Damn'd. They live and die in blindness, and will remain in it to all Eternity. Comes not this from his acting by the simplest means, and his following Order? * 1.143 We have shown, that according to Order, God ought not to prevent by Indeliberate Pleasures the † 1.144 will of the first Man, whose Fall has disorder'd Nature. It was requisite that all Men should descend from one, not only because that is the most simple way, but for several too Theological and abstract Reasons to be here explain'd. In fine we ought to be∣lieve this conformable to the Order which God follows, and to the Wisdom he always consults in the intention, and execution of his designs. The first Man's Sin has produc'd infinite Evils, I con∣fess, but certainly Order requir'd that God should permit it, and that he should instate Man in a peccable condition.

God minded to repair his laps'd Work, seldom gives Victorious Graces that prevail over the malice of the greatest Sinners. Sometimes he gives Graces useless to the conversion of the Recei∣ver, though he foresees their inutility, and sometimes sheds them in great Plenty, yet with little effect: Commonly he acts as it were by degrees, giving Men secret inspirations of Self-denial and Repentance, as formerly he gave them Counsels in his Gospel. Thus he prepares them for the grace of Conversion, and last of all bestows it. Why all these round-about Methods and ways in∣direct? Would it not have been enough for him to have positively Will'd the Conversion of a Sin∣ner, to have effected it in an efficacious and irresistible manner? But is not it visible that this pro∣ceeds from his acting by the simplest Methods, and Orders willing it, though we do not always see it? For God must necessarily follow Order, and Wisdom in his actings, though these are Unfa∣thomable Abysses to the Mind of Man. There are certain most simple Laws in the Order of Grace, by which God for the most part acts: For this Order has its Rules as well as that of Nature, though we know them not, as we see those of the Communications of Motions. Only let us follow the Counsels which are given us in the Gospel by him, who perfectly knows the Laws of Grace.

This I say to pacify the unjust Complaints of Sinners, who despise the Counsels of JESUS CHRIST, and charge their Malignity and disorders upon God. They would have God show Miracles in their behalf, and dispense with the general Laws of Grace. They lead their Life in Pleasures, they seek out for Honours, and daily renew those wounds which sensible Objects have given their Brain, and add more to them, and after this expect God should cure them by a Miracle. Not unlike wounded Men, who in the excess of their Pain tear their Cloaths, renovate their Wounds, and when in the sight of approaching Death, complain of the cruelty of their Surgeons. They would have God to save them, because say they, God is Good, Wise, Powerful, and needs but determine it, to make us happy. Why did he make us to damn and destroy us? They ought to know that God Wills they should be sav'd, and to that intent has done all that could be done by Order, and Wisdom, which he consults. We cannot believe that he deserts us, whilst he gives us his own Son to be our Mediator, and Sacrifice. Yes, God is willing that all Mankind should be sav'd; but by ways that we ought to study with care, and follow with caution and weariness. God is not to consult our Passions, in the Execution of his designs: He can have no regard but to his Eternal Wisdom, nor follow any other rule than the Divine Order, which Order will have us imi∣tate JESUS CHRIST, and obey his Counsels, for our Sanctification and Salvation. But if God has not predestin'd all Men to be conformable to the Image of his Son, who is the Model, and Exemplar of the Elect: 'Tis because herein God acts by the most simple means, with reference to his designs, which all make for his Glory: 'Tis because God is an universal Cause, which ought not to act like particular Causes, which have particular Volitions for all they do. 'Tis because his Wisdom, which in this respect, is an Abyss to our apprehensions, Wills it so. Lastly, 'tis because this Conduct is more worthy of God than could be any other more favourable for the Reprobate. For even they are condemn'd hy an Order as worthy our Adorations, as that whereby the Elect are sanctified and sav'd: And nothing but our Ignorance of Order, and our Self-love, make us blame a Conduct which the Angels and Saints eternally admire. But let us return to the proofs of the efficacy of second Causes.

ARGUMENT V.

If Bodies had not a certain Nature or Force to act with, and if God did all things, there would be nothing but what was Supernatural, in the most ordinary effects. The distinction of Natural, and Supernatural, which has been so well receiv'd in the World, and establisht by the universal appro∣bation of the Learn'd, would be Chimerical and Extravagant.

ANSWER.

I answer that distinction is absurd in the Mouth of Aristotle, since the Nature he has establisht is a meer Chimera. I say that distinction is not clear in the mouth of the Vulgar part of Men, who judge of things by the Impression they make upon their Senses. For they know not precisely what they mean when they say, the Fire burns by it's Nature. I say that this distinction may pass in the mouth of a Divine, if he means by natural Effects, the consequences of the General Laws which God has settled for the production and preservation of all things: And by supernatural Effects those which are independent on these Laws. In this sense the Distinction is true. But the Philosophy of Aristotle together with the Impression of the senses, makes it, as I think, dangerous, because it may divert from God the too respectful admirers of the Opinions of that wretched Philosopher; or such as consult their senses instead of retiring into themselves to consult the Truth. And therefore that distinction is not to be made use of without an Explication, St. Austin having us'd the word for∣tune, retracted it, though there are few that could be deceiv'd by it.* 1.145 St. Paul speaking of meats offer'd to Idols, advertises that an Idol is nothing. If the Nature of the Heathen Philosophy be a fiction, if that nature be nothing, it should be precaution'd, for that there are many who are abus'd by it: And more than we suppose who inconsiderately attribute to it the Works of God, who are taken up with this Idol, or fiction of the Humane mind, and pay it those Honours which are only due to the Divinity. They are willing to let God be Author of Miracles, and some Extraordinary effects, which in one sense, are little worthy of his Greatness and Wisdom, and they refer to the Power of their Imaginary nature those constant and regular Effects, which none but the Wise know how to admire. They suppose too that this so wonderful disposition which all living Bodies have to preserve themselves, and beget their like, is a production of their Nature: For according to these Philosophers the Sun and Man beget a Man.

We may still distinguish between supernatural and natural Order, several ways. For we may say that the supernatural relates to future Goods; that it is establish't, upon consideration of the merits of CHRIST; that it is the first and principal in the designs of God; and other things enough to preserve a distinction, which they are vainly apprehensive should fall to the ground.

ARGUMENT VI.

The main proof which is brought by the Philosophers for the Efficacy of second Causes, is drawn from the will and liberty of Man, Man wills, and determines of himself. But to Will and Determine is to Act. 'Tis certainly Man who commits Sin, God not being the Author of it, any more than of Concupiscence and Error. Therefore Man acts.

ANSWER.

I have sufficiently explain'd in several Places of the Treatise about the Search of Truth, what is the Will, and Liberty of Man, and especially in the first Chapter of the first Book, and in the first Illustration upon it; so that it is needless to repeat it again. I acknowledge Man Wills, and Deter∣mines himself, in as much as God causes him to Will; incessantly carries him towards good, and gives him all the Idea's and Sensations, by which he determines his Impression. I know likewise that Man alone commits Sin. But I deny that therein he does any thing; For Sin, Errour, and even Concupiscence are nothing. I have explain'd my self upon this Point in the first Illustration.

Man wills, but his Volitions are impotent in themselves; they produce nothing, and God works all notwithstanding them. For 'tis even God that makes our Will, by the Impression he gives us towards Good. All that Man has from himself are * 1.146 Errour and Sin, which are nothing.

There is a great difference between our Minds and Bodies that are about us; I grant, Our Mind in one sense Wills, Acts, and Determines it self. Our own inward Consciousness is an evident Con∣viction. If we were destitute of Liberty, there could be no future Recompence and Punishment, for 'tis our Liberty that makes our Actions good or bad; and without it Religion would be but a Phantasm, and a Dream. But that which we cannot see clearly is, That Bodies have a force of Acting. This it is we cannot comprehend, and this we deny, when we deny the Efficacy of Second Causes.

Even the Mind acts not in that measure which is imagin'd. I know that I will, and that I Will freely; I have no Reason to doubt of it; which is stronger than that inward feeling I have of my self. Nor do I deny it, but I deny that my Will is the * 1.147 true Cause of the Motion of my Arm, of the Idea's of my Mind, and of other things which accompany my Volitions. For I see no Relation between so different things: Nay, I most clearly see there can be no Analogy between my Will to move my Arm, and the Agitation of some little Bodies, whose Motion and Figure I do not know, which make choice of certain Nervous Canals, amongst a Million of others unknown to me, in Or∣der to cause in me the Motion I desire, by a World of Motions, which I desire not. I deny that my Will produces in me my Idea's: I cannot see how 'tis possible it should; for since it cannot Act or Will without Knowledge, it supposes my Idea's, but does not make them. (Nay, I do not so much as know precisely what an Idea is.) I cannot tell, whether we produce them out of nothing, and send them back to the same nothing, when we cease to perceive them. I speak after the Notion of some Persons.

I produce, you'll say, my Idea's by the Faculty, which God gives me of Thinking. I move my Arm, because of the Union which God has establish'd between my Mind and Body. Faculty, Vni∣on, are Logical Terms, of loose and indeterminate Signification. There is no particular Being, nor Mode of Being, which is either Faculty or Vnion. Therefore these Terms ought to be explain'd. If, you'll say, that the Union of my Mind and Body consists, in God's willing, That, upon my Desire to move my Arm, the Animal Spirits should betake themselves to the Muscles it is compos'd of, to move it in the manner desir'd: I clearly understand this Explication, and receive it: But this is exactly my own Assertion. For if my Will determine that of God, 'tis evident, that my Arm is mov'd, not by my Will, which is impotent of it self, but by the Will of God, which ne∣ver fails of its Effect.

But if it be said, The Union of my Mind and Body consists in God's giving me a * 1.148 Force to move my Arm, as he has given my Body likewise a Force of making me feel Pleasure and Pain; to the end I may be sollicitous for this Body, and be concern'd for its Preservation; certainly this is to suppose the thing in dispute, and to make a Circle. No Man has a clear Idea of that Force which the Soul has over the Body, or the Body over the Soul; nor knows very well what he says when he positively asserts it. That Opinion has been embrac'd through Prejudice, has been learn'd in Infancy, and in the Age of Sense. But Understanding, Reason, and Reflexion have no part in it; which is manifest enough from what I have said in the foregoing Treatise.

But you'll say, I know by my inward Conscience of my Action, that I really have this Force; and therefore am not mistaken in believing it. I answer, That when I move my Arm, I am con∣scious to my self of the Actual Volition by which I move it; and I err not in believing I have that Volition. I have moreover an inward Sense of a certain Effort or Endeavour, which accompanies this Volition, and it is to believ'd that I make this Endeavour. Last of all, I grant that * 1.149 I have an inward feeling of the Motion of my Arm, at the instant of this Effort; which suppos'd, I agree to what is said, That the Motion of the Arm is perform'd at the instant a Man feels this Effort, or has a practical Volition of moving his Arm. But I deny that this Effort, which is no more than a Modification, or Sensation of the Soul, which is given us to make us understand our Weakness, and to afford us a confus'd and obscure Sensation of our Strength, can be capable of moving, and deter∣mining the Spirits. I deny there is any Analogy or Proportion between our Thoughts, and the Mo∣tions of Matter. I deny that the Soul has the least Knowledge of the Animal Spirits, which she imploys to move the Body Animated by her. Last of all, Though the Soul exactly knew the Ani∣mal Spirits, and were capable of moving them, or determining their Motions, yet I deny that with all this she could make choice of these Ductus of the Nerves, of which she has no Knowledge, so as to drive the Spirits into them, and thereby move the Body with that Readiness, Exactness, and Force; as is observable even in those who are the least acquainted with the Structure of their Body.

For supposing that our Volitions are truly the moving Force of Bodies, (howbeit that seems in∣conceivable) how can we conceive the Soul moves her Body? The Arm for Example is mov'd by means of an inflation or contraction caus'd by the Spirits in some of the Muscles, that compose it. But to the end the Motion imprinted by the Soul on the Spirits in the Brain may be Communicated to those in the Nerves, and from thence to others in the Muscles of the Arm, the Volitions of the Soul must needs multiply, or change in proportion to those almost infinite shocks or Collisions, that are made by the little Bodies that constitute the Spirits. But this is inconceivable, without admitting in the Soul, an infinite number of Volitions, upon the least Motion of the Body, since the moving it would necessarily demand an innumerable multitude of Communications of Motions. For in short, the Soul being but a particular Cause; and not able to know exactly the degrees of agitation, and the dimensions of infinite little Corpuscles, which encounter, upon the dispersion of the Spirits into the Muscles; she could not settle a General Law for the Communication of these Spirits Motion, nor follow it exactly, if she had establish't it. Thus it is evident, the Soul could not move her Arm, although she had the Power of determining the Motion of the Animal Spirits. These things are too clear to be longer insisted on.

The case is the same with our Thinking Faculty. We are inwardly conscious that we Will the Thinking on something; that we make an effort to that purpose, and that in the Moment of our desire and effort, the Idea of the thing presents it self to our Mind, but our inward Sensation does not tell us, that our Will or Effort produces our Idea. Reason does not assure us that it's possible; and only prejudice makes us believe that our desires are the causes of our Ideas, whilst we experiment an hundred times a Day, that the latter accompany or pursue the former. As God and his Opera∣tions have nothing sensible in them, and as we are not conscious of any thing but our desires that precede the presence of our Ideas, so we do not think our Ideas can have any other cause than these desires. But view the thing closely, and we shall see no force in us to produce them; neither Rea∣son nor Conscience giving us any information thereupon.

I don't think my self oblig'd to transcribe all the other proofs employ'd by the patrons for the Efficacy of Second Causes. Because they seem so trifling that I might be thoughts to design to ren∣der them Ridiculous: And I should make my self so, if I gave them a Serious Answer. An Au∣thor, for Example, very gravely asserts in behalf of his Opinion: Created Beings are true Material,

Formal, Final Causes, why must not they likewise, be Efficient or Efficacious? I fancy I should give the World little satisfaction, if to answer this Gentlemans Question, I should stand to explain so gross an Ambiguity, and show the difference between an Efficacious cause and that which the Philoso∣phers are pleas'd to call material. Therefore I leave such arguments as these to come to those which are drawn from Holy-Writ.

ARGUMENT VII.

The Defenders of the Efficacay of Second Causes, commonly alledge the following Passages to support their Opinion. Let the Earth bring forth Grass:* 1.150 Let the Waters bring forth the moving Crea∣ture that hath Life, and Fowl that may fly, &c. Therefore the Earth and Water, by the Word of God, receiv'd the Power of producing Plants, and Animals. Afterwards God Commanded the Fowls and Fishes to multiply, Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the Waters in the Seas, and let Fowl multiply in the Earth. Therefore he gave them a Power of begetting their like.

Our Saviour in the fourth Chapter of St. Mark says, the Seed which falls on good Ground, brings forth Fruit an Hundred-fold, and that the Earth bringeth forth Fruits of her self, first the blade then the Ear, after that the full Corn in the Ear. Lastly, it is written in the Book of Wisdom, that the Fire had as it were forgotten it's strength to Burn, in favour of the People of God. It is therefore cer∣tain from the Old and New Testament, that Second Causes have an Active Force.

ANSWER.

I answer, that in Holy-Writ there are many Passages which ascribe to God the pretended Effica∣cy of Second Causes, some of which are these. I am the Lord that maketh ALL THINGS,* 1.151 that stretcheth forth the Heavens ALONE, that spreadeth abroad the Earth by MY SELF. Thine hands have made me and fashion'd me * 1.152 together round about.

I cannot tell how you came into my Womb.—It was not I that form'd the Members of every one of you. But doubtless the Creator of the World who form••d the Generation of Man, &c. Seeing he giveth to Life, and breath, and all things. He causeth Grass to grow for the Cattle, and Herb for the service of Men, that he may bring forth food out of the Earth. There are infinite such like Passages, but let these suffice.

When an Author seems to Contradict himself: And Natural Equity, or a stronger Reason obliges us to reconcile him to himself; methinks we have an infallible Rule to discover his true Opinion. For we need but observe, when he speaks according to his own Light, and when after Common Opinion. When a Man Accommodates himself to the vulgar way of speaking, that is no sure sign he is of their Opinion. But when he says positively the contrary to what Custom Authorises, though he say it but once, we have Reason to conclude it his judgement, provided we know he speaks seriously and with Mature deliberattion.

For instance, when an Author speaking of the properties of Animals, shall say an hundred times over, that Beasts have sense, that Dogs know their Master, that they Love and Fear him; and but in two or three places shall affirm that Beasts are insensible, that Dogs are incapable of Knowledge, and that they neither Love nor Fear any thing; how shall we reconcile this Author to himself? Must we make a Collection of all his passages for and against it; and judge of his Opinion by the greater number? If so, I conceive there is no Man to whom, for example, may be attributed this Opinion, That Animals have no Soul. For even the Cartesians most frequently say, that a Dogs feels when he is beaten, and rarely it is that they affirm he does not feel. And although I my self en∣counter a vast multitude of prejudices in this Treatise, yet many passages may be gather'd from it, by which, unless this present Rule be admitted, it may be prov'd that I confirm them all, and even that I hold the Opinion of the Efficacy of Second Causes, which I am now refuting; or it may be it might be concluded that the Search after Truth abounds with gross and palpable contradictions, as do some Persons who I fear have not Equity, and penetration enough, to set up for judges of the Works of others.

Holy Scripture, and Fathers, and most Religious Men, speak oftner of sensible Goods, Riches, and Honours, in the vulgar Opinion, than by the true Ideas they have of them. Our LORD brings in Abraham saying to the Wicked Rich Man, Son, thou hast receiv'd thy GOOD things in thy Life time; that is, to say, Riches and Honour. What we by prejudice call Good, our Good, that is Gold and Silver, is stil'd in Scripture, in an hundred places our Sustenance, and Substance, and even our honesty, or that which Honours us, Paupertas & Honestas à Deo sunt.* 1.153 Must these ways of speaking us'd by the Holy Scripture, and the most Religious Persons, make us believe that they contradict themselves, or that Riches and Honours are truly our goods, and worthy our Love and our Researches? No, doubtless; Because the Modes of Speech, suiting with prejudices, signify nothing: And that we see elsewhere that Our SAVIOUR has compar'd Riches to Thorns, has told us, we must renounce them; that they are deceitful, and that all that's great and glorious in the World is an abomination in the sight of God. Therefore we must not heap together the Passages of Scripture or the Fathers, to judge of their Opinions by the greater number, unless we will attribute to them every Moment, the most irrational prejudices in the World.

This being suppos'd, 'tis plain that Holy Scripture says positively, 'tis God that makes all even to the Grass of the Field, that arrays the Lillies with such Ornaments as CHRIST pre∣fers before those of Solomon in all his Glory. 'Tis not only two or three, but innumerable Passages,

that Attribute to God the pretended Efficacy of Second Causes; and overthrow the Nature of the Peripateticks.

Besides, we are inclin'd as it were by a kind of Natural prejudice not to think on God, in Ordinary Effects. And to attribute force and Efficacy to Second Causes, for the generality none but Mira∣culous Effects can make us think on God as the Author; and the sensible impression engages us in the Opinion of Second Causes. The Philosophers hold this Opinion, because, say they, the Senses evince it. Which is their mightiest Argument. Lastly, this Opinion is receiv'd by all that follow the judgment of their Senses. The Language is accommodated to this prejudice, and 'tis as com∣monly said, That Fire has a Power to Burn, as that Silver and Gold are a Man's Goods. Where∣fore those Passages which the Scripture or Fathers afford us for the Efficacy of Second Causes, prove no more than those; That an Ambitious or Covetous Person would choose for the vindication of his Behaviour. But we are not to say so of those Expressions that may be brought for the proof of God's Working all in all. For since this Opinion is repugnant to prejudice, the Passages that assert it, are to be interpreted in their utmost Rigour: For the same Reason that we are to conclude it the Sentiment of a Cartesian, that Beasts are Insensible, though he should say it but now and then, and should constantly in common Discourse say the contrary; as that they Feel, See, and Hear.

In the first Chapter of Genesis, God Commands the Earth to produce Plants, and Animals, and Orders the Waters to bring forth Fish, and Consequently say the Peripateticks the Water and Earth, were indu'd with a competent Virtue, to produce these Effects.

I cannot see the certainty of this conclusion; nor any necessity of admitting this consequence, though we were oblig'd to explain this Chapter by it self, without recourse to other passages of Scripture. This method of expounding the Creation, is adapted to our way of conceiving things, and so there is no necessity of our taking it Literally, nor ought we to lay it as a Foundation to our prejudices. Since we see Animals, and Plants on the Earth, Fowls inhabiting the Air, and Fishes living in the Water, God, to let us understand, that his Order constituted them in these Places, produc'd them therein. From the Earth he form'd Animals, and Plants, not that the Earth was capable of Generating, or as if God had to that intent given it a force, and Vertue which it retains till now; (For we are sufficiently agreed that the Earth does not Procreate Horses and Oxen) but because out of the Earth the Bodies of Animals were form'd, as is said in the following Chapter. Out of the ground the Lord form'd every Beast of the field, and every Fowl of the Air. The Animals were form'd out of the gound,* 1.154 (formatis de humo animantibus, says the Vulgar Latin) and not pro∣duc'd by it. Therefore when Moses had related how Beasts and Fish were produc'd by Vertue of the Command which God gave the Earth and Water to produce them, he adds that it was God that made them,* 1.155 lest we should attribute their Production to the Earth and Water. And God CREATED great Whales, and every living Creature that moveth, which the WATERS BROVGHT FORTH abundantly after their kind, and every winged Fowl after his kind, and a little lower, after he had spoken of the formation of Animals, he adjoyns, And GOD MADE the Beast of the Earth after his kind, and Cattel after their kind, and every thing that creep∣eth on the Earth after his kind.

But 'tis observable, by the way, That what the Vulgar Translates, Producant aquae reptile animae viventis, & volatile super terram, and our English, Let the Water bring forth abundantly the moving Creature that hath Life, and Fowl that may fly above the Earth, the Hebrew has it Volatile VOLITET, Let the Fowl fly above the Earth: Which distinction shows, as is evident from the fore-cited passage of the next Chapter, that Fowls were not produc'd from the Water, and that it was not Moses's design to prove that the Waters were truly empower'd to produce Fish and Fowl, but only to denote the respective place design'd for each, by the Order of God, whether to live, or to be pro∣duc'd in; Et volatile VOLITET super Terram. For commonly when we say that the Earth produces Trees, and Plants, we only mean to signifie that it furnishes Water, and Salts, which are necessary to the Germination, and increase of Seeds. But I dwell no longer on the Explication of these Scripture Passages, which Literally taken, make for Second Causes: For we are so far from being oblig'd, that it is sometimes dangerous to take Expressions in the Letter, which are founded on common Opinion, by which the Language is form'd. For the vulgar part of Men speak of all things according to the Impressions of Sense, and the Prejudices of Infancy.

The same Reason which constrains us to interpret Literally such Scripture Passages, as directly oppose Prejudices, gives us Reason to believe the Fathers never design'd ex proposito, to maintain the Efficacy of Second Causes, or the Nature of Aristotle. For though they often speak in a manner that countenances Prejudices, and the Judgments of Sense, yet they sometimes so explain them∣selves, as to manifest the disposition of their Mind and Heart. St. Austin, for instance, gives us sufficiently to understand, That he believed the Will of God, to be the Force and Nature of every thing,* 1.156 when he speaks thus, We are wont to say, but not truly, that Prodigies are against Nature; For the Nature of every Creature being but the Will of the Creator; How can that which is done by the Will of God be contrary to Nature? Miracles therefore and Prodigies are not against Nature, but against what we know of it.

'Tis true, St. Austin speaks in several places according to Prejudices: But I affirm that that is no Argument; for we are not Literally to explain, but those Expressions which are contrary to them; for which I have given the Reasons.

If St. Austin in his Works, had said nothing against the Efficacy of Second Causes, but had al∣ways favour'd this Opinion, his Authority might be made use of to confirm it. But if it should not appear that he had industriously examin'd that Question, we might still have reason to think he had no settled and resolv'd Opinion about the Subject, but was, it may be, drawn by the Impression of the Senses inconsiderately to believe a thing which no Man would doubt of, before he had carefully examin'd it.

'Tis certain for example that St. Austin always speaks of Beasts, as if they had a Soul, I say not a Corporeal Soul; for that Holy Father too well knew the distinction of the Soul and Body, to think there were Corporeal Souls; I say a Spiritual Soul, for Matter is incapable of Sense. And yet it would seem, methinks, more reasonable, to employ the Authority of St. Austin to prove that Beasts have not a Soul, than to prove they have.* 1.157 For from the Principles which he has carefully examin'd, and strongly establish'd, it manifestly follows they have none, as is shown by Ambrosius Victor, in his Sixth Volume of Christian Philosophy. But the Opinion that Beasts have a Soul, and are sensible of Pain when we strike them, being consonant to Prejudices, (for there is no Child but believes it;) we have still reason to believe that he speaks according to Custom and Vulgar Opini∣on; and that if he had seriously examin'd the Question, and once began to doubt and make reflexi∣on, he would never have said a thing so contrary to his Principles.

And thus, though all the Fathers had constantly favour'd the Efficacy of Second Causes, yet, it may be, no regard were due to their Opinion, unless it appear'd that they had carefully Examin'd the Question, and that their Assertions, were not the results of common Speech, which is form'd and founded upon Prejudices. But the case is certainly quite contrary; for the Fathers, and such as were most Holy, and best acquainted with Religion, have commonly manifested in some places or other of their Works, what was their Disposition of Mind and Heart, in reference to the pre∣sent Question.

The most Understanding, and indeed the greatest number of Divines, seeing that on one hand the Holy Scripture was repugnant to the Efficacy of Second Causes, and on the other, that the Impression of the Senses, the publick Vote, and especially Aristotle's Philosophy, which was had in veneration by the Learned, establish it: For Aristotle believ'd God unconcern'd in the particulars of Sublunary Transactions; That that change was below his Majesty, and that Nature which he supposes in all Bodies, suffic'd to produce all that was done below. The Divines, I say, have so equally balanc'd these Two, as to reconcile Faith with Heathen Philosophy, Reason with Sense, and to make Second Causes ineffective without the additional concourse of God Almighty. But because that immediate concourse, whereby God acts jointly with Second Causes includes great difficulties, some Philosophers have rejected it, pretending that in Order to their Acting, there needs no more than that God should continue to them their Vertue he endow'd them with in their Creation. And since this Opinion is exactly agreeable with Prejudice, because of the insensible Operation of God, in Second Causes, it is commonly embrac'd by the vulgar sort of Men, and such as have more stu∣died Ancient Naturalists and Physicians, than Theology and Truth. Most are of Opinion that God created all things at first, and gave them all the Qualities and Faculties that were necessary to their preservation; that he has, for example, given the first Motion of Matter, and left it afterwards to it self, to produce, by the Communication of its Motions that admirable variety of Forms we see. 'Tis Ordinarily suppos'd that Bodies can move one another; and this is said to be Mr. des Cartes's Opinion, though he speaks expresly against it, in the Thirty Sixth and Seventh Articles of the Second Part of his Philosophical Principles. Since Men must unavoidably acknowledge that the Creatures depend on God, they lessen and abridge, as much as possible, that dependance, whether out of a secret Aversion to God, or a strange and wretched stupidity and insensibility to his Ope∣ration. But whereas this Opinion is receiv'd but by those who have not much studied Religion, and have preferr'd their Senses to their Reason, and Aristotle's Authority to that of Holy Writ, we have no reason to fear its making way into the Mind of those, who have any Love for Truth and Religion; for provided a Man seriously examin'd it, he must needs discover its falsity. But the Opinion of God's Immediate Concourse to every Action of Second Causes, seems to accord with those Passages of Scripture, which often attribute the same Effect, both to GOD and the Creature.

We must consider then, that there are places in Scripture, where 'tis said that God is the only Agent: I am the Lord that maketh all things, that stretcheth forth the Heavens alone,* 1.158 that spread∣eth abroad the Earth by my self. Ego sum Dominus, says Isaiah, faciens OMNIA, Extendens coe∣los SOLVS, stabiliens Terram, & NVLLVS Mecum. A Mother Animated with the Spirit of God, tells her Children, it was not her that form'd them, I cannot tell how you came into my Womb: For I neither gave you Breath nor Life, neither was it I that form'd the Members of eve∣ry one of you: But doubtless the Creator of the World, &c. Nescio qualiter in utero meo apparuistis, singulorum membra NON EGO IPSA COMPEGI, sed mundi Creator.* 1.159 She does not say with Aristotle, and the School of the Peripateticks that to her, and the Sun, they ow'd their Birth; but to the Creator of the Universe. Which Opinion that God only Works, and forms Children in their Mothers Womb, not being conformable to Prejudice and Common Opinion; These Sen∣tences

according to the pre-establish'd Principle,* 1.160 must be explain'd in the Literal Sense. But on the contrary, the Notion of Second Causes falling in with the vulgar Opinion, and being Suited to the sensible impression; the Passages which expresly make for the separate Efficacy of Second Causes, must be reckon'd invalid when compar'd with the former. Concourse therefore is insuffi∣cient to reconcile the different Texts of Scripture; and all Force, Power and Efficacy must be as∣crib'd to God.

But though the immediate concurrence of God with Second Causes, were fit to accommodate the disagreeing passages of Holy Writ, yet after all it is a question whether it ought to be admitted. For the Sacred Books were not compos'd for the Theologists of these times, but for the People of the Jews. So that if this People had not understanding, or Subtilty enough, to imagine a Concourse, such as is admitted in School-Divinity, and to agree to a thing which the greatest Divines are hard put to, to explain, it follows, if I mistake not, that the Holy Scripture which Attributes to God, and even to God alone, the production and preservation of all things, would have betray'd them into Error. And the Holy Pen-Men had stood chargeable with writing not only in an unintelligi∣ble, but deceitful Language. For in saying that God Work'd all, they would have design'd no more than that God assisted to all things with his concourse, which was not probably so much as thought on by the Jews; Those amongst them, who were not very great Philosophers, believing, that God Work'd all, and not that he concurr'd to all.

But that we may pass a more certain judgement about this Concourse, it would be requisite to ex∣plain with care the different Hypotheses of the School-Men upon it. For besides, those impene∣trable Clouds, and Obscurities which involve all the Opinions, that cannot be explain'd and de∣fended without loose and indefinite Terms; there are upon this Matter so great a variety of Opi∣nions, that it would be no hard Matter to discover the cause of them. But I design not to engage in a discussion that would be so wearisom to my self as well as the greatest part of Readers: On the contrary, I had rather try to show that my Opinions may in some thing accord with those of the greater number of Scholastick Divines, though I cannot but say their Language looks very Ambi∣guous and confus'd. To explain my self.

I am of Opinion, as I have said elsewhere, that Bodies for example have no Force to move them∣selves, and that therefore their moving force is nothing but the Action of God; or not to make use of a Term which has no distinct import, their moving force is nothing but the Will of God, al∣ways necessarily Efficacious, which successively preserves them in different Places. For I believe not that God Creates any particular Beings, to make the moving force of Bodies; not only because I have no Idea of such a kind of Being, nor see how they could move Bodies: But also because these Beings themselves would have need of others to move them, and so in infinitum. For none but God is truely Immoveable, and Mover altogether.

Which being so, when a Body strikes, and moves another, I may say that it Acts by the Con∣currence of God, and that this Concurrence is not distinct from its own Action. For a Body meeting another moves it, by its Action, or its moving force, which at bottom is nothing but the Will of God preserving the Body successively in different Places, the translation of a Body being not it's Action, or moving force, but the Effect of it. Almost all Divines say too, that the Action of Se∣cond Causes is not different from that of God's Concurrence with them. For though they have a various Meaning, yet they suppose that God Acts in the Creatures by the same Action as the Crea∣tures. And they are oblig'd, if I mistake not, thus to speak: For if the Creatures Acted by an Action which God Work'd not in them, their Action, consider'd as such, would no doubt, be independent. But they acknowledge, as it becomes them, that the Creatures depend immediately on God, not only as to their Being, but likewise as to their Operation.

So likewise, in point of free Causes, I believe that God incessantly gives the Mind an Impression towards Good in General, and that he moreover determines this Impression towards particular Goods, by the Idea's or Sensations that he gives us, as I have explain'd in the first Illustration; which is the same with what the Divines intend, by affirming, That God moves, and prevents our Wills. Thus the Force which puts our Minds in Motion, is the Will of God, which Animates us, and inclines us towards Good. For God Creates not Beings to constitute the moving force of Minds, for the same Reason that he Creates none to be the moving force of Bodies. The Wills of God being of themselves Efficacious, He need but Will, to do. And we ought not to multiply Beings without necessity. Besides, whatever is real in the determinations of our Motions, pro∣ceeds likewise from the Action of God in us, as appears from the first Illustration. But all we Act or produce, is by our Wills, that is, by the Impression of the Will of God, which is our moving force. For our Wills are Efficacious no farther than they are of God, as mov'd Bodies impel not others, but in as much as they have a moving force that translates them; which is no other than the Will of God, which Creates or preserves them successively in different places. Therefore we Act no otherwise than by the Concourse of God;* 1.161 and our Action consider'd as Efficacious, and ca∣pable of producing any Effect, differs not from his, but is, as say most Divines, the self same Acti∣on, eadem numero actio.

Now all the Changes which arrive in the World have no other Natural Cause, than the Motions of Bodies, and Volitions of Minds. For, First, by the General Laws of the Communications of Mo∣tions, the invisible Bodies which surround the visible, produce, by their various Motions, all these divers Changes, whose Cause is not apparent. And, Secondly, by the Laws of Union of our Soul and Body, when circumambient Bodies Act upon our own, they produce in our Soul a multiplicity of Sensations, Idea's, and Passions. Thirdly, Our Mind, by its Volitions, produces in it self infinite

different Idea's; for they are our Volitions, which as Natural Causes intend, and Modifie our Mind: Their Efficacy, nevertheless, proceeds from the Laws which God has establish'd. And, Lastly, when our Soul acts upon our Body, she produces several Changes in it, by vertue of the Laws of her Union with it; and by means of our Body she effects in those about it abundance of Changes, by vertue of the Laws of Communication of Motions. So that the Motions of Bodies and the Volitions of Minds, are the only Natural, or Occasional Causes of Natural Effects, which no Man will deny who uses any Attention; supposing only, he be not prepossest by those who understand not what they say, who fancy perpetually to themselves such Beings as they have no clear Idea's of, and who offer to explain things which they do not understand, by others absolutely incomprehensible. Thus having shown that God by his Concourse, or rather by his Efficacious Will, performs whatever is done by the Motions of Bodies, and the Wills of Minds, as Natural or Occasional Causes, it appears that God does every thing by the same Action of the Creature. Not that the Creatures have of themselves any Efficacious Action, but that the Power of God is in a manner Communicated to them, by the Natural Laws which God has establish'd on their account.

This then is all that I can do to reconcile my Thoughts to the Opinion of those Divines, who defend the necessity of immediate Concourse, and hold that God does All in all things by an Action no ways differing from the Creatures. For, as to the rest of the Divines,* 1.162 I think their Opinions utterly indefensible, and especially that of Durandus, together with the Sentiments of some of the Ancients, refuted by St. Austin, who absolutely deni••d the necessity of God's Concurrence, pre∣tending, that Second Causes did all things by the Power which God in their Creation gave them. For though this Opinion be less intricate and perplex'd, than that of other Divines, yet to me it seems so repugnant to Scripture, and so suitable to Prejudices, to say no worse of it, that I think it altogether unwarrantable▪

I confess that the School-Men, who make God's immediate concourse to be the same Action with that of the Creatures, do not perfectly agree with my Explication; and all those that I have read,* 1.163 except Biel and Cardinal d' Ailly, are of Opinion, That the Efficacy which produces Effects pro∣ceeds from the Second Cause as well as the First. But as I make it indispensable for me to speak nothing but what I clearly conceive, and always to take the side that best comports with Religion, I think I am not liable to blame, for deserting an Opinion which to many Men seems still more in∣conceiveable, as they strive more to comprehend it; and for establishing another, which agrees perfectly not only with Reason, but also with the Sacredness of our Religion, and Christian Morality, which is a Truth already prov'd in the Chapter that's the Subject of these Reflexions. However 'tis not inconvenient to say something to it, that I may fully verifie what I have said upon the pre∣sent Question.

Both Reason and Religion evince, That God will be Lov'd, and rever'd by his Creatures: Lov'd as Good, and Rever'd as Power. Which is such a Truth as it would be Impiety and Madness to doubt of. To love God, as he requires and deserves, we must, according to the First Command∣ment, both of the Law and Gospel, and by Reason it self, as I have * 1.164 somewhere shown, Love Him with all our Strength, or with the whole extent of our Loving Capacity. 'Tis not sufficient to pre∣fer Him before all things, unless we moreover Love Him in all things. For otherwise our Love is not so perfect as it ought to be, and we return not to God all the Love that he gives us, and gives us only for Himself, in whom every one of His Actions Center.

So to render to God all the Reverence that is due to Him; 'tis not enough to adore Him, as the Supreme Power, and fear Him more than His Creatures; we must likewise fear and adore Him in all His Creatures; all our respects must perpetually tend towards Him, to whom alone Honour and Glory are to be ascrib'd: Which is what God Commands us in these Words:* 1.165 Thou shalt Love the Lord thy God, with all thy Heart, and with all thy Soul, and with all thy Strength. And in these: Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve. Thus the Philosophy that convinces us that the Efficacy of Second Causes is a Fiction of the Mind, that the Nature of Aristotle, and some other Philosophers, is a Chimera, that none but God is Strong and Powerful enough, not only to Act on our Soul, but even to give the least Motion to Matter. This Philosophy, I say, perfectly Accommodates with Religion, whose end is to Unite us to God in the strictest Bonds.

'Tis Customary with us to Love only those things which are capable of doing us some Good. This Philosophy therefore Authorises only the Love of God, and Condemns the Love of every thing else. We ought to fear nothing but what is able to do us some Evil. Therefore this Philosophy approves the fear of God, and absolutely Condemns all other: Thus it justifies all the just and Reasonable Motions of our Soul, and Condemns all those that are contrary to Reason and Religion: For we can never justifie the Love of Riches, the desire of Greatness, the Extravagance of De∣bauchery by this Philosophy, by the Principles whereof, the Love for Bodies is absurd and ridi∣culous.

'Tis an indisputable Truth, 'tis a Natural Opinion, 'tis even a Common Notion that we ought to Love the cause of our Pleasure, and to Love it proportionably to the Felicity it either Actually does, or is able to possess us with. 'Tis not only just, but as it were necessary that the cause of our happiness, should be the Object of our Love. Therefore this Philosophy will teach us to Love God only, as being the only Cause of our Felicity: That surrounding Bodies cannot Act upon that we Animate; and consequently much less upon our Mind. That 'tis not the Sun which enlightens us, and gives us Life and Motion: Nor that fills the Earth with Fruits, and Beautifies it with Flowers, and supplies us with Food and Nourishment. This Philosophy seconding the Scripture, * 1.166 teaches that 'tis God alone who gives us Rain, and Regulates the Seasons, that fills our Bodies with

Food, and our hearts with Joy, that he alone is able to do us good; and thereby has given a perpetual Testi∣mony of what he is; though in the ages passed he suffer'd all Nations to walk in their own ways. Accord∣ing to the Language of this Philosophy, we must not say that 'tis Nature that fills us with good; nor that it is * 1.167 God and Nature together: But that it is God alone, speaking thus without Ambiguity, for fear of deceiving the Ignorant. For we must distinctly acknowledge one cause of our happiness, if we we make it the only Object of our Love.

'Tis likewise an undeniable Truth, That we ought to fear things that are able to harm us, and to fear them, in Proportion to the Evil they can do us. But this Philosophy teaches us that God only can do us evil; that 'tis he, as says Isaiah, who forms the Light and creates Darkness, who makes Peace and creates Evil;* 1.168 and there is no Evil but what he does, as says the Prophet Amos. Therefore it is he only that is to be fear'd. We must not fear either Plague or War, or Famine, or our E∣nemies, or even Devils themselves: But God alone. We ought to shun the Sword, when we see a Blow a coming, we are to fly the Fire, and avoid a ruinous House that's ready to crush us; but we must not fear these things. We may fly from those Bodies which are the Occasional or Natural Causes of Evil, but we must fear God as the true Cause of all the misfortunes of Sinners; and hate only Sin which necessarily provokes the cause of our Happiness to become the Cause of our Misery: In a Word all the Motions of our Mind, must center upon God, since he alone's above it, and the Motions of our Body may relate to the Bodies round it. This is what we learn from that Philosophy that admits not the Efficacy of Second Causes.

But this Efficacy being suppos'd, I cannot see but we have reason to fear and Love Bodies; and that to regulate our Love by Reason, we need but prefer God before all things; the First and Vni∣versal, to every Second and Particular Cause. We can see no need of Loving him with all our Strength; Ex totâ mente, ex toto corde, ex totâ animâ, ex totis viribus, as says the Scripture.

Yet when a Man contents himself in preferring God to all things, and adoring him with a Worship, and a Love of Preference, without making a continual Effort to Love and Honour him in all things: It often fortunes that he deceives himself, that his Charity vanishes, and is lost: And that he is more taken up with sensible than the supream Good. For should it be demanded of the greatest Sin∣ners, and even Idolaters, whether they preferr'd the universal to particular Causes, they would make no scruple to answer amidst their Debauches, Errours and Extravagance; that they are not wanting to their essential Duty, and that they are very sensible of what they owe to God. 'Tis ac∣knowledg'd that they are deceiv'd. But take away the Efficacy of Second Causes, and they have no probable Pretext left to justifie their Conduct and Behaviour; whilst if it be granted them, they will think and Discourse with themselves in the following manner, when blinded by their Passions, and attentive to the Testimony of their Senses.

I am made for Happiness: Neitheir can I, nor indeed ought I, to supersede my Love and Re∣spect, for whatever can be the Cause of my Felicity: Why then must not I Love and respect sensible Objects, if they be the true Causes of the Happiness I find in their Enjoyment? I acknow∣ledge the Sovereign Being as only worthy of Sovereign Worship, and I prefer Him before all the World, But since I see not that He requires any thing from me, I enjoy the Goods he affords by Means of Second Causes, to which he has subjected me: And I pay not my Grati∣tude to him, which perhaps would be to his Dishonour. As he gives me no Blessing, immediate∣ly and by himself, or at least without the Assistance of his Creatures, 'tis a Sign he requires not the immediate Application of my Mind and Heart; at least, that he desires the Creatures should partake with him, in the Acknowledgments and Resentments of my Heart and Mind. Seeing he has communicated Part of his Power and Glory to the Sun, has environ'd him with Splendour and Majesty, and has given him the Supremacy in all his Works; and seeing from the Influence of this great Luminary, we receive all the necessary Blessings of Life; Why should we not em∣ploy a part of this indebted Life, in rejoicing in his Light, and testifying the Sense we have of his Greatness and his Benefits? Wou'd it not be the most shameful Ingratitude, to receive from that excellent Creature abundance of all things, and yet to shew no Sense of Gratitude to him for them? And should we not be unspeakably blind and stupid, to be unmov'd with Fear and Veneration in Respect of him, whose Absence freezes us to Death, and whose too near Approach can burn and destroy us? I say it again, that God is preferable to all things, and infinitely more estimable than his Creatures: But we are to fear and Love his Creatures also. For hereby we pay Legitimate Honour to their Creatour; Merit his good Graces, and oblige him to shower new Benefits upon us. 'Tis manifest, he approves of the Honour that is given to his Creatures; since they partake of his Power, and all Power deserves to be honour'd. But because Honour ought to be Proportion'd to Power, and that the Power of the Sun, and all other sensible Objects, is such, as derives to us all sorts of Goods, 'tis reasonable we should Honour them with all our Strength, and, next to God, Consecrate to them all our Being.

These are the Natural Reasonings a Man would fall into, that should ground upon the Prejudice of the Efficacy of Second Causes; and probably such was the Arguing of the first Founders of Idola∣try. Take here his Sense of it, who passes for the most Learned of all the Jews: He Prefaces a a Treatise he wrote about Idolatry with these Words.

In the days of Enos Men fell into strange Illusions,* 1.169 and the Wise Men of that Age quite lost their Sense and Reason. Enos himself was one of those deluded Persons, whose Errours were these. Since God, said they, has created the Heavens and Stars to

govern the World, has constituted them on ••igh, and invested them with Glory and Lustre, and em∣ploys them in executing his Commands, 'tis just that we should honour them, and pay them our Defe∣rence and Homage. 'Tis the Will of our God, that Honour should be given to those whom he has exalted and enthron'd in Glory; as a Prince requires that his Ministers should be ••onour'd in his Presence, be∣cause the Honour which is given to them redounds to himself.* 1.170 When once this Notion had entred their Head, they fell to building Temples in Honour of the Stars, gave them Sacrifice and Praises, and even pro∣strated themselves before them; thereby imagining to purchase the favour of Him that created them: And this was the Original of Idolatry.

It is so Natural and just to have grateful Resentments in Proportion to the Goods we receive, that almost all Nations have ador'd the Sun, because they all concluded him the Cause of the Bles∣sings they enjoy'd. And if the Aegyptians ador'd not only the Sun and Moon, and River Nile,* 1.171 be∣cause its overflowing caus'd the Fertility of their Country, but even the vilest of Animals: 'Twas (as Cicero relates) from the Emolument they receiv'd from them. Therefore, as we cannot, and indeed ought not to Extirpate from Men's Minds, their Natural Inclination for the true Causes of their Happiness, 'tis evident there is at least some danger in ascribing Efficacy to Second Causes, though we conjoyn the necessity of an immediate Concourse, which has, methinks, I know not what of incomprehensible purport, and which strikes in as an after-game to justifie our imbib'd Prejudices, and Aristotle's Philosophy.

But there's no danger in speaking only what we see, and of Attributing only to God Efficacy and Power, since we see nothing but His Wills, which have an absolutely necessary and indispensible connexion with Natural Effects▪ I own that now adays, Men are Wise enough to avoid those gross Errors of Heathens and Idolaters; but I fear not to say, our Mind is still dispos'd, or rather our Heart is often bent like that of the Heathens; and that there will ever be in the World some kind of Idolatry, until the Day in which JESUS CHRIST shall restore up His Kingdom to God his Father, having first destroy'd all Empire Dominion and Power, that God may be All in all. For is it not a kind of Idolatry, to make a God of ones Belly, as speaks S. Paul?* 1.172 * 1.173 Is not he an Idolater to the God of Riches, who labours Night and Day to acquire them? Is this to render to God the Worship we owe Him? Is this to adore Him in Spirit and in Truth, to have our Hearts fill'd with some sensible Beauty, and our Mind struck and dazled with the Lustre of some imaginary Grandeur?† 1.174

Men fancying to themselves, that Circumambient Bodies afford the pleasures they enjoy in the use of them, Unite to them with all the Powers of their Soul; and thus the Principle of their Cor∣ruption lies in the sensible Conviction of the Efficacy of Second Causes. 'Tis only Reason that assures them none but God Acts in them. But besides that, this Reason speaks so low that it is scarce Audible, and that the Contradicting Senses cry so loud, that their Clamour Stunns and Stupefies them, they are yet farther confirm'd in their Prejudice, by Reasons and Arguments that are so much dangerous, as they have more External Characters and sensible marks of Truth.

The Philosophers, but especially the Christian Philosophers, ought to wage an uninterrupted War with Prejudices, or the Judgements of their Senses, and particularly those of so dangerous importance, as that of the Efficacy of Second Causes. And yet there are Men, whom I extremely honour, (as I have just Reason) who from I know not what Principle endeavour to confirm this Prejudice, and to make so holy, so pure and solid a Doctrine as this, which owns no other true Cause than God, pass for Superstitious and Extravagant Opinion. They will not have us to Love and Fear God in all things, but to Love and Fear all things with reference to God. We ought, say they,* 1.175 to Love the Creatures, since they are good; to Love and respect our Father▪ to give Honour to our Prince and Superiours, since God Commands it. Nor do I deny it; but I deny that we are to Love the Creatures as our Goods, though they be good or perfect in themselves. I deny that we are to pay service and respect to Men as to our Masters. Or, to explain my self more clearly, I say, we must not serve our Master, obey our Father, or Prince, with any other design than to serve and obey God. S. Paul, who became all things to all Men, and was complaisant in all things; for the Salvation of those he Preach'd to, speaks thus: Servants be obedient to them that are your Masters, according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your Heart, as unto CHRIST; not with Eye-Service, as Men pleasers, but as the Servants of Christ, doing the Will of God from the Heart, with good Will doing Service, AS TO THE LORD, AND NOT TO MEN. And in another Epistle. Not with Eye-Service, as to MEN, but in singleness of Heart, fearing GOD. And whatever ye do, do it Heartily, AS TO THE LORD, and NOT VNTO MEN. We must therefore obey our Father, serve our Prince, and Honour our Superiours, AS UNTO GOD AND NOT UNTO MEN. This is manifest, and can have no Evil conse∣quences: For hereby Superiours would always be more honour'd, and better serv'd. But I think it may be said, That a Master, who would be honour'd and serv'd, as having in himself another Power than that of God, would be a Devil; and that those who serv'd him under that apprehension would be Idolaters; for I cannot refrain from believing that all Honour and Love, that have not God for their End, are Species of Idolatry.

Soli Deo honor & gloria.

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

'TIS thought by some Persons to be too rash, and venturous conjecturing, and abusing loose and General Terms, To say that God always Acts with Order, and by ways that are most simple and easie for the Execution of his designs. Wherefore it will not be an use∣less undertaking to prove and explain this Truth, since 'tis of the greatest consequence, not only to the knowledge of Nature, but much more for the knowledge of Religion and Morality.

By the Word [God] we understand an infinitely perfect Being, whose Wisdom and Know∣ledge have no bounds, and who consequently knows all the means by which he can execute his De∣signs. Which suppos'd, I say, that God Acts always by the shortest means, and by the sim∣plest ways.

To make my meaning better understood, I take a sensible Example. I suppose that God Wills the Body A should strike the Body B. Since God knows all, He perfectly knows that A may tend to strike against B by innumerable crooked Lines, and by but one right. Now God Wills only the impulsion of B by A; and we suppose that he only Wills the Translation of A to B, to effect this impulsion. A then must be convey'd to B by the shortest way, that is, by a right Line. For if the Body A were convey'd to B by a crooked Line, that would show either that the conveyer knew no other way, or that he purpos'd not only the Collision of these Bodies, but also the means of making it, otherwise than by Relation to it, which is against the Supposition.

There is required so much more Action to convey a Body from A to B, by a curv'd than by a right Line, as the curv'd is longer than the right. If therefore, God translated A to B by a curv'd Line, double to the interjacent right, half of the Action of God would be intirely useless, and so half his Action would be produc'd without design and end, as well as without effect; therefore,

Again, Action in God is Will; therefore more Will is requir'd in God, to cause A to be cir∣culary than directly translated. But we suppose that God had no Will in respect of the Motion of A, but as it relates to the Collision; therefore there is not Will enough in God to move A by a crooked Line; and consequently 'tis a Contradiction for A to be so mov'd. Thus it is a Contra∣diction, that God should not Act by the most simple ways, unless we suppose that God, in the choice of means he imploys for the executing his designs, has something else in view than these de∣signs, which is a Contradiction in our Supposition.

When I say there is more Will in God to translate a Body from A to B, by a crooked Line than by a strait; it is not to be thence concluded, against the simplicity of God's Essence and Action. For it must be acknowledged, That it is not comprehensible, how either the simplicity of an Infinite Being, includes all the different perfections of Finite Beings; or how his Will continuing ever the same, and always conformable to Order, varies with reference to the different Beings it produces, and preserves. I speak but according to our way of conceiving things: Now, methinks, I have a most clear Conception, That when God Wills, and Creates, for Example, one cubical foot of Matter, He Wills another thing than when He Creates two. For nothing is plainer than that God could not Create two different things, nor know whether he Created one or two Cube-feet of Matter, or whether he convey'd a Body circularly or directly, if there were not in His Wills some difference, in regard to Matter and its Motion, since God sees no otherwise than in Himself, and in his own Wills, all the differences of His Creatures. Now whatever that Action is in God, which relates to the different Beings produc'd, or preserv'd by Him, I call the Differences, or Augmen∣tations and Diminutions of Will in God. And in this way of conceiving things, I say that God can∣not employ more Will than is necessary to the executing his Designs, and therefore Acts always by the simplest ways with reference to them.

However I deny not, but it's possible for God to have a great number of ways equally simple for the producing the same effects, or that He may produce them by different means: But this I say, that He always brings them to pass, by the ways that are most simple, provided they be all of the same kind; it being a Contradiction that an Infinitely Wise Being, should have useless or disorder∣ly Wills.

Now if we bring home this Principle to Morality, we shall see that those ensure their Salvation, who so prepare themselves for Grace, by Self-denial and Repentance, and an exact Obedience to the Precepts of our LORD, as that God Acting by the simplest ways, that is, in giving them but little additional Grace, may Operate much in them. For though God would have all Men saved, yet he shall save none but those that can be sav'd by the most simple means, which have reference to his great design of Sanctifying through JESUS CHRIST, a determinate number of Elect unto his Glory; and he will multiply the Children of Eve, till that number be fulfill'd. For God's design of Sanctifying us by the simplest ways, made it necessary for him, after the Sin, to multiply the Children of Men, that he might fill up the number of the Elect; since there are a great many Persons who Damn themselves, by with-drawing from the Order of God.

But whereas God does not Work like a Particular Cause, we ought not to imagine that He has, like us, particular Volitions for every thing He produces: For if it were so, it seems evident to me, That the Generation of Monsters would be impossible, and it would never happen that one of God's Works should destroy another. And since God cannot have contrary Wills, we must have had recourse with the Manichees, to a Principle of Evil, to freeze, for Example, the Fruits which God made to grow: Which being so, there is, methinks, a necessity to conclude the establishment of some General Laws, by which God Predestines and Sanctifies his Elect in JESUS CHRIST; which Laws are what we call the Order of Grace, as God's General Wills, whereby he produces, and preserves all things in the World, are the Order of Nature.

I know not but I may be mistaken, yet I doubt not but from this Principle might be directly drawn a great many Consequences, which might resove those difficulties that have been the Con∣troverted Subjects of several Years. But I do not think my self oblig'd to deduce them; let every one do it according to his Light and Abilities; 'tis more to the purpose to say nothing, than to say such things as are unnecessary to be known, and which, it may be, would be easier agreed to some time hereafter than at present. Only this I would have well understood, That the simplest ways to our Sanctification are Self-denial and Repentance; or at least that it be well consider'd, that since JESUS CHRIST distinctly knows the Laws of the Order of Grace, we run con∣tinual dangers, in not following the ways he has mark'd us out, not only by his Words, but all the Actions of his Life.

Yet since we meet with such particular Occurrences in the course of Life, as make us dubious which way to determine, because of the contrary Reasons that may be brought for and against certain Opinions; it will perhaps be time well spent to show here, by some particular Exam∣ple, that much use may be made of the fore-going Principle, viz. That God Acts always by the simplest ways.

Let us suppose, for instance, that I desir'd to be resolv'd, whether I ought every day to set apart some Constant Times for Retiring into my self, for setting my own Weakness and Miseries before me, and for considering my Obligations in the presence of God, and praying for his Assistance, in Conquering my Passions; or on the other hand, whether I ought to wait for the Spirit of God, which blows where, and when it pleases, to call me from my self, and my Ordinary Employments, to apply me unto Him. For probable Reasons may be given both for and against each of these Opinions; and Men frequently take up with probability on such Occasions, which is the Reason that Religious Persons follow sometimes a quite different Conduct, and not always that which is the safest.

I consider then, That if I stay for the particular Motions of the Spirit of God, I shall never pray unless I receive particular Illuminations, or preventing Delights for that intent. Now these Illumina∣tions or Delectations, being produc'd of God by Wills more particular than are those General Wills, which constitute the Order of Nature, are sorts of Miracles. Therefore to rely upon God's Graces, which are not always necessary, is to suppose that He induces me to pray by means that are not the most simple, and in some measure to tempt God,

But if I use my self to a Custom of appearing, or endeavouring to appear in the presence of God at particular Hours, the sound of the Clock will suffice to remind me of my Duty, and there is no need that God should by a particular will inspire me with the Thoughts of Prayer. The General Laws of Union of my Body and Soul, will make me think of my Duty, when the time I have ap∣pointed for it, by some sensible Notice makes it self remarkable.

But as Self-Examination and Prayer are necessary, and as we cannot pray without having at least the Thoughts of it; and as we cannot have the Thoughts of it, unless God gives them, it is some advance to Salvation to have these Thoughts without obliging God to give them us by particular Wills, or kinds of Miracles. It is possibly the want of this first Thought of praying and considering their Obligation before God, which is the Origine of the Blindness and Delusion of many Men, and consequently of their Eternal Damnation. For God Acting always by the simplest means, ought not by particular Wills to give them those Thoughts which they might have obtain'd by vertue of his general Wills, if they had once accustom'd themselves, to pray regularly at particular Hours. Therefore, as God Wills the Saving all Men by the simplest ways, it is evident we ought, as much as possible, to make the Order of Nature subservient to that of Grace, and to reconcile, as I may say, God's Wills together, by regulating a time which may supply us at least with the Thoughts of Prayer.

For these Reasons, probably, God Commanded, heretofore, the Jews to write His Command∣ments upon the Doors of their Houses, and constantly to carry some sensible Marks that might put them in Mind of them; which remitted God his particular Will, if I may so speak, of inspiring them with these Thoughts. For Miracles of Grace were extremely rare among the Jews, the time being not yet fullfill'd when God was to engrave his Law, and infuse his Spirit, and his Charity in the heart of Men.

I acknowledge that all things we can do, by meer Natural strength, are insufficient to fit us me∣ritoriously for Grace, without which all the exteriour show of Religion can but feed and cherish our Pride and Self-Love. The Pharisees were Vain-Glorious upon their carrying the sensible signs and me∣moratives of the Law of God, as our Saviour reproves them; and Christians often make use of Crosses and Images, out of Curiosity, of Hypocrisie, or some other Motive of Self-Love: Yet, since these things may put us in Mind of God, they may be to good purpose imploy'd; because we ought to make Nature, as far as possible, instrumental to Grace, that God may serve us by the simplest ways.

For though we cannot naturally fit and dispose our selves for Grace, yet we may often contri∣bute to make it effectual, in as much as we can curb the eagerness of a Passion, by removing from the Objects that cause it, or by urging contrary Reasons to those of its Suggestion. Those who Watch more carefully than others over the purity of their Imagination, or give not so much way to be corrupted by the continual enjoyment of sensible Pleasures, and Wordly Commerce, make Grace efficacious, by taking away that impediment and resistance which it finds in others. In which sense a Disease, a shower of Rain, or any other accident, that keeps us at home, may render Grace Efficacious: For such a degree of Grace as would have been too weak and ineffectual for our resisting the sensible impression of a present and agreeable Object, is strong enough to make us reject and detest the impure Thought, or Imagination of the same Object.

This is all we need to say to make it manifest, That the Counsels of the Gospel are necessary, in Order to God's Saving us by the simplest means. For 'tis advantageous to follow them, not only because when we follow them by the Motion of God's Spirit, they determine it by vertue of im∣mutable Order, or of the General Laws of the Order of Grace, to increase in us our Love of Him; but also, because the practising these Counsels, may frequently render Grace Efficacious, though Self-Love be the Motive, as it may be, on many Occasions.

FINIS.

THE DEFENCE OF THE AUTHOR OF THE TREATISE Concerning the Search after Truth, Against the Accusation of Monsieur de la VILLE.

In which is shewn, That if Particular Persons be allow'd to call in Question the FAITH of others, upon Consequences well or ill drawn from their Principles, no Man could be secure from the Imputation of Heresie.

SOME time ago came forth a Treatise, whose very Title scar'd a great many, and raised much Commotion in their Minds. Many Persons wish'd I would engage in the Quarrel, which the Author made with the Cartesians. For as, on one hand, Monsieur de la Ville, that was his Name, had done me the Honour to list me among these Philosophers, with what Design I know not; and, on the other hand, found himself Diversion, by turning me into Ridicule, they assur'd me, that if I was willing to pass for a Rash, Foolish and Extravagant Person, for a Visionist, and, in fine, an Heretick, yet I could not in Conscience desert the Cause of Truth, and leave the Enemies of our Faith, the Advantages he gave them.

I must do these Gentlemen Justice, in confessing their Reasons were very solid: But beg they would believe, that if I have not submitted to them, 'tis because, there were others of a very dif∣ferent Opinion; which to me seem'd likewise highly reasonable, and for which indeed I had greater Inclination; for I will not determine about the Weightiness of their Reasons. Besides, as Mon∣sieur de la Ville is not very tender of Integrity, I foresaw that his Work would make a greater Flash and Report, than it would do Injury to Truth. And as to my own Particular, I did not think he injur'd me by despising me: For, I can assure him, I despise my self much more than he desires. 'Tis true my Self-Contempt is not grounded on the same Ideas, as induc'd him to treat me so fastuously, as he does. But I would grant that the Reasons I had for despising my self, were not true; and would willingly consent, that all my ill Qualities were converted into those he's pleas'd to give me, provided he'll except that one of Heretick, or of a Person whose Faith deserves to be suspected.

Since I know that 'tis of most dangerous Consequence, to stir up the Passions of Men, especi∣ally on such Subjects as seem to cover from the Reproofs of Reason, the most violent and irrational: I thought my self oblig'd to continue silent, for fear of supplying with fresh Fewel those Heats I perceiv'd in their Minds. But now that this Fervency is abated, and that I cannot see any more mischievous Events to be fear'd: I think I am bound to satisfy my Friends, and content my self. I am not willing to affect an insolent and contemptuous Silence, in Regard to Monsieur de la Ville. I sincerely confess, he has sensibly offended me: For I am neither Stoick, nor Stupid; I feel when I hurt, and am not asham'd to own it. The publick Accusation of Heresie is not easie to be born, especi∣ally by Ecclesiasticks: Which though never so unjust, fails not to make the Faith of the accused suspect∣ed,

in this Age, more than any other: And no Man may be prodigal of this sort of Reputation, unless Charity oblige him to it, which seldom or never happens.

I have nothing, then, to answer to the Calumnies, where with this Author tries to blacken me. I shall not bring him before the Common Magistrate, to have publick Reparation made me; nor will I use any other ways permitted by Natural Law, for the Restitution of that which I can in Conscience give up. I am all that he will have me, a Fool, a Visionist, only I am no Heretick; nor am I suspected of Heresie at least by those that know me. But, I confess, I cannot avoid having my Faith suspected, if a Stranger may be allowed to brand me with the Name of Heretick, for Conse∣quences he is pleas'd to draw from my Principles; for 'tis not possible but Monsieur de la Ville's Book must have deceiv'd some one or other. If at present I am suspected of Heresie, 'tis a Misfortune I cannot help.

But if it be a Crime, 'tis not I that have committed it, but rather he that draws consequences from a Principle not including them. For my part I disown these consequences: I believe them false, and Heretical; and if I clearly saw they were directly inferr'd from any one of my Principles, I would forsake it: For that Principle would be false, Truths being not contrary to one another.

But be it granted that Monsieur de la Ville's Reasonings were just, and that Heretical Consequences were perfectly well deduc'd from their Principle; yet neither I, nor many others, that he ill-uses, saw before he wrote his Book, that they were contain'd in it. So that his Conduct is indefensible, which way soever we examine it. For in fine the Articles of Faith depend not on the Quickness and Reach of thought of any Particular Divine, as I indeavour to show; and though we should be certain that some principles included impious Consequences, yet no Man has right to treat the Main∣tainers of these principles as Hereticks.

I have seen in the Fathers, and chiefly in St. Austin, the * 1.176 principle I have advanc'd, but never observ'd Monsieur de la Ville's there. To me it appear'd a common Notion, that if God had Anni∣hilated all the extension in the World, all the matter, the World is made up of, would be Annihilated. I had consulted several Persons about it, to know whether they had the same Idea as my self of the matter, whose answers confirm'd me in my Opinion. I concluded, for the Reasons I shall give anon, that we could no longer have any direct and Natural Demonstration, that the Soul is distin∣guish'd from the Body, or that she is Immortal, if that principle be laid aside. I said in the Search after Truth that I did not believe any consequence could be inferr'd from this principle repugnant to Faith, which same thing was defended in the Sorbon, before my maintaining it, in the publick Theses. Nay, I proceeded to say, That if it were requisite, I would explain how this Opinion might be reconcil'd with what the Fathers, and Councils have left us touching our Faith, about the mystery of Tran∣substantiation. Lastly, I renounc'd all Heretical Consequences, and even the Principle, if it con∣tain'd them, which I could not believe, nor can I to this hour.

What ought I to say more, to clear my Faith from the suspicion of Heresie, even to the malicious? Could I imagine any Man would have the boldness to rank St. Austin, and other Fathers, among the Calvinists, by condemning in the Person of the Cartesians and Gassendists, the Sentiment of that Holy Doctor, as contrary to Transubstantiation? No, doubtless. For either Monsieur de la Ville durst do it, save in a collateral manner. St. Austian in an hundred places advances as undeniable, the principle now in dispute. He never goes to prove it, because it does not appear that any Man in his time doubted of it. For indeed 'tis a principle that ought to be look'd on as a common Notion with all those, whose mind is not prepossess'd with false studies. Whence this Father concludes, That the Soul is immortal; That she is more noble than the Body; That she is a distinct substance from it; with many other like Truths of the utmost importance. And yet Monsieur de la Ville, under Ambiguous Terms,* 1.177 advances that this Principle is not to be found in St. Austin: He answers but one single passage of that Father's Works, and to explain it, makes that learn'd Man argue at an Extra∣vagant rate. Lastly, he opposes to his constant Doctrine, only the Book of Categories, as if he knew not that Book to be none of St. Austin's, and that it belongs rather to Logick, than to Physicks.

I will not stand to prove this in particular; for I see no necessity of answering Monsieur de la Ville's Book: And I design to keep inviolably to the resolution I made, and have declar'd at the end of the Preface to the Second Vol. of the Search after Truth, viz. That I would answer none of those who oppos'd me before they understand me, or whose Discourses gave occasion to believe, they were made from some other motive than the Love of Truth. As for the rest, I shall indeavour to content them. I have no delight in disquieting Mens Minds, and troubling my own repose by contentious Books, or Works absolutely useless to the discovery of Truth; and only proper to violate Charity, and scandalize our Neighbours. And if I now put Pen to Paper, 'tis because I ought not to suffer my Faith to be call'd in Question, and that I desire to make it clearly understood, That no Man is permitted to charge me with Heresie for consequences deducible from the Principles I have establish'd.

Which is not as if I thought it possible to inferr directly, any Heresie, or even Error from the Book concerning the Search after Truth. I am ready to answer with Charity and Respect, all those who shall do me the honour to make their Animadversions without Passion; and I shall always be glad to follow Truth, as soon as any Man can discover it to me. I disown all principles from which may be concluded any falshood. But I offer to prove, That we cannot justly treat as Here∣ticks, even obstinate Defenders of such Principles, as Divines may inferr impious Conclusions from, (provided the Embracers of these Principles disown the consequences:) Since, if it might be allow'd, no Writer whatever could escape the Imputation of Heresie. My proofs of my assertion are as fol∣low:

Which I do not deduce from that which is least Reasonable in the common Opinions of Phi∣sophers, with design to make them Odious, or Ridiculous; but choose to take for the subject of what I offer to prove, universally receiv'd Opinions, upon which the Peripateticks are so bold and presuming, as to insult perpetually over their Adversaries.

ARGUMENT I.

The Peripateticks, and almost all Men, believe that Beasts have Souls, and that these Souls are nobler than the Bodies which they Animate. 'Tis an Opinion receiv'd in all times, and in all Na∣tions, that a Dog suffers Pain when he is beaten; That he is susceptible of all the Motions of the Passions, Fear, Desire, Envy, Hatred, Joy, Sorrow, and even that he knows and loves his Master. Yet from this Opinion consequences may be drawn directly opposite to what we are Taught by Faith.

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

Beasts suffer Pain, and some of them are more miserable than others. Now they never sinn'd, or made an ill use of their Libirty, since they have none: Therefore God's Vnjust, in Punishing them, and making them Miserable; and unequally Miserable, since they are equally Innocent. There∣fore this Principle is false, That under a Righteous God, a Creature can be miserable without deserving it, a Principle nevertheless imploy'd by St. Austin, to Demonstrate Original Sin against the Pelagians.

Moreover there is this difference between the condition of Men and Beasts, that Men after Death may receive an Happiness which may countervail the Pains endur'd in Life. But Beasts at Death lose all; they have been miserable, and innocent, and have no Future Retribution. There∣fore, though God be Just, yet Man may suffer in Order to Merit; but if a Beast suffers, God is not Just.

It may be said, perhaps, that God may do with the Beast as he thinks fit, provided he observes the Rules of Justice, with respect to Man. But if an Angel should think in like manner, that God could not punish him without some Demerits; and that he was not oblig'd to do justice unto Man, should we like that thought? Certainly God renders Justice to all his Creatures; and if the mean∣est of them are liable to Misery, they must needs be capable of being Criminal.

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

The Soul of a Dog is substance more noble than the Body Animated by it. For according to St. Austin * 1.178, 'tis a spiritual Substance more noble than the noblest Body. Besides which, reason demon∣strates that Bodies can neither Know, nor Love; and that Pleasure, Pain, Joy, Sorrow, and the other Passions, cannot be Modifications of Bodies. Now 'tis believed that Dogs know, and Love their Masters, and that they are susceptible of Passions, as of Fear, Desire, Joy and Sorrow, and many others: The Soul of a Dog therefore is not a Body, but a Substance nobler than Bodies. But the Soul of a Dog is made for his Body, and has no other End, or Felicity, than the enjoyment of Bodies: Therefore God makes the more noble for the less noble: Therefore God Wills disorder: Therefore Man's Nature is not corrupted: Concupiscence is no disorder. God might make Man for the enjoyment of Bodies, and subject him to the Motions of Concupiscence, &c.

It may be still said perhaps that the Soul of Beasts is made for Man: but 'tis hard to escape by this subterfuge. For whether my Dog, or my Horse, has, or has not a Soul, is indifferent to me. 'Tis not my Horse's Soul, which carries, or draws me, but his Body. 'Tis not the Soul of a Chicken which nourishes me, but its flesh. Now God might, and ought consequently to create Horses, to perform all their functions which we need, without a Soul, if it be true that he has made them only for our use. Again, the Soul of an Horse is more valuable than the noblest Body: God therefore ought not to create it for the Body of Man. Lastly, God ought not to have given Souls to Flies which Swallows feed upon. Swallows are of very little use to Man, and they might have fed upon grain, as other Birds.

What need then of so innumerable a number of Souls to be Annihilated, to preserve the Bodies of these Birds, since the Soul of a Fly is more worth than the Body of the perfectest Animal? Wherefore in affirming that Beasts have Souls, that is to say, substances, more noble than Bodies, we deprive God of Wisdom, make him act without Order, destroy Original Sin, and consequently overthrow Religion, by taking away the necessity of a Mediator.

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

The Soul of a Beast is a Substance distinct from its Body. This Soul is Annihilated, and there∣fore Substances may naturally be Annihilated. Therefore though the Soul of Man be a Substance distinct from his Body, it may be Annihilated, when the Body is destroyed: And thus the Immor∣tality of the Humane Soul cannot be Demonstrated by Reason. But if it be own'd to be most cer∣tain, That no Substance can be naturally reduc'd to nothing, the Soul of Beasts will subsist after Death; and since they have no reward to hope for, and are made for Bodies, they must at least pass out of one to another, that they may not remain useless in Nature: Which seems to be the most reasonable Inference,

Now 'tis Matter of Faith, That God is just and Wise, That he Loves not Disorder, That Na∣ture is corrupted, That the Soul of Man is Immortal and that That of Beasts is Mortal: Be∣cause indeed it is not a distinct Substance from their Body, nor consequently capable of Knowledge and Love, or of any Passions and Sensations like ours. Therefore in the Stile of Monsieur de la Ville, who condemns Men upon Consequences that he draws from their Principles, the Cartesians may justly charge him with a Crime, and all Mindkind besides, for believing Beasts have Souls.

What would Monsieur de la Ville say, if in his way of proceeding we should tax him of Impiety, for entertaining Opinions, from whence it might be concluded, That God is not Just, Wise, or Powerful; Opinions that overthrow Religion, that are opposite to Original Sin, that take away the only Demonstration Reason can give of the Immortality of the Soul? What would he say, if we should charge him with Injustice and Cruelty for making innocent Souls to suffer, and even for Annihilating them, to feed upon the Bodies which they Animate? He is a Sinner, but they are Innocent; and yet for the Nourishment of his Body he kills Animals, and Annihilates their Souls, which are of greater Worth than his Body. Yet if his Body could not subsist without the Flesh of Animals, or if the Annihilation of a Soul should render his Body for ever Immortal; this Cruelty, as unjust as it is, might perhaps be excusable: But with what Pretence can he Anni∣hilate Substances altogether innocent, to sustain but a few days a Body justly condemn'd to Death because of Sin,

Would he be so little a Philosopher, as to excuse himself upon the Custom of the Place he lives in? But what if his Zeal should carry him into the Indies, where the Inhabitants found Hospitals for Beasts; and the Philosophers, and the better and more gentile Part of them, are so charitable to to the smallest Flies,* 1.179 that, for fear of killing them, by Breathing, and Walking, they wear a fine Cloath before their Mouths, and fan the Ways through which they pass? Would he then fear to make innocent Souls to suffer, or to Annihilate them for the Preservation of a Sinner's Body? Would he not rather chuse to subscribe to their Opinion, who give not Beasts a Soul more Noble than their Body, or distinct from it; and by publishing this Opinion acquit himself of the Crimes of Cruelty and Injustice, which these People would charge upon him; if having the same Principles he follow'd not their Custom?

This Example may suffice to shew, that we are not permitted to treat Men as Hereticks, and dangerous Persons, because of Irreligious Consequences that may be deduc'd from their Princi∣ples, when these Consequences are disown'd by them. For though I think it would be an infinitely harder Task, to answer the aforesaid Difficulties, than those of M. de la Ville's, yet the Cartesians would be very Ridiculous, if they should accuse Monsieur de la Ville, and others, that were not of their Opinion, of Impiety and Heresie. 'Tis only the Authority of the Church, that may decide about Matters of Faith; and the Church has not oblig'd us, and probably whatever Consequence may be drawn from common Principles, never will oblige us to believe, that Dogs have not a Soul more Noble than their Body, that they know not their Masters; that they neither fear, nor desire, nor suffer any thing, because it is not necessary that Christians should be instructed in these Truths.

ARGUMENT II.

Almost all Men are perswaded, That sensible Objects are the true Causes of Pleasure, and Pain, which we feel, upon their Presence. They believe, that the Fire sends forth that agreeable Heat which rejoyces us; and that our Aliments Act in us, and give us the Welcome Sensations of Tasts. They doubt not but 'tis the Sun which makes the Fruits necessary for Life, to thrive; and that all sensible Objects have a peculiar Vertue, by which they can do us a great deal of Good and Evil. Let us see, if from these Principles we cannot draw Consequences contrary to Religion and Points of Faith.

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

'Tis a common Notion, by which all Men Order their Behaviour, That we ought to love, and fear what has Power to do us Good and Harm, to make us feel Pleasure and Pain, to render us hap∣py or miserable; and that this Cause is to be lov'd▪ or fear'd, proportionably to its Power of Act∣ing on us. But the Fire, the Sun, the Objects of our Senses, can truly Act on us, and make us in some manner happy or miserable. This is the Principle suppos'd; we may therefore Love and Fear them. This is the Conclusion which every one naturally makes, and is the general Principle of the corrup∣tion of Manners.

'Tis evident by Reason, and by the First of God's Commandments, That all the motions of our Soul, of Love or Fear, Desire or Joy, ought to tend to God; and that all the Motions of our Body may be Regulated and Determin'd, by encompassing Objects. By the Motion of our Body we may approach a Fruit, avoid a Blow, fly a Beast that's ready to devour us. But we ought to Love and Fear none but God; all the Motions of our Soul ought to tend to Him only; we are to Love Him with all our strength; this is an indispensible Law. We can neither Love or Fear what is be∣low us, without disorder and corruption: Freely to fear a Beast ready to devour us, or to fear the Devil, is to give them some honour; to Love a Fruit, to desire Riches, to rejoyce in the light of the Sun, as if he were the true cause of it; to Love even our Father, our Protector, our Friend, as if they were capable of doing us good, is to pay them an Honour which is due to none but God, in which sense it is lawful to Love none. But we may, and ought to Love our Neighbour, by wis••∣ing and procuring him, as Natural or Occasional Cause, all that may make him happy, and no o∣therwise. For we to Love our Brothers, not as if able to do us good, but as capable to enjoy to∣gether with us the true Good. These Truths seem evident to me; but Men strangely obscure them, by supposing that the surrounding Bodies can Act on us as True Causes.

Indeed, most Christian Philosophers acknowledge, That the Creatures can do nothing, unless God concur to their Action; and that so, sensible Objects being unable to Act on us without the Efficacy of the First Cause, must not be lov'd or fear'd by us, but God only, on whom they depend.

Which Explication makes it manifest, That they condemn the consequences, which I have now deduc'd from the Principle they receive: But if in imitation of Monsieur de la Ville's Conduct, I should say 'twas a slight and subterfuge of the Philosophers, to Cloak their Impiety▪ if I should urge them with the Crime of supporting Aristotle's Opinions, and the prejudices of Sense, at the expence of their Religion; if piercing too into the inmost recesses of their Heart, I should impute to them the secret desire, of debauching Men's Morals by the defence of a Principle, which serves to justifie all sorts of disorders, and which by the consequences I have drawn from it, overthrows the first Principle of Christian Morality. Should I be thought in my Senses whilst I went to con∣demn most Men as impious upon the strength of the inferences I had deduc'd from their Premises?

Monsieur de la Ville will no doubt pretend that my Consequences are not rightly inferr'd; but I pretend the same of his; and to ruine them all, I need but explicate some Equivocal Terms, which I shall sometime do, if I find it necessary.

But how will Monsieur de la Ville justifie the common Opinion of the Efficacy of Second Causes, and by what sort of concourse will he ascribe to God all that is due to Him? Will he make it clearly appear, that one individual Action is all of God, and all of the Creature? Will he demonstrate that the Power of the Creature is not useless, though without its Efficacy, the sole Action of God would produce the same effect? Will he prove that Minds neither ought to Love nor Fear Bodies, though the latter have a true Power of Acting on the former; and will he make multitudes of Converts hereupon, among those whose Mind and Heart are taken up with sensible Objects, from a confus'd Judgment they make that these Objects are capable of making them Happy or Miserable? Let him confess then, That if we might treat as Hereticks, and profane Persons, all that hold Principles, from which Heretical and Impious Consequences may be drawn, no Man what ever could secure his Faith from being suspected.

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

When this truth is receiv'd, which I presume, with many other Persons, to have demonstrated; which Monsieur de la Ville impugns as contrary to the decisions of the Church, viz. That the Es∣sence

of matter consists in Extension in Length, Breadth, and Thickness. It is easie to comprehend that the Soul, or that which is capable of Thought, is a distinct substance from the Body. For it's manifest that Extension, whatever Division and Motion be conceiv'd in it, can never arrive to Rea∣son, Will or Sense. Wherefore that thinking thing which is in us, is necessarily a substance distinct from our Body.

Intellectual Notices, Volitions, and Actual Sensations, are Actually Modes of some substances Ex∣istence. But all the Divisions incidental to Extension can produce nothing but Figures: Nor all its various Motions, any thing but Relations of Distance: Therefore Extension is not capable of other Modifications. Therefore our Thought, Desire, Sensations of Pleasure, and Pain, are Modes of a Substances Existence, which is not a Body. Therefore the Soul is distinct from the Body, which being conceded, we thus demonstrate her Immortality.

No substance can be Annihilated by the Ordinary strength of Nature. For as nature cannot pro∣duce something out of nothing: So she cannot reduce something into nothing. Modifications of Beings may be Annihilated; Rotundity of a Body may be destroy'd; for that which is round may become square. But this roundness is not a Being, a Thing, a Substance; but only a Relation of E∣quality of distance, between the terminating parts of the Body, and that which is in the Center. Which relation changing, the Roundness is destroy'd, but the substance cannot be reduc'd to no∣thing. Now for the foremention'd Reasons the Soul is not a Mode of a Body's Existing. There∣fore she is immortal; and though the Body be dissolv'd into a Thousand parts of a different Na∣ture, and the structure of its Organs broke to pieces, since the Soul consists not in that structure, nor in any other Modification of matter, 'tis evident that the dissolution, and even the Annihilati∣on of the substance of an humane Body, were that Annihilation true, could not Annihilate the substance of our Soul. Let us add to this another proof of the immortality of the Soul, grounded upon the same Principle.

Though the Body cannot be reduc'd to nothing, because it is a substance, it may notwithstand∣ing die, and all its parts may be dissolv'd: Because Extension is divisible. But the Soul being a sub∣stance distinct from Extension, cannot be divided. For we cannot divide a Thought, a Desire, a Sensation of Pain, or Pleasure, as we may divide a square into two or four Triangles. Therefore the substance of the Soul is indissoluble, incorruptible, and consequently immortal, because unextended.

But if Monsieur de la Ville supposes that the Essence of Body consists in something besides Exten∣sion, how will he convince the Libertines that she is neither material nor mortal. They will main∣tain, that something wherein the Essence of Body consists, is capable of thinking, and that the sub∣stance which thinks is the same with that which is extended. If Monsieur de la Ville denies it, they'll show that he does it, without Reason, since according to his Principle, Body being something else than Extension; he has no distinct Idea of what that can be, and consequently cannot tell but that un∣known thing may be capable of Thought. Does he think to convince them, by saying as he does in his Book, that the Essence of Body is to have Parts without Extension? Certainly they will not take his Word for it; for finding it as hard to conceive parts without Extension, as indivisible Atoms, or Circles, without two Semi-circles, they must have more deference for him, than he has for God himself. For Monsieur de la Ville, in the last part of his Book, pretends that God him∣self cannot oblige us to belive contradictory things, such as are the Parts of a Body, without any Actual extension.

But the Libertines on their part would not fail of probable Reasons to confound the Soul with the Body. Experience, they'll say, teaches us, That the Body is capable of Feeling, Thinking, and Reasoning. 'Tis the Body which is sensible of Pleasure, and Pain. 'Tis the Brain which thinks and reasons. The weight of the Body makes heavy the Mind. Madness is a true distemper; and those who have most Wisdom lose it, when that part of the Brain, where it resides, is diseas'd. The Essences of Beings are unknown to us, and therefore Reason cannot discover of what they are susceptible. So that reason refers us to Experience, and Experience confounds the Soul with the Body, and teaches us, that this is capable of thinking: Such would be their Reasons.

And in Truth those who assure us, That the Essences of Being are unknown; and make it Cri∣minal for Philosophers to demonstrate Extension no Modification of Being, but the very Essence of Matter; would do well to consider the mischievous Consequences, deducible from their Principles; and not go to overthrow the only Demonstration we have, for the Distinction between the Soul and Body. For, in fine, the Distinction of these two Parts of our Selves, prov'd by clear Ideas, is the most Fruitful and necessary of all Truths in point of Philosophy, and perhaps of Divinity, and Chri∣stian Morality. But this Distinction is likewise exactly demonstrated in many Places of the Search after Truth * 1.180. And I undertake to Monsieur de la Ville, notwithstanding his Answer fraught with Ambiguities, Figures, and Contradictions; or rather, I undertake to the Libertines, for as for him, I believe him so setled in his Faith, as not to want such sort of Proofs. I undertake, I say to the Libertines, That they will never find any Sophism in my Demonstration, That 'tis impossible to conceive it clearly and distinctly, without embracing it; and that all the Proofs they offer, to confound the Soul with the Body, are drawn from Senses; that they are obscure and confus'd, and can never perswade such as Judge of things by clear and distinct Ideas.

From this Principal, That the Essence of Body consists not in Extension, and that the Essences of things are unknown; I could still draw many other Consequences opposite to Faith: But that is not necessary; and I would rather, if it were possible, reconcile all false as well as true Philosophies with Religion. However impious and Heretical would be the Consequences I could deduce from

the Opinions of Philosophers, I should think I wanted the Charity which I owe them, if I endea∣voured to make their Faith suspected. So far am I from imitating the Conduct of Monsieur de la Ville, who leaving a Principle demonstrated in all its Strength, and receiv'd by all Ages, lays out himself in drawing Heretical Consequences from it; tho' of no use but to strengthen the Calvinists, and encrease their Number, and to disturb the Faith of the Orthodox: I would, on the contrary, that no one should think on these Consequences; or disown them as false, and wrong-inferr'd from the Principal.

All Truths hang in a Chain together; and no false Principle can be held, but those who are any thing vers'd in the Art of Reasoning, may infer from it abundance of Consequences repugnant to Religion. So that if it were permitted to blacken the Faith of others, upon Consequences drawn from Principles believ'd by them, since there is no Man but Errs in something, we might treat all the World, as Heretical. Wherefore the allowing Men to Dogmatize, and to make others Faith suspected, who are not of their Opinion, would be opening a Gap to infinite Quarrels, Schisms, Disturbances, and even Civil Wars; and all Mankind is concern'd to look upon the Abettors of such a Conduct, as Slanderers and Disturbers of the publick Peace. For, in short, the different Parties in Religion, which are almost always form'd from such like Consequences, produce strange Events in a State; which all Histories abound with. But the Liberty to Philosophize, or to reason upon Common Notions, is not to be denied Men; it being a Right which is as natural to them as to breath. Divines ought to distinguish Theology from Philosophy, Articles of our Faith from Opinions of Men. Truths, which GOD imparts to all Christians by a visible Authority, from those which he bestows on some particular Persons, in Recompence of their Attention and Industry. They should not confound things that depend on so different Principles. No Question Humane Sciences ought to be made subservient to Religion; but with a Spirit of Peace and Charity; without condemning one another, so long as we agree about Truths which the Church has determin'd: For this is the way for Truth to shine out, and all Sciences to be brought to greater and greater Perfection, by the Addition of New Discoveries to the Ancient.

But the Imaginations of most Men cannot be reconcil'd to New Discoveries, but even Novelty in Opinions, never so advantageous to Religion, frights them; whilst they easily inure themselves to the falsest and obscurest Principles, provided some Ancient has advanc'd them. But when once these Principles are grown familiar, they find them evident, though never so obscure: They believe them most useful, though extremely dangerous; And they are so well us'd to say and hear what they do not conceive, and to slurr a real Difficulty by an imaginary Distinction, that they are ever well satisfy'd with their false Idea's, and can't endure to be talkt to in a clear and distinct Lan∣guage; like Men coming out of a dark Room, they are fearful of the Light, which strikes too violently on their Eyes, and they imagine we go to blind them, when we try to dissipate the invol∣ving Darkness.

Thus though I have shown by many Consequences, that 'tis dangerous, for Example, to main∣tain that Beasts have a Soul more noble than the Body; yet since this Opinion is ancient, and most Men are accustom'd to Believe it, whilst the contrary bears the Character of Novelty; Those who judge of the Harshness of Opinions rather by the Fear they produce in the Imagination, than by the Evidence and Light they shed in the Mind, will be sure to vote the Cartesians Opinion danger∣ous; and will condemn these Philosophers, as rash and presumptuous, rather than those who make Beasts capable of Reasoning.

Let a Man but say in Company, with an Air of Gravity, or rather with a Look, into which the Imagination, scar'd with something extraordinary, forms the Face: Really the Cartesians are strange People; They maintain, That Beasts have no Soul. I am afraid in a little time they will say as much of Man: And this will be enough to perswade a great many, that this is a dangerous Opinion. No Reasons can prevent the Effect of this Discourse upon weak Imaginations; and unless there happen to be some brisk Wit, that with the gayety of Carriage, shall re-embolden the Company from the Fear they had conceiv'd, the Cartesians might tire themselves to Death, before they could by their Reasonings obliterate the Character that had been given of their Persons.

And yet 'tis but placing the definition instead of the thing defin'd, to shew the extravagance of this Discourse. For if a Man should say seriously, the Cartesians are strange sort of Men, they affirm, That Beasts have neither Thought nor Sense; I fear, in a short time, they will say as much of us. Certainly we should conclude this Man's apprehensions but ill-grounded. But the generality of Men are un∣able to extricate the least Ambiguity, especially when their Imagination is frighted with the No∣tion of Novelty, which some represent to them as dangerous. Besides that the Air and exteriour Manners easily persuade, but Truth is not discover'd without some application of Thought, where∣of the greatest part of Mankind is incapable.

Certainly Men that have most Light and Understanding, whose Opinions are implicitely em∣brac'd by the Vulgar, ought not to be so easie to condemn their Brethren, at least before they have examin'd their Sentiments with a serious Attention; nor ought they to possess their respectful Hearers with disadvantageous Notions of their Neighbour, this being contrary to the Rules of Charity and Justice.

But the Cartesians, you'll say, admit Principles which have mischievous Consequences; and I grant it, since you'll have it so. But they disown these Consequences: They, it may be, are so gross and stupid, as not to see these Consequences are included in their Principles. They think they can separate one from the other, and do not suppose other Philosophers are to be believ'd up∣on their bare Word: They break not their Charity with those who hold Principles which they

think big with impious Consequences, and as contrary to Religion, as sound Sense. For it may be concluded from the dangerous Consequences I have drawn from those very Principles, which flush the Peripateticks even to the triumphing over their Adversaries; How many, and how much worse than these I might infer, if I should give my self liberty to choose out of the Body of their Philoso∣phy that which was most exceptionable? But whatever the advantage is in Theological Disputes, as well as in Field-Battles, to be the Aggressors; I had rather defend my self weakly, than con∣quer and triumph by assaulting. For, in short, I do not conceive how Men delight in making He∣reticks, and prophane Persons of those who submit to all••the decisions of the Church, upon Conse∣quences which they disavow. The Victory methinks is very fatal, which spills but the Blood of our own Country-Men.

Nevertheless, I do not believe I have advanc'd in the Search after Truth, any Principle of Philo∣sophy productive of dangerous Consequences; on the contrary, I have left M. des Cartes in some places, and Aristotle almost in all; because I could not reconcile the Former with Truth, nor the Latter with Truth or Religion; this I leave to Men of more Wit and Invention than my self. I said that the Essence of Matter consisted in Extension, because I thought I had, evidently, demonstrated it, and thereby given clear and uncontroverted proofs of the Immortality of the Soul, and her distinction from the Body: A Truth which is essential to Religion, and which the Philosophers are * 1.181 oblig'd by the last Lateran Council to prove. But I never thought this Principle so fecund with Truths advantageous to Religion, was contrary to the Council of Trent: Monsieur de la Ville ought not to affirm it, for that will do but mischief. This is the Conduct of the Protestants in Holland, * 1.182 Vitichius, † 1.183 Poiret, and several others. I say not this to make his Faith suspected, but I am under strong apprehensions, least his Conduct may give them occasion to affirm, That we own in France a Man cannot be a Catholick without believing that the parts of a Body may be without any Actual Extension, since a Book Dedicated to the Bishops, publish'd with all the Ceremonies, with Approbation and Privilege, treats the Cartesians as Hereticks on that particular: I fear, least by his probabilities, he may shake the Faith of several Persons, who know not precisely what is ne∣cessary to make an Article of Faith. But I am still more apprehensive least the Libertines should strengthen themselves in their Opinions, That the Soul is Corporeal, and consequently Mortal; That a thinking Substance is the same with an extended One, because Extension with them, and Monsieur de la Ville, being but the Mode of a Being, whose Essence is unknown to us, we have no Argument from Reason, that this Being is not capable of Thinking; and we have many Argu∣ments from Sense which, though never so false, are yet convincing, and even Demonstrative with those who will not be at the pains of Reasoning.

And upon these grounds I think I am oblig'd to affirm, with all the confidence afforded me by the view of the Truth I have Demonstrated That Extension is not a Mode of Being; but a Being, a Thing, a Substance, in a Word, Matter or Body, and that many Answers are to be seen in the Search after Truth, to those proofs of Sense by which the Libertines confound the two Substances, that Man's compos'd of. I maintain farther, That Monsieur de la Ville has not shown that Opini∣on of the Essence of Matter to be contray to Transubstantiation; that he has propos'd only those Answers which are easie to be resolv'd, That we may more easily triumph over his Adversaries: That he has not impugned mine, and probably not so much as known them, and that in the Hu∣mour I see him, I think not my self obliged to acquaint him with them; Lastly, That he has added to the Council of Trent, more Articles of Faith, or Explications, than any private Person has Right to give after express Prohibitions contain'd in the Bull, which confirms the said Council * 1.184.

As to what regards my own Particular, I desire the Reader not to believe Monsieur de la Ville, upon his Word, but to examine with Caution and Distrust, even those Matters of Fact which he vouches with the greatest Confidence. He boasts himself upon his Sincerity and Ingenuousness, and I am far from disputing him those Qualities, which are indispensable to every honest Man; but I cannot help saying in the Defence of Truth, and my own Justification, that he has often forgotten himself in his Book; of which here follows a sufficient Proof.

In the Frontispiece of his Work he has inserted an Advertisement, which has a Look of Integri∣ty; for 'tis compos'd only to make a kind of Reparation: These are his Words; He says, He met with a Copy of the Search after Truth, of the Strasbourgh-Edition, in the Year 1677. which obliges him to signifie to his dear Reader, that I have in the Impression retracted and Errour, which I had advanc'd in the First. But it is so true, that I am either little skill'd in Divinity, or very daring, that I could not recant that Errour, without advancing Two others. His whole Advertisement is only to make me a charitable Reparation.

However it is false, First, That I have retracted that pretended Errour about Original Sin: The same Proposition being found in the same Words, in the Eddition he * 1.185 cites, and in all those that are Printed at Paris.

Secondly, That Proposition is not my peculiar Opinion; since it is the common Doctrine of the Schools. But though it were not at present taught, yet 'tis certainly no Errour, much less a most pernicious one, as he elsewhere stiles it * 1.186.

The two Errours he supposes me to substitute, in the Room of this recanted one, are Two things I never said; and which he puts upon me. 'Tis but reading his own Words relating to the Question, to discover the Truth of what I say; and therefore I shall not stand to prove it; especially since 'tis done sufficiently by an unknown Hand. I could only wish this un∣known Person had alledg'd the Reasons which I had for saying, That an Infant at the time of Baptism was justified by an Actual Love, and which I have given in the Illustration upon Original Sin.

Let a Man judge then, after he has examin'd the candid and sincere Advertisement of Monsieur de la Ville, whether I have not reason to require the Equitable Readers not to credit him, on his bare Word. For if we believe him, he is the most sincere and courteous Man in the World; but we cannot find all the Marks of Sincerity and Candour, when we carefully examine him. At the End of his Advertisement, he protests, he has endeavour'd, as much as possible, to observe all the Moderation which he ought, that he has no ill Will but to the Errours of his Adversaries, and for their Persons all Esteem and Respect: Whilst yet one cannot consider that Advertisement, without discovering at least the Symptoms of a disingenuous Spirit, and a Malign Temper, which surprizes and irritates Mens Minds. I pray God to pardon him his Outrages, to Regulate his Zeal, and to inspire him with the Spirit of Meekness, Charity and Peace towards his Brethren. I know not whether he finds Pleasure in abusing me so hainously as he does; but I desire to assure him, That it is Matter of much Sorrow, and Trouble to me, That I am forc'd in the Defence of Truth, to give some Suspicion of his Probity; and that I should, on the contrary, be extreamly joyful, if he could know how sincerely I honour, respect, and love him, in Him in whom we all are Brethren. No∣verit quam eu•• non contemnam, & quantum in illo Deum timeam, & cogitem caput nostrum in cujus cor∣pore fratres sumus. Aug. ad Fortunianum, Epist. 3.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Chap. 4. E. 1.
• * 1.2

  Page 9, 10.
• * 1.3

  Page 1.
• * 1.4

  Page 10.
• * 1.5

  Page 1.
• * 1.6

  Page 20.
• * 1.7

  Page 21.
• * 1.8

  Book 1. Ch. 9. B. 3. in several places.
• * 1.9

  Page 22.
• * 1.10

  Page 9.
• * 1.11

  Page 9.
• * 1.12

  Page 6.
• * 1.13

  Page 44.
• * 1.14

  Page 47.
• * 1.15

  Page 56, 57.
• * 1.16

  Page 62.
• * 1.17

  Page 64.
• * 1.18

  Page 80.
• * 1.19

  Page 98.
• * 1.20

  Pref. Page 4.
• * 1.21

  Page 12.
• (a) 1.22

  Page 1▪ The Animad∣verter's An∣swer.
• * 1.23

  Book 1. Chap. 1. and else∣where.
• * 1.24

  Tunc beatum esse te judica cum tibi ex te gau∣dium omne nascetur; cum in his quae homines eripi∣unt, optant, custodiunt, ni∣hil inveneris, non dico quod malis, sed quod velis. Sen. Epist. 124.
• * 1.25

  Rom. 7▪23, 24▪
• * 1.26

  Before Sin, that Sensation was not a pain, but on∣ly a war∣ning; be∣cause, as I have said elsewhere, Adam might, whenever he pleased, stop the Motion of the Animal Spirits that produce Pain: So that, if he ever felt pain, 'twas because he consented to feel it; or rather he never felt any, because he never had a mind to feel it.
• * 1.27

  Heb. iv.12, 13.
• * 1.28

  See Dial. 5. of Chri∣s••ian Con∣versations, about the end.
• * 1.29

  Act. 5.41.
• * 1.30

  Amor sicut nec Odium, veritatis Judi∣cium nescit. Vis Judicium Veritatis audire? Sicut audio, sic judico: non sicut odi, non sicut amo, non sicut timeo. Est Judicium Odii, ut illud; Nos Legem habemus, & secundum legem nostram debet mori. Est & Timoris, ut illud; Si dimittimus eum sic, venient Romani, & tollent nostrum lo∣cum & gentem. Judicium verò Amoris, ut David de filio parricidâ, Parcite, inquit, pu∣ero Absalom. S. Bern. de grad. humilitatis.
• * 1.30.1

  Joan. 5.30.
• * 1.30.2

  Joan. 19.7.
• * 1.30.3

  Joan. 11.48.
• * 1.30.4

  2 Sam. 18.5.
• * 1.31

  Concil. A••gl. per Spelman. A••. 1287.
• * 1.32

  Book 2. Part 2. Chap. 3.
• * 1.33

  Lest any should mi∣stake what I call here voluntary Motion, I desire him to read the first Illustration on the first Chapter. It would intricate my Conceptio••s should I say whatever relates to it, to satisfie the Nicety of some Persons.
• * 1.34

  Joh. 11.47.
• * 1.35

  Joh. 12.11.
• * 1.36

  Act. 4.16, 17.
• * 1.37

  Act. 5.28.
• * 1.38

  Lib. I.
• † 1.39

  Lib. II.
• ‖ 1.40

  Lib. III.
• ∵ 1.41

  Lib. IV.
• * 1.42

  Lib. V.
• * 1.43

  Ego enim ab anima h••c corpus animari non pu••o, nisi intentione ••acientis: nec ab isto quicquam illam pati arbitror, sed facere de illo, & in illo, tanquam subjecto divinitus dominationi suae. l. 6. Mu••c. c. 5. See also De quantit. Anim. c. 34.
• * 1.44

  Amos 3.6.
• * 1.45

  Psal. 33▪ 9.
• * 1.46

  Haec est Religio Christiana, fratres mei, quae praedicatur per universum mundum horrentibus inimicis, & ubi vincuntur murmurantibus▪ ubi praevalent saevientibus; haec est Religio Christiana, ut COLATVR VNVS DEVS, NON MVLTI DII, QVIA NON FACIT ANIMAM BE∣ATAM NISI VNVS DEVS. Aug. Tr. 23. in Joan.
• * 1.47

  By Equa∣tor I under∣stand the greatest Crooked Line which the Matter of the Vortex describes.
• * 1.48

  That is, are driven towards the Cen∣tre of the Earth.
• * 1.49

  Princ. Part. 3. §. 45.
• * 1.50

  Sup. Ch. 4.
• * 1.51

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 make a Pun in Greek, as in English Finis and finished. Thus that Philosopher proves, that an infinite Line is not perfect, because 'tis not finished.
• * 1.52

  De Coelo, l. 3. c. 3.
• * 1.53

  L. 2. & 3. de Gene. & Corrup.
• * 1.54

  De Gener. & Corrupt▪ l. 2. c. 2.
• * 1.55

  See Book I. from ch. 11. ••o ch. 15.
• * 1.56

  See Illu∣stration X. of Book I.
• * 1.57

  Lib. 4. de Anima & ejus Origi∣ne. Cap. 23. de quanti∣tate Animae & alias.
• * 1.58

  M. Des Cartes his Principles, Art. 55. Part. II.
• * 1.59

  Art. 43. ibid.
• † 1.60

  Art. 63.
• * 1.61

  Art. 33. Part. II.
• * 1.62

  I imagine here only God, my self, and one Bowl.
• * 1.63

  By a Bo∣dy in a Va∣cuum, I un∣derstand one so se∣parate from others, whether hard or liquid, as that there is none either to aid or hinder the Communication of Motions.
• * 1.64

  Art. 5.
• * 1.65

  Art. 63.
• * 1.66

  Art. 55. & 43. of the second Part, and else∣where.
• * 1.67

  General Rules of the Commui∣cation of Motions.
• † 1.68

  See M. des Cartes's Rules in the second Part of his Prin∣ciples.
• * 1.69

  See the 6th Chap. of Book 3. and its Il∣lustration.
• * 1.70

  See the Il∣stration upon Ch. 3. Part 2. Book 6. where I ex∣plain my meaning more di∣stinctly.
• * 1.71

  See the 7th Chap. of the 3d Book▪ and the Illu∣stration upon it.
• † 1.72

  N••mo scit utrum amo∣re, vel odio dignus scit. Eccl. 4.1.
• * 1.73

  In some Editions it is thus: But we love a particular Good: True; but Sin consists not precisely in that: For all Good is amiable, and ought to be loved. Our Love is in it self good; and even in our loving that particular Good, we follow the Impression which God gives us. Our Sin precisely consists in our fasten∣ing upon that particular Good the Impression which God gives us to love all Good, or universal Good, at the time when we both might, and ought to love it. Therefore Sin is nothing; and though God does all, he does it not. Now whilst, &c.
• * 1.74

  This Illu∣stration re∣lates to the fifth Chap∣ter of the first Book of the Search.
• * 1.75

  In the Ob∣jection to the Article of the Il∣lustration upon the seventh Chapter of the second Book, I explain what I here say in general of the loss of Power, Man had over his Body.
• * 1.76

  See the Il∣lustration upon the 6••h Chapter of Part II. Book III.
• * 1.77

  Ne omni∣no tacere∣mus inter∣rogati quid▪ tres cum tres esse fateamur; S. Aust. de Trin. lib. 7. cap. 4. And in another place, Cum quaeritur quid tres? Magna prorsus inopia hu∣manum laborat Eloquium. Dictum est tamen tres personae non ut illud diceretur, sed ne taceretur. Ibid. lib. 5. cap. 9.
• * 1.78

  Chap. 10. Book I.
• † 1.79

  See Ch. 7. Book III. and its Il∣lustration.
• * 1.80

  Fortissimo quippe di∣misit atque permisit fa∣cere quod vellet. Aug. de Corrupt. & Grat. cap. 12. See the 5th Dialogue of the Christian Conversations, towards the End of the Brussels Edition.
• * 1.81

  Chap. 3. Book V.
• * 1.82

  The M••on when be∣held with a Telescope looks much like what is here re∣presented.
• * 1.83

  See Ch. 3. Part II. of Book VI. with the Illustrati∣on.
• † 1.84

  See Ch. 6. Part II. of Book III. with its Il∣lustration.
• * 1.85

  See the Il∣lustration upon the 7th Chap. of Part II. Book III.
• * 1.86

  See the 5. Dialogue of Christi∣an Conver∣sation. Aug. in Jul. lib. 6. cap. 3.
• * 1.87

  See Ch. 7. Part II. of Book II. with its Il∣lustration.
• * 1.88

  At every Objection turn to the Arti∣cle it is made a∣gainst.
• * 1.89

  Answer to the sixth Objection against his Meditati∣ons. Art. 6. Art. 8.
• * 1.90

  See the Il∣lustration upon the 6th Chap. of Part II. Book III.
• * 1.91

  And calls them all by their names Ps. 47.
• * 1.92

  Chap. 1.19.
• * 1.93

  See the Il∣lustration upon the 3d Chap. Book V.
• * 1.94

  In the Illustrati∣on about the nature of Ideas, I shall more particularly explain what is Order, and why God necessarily loves it.
• * 1.95

  See the Fifth Dia∣logue of Christian Conversations.
• * 1.96

  Rom. c. 7.
• * 1.97

  As by one Man sin en∣tred into the World, &c. Rom. 5.12.
• * 1.98

  I was sha∣pen in Ini∣quity, and in sin hath my Mother conceiv'd me. Ps. 51.5. Ec. 25.23. Luke 2.48.
• * 1.99

  Gen. c. 3.
• * 1.100

  La Samari∣taine upon Pont neuf in Paris.
• * 1.101

  Chap. 2. Part 2.
• * 1.102

  Lib. 1. de Napt. Cap. 25, 26, 27, & in Jul. l. 6. c. 19. & a∣libi.
• † 1.103

  Ep 23. lib. de pec∣cator. me∣ritis, c. 19. & alibi.
• ‖ 1.104

  Innocent. III. in Decret. 3. de Baptismo & ejus Effectu. Et in Concil. Viennensi generali 15. sub Clement V.
• * 1.105

  Invidia po∣stea & con∣tumetiis Clarico∣rum Roma∣nae Ecclesiae ad Monra∣ni dogma delapsus, in multis libris novae prophetiae Meminit. Hieron. in Catalogo de Script. Eccles.
• * 1.106

  Siambo vi∣demus verum esse quod dicis & am••o videmus verum esse quod di••o, ubi quaeso id videmus? Nec ego utique in te, nec tu in me; sed ambo in ipsa, quae supra mentes nostras est, incommutabili veritate. Confess. de S. Aug. l. 12. c. 25. See St. Austin De libero arbitrio▪ &c. Book 2. Chap. 8.
• * 1.107

  Nec natura potest justo secernere iniquum. Lucretius, Diogenes▪
• * 1.108

  And now O Inhabitants of Jerusalem, judge betwixt me and my Vineyard. Isa. 5.3
• * 1.109

  Art. 6. & 8.
• * 1.110

  See the Fifth Dia∣logue of Christian Conversa∣tions.
• * 1.111

  See the first Illu∣stration.
• * 1.112

  Est quippe sup••rb••a▪ & pecc••••um maximum, uti da••is, ta••quam innaris.

  S Bern. de diligendo Deo.
• * 1.113

  This is omitted in some Edi∣tions.
• * 1.114

  Ch. 1.18. Ch. 4.••••▪
• * 1.115

  Cor. 13.
• * 1.116

  L. 31. c. 20
• * 1.117

  Propinqui∣or nobis qui fecit, quam multa quae facta sunt. In illo e∣nim vivi∣mus, mo∣vemur, & sumus. Istorum au∣tem plera{que} remota sunt à mente no∣stra propter dissimilitu∣dinem sui generis. Recte culpantur in libro sapientia inquisitores▪ hujus saeculi. Si enim tantum, inquit, potuerunt valere ut possent aestimare saeculum, quomodo ejus Dominum, non facilius invenerunt? Ignota enim sunt fundamenta oculis nostris, & qui fundavit ••erram propinquat mentibus nostris. De Gen. ad litt. l. 5. ch. 16, De Trinitate, lib. 8. ch. 8.
• * 1.118

  1 Tim. 16.16▪
• * 1.119

  St. Cyrill of Alexan∣dria upon the words of St. John, Erat lux vera. St. Aug. Tr. 14. upon St. John, St. Greg. c. 27. upon 28 of Job.
• † 1.120

  Inaccessibilem dixit; sed omni homini ••umana sapienti: Scriptura quippe sacra omnes carnalium sectatores humanitatis nomine notare solet. St. Greg. in cap. 28. Job.
• * 1.121

  Ex. 33▪20.
• * 1.122

  Neither is it found in the land of the living. Job 28.13.
• * 1.123

  Job 28.31.
• * 1.124

  Now we see through a Glass darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, &c. 1 Cor. 13.2.
• * 1.125

  The natu∣ral Man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him. 1 Cor. c. 2.14. Ad Moysen dicitur, non videbit me homo & vivet, ac si aperte diceretur: Nullus unquam Deum spiritualiter videt qui mundo carnaliter vivit. St. Greg. upon the 28. of Job ch. 28.
• * 1.126

  Answer to the fifth Objection against the second Meditati∣on to∣wards the end.
• * 1.127

  Eccl. c. 9.1. I judge not mine own self. For I known no∣thing by my self, yet I am not hereby ju∣stified, but ••e that judgeth me is the Lord 1 Cor. •• 4.4. John 13.37.
• * 1.128

  Eccl. 21.18.
• * 1.129

  Book 1.
• * 1.130

  Mark 12.30.
• * 1.131

  For the most ex∣traordina∣ry of these Opinions. See Suarez Metaphy∣sicks. Disp. 18. Sect. 2. Assert. 2. & 3.

  Scot. in 4. Sent. Dist. 12.1. D. 37.2. D. 17.

  Palaudan. in 4. Sent. D. 12. Q. 1 Art. 1. Perer. 8. Phys. Ch. 3. Conimbr. upon Aristotle's Physicks, and many others cited by Suarez. See Eonseca's Metaphys. qu. 13. Sect. 3. and Soncin. and Javell. upon the same Question.
• * 1.132

  Ruvio lib. 2. Ph. Tract. 4. qu. 2.
• * 1.133

  See Suarez Disp. 18. Sect. 1.
• * 1.134

  Ch. 1. of the second Book of his Phy∣sicks.
• * 1.135

  See Fonse∣sa, Suarez, and o∣thers be∣fore cited.
• * 1.136

  Book 1. of his To∣picks. C. 1.
• * 1.137

  In his Metaph. Disp. 18. Sect. 1. Assert. 1.
• † 1.138

  In Me∣taph. Arist. qu. 7. Sect. 2.
• * 1.139

  See Book 4. Ch. 11. toward the end, and Book 6. Part 2. Ch. 7.
• * 1.140

  See Ch. 2. Book IV.
• * 1.141

  Suarez. ib.
• * 1.142

  See Chap. the last of The Search.
• * 1.143

  See the Illustrati∣on upon the Fourth Chapter of the se∣cond Part concern∣ing Me∣thod.
• † 1.144

  See the first Illu∣stration upon the Fifth Cha∣pter.
• * 1.145

  Lib. 1. de Retract. 1 Cor. 10.19.
• * 1.146

  Nemo ha∣bet de suo nisi mendacium & peccatum, Concil. Araus. 2. Can. 22.
• * 1.147

  In the Sence ex∣plain'd in the Cha∣pter be∣longing to this Illu∣stration.
• * 1.148

  I still mean a true and efficacious Force.
• * 1.149

  It seems evident to me that the Mind knows not by inter∣nal Sensa∣tion, or Consci∣ence, the motion of the Arm she Ani∣mates. She knows by Consci∣ence only what she feels, or thinks. By inward Sensation, or Conscience, we know the sense we have of the Motion of our Arm. But Conscience does not notify the Motion of our Arm, or the pain we suffer in it, any more than the Colours we see upon Objects. Or if this will not be granted, I say, that inward Sensation is not infallible, for Error is generally found in the Sensations when they are compos'd. I have sufficiently prov'd it in the first Book of the Search after Truth.
• * 1.150

  Gen. 1.
• * 1.151

  Isa. 44.24. Job 10.8.
• * 1.152

  Vulg. to∣tum. 2 Macc. Ch. 7. v▪ 22, 23. Acts 17▪25. Psal. 104, 14.
• * 1.153

  Engl. Po∣verty and Riches. Eccl. 11.14.
• * 1.154

  Gen. 2.19.
• * 1.155

  Ch. 1.21.
• * 1.156

  Omnia quippe por∣tenta con∣tra natu∣ram dici∣mus esse, sed non sunt. Quomodo enim est contra naturam, quod Dei fit voluntate? Cum voluntas tanti utique creatoris conditae rei cujusque na∣tura sit? Portentum ergo fit non contra naturam, sed contra quàm est nota natura. S. Aug. de Civita. De▪i l. 21. c. 8.
• * 1.157

  Some of St. Austin's Principles are these. What has never sin∣ned, can not suffer evil. But according to him, Pain is the greatest Evil, and Beasts suffer it. That the more Noble cannot have the less Noble for its end. But with him the Soul of Beasts is Spiritual, and more Noble than the Body, and yet has no other End. That what is Spiritual is Immortal, yet the Soul of Beasts, though Spiritual, is subject to Death. Many such like Principles there are in his Works, where∣by it may be concluded, That Beasts have no such Spiritual Soul as he admits in them.
• * 1.158

  Ch. 44.24. 2 Mac. 7.22, & 23.
• * 1.159

  Sol & homo generant ••ominem. Arist. Phy. Ausc. l. 2. c. 2.
• * 1.160

  See St. Th. upon the Text.
• * 1.161

  V. Suarez l. 1. de con∣cursu Dei cum volun∣tate.
• * 1.162

  Durand. in 2 dist. Qu. 5. & Dist. 37. De Genesi ad li••eram l. 5. c. 20.
• * 1.163

  In 4 Sent. Dist. 1. q. 1. D Ali∣aco ibid.
• * 1.164

  Book 4. c. 1.
• * 1.165

  Deut. c. 6.
• * 1.166

  Acts 14.15.16.
• * 1.167

  Ergo nihil agis, ingra∣tissime mor∣talium, qui te negas Deo debere, sed naturae: quia nec naturae Deo est, nec Deus sine natura, sed idem est utrumque, nec distat. Officium si quod a Seneca accepisses, Annaeo diceres te debere, vel Lucio: Non creditorem mutares, sed nomen. Sen. l. 4. de Benef.
• * 1.168

  Isa. 45.7. Amos. 3.6.
• * 1.169

  ••. Moses Maimonid.
• * 1.170

  Vide Vossi∣um, lib. 2. de Idolola∣tri••.
• * 1.171

  Ipsi qui ir∣ridentur Aegyptii, nul••am bel∣luam nisi ob aliquam 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quam ex ea caperent, consecr••v••∣rant. Cic. l. 1. de N••tura Deorum.
• * 1.172

  Phil. 3.9.
• * 1.173

  No Whore∣monger nor un∣clean Per∣son, nor covetous Man, who is an Idolater, Eph. 5.5.
• † 1.174

  They that worship him, must Worship him in Spirit and in Truth, Joh. 4.24.
• * 1.175

  Nos si ho∣minem pa∣trem voca∣mus hono∣rem a••a••i deferimus, non Autho∣rem vitae nostrae o∣stendimus. Hier. in c. 33. Matth. 1 Cor. 9.22. & 10.33. Eph. 6.6. Col. 3.22.
• * 1.176

  Ep. 3. Ch. 2.28. Ch. 2.57. Ch. 6. con∣tra Epist. Manichei. Ch. 16. de Tran. l. 10. & alibi.
• * 1.177

  Part 2. Ch. 3. Art. 6.
• * 1.178

  De Quan∣titate ani∣mae, Ch. 31, 32. &c. Lib. 4. de anima, & ejus origi∣ne, Ch. 12. & alibi.
• * 1.179

  Lins. c. 37.
• * 1.180

  Book IV. Chap. 2. Book VI. Part II. Chap. 7. Book III. Part II. Chap. 8.
• * 1.181

  Sess. 8.
• * 1.182

  Th. Pac. ch. 4.
• † 1.183

  L. 3. ch. 13. Cog. Nat.
• * 1.184

  By that Bull it is forbidden under Pain of Excommunication, to give any Explication of the Decrees of the Council. Vlium omnino interpretationis genus super ipsius Concilii decretis quocunque modo edere, &c. That Power is reserv'd to the Pope.
• * 1.185

  Edit. Strasb. p. 190. Par. Edit. 1. p. 172. in the second, p. 190. in the third, 187▪ in the fourth 95.
• * 1.186

  Pag. 90.