A discourse of the knowledg of beasts,: wherein all that hath been said for, and against their ratiocination, is examined. / By Monsieur de la Chambre, counsellor to the King of France in his counsels, and his physitian in ordinary. Translated into English by a person of quality.

That the Imagination can unite divers Prop••sitions, And out of them make Discourses. (Book 3)

THE THIRD PART. (Book 3)

AS the Proposition is gathering to∣gether of divers simple Concepti∣ons; Discourse also is of divers Propositions which are tyed together by common terms; so that if the Imagination can make Propositi∣ons, it is a great prejudication that it may also make Discourses; supposing that it may use common terms to link them together. After having therefore shewed in the precedent Chapter, that she can make Proposi∣tions, we must now prove how she can use those com∣mon terms for from thence it will necessarily follow that she can reason and pass from a more known thing to that which is less, so that the knowledge of the first is the cause of that it acquires afterwards;

wherein we will have the Nature of Ratiocination to consist.

* 1.1To this purpose we have made it ap∣pear, that when divers images united themselves in the Soul, they do not so confound themselves but that they still keep their Natural distinction, and that therein they are like the visible Species, which unite themselves in the air without confusion, and gather themselves again, if we may so say, even to a point without breaking the order and the natural distinction which they have. So that to speak properly, the ima∣gination rather joyns the fantasms, then unites them; for she ranks and placeth them without mixing them, assembles them without confounding them, and making a whole of divers different parts, it leaves every one in its order, and in its particular deter∣mination; this being presupposed, since the Imagina∣tion, even by the consent of our advirsaries may con∣sider one accident of a thing without heeding the rest, and may stop at what is sweet, without mind∣ing what is white.* 1.2 It may al∣so consider what is white, without thinking on what is sweet. And consequently she may separately know all the Images which are united and joyned together. Now if she can unite two dif∣ferent Images, as we have shewed, she may resemble those she had separately conceived, and form as many several Propositions as she can make several unions, since the Proposition is nothing else but the union it makes of two simple conceptions: For having con∣ceived a thing which is white, soft, sweet, and good

to eat; she may stop at the white, at the soft, at the sweet, at the good to eat, without considering them all together; and in the power she hath to unite Images, she may also assemble the white with the soft, and the soft with the sweet, and the sweet with what is good to eat, and in pursuit joyn the former with the latter, there being no more reason why she should unite the white with the soft, then the white with that which is good to eat. In a word, she may make as many Propositions, and afterwards return on her first Notion, to unite it with the last, in which the Nature of Reasoning consists, as we shall more amply shew hereafter.

Now if she be capable of these actions, she with∣out doubt forms a Discourse which we call Gradati∣on, and even a perfect Syllogism▪* 1.3 if we cut off one Proposition, as it often happens; For she makes three Pro∣positions. The first of which is linked to the second by a common term; to wit, the sweet, and the last with the two others by that of white, and by that of good to eat, as may be here seen:

This White is Sweet; This Sweet is good to eat, Then is this white good to eat.

But besides the concatenati∣on of these Propositions if it were belonging to the essence of Rati∣ocination to pass from a known thing to one unknown;* 1.4 it is certain, that the Imagination makes the same pro∣gress

in these encounters, for it instantly knows not that this White is good to eat but only after it knows that it is sweet, and that what's Sweet is good to eat: In effect, when a Dog sees a white thing, although he may come to it to eat it yet he eats it not till he hath first smelt and tasted it, which is an evident sign that he doth not certainly know that this white thing is good to eat, untill he pass over the other qualities which give him a perfect knowledge thereof; and certainly if a man would consider the different connection which sensible accidents have with the nature of the things, and that the savour for example hath more with the goodness of aliments, then the odor or the colour, he will be obliged to confess that of necessity the Imagi∣nation must often pass from a known thing to that which is less so, and consequently that she makes se∣veral judgments which have the same concatenation and progress which the true Syllogismes require, and which make her know these things she was unassured of by others, which are more evident.

The Reason which we have here somewhat more ex∣tended then it was in our former Discourse hath been confined by the several Experiments which reign almost in all the actions of Animals.

The first Experiment is this, A Dog would eat somewhat which is hung on high, he considers it barks for it, turns and leaps at it, without getting it; at last he observes a place raised up whereby he may rise to another, and thereby at last he may catch what he de∣sires. I say this cannot be done, but he must joyn the phantasm of the place where he is with that of the first step, and that with the latter and in pursuit with the thing which he would have: And that all this would

be useless unto him, did he not reassemble the first No∣tion with the last. Since it is by that latter action that he knows the thing which he had before judged to be impossible was no more so. And therefore as this gathering together could not be made without joyning several Propositions with common terms, and without passing from a more known thing to one which was less, so there must necessarily therein be a true Ratiocina∣tion.

The second Experiment consists in the wilde beasts use in hunting which they make against one the other, where it is necessary their Imagination must figure it self means, without which they easily per∣ceive they should catch nothing; for they must then needs make a design to follow their prey And the difficulties they encounter oblige them to form another to use that wile without which they cannot catch it; And last of all, they have Wile with the Prize, which can never be done without discourse, and any may ea∣sily judge.

The last Experiment which the order of our former Treatise hath obliged us to unto from these, to shew that Custom and Instruction are never acquired without Discourse, may here again take its place, as that which is decisive, and which receives no valu∣able answer. It is then true that when we teach or accustom Beasts to do any thing, by the caresses or by the menaces we use; and after that the remem∣brance they have thereof engageth them to do the same thing which they have been taught: the Imaginati∣on must needs reason thus, That since such a thing hath at some other times caused them good or ill, that which presents it self being alike, ought also to cause

the same effect: For the images of the blows they recei∣ved are different from those which the imagination forms at that time, since these are of past things, & those are of present and future; so that she must unite the image of the present thing, with that of the past, which is known to it, and that by this she must know that which is to come. And if this be not to reason, there is no reason in the world: And if it be a true Discourse, there are but few actions wherein beasts do not reason; all the difficulty which may be made, here is, To know whether the Imagination can know things past present, and to come. But if we consider that Beasts hope, that they fear, and that they desire, there will be no way left to doubt of this truth, since these passions suppose the knowledge of the good or evil to come: For if they are capable to know this difference of times, which is the most difficult to know; the others which are more easie cannot be unknown unto it, the Memory being de∣stined for things past, and the Sences of those which are present.

* 1.5We may yet add hereunto the proof we drew, to shew that instinct is ever accom∣panied with reason, since it confirms the truth which we establish: For as the mo∣tion of the Appetite ought to procede all the actions of Beasts, and that this motion is always advanced by se∣veral propositions, which are terminated by the operati∣on, which is as the Conclusion, as Aristotle will have it: All these propositions which are lincked together by common terms, and which instruct the Soul in what she ought to do, must needs have the form of a true reasoning. In effect, before a Beast begins to do any thing, its necessary it should know whether it be good,

and afterwards that its feasible. And last of all, That the practical judgement should intervene, whereby the Imagination judgeth it ought to be done; in pursuit whereof the appetite stirs its self, and causeth its or∣gans to agitate; and to shew that these several Pro∣positions are necessary in these encounters; besides, what the common sence teacheth us, 'tis that Doggs and Hawkes often see their prey without pursuing it, judging that they cannot take it, because its too far from them; sometimes they seem to doubt, and are apparently troubled to resolve whether they should pursue it or no. Now its certain, that see∣ing the Game, they judge it good; and that not pursuing it, they judge the thing not to be feasi∣ble. So the conclusion which consists in opera∣tion, fails for want of one of the Propositions as it happens in all true Syllogisms.

These then were the Reasons which we thought we ought to imploy to shew, That Animals reason. For although there be an infinite many more, one part of which several great persons have used, and which may be augmented by those which men of Judgment may deduce from so rich and fruitful a Subject; we neither judged they could accommo∣date themselvs to the Principles we had established, nor to the shortness we sought, nor to the belief we had that ours alone might demonstrate this truth. We must now observe what hurts they have received from M.C. his Criticks, and whether they have been weakned by his assaults.

But in the first place I am obliged to say, That I have before me an Enemy very wise, and very ad∣vised, and who through the mistrust he hath of his

own forces, useth all the address of great Com∣manders, who gain as much as they can the ad∣vantage of sun and wind, and amuse the Enemy with light skirmishes, without assaulting him in front, and deciding the business by an equal battel. For besides that M. C. thinks he hath Aristotle on his side, and that he hath opposed against us all the Laws of Syllogisms; as if himself had seen the Chief of my Reasons, he disposeth them as he pleaseth, and in a very strange order he confutes my Conclusions, before he hath examined the Grounds; and for all Objections he hath pro∣duced only imaginary Inconveniences or Paralo∣gisms. In effect, in the 14 Chapter he treats the depth of the question of the Reason of Beasts: In the 16. he shews they make no Propositions: And at last he speaks of the Knowledge of the Senses, which is the first of all Knowledges. On the other side, he often unlinks a Reason from a Subject, or is affected to joyn it with another which is more useless. And the best I find, is, That as he imagined I should have followed the order he keeps, he in many places accuseth me of supposing things as not being proved, because he had then spoken of them without remembring that I had demonstrated them before. But against all these wiles, which lose their name and effect when they are not discovered, we may here speak in gross to M.C. till we have consi∣dered them by denial.

* 1.6First, That neither Aristotle, nor all the Rules of Logick which he hath given us, doth not destroy the Manner of Reasoning which Beasts

use; because they are like two different States, which govern themselves by different Laws. And if Aristotle have made those which are necessary, whereby the Understanding forms its Discourss; it is not but that there may be others for those of the Imagination. I would have it granted as an in∣dubitable Maxim, That no lawful Conclusion can be drawn from particular Propositions; and that the fourth Figure of Galen is useless, nay even faulty. But this takes place only in humane Rati∣ocination, which ever requires some universal Pro∣position; and not in that of Beasts, which can only be form'd from particular Judgments. If M. C. would have upheld the Consequence he draws from what is said in the Schools, he should first have made it appear, That no Ratiocination can be made without some Universal Proposition. For though he hath endeavoured to prove it, besides that the Expositive Syllogism will always convince him he can never make but that this must be a true Syl∣logism:

This White is sweet; This Sweet is good to eat; Then this White is good to eat.

And it's to no purpose to oppose, That it is in the fourth Figure. For were it true, this Figure would not be faulty in the Reasonings of the Imagi∣nation, as we shall shew hereafter: And were it so, it would be always true, That a vicious Syllogism is a Syllogism; and a man cannot say, That he that reasons ill, reasons not.

In fine it's certain, That Ratiocination in it self,

and without considering the differences thereof, is a Discourse which from two Propositions link'd to∣gether by a common term, inferrs a third. And as this may be done by particular Propositions as well as by universal, it's indifferent to the Nature of Reasoning in general, for either the one or the other to be therein imployed. For if in Reasoning there must be two things which convene in a third, and agree also amongst themselves; and on the con∣trary, this Agreeing is to be found as well in par∣ticular as in universal Propositions, as is to be seen in the proposed Example, where the [White] and the [Good to eat] agree with the [Sweet] which is common to them. In effect, as this Agreement is grounded on a Whole wherein divers things are comprehended, and that there are two sorts of them, to wit, the Particular and the Univer∣sal: There are also two sorts of Agreement; the one which is particular, which serves to the Ratiocination of particulars; and the other which is universal, which serves to the general. But we shall more amply explicate this in the Examen of M.C. his Reasons.

In the second place I say, For what concerns the Order he hath disposed my Matters in, although he thought he had done much for his own Cause to have transposed my Reasons and my Proofs, and from the first start to go about to destroy the Reasoning of Beasts, without having examined the Principles wherein I thought I had established it; I fear he is to be reproved, that he hath pro∣ceeded neither with candor, nor with any good form.

As these Reasons are the lights which lose or augment their splendor according to the situation they are given; It is certain, that having placed mine otherwise then they ought to be, he hath much weakned them; and that those who will not take the pains to consider them exactly, will not observe that vivacity and force they might have had in my discourse. But the question is, Whether he ought to have used this treachery? For although every man be Master of the Order of things he treats of, this in Criticks hath its exception, and principally when we take in task all what an Author hath written on any Subject; for then sincerity and candor oblige us to preserve the legitimate ad∣vantages it hath acquired in the disposition of its Matters; and who makes him lose them, loseth also the quality of Faithful and sincere. Nevertheless I would have M. C. defend himself from all his defects; yet I beleeve he cannot excuse himself of that whereon he fell, falling upon my Conclu∣sion without before having destroyed the founda∣tions whereon it is sustained. For whatever he may say against it, if I have sufficiently proved, that the Imagination unites several terms, and several pro∣positions, and that the bond which the Syllogism requires meets in this union; he must himself con∣fess, that she discourseth in these encounters, and what reasons soever he brings to the contrary will never absolutely decide the question, so long as mine subsist. All they can do is to render them doubtful, and to reduce us to the advice of Aristotle who will not have a man abandon a well-established Opinion for some Objections although they were not to be answered.

Certainly M.C: ought to follow the maxime of Conquerors, who never leave any place behind them which may hinder their progress or their re∣turn. And he who holds but the negative part, and who as he says himself is to this instant but a defender, he should rather have denied my prin∣ciples, and so have rendred all my consequences vain, then amuse himself to establish uncertain things on ruinous foundations, and to propose in∣conveniency in those examples I have deduced, from whence he can draw no universal Conclu∣sion.

Again, if after all these great conquests which he beleeves he hath made, he had at last assaulted the Fort wherein I had entrenched my self, he might finde some shew of excuse; but when he presented himself before it, he passeth forward, and says That it was not worth stopping at. For my part I could say as much of his Answers, did I not know that in what Van soever it be there is no∣thing which ought to be despised, and that even false are not useless in discipline; those he hath given us here respect the examples onely, which we have demonstrated that Beasts reason: So that in some sort we may say, that he had no mind to as∣sault the body of our Army, and that his design on∣ly was to beat up a Quarter.

CHAP. I. An Examen of the Reasons which M. C. hath produced against the Syllogism we used for an example of the Reasoning of Beasts.

IN the first place he says thus, That when I sup∣pose a Beast pressed with hunger sees a white thing, feels it soft and finds it savory, and after that con∣cludes that this white thing is good to eat, I make him speak a kind of Reasoning which the Schools call Sorites, which beasts are not at all capable of, since there are many men which cannot make them, having not breath enough to make so many Propositions, nor without confusion to take again so far estranged a term; and that on the other side this way of arguing is very uncertain and captious.

I in a word shall answer this ob∣jection,* 1.7 that when this form of argu∣ing is led by the senses as it is here, it's very easie to make, because the presence of the ob∣ject hinders the confusion of the Imagination. In effect, there is no man so stupid, who cannot make an infinite many Propositions of this kinde; for present him with but twenty things placed in order, he may say that the first is before the second, the se∣cond before the third: And after having thus run them over without any trouble, he may conclude the first is before the twentieth. On the other side, it is not uncertain in those things which are con∣founded

together, and as it were identified. For if the same thing be all white, all soft, all sweet, and all good to eat; it is certain that one may assured∣ly say, that this thing is white, and that this white thing is good to eat. So that the Imagination go∣ing from one quality to another by means of the senses, it can never be decided when it joyns the former with the latter. After all, as this form of Discourse is not uncertain and captious, M. C. can conclude nothing else but that some one may be found which is uncertain and captious; but it follows not that this or that must be it. At worst he should onely prove, that Beasts should often deceive them∣selves, should they use this way of reasoning. Which we shall willingly grant him, since no body beleeves they are in their judgment infallible.

He adds, That if one of the Propositions were cut off to make the Syllogism;

This White is Sweet, This Sweet is good to eat, Then this White is good to eat;

A man concludes nothing from hence because its in the fourth figure. But he should at the same time have told us what form he gives to this fourth figure, since all men do not form it after one man∣ner; some contenting themselves with the dispo∣sing of the Medium; others would have the Con∣clusion thereof indirect; for if he beleeves it suffi∣cient that the Medium should be placed quite con∣trary from what it is in the first figure, this fi∣gure is not faulty, since it proves and concludes on

the same principle, and in the same manner as the former. It is onely useless, since in effect, its the same with the first, to which its indifferent for the force of the illation, whether the Medium be Sub∣ject or Attribute in the one of the two first Propo∣sitions. Now if this be so, the proposed Syllogism is not faulty, and concludes directly as the exposi∣tive Syllogism would do in the first figure.

But if M.C. beleeves that the conclusion there∣in must be indirect, he deceived himself when he would have it that this Syllogism was in that figure; for to put it therein, the condition must be changed, and instead that it says, Then this white is good to eat, a man must say, Then this good to eat is white; I say yet more, had it been made so, yet were it not indirect, because that to be white, sweet, and good to eat, are here particular things, which are identified in one subject; and therefore one may say That this White is good to eat, and that this Good to eat is white, without being in danger to change the natural order which these things ought to keep a∣mongst themselves; it is not so when there are ge∣neral terms; for necessarily it must be that as they are superior to the rest, they keep the natural or∣der which their superiority requires; and when they enter into a conclusion contrary to that order, the conclusion is then indirect; in effect the fault which is to be found in the fourth figure where the conclusion is indirect; comes but from that the ge∣neral terms, which naturally ought to be drawn from their inferiors, are not so in the Conclusion; now this reason supposeth that there are general terms and universal Propositions, and therefore it

concludes nothing, if Syllogisms are found in this figure, wherein there are onely terms and particu∣lar propositions. So that we may conclude that the defect we have observed in this way of arguing respects onely the Discourse of the Understanding, and not that of the Imagination, where rules are a part and which is not subject to all those Maxims which are drawn from Universal Notions. And in∣deed the Expositive Syllogism hath a place in all the figures, notwithstanding the laws they observe for the universality of propositions.

That there is somewhat in the Conclusion of this Syllogism which is not in the An∣tecedent.

But let us withdraw our selves from these thorns whereto M.Cs inadvertency hath led us; and let's see whether it be true, That there is nothing in the Conclusion of our Syllogism which is not in the second Proposition, as he says, whence he infers That its useless, and therefore that therein there is no Syllo∣gism; The reason he brings is, That since before the beast forms the Conclusion of the Syllogism he judgeth that the sweet which he holds betwixt his teeth is good to eat, he must of necessity eat it, because knowledge is given to beasts but to raise their Appe∣tite, which is forced to move it self by the first pacti∣cal judgement they make, and which consequently gives them not the leasure to philosophize on useless Propositions.

And I for my part say, that M. C. hath not given himself the leasure to philosophize on these

useful and necessary propositions: for there is not one of the reasons he brings which witnesseth not its precipitation, some being found so contrary to what he says presently after, others being doubtful or false, and all of them wanting that strict con∣nexion, which makes good consequences.

In effect, after having objected against me, that there is nothing in the Conclusion of the propo∣sed Syllogism, which is not in the second proposi∣tion, he says, That I had done better to have redu∣ced it to this Enthymema, This White is sweet, then its good to eat. But I would willingly ask him, whe∣ther in this Enthymema there is any thing in the Conclusion which is not in the Antecedent; if he grants it, there must also necessarily be in the con∣clusion of our Syllogism somewhat which is not in the second proposition, since the antecedent it like 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to the second proposition: If he denies it, how will he have me make an Enthymema which ought to be composed of two propositions? For al∣though in course he hath condemned it, it is not because there is nothing in the Conclusion which is not in the Antecedent. But because it must be as he says, that the beast must know that all what is sweet is good to eat. We shall examine this Rea∣son hereafter. In the mean time, let M.C. if he can dis-intangle himself out of the puzzle this Answer hath put him in.

To take the depth of the business we must see Whether truly there be nothing in the Conclusion of our Syllogism which is not in the second Proposition. Certainly if these propositions are different, for being composed of terms which signifie different

things, these two are also different the one from the other, as some others which may enter into a Syllogism; since Sweet is the subject of the Minor, and White is the subject of the Conclusion: And that 'tis not to be conceived, that to be Sweet is the same thing as to be White, M.C. cannot with rea∣son contest this truth.

But says he, That the Beast should stop at the Minor without going to the Conclusion, because that at the same time he knows that the white is sweet, he also knows that its good to eat, and that he must ne∣cessarily eat it without having time to form the Con∣clusion.

And what! may he not be hindred from eating it? And in that case it is not true, that it's a necessary thing he must eat it, and that he may not have the leasure to conclude. Without doubt M. C. hath confounded the Action with the Desire; for it is certain that a Beast knows a thing sweet; it com∣monly at the same time knows it good to eat, and then he desires it at the same time: But it follows not from thence that he must eat it, and that he must not make as many different propositions as he unites different notions. Now the Notion of White and Sweet is different from that of Good to eat, and therefore the Beast makes as many several propo∣sitions of these three terms as it directly unites them. The strongest difficulty and objection of M.C. consists in this, that these propositions are made at the same time, and that discourse requires they should be made the one after the other. Whereupon we are to demonstrate two things; to wit, That they are not always done at one time, and

that it is not necessary for Discourse that they should be done with time.

For the first, It is certain that a beast may know that a thing is sweet without judging that its good to eat, because that if he judged it good to eat, he would desire to eat it, and in effect would eat it, if he were not hindred. Now a beast which is not hungry, desireth not to eat what he hath found sweet, and consequently judgeth not that it is good to eat; for since the sensitive Appetite is forced to move it self upon the first practical judgment which the Imagination makes as M. C. says, and as its true, if this Beast had judged that a thing was good to eat, it must necessarily follow that after this practical judgment he must desire to eat it, and by the same necessity that he must eat it, in effect, were there no hinderance; He may then know a sweet thing by the judgment of the taste, which can∣not deceive him, and not judge it good to eat be∣cause he hath no need to eat. Thus these two no∣tions are not made at the same time as M. C. will have it, and therefore they may enter into the form of a Syllogism. Perhaps he may object against us, that the example we have proposed, supposeth the Beast prest with hunger that he had need to eat, and in that case that these two propositions must be made at the same time: But all he could infer from thence were that this example is not good, and that another must be produced, where these propo∣sitions must be made the one after the other, which would be very easie to do. Yet besides what we might say, that this Beast before it was prest with hunger might have known the thing was sweet, and

remember it afterwards when he was hungry with∣out any new proof, and might then judge it to be good to eat, having before judged that it was sweet, and so these two notions would not have been made at the same time; without amusing our selves to answer these vain objections, we must make M.C. see, That it is not necessary to discourse for the Propositions which compose it to be made at the same time.

That one may Reason in a moment:

First, Should a man judge by the nature of Knowledge he might well perceive that so excel∣lent an action ought to be made with all the readi∣ness observable in those which are less noble then it, since that way of agitating is one part of its per∣fection, and the more perfect the causes are, the more readily they agitate. In effect, there is no∣thing on the Faculties part which hinders it from knowing in an instant, and its no less natural unto it so to agitate, then tis for light and colours who have no need of time to produce their Species. Ex∣perience evidently shews us this truth in the senses, who know their objects at the same instant they re∣present themselves unto them; for if to know things they must produce the images of them, it is necessary that knowing them in a moment, they also in a moment must form the images of them. But this appears not onely in the first conceptions of the soul, we will experiment it in the propositi∣ons, and in those designs which it forms in an in∣stant; and what we have said of dreams, suffici∣ently

declares, that it needs not time to unite those things which are different, and which have no o∣ther natural connexion the one with other. So that all the doubt which may arise from hence seems to fall on the union of several propositions, and chiefly when they compose a perfect Ratiocina∣tion.

But whosoever would but consult with himself, and mind but his own tboughts, he will easily be∣leeve that there are no things which follow one a∣nother with that swiftness, and that if there be any succession amongst them, its a succession of or∣der or of nature, and not of time. And if he will not trust to his own judgment,* 1.8 and that he would know what Aristotles was, and he shall learn from him, that the Minor and the Conclusion of a Syllogism are known at the same time, since to know and to make a proposition is the same things; whence we may conclude that at least two propositions which have connexion together may be found in one moment. Now if this be true as the Schools assure us, its a great likelihood that the two first propositions of a Syllogism may be known in the same manner; since it seems there is no reason why the Minor and the Conclusion are known at the same time more then the Major and the Minor; thus we shall be constrained to confess that the whole Syllogism may be made at the same time.

But without making use of the force of autho∣rity, that of the following Reason may disanul all doubts, and entirely decide the question. Those who exercise themselves to discourse on any subject

finde so great a facility in it, that in a moment they see all the consequences which may be drawn from thence, and as they say, know the Conclusions in the principles. In these encounters they of neces∣sity must reason; otherwise it would follow that through the strength of reasoning, they should cease to reason. And then the habit which they had acquired of it, justed to perfect their Ratioci∣nation should wholly destroy it, which would be a very strange thing, and very singular, since all other habits do not change the Nature and Essence of their actions, and tend onely to render them more perfect and more accomplished: Now it would nei∣ther be to leave Ratiocination in its nature, nor to render it more accomplished to take it quite away, as it would undoubtedly happen if it changed to a∣nother kind of knowledge incompatible with it self.

That the Ʋnderstanding supposeth Ratiocination.

It's to no purpose to say That the Ʋnderstanding which is acquired in pursuit is a higher and more noble action then that of reasoning, and that for that cause the Angels reason not, having no other Knowledge then Understanding as that which is most perfect and most comformable to their nature; for from thence it cannot be inferred that the Un∣derstanding is not a true Ratiocination, but onely that it is more exquisite, and that it hath not those defects which are met withall in ours.

Of a truth, the time which we imploy to form them is no essential thing; tis an imperfection which happens to them, from the weight and weakness of our spirit, which hinders it from being able at once

to penetrate the nature of some things, and at one view to see the several relations they have amongst themselves; but as by exercise and habits these de∣fects are to be corrected; so this imperfection is to be taken away from Raticionations, and they may be found with that swiftness, that there can be no in∣terval betwixt the Antecedents and the conclusions which are drawn from it.

To come back to the understanding; although it be made in an instant, it changeth neither the order nor the connexion which things have amongst themselves: Forasmuch as she makes known the first as first, the second as second, and so of the rest according to the natural order they observe. Now this necessarily carries the disposition and the knit∣ing together which is in the Syllogism. Forasmuch as if we know the connextion which the first hath with the second, and that which the second hath with the third, we must at last of necessity come to know the connexion which the first hath with the third, since its the effect of the precedent, and that the effect is ever posterior to its cause in the order of nature, although it be not alwayes in the order of time. Let a man not say, that these things present not themselves entire, and that its the same as with several objects which are seem at the same time; it being needless for the Soul to joyn them, and con∣sequently to make any Judgement or Discourse up∣on them; besides that these several relations and different connexions cannot be known without com∣paring of things, and that they cannot be compa∣red, but that the minde must alternatively go from one to another to observe the mutual relations

which they have together, which cannot be done without discourse.* 1.9 It is not to be be∣leeved, that this high knowledge which is attributed to Angels should be like the first notions of sence, neither is it a simple con∣ception or apprehension of objects. The order of Nature will have it, that if there be in us any fa∣culty or action which is to be communicated to such pure and perfect Spirits, it ought to be the most Noble, and the most Excellent: Now by consent of all the Philosophers the third operation of the Understanding is more Noble then the first; and therefore it must be that which is common to us with them, they must know all things by that: And I even durst say, that all their knowledge is but a perpetual Ratiocination, because they know not as we do, the things successively, and by parcels; but seeing all at once what is in them, and observing all the relations they have one with another, its almost impossible but in so great a concourse of different objects, and in the several Returns which their Un∣derstanding is obliged to make on them, but they must uncessantly Reason; It seems even that this wonderful disposition which God hath put through all the Universe, requires, That since those things which hold the last degrees of Knowledge can ne∣ver know their objects, but by simple and primary notions; those which are in the supreme degree, and which are most perfect of all, ought never to know theirs but by discourse.

I know well, that in the Schools there are those which say, that Angels have no simple conceptions and apprehension, and that they know things by

making Affirmations and Negations by a simple Judgment, which they call by Intelligence: But in this case they must either assemble or divide the Images of things, because Affirmation and Negati∣on cannot be otherwise found, but by the union and separation of Images. Now if this be so, they must discourse, because that in the union of several Images which the relation and comparison of things requires, the form and contexture of discourse must therein necessarily be found.

However it be, that Discourse which is thus made, is most perfect, and hath not those defects which are commonly found in others, because its made in an instant, and that all at once it gives the Knowledge of all the propositions which com∣pose it.

But what! If this be so,* 1.10 the understanding cannot move from things more known, to known to those which are less known, as we say its alwayes done in Discourse; Certainly, if by the most known things, we understand that they are to be know some time before the rest; its certain this progress is not made here where all are known at the same time. But if we understand that these things are by Nature, and by Reason more known, because they are as it were the principles and sum of the rest, we must not doubt but that a progress is made from those things which by nature are more known, to those which are less: now universal things are by Nature and Reason more known then particulars, causes then effects; In a word, the first, then the last, although

they may be all known at the same time.

But this is no place to highten the advantage of this matter. Its sufficient to say, that if in this opinion there be any thing contrary to the common sense of the Schools, it is that the Schools have not considered Ratiocination in its nature, but in its spe∣cies; that it hath defined the gender by its dif∣ferences, and that at last it stops at the most com∣mon way of discoursing which is observed amongst men, without taking notice of any other, and with∣out observing that the conditions therein required were defects, and not things essential unto it.

After all this, could not discourse be made in an instant, its yet true that its often made so fast, that its impossible to observe therein any sensible and manifest succession of time: And there is no minde so heavy and stupid, which cannot make proof in it self of the extream swiftness it makes use of to draw certain consequences, and to dis∣course of those things which the Senses and the Memory present it withall. Now I will take no other advantage in the dispute I have with M. C. to stop his mouth, when he so often opposeth against me, (p. 137) The great number of propositions and Syllogisms which a beast must be obliged to make before it should carry it self towards any thing, had it the faculty of reasoning which we give it. (Page 139) That when it hath found any pleasing object, his appetite provokes him so strongly that he hath no leasure to discourse thereupon. And that at last the precipitation where∣with he agitates is incompatible with so many Proposi∣tions which we make him make. For if all this may be done in a moment, that is to say, in an imper∣ceptible

time, it is not to be feared but that the Imagination may have time to execute it; neither can it be contrary to the precipitation wherewith beasts are wont to agitate. Yet will I not that all Propositions which they make on the same object are made at the same instant; I know they may see a thing long before they taft it, and after having tasted it, at the same time they will not have a desire to eat it, although they find it good to the taste, for∣asmuch as having no need to eat, they conceive it not good to eat. But I pretend onely to shew by what hath been said, that there are some which fol∣low one another very readily, it being nothing ne∣cessary for a sensible space of time to be betwixt them and others which are formed the one after an∣other in length of time, as it happens in those we make.

Lets return to the Examen of that Syllogism which hath given so much trouble to M. C. and defend him from the rest of the assaults we give him. He therefore says, (page 126.* 1.11) That all the terms which compose it are universal, and therefore that its impossible for beasts to use it, since they are not capable of forming any universal notions.

Truely I ought to beleeve that M. C. hath a very ill opinion of me, to make me such a boyish Ob∣jection, and to think to trouble me with a slight subtilty of the Schools, which is not able to stop the meanest Logitian. There is none but know, that the terms are common and general two wayes; either because they may be applyed to several

things, or because they signifie a Nature which is conceived common to divers things; we may apply that of Sweet to all the particular objects, which the Sences judge Sweet, and yet for all that, with∣out thinking that sweetness is a nature common to all those subjects; and that in this the Ima∣gination useth it as all the rest which are in the pro∣posed Syllogism. But in that sense there they repre∣sent no universal Idea, and therefore M.C. cannot infer what he pretends. In effect were his reason good, it could not be that a beast should know that a thing were sweet, forasmuch as the term of sweet, as he says, is an universal term, which supposeth an universal Idea, whereof beasts are not capable: If it be therefore true, that the Sences know what is sweet, and that sweet is not an univer∣sal term, since the Sences onely know singular things, why should it rather be universal in this Syllogism, then in the Judgement the Sence makes of it! On the other side, when all the terms of Sweet, of Good, of Thing, should have a more ge∣neral signification and more transcendent then they have, they would lose it by the restriction which the demonstrative Pronoune gives them: For when we say This Sweet, This Good, This Thing, we figure no∣thing which is general or transcendent. But the mind commonly stops at the singularity of the thing which is exprest by these terms.

To conclude, it is not necessary to know the general connexion of terms. He adds, That this Syllogism con∣cludes nothing, unless we know, That all what is sweet, is good to eat; and that if a beast doth not onely know this universal Proposition, but also its universality,

it cannot imploy sweetness as a means to conclude the goodness of the Aliment. This reason was pleasing to M. C. for he repeats it in the 132 page, where he very much insists on the Knowledge which a beast ought to have of the universal connexion which is betwixt the sweetness and the goodness of the Ali∣ment, to conclude such a thing good to eat.

Before we enter into the Examen of our opini∣ons, we must both of us agree in one Truth which cannot be contradicted; to wit, That when a beast eats any thing which he knows is sweet, its certain he will eat it; and that he would not eat it, did he not finde it good to eat; forasmuch as nothing moves the appetite but what is good; and therefore he knows the connexion which sweetness hath with goodness, since he findes not the thing good, but because its sweet, and that if it were not sweet, he would not judge it good. The question then is to know, whether it be necessary for him to know the universal annexion of sweetness with goodness; or whether it be sufficient for him onely to know that which is to be found betwixt these two particu∣lar qualities: And of necessity M. C. must take the one side or the other, unless he hath a design to commence a suit against Nature as well as against me; if he therefore beleeves that a beast knows the universal connexion of sweetness with goodness, there is nothing hinders but that a beast my deduce the proposed consequence, and conclude, after ha∣ving known, That a thing is sweet, That the thing is good to eat, because he knows, that all what is sweet is good to eat. After this manner would M.

C. fall into the opinion which we maintain, that Beasts reason, although by another way. For we beleeve it sufficient for them to know the particu∣lar connexion of sweetness with goodness, to con∣clude that such a thing is good to eat.

In effect, if it be true that they know the connexi∣on which those two qualities have with one another, as we have shewed; and that they can conceive nothing that's universal, that being above the ma∣terial faculty, it's necessary they should know the particular connexion which these two things have together: So that since they judge a thing good to eat, because they find it sweet, it follows that the knowledge of that particular connexion is sufficient to make them conclude that such a thing is good to eat, since that in effect they do so, neither are they deceived in their judgment. I must confess indeed that there is an universal connexion of sweetness with goodness, which serves for the foundation of that truth which beasts know; but its in Nature, and not in the Imagination which is not obliged to know it that it may certainly infer that such a thing in particular is good to eat; its like those who do things by rote; For what they do is conformable to the rules of Art, although they know it not, neither doth their ignorance hinder them from do∣ing it as perfect as it could be done. So the Ima∣gination knows not that all what is sweet is good to eat, but onely that the sweet is good to eat; and with this particular knowledge it as certainly knows it ought to eat it, as if it had a general knowledge thereof. Last of all, since what it thus

knows is found true, what need it seek it any other way? And since Syllogisms may be made of par∣ticular propositions which make a good conclu∣sion, Why then may not that which it makes be good?

M.C. hereupon says, That from that, any sweet thing is good to eat, it follows not that that is it.

Its true, and I confess that beasts sometimes de∣ceive themselves, neither did I say their Syllogisms were demonstrative. It is sufficient if they be pro∣bable, and that commonly they make them to know the particular connexion which Nature hath placed betwixt those two qualities; for by her they know that such a thing is good to eat, with as much cer∣tainty as all other sensible things may be known. It is certain, they do not know that they know it; for to know a thing, and to know that one knows it, are two different things, although M. C. it seems hath confounded them. To know that we know, we must consider the general Reasons, and the form of reasoning which we use; in a word, we must make a reflection on that knowledge which Beasts are not capable of. But to know, and to know a thing simply, this is not necessa∣ry, and its sufficient that the notion we have of it be like the nature of the thing which presents it self without examining the principles or the means whereby we know it.

That sweetness cannot move the Appetite untill the Imagination hath judged it good.

After this M. C. makes me three great questi∣ons, and askes me, Who could have told me, That Beasts did not eat before they made all these fair Dis∣courses; That sweetness was not sufficient to move the Appetite if the Imagination knew not that it were good to eat; and that it makes three different judge∣ments from the two first of which it infers a third? But I shall answer in a word, It is reason told me so. And I wonder that having made him see it so clear and evident, it hath not preswaded him the same thing. I have much more reason to ask who told him, That sweetness is sufficient to move the Appetite without its being necessary for the imagina∣tion to judge that the sweet thing is good to eat? For no Philosopher could have taught him this Maxim, nor could any Reason have engaged him in a Pro∣position which destroys the first elements of Philo∣sophy. All the world is agreed that the Appetite cannot be moved but by what is good; and that therefore sweetness as sweetness cannot move it, it must be known as good; but also as good to eat, if the Appetite will eat it. Now the sence knows not this goodness as M. C. confesseth presently after, and therefore it must be the Imagination, since the Appetite affords no kind of Knowledge.

Certanly it will endanger those which will perceive how M. C. hath abused himself with such gross errors; to be scandalized with the reproach he makes me, That I onely brought fair words to maintain my

opinion, without having troubled my self to uphold them with solid Reasons. And perhaps some will say, that he hath used neither to destroy them; and as there is more trouble to build then to ruine, he hath done wisely to have established nothing, since he hath succeeded so ill in that which was most easie. For my part all that I can say in this en∣counter is, That he ought not to have contented himself to have learnt from all the men he had con∣verst with, That Beasts did not reason. He ought also to have informed himself of the reasons which they had to beleeve in; and boldly to have pro∣duced them for the defence of the Truth, for the reputation of those with whom he had spoken, and perhaps for the instruction of those to whom he hath not spoken.

But what? Could he have brought a better reason to prove that Beasts reason not, then the experience which he hath made thereof in himself? he hath as he saith examined the actions of his sen∣sitive Appetite, and after having found them all like those of beasts, He concludes very strongly that in his opinion, That since his Appetite doth things without reason, and often against reason, that of Beasts ought to work after the same man∣ner.

I am ravished, that after having so often shewed that M.C. reasons not where he thinks he reasons, well, he gives me occasion to make it appear, that he reasons well where he thinks not that he reasons And its there wherein I shall the more easily take the liberey to tell him that he deceives himself, and that the most part of actions which he beleeves to

be without reason are made with a perfect Ratioci∣nation. But he must observe that this Ratiocina∣tion is of his Imagination and not of Understand∣ing. For it is certain, that in the most part of these actions which he findes in himself, and in all the Examples he brings of those who are gowry or pa∣ralytical; the Imagination always reasons after its own manner, and forms its ordinary Discourses be∣fore the Appetite is moved. So that we may im∣ploy for him and against him, The reason he ob∣jects against us and say, That since bis Appetite which is like that of Beasts, operates but in pursuit of the Imaginations reasoning, it must be the same with that of the Appetite of Beasts: And by an inversion of the same proof, since we have shewed that the Imagination of Beasts reasons be∣fore the Appetite is moved; it must needs be that his reasons also before his Appetite moves it self to any thing. Let him not wonder at the shortness of the time he imploys therein, he need none at all; and if he will consider what we have before said, he will know that the Mind is far more ready, and moves far more nimbly then he thinks.

And afterwards without doubt he will see, that he used precipitation when he objected against us; That Reason opposeth it self to the motions of the Ap∣petite, That this undertakes things which Reason would not undertake, and that Beasts must be more reasonable then Men, and their Appetite must be wholly subjected to Reason if they expected the Judgments and the Resolutions from thence, before they moved themselves to any thing. Certainly, be∣fore all these reasons were produced, he ought ma∣turely

to have examined whether they could serve to his cause. For my part who judge them use∣less, I willingly grant them without any prejudice to mine, since the word Reason which he useth is to be understood but of humane and intellectual reason, and not of the Imagination wherein all our difference consists.

But its to press a man too far who no longer de∣fends himself; let us seek enemies elsewhere, and go to the releif of the first Experience, which we did produce to confirm our fundamental Rea∣son.

CHAP. II. Examination of the Objections M. C. hath made against the first of our Experi∣ences.

IT imports that a Dog which would take a thing hung up on high,* 1.12 where∣to he cannot attain, after having obser∣ved an elevated place whereby he may rise on another, and from thence catch the thing he de∣sires, ought necessarily assemble the fantasm of the place where he is with that of the first step, and and that with the latter, and the latter with the thing he would have: And that all this would be useless to him unless he reassembled the first notion which he had found with the last, since its that

which makes him judge that the thing which he did beleeve impossible, was no longer so.

I have almost a mind to grant M. C. all that he here objects against me; for besides some few lines, there is nothing in the three great pages which he imploys to confute what I have said which staggers the opinion I hold; and I even beleeve that the greatest part of the inconveniences he finds therein cannot pass for new proofs to confirm it. In effect what absurdity Is there that a man who sees a Lad∣der raised to get up on the top of a house, concludes before he makes use of it, that otherwise he cannot get up? Why should he not assemble the image of the place where he is, with that of the first step, and that with the second, and so of the rest? And after having made as many Propositions as there are steps, why should he not joyn the first notion he had with the last, to conclude that he may clime to the top by the means of the Ladder? Its so far from any absurdity that it is impossible it should be otherwise done for the reasons we have deduced in the first Chap∣ter of this work. M. C. hereupon says, That we every day go up and down, without thinking on what we do, our reason being then wholly imployed about other things, and that therefore we must not figure to our selves that a Dog reasons, when men who have a greater facility of reasoning then Beasts do not reason.

But he is not awares that he confounds intel∣lectual Reason with that of the Imagination, and consequently can from thence induce nothing a∣gainst me. I with him confess that our reason at that time thinks not on the action which we do,

but I deny that our Imagination thinks not of it. For neither sence nor Appetite can operate with∣out it, and when we see the sequel of the degrees, and how we clime them one after another, it must both conduct our eyes and our steps; Now I pre∣tend that this cannot be done without reasoning, but it is a reasoning which is proper to the Ima∣gination wherein the Understanding hath no share.

For the rest I shall not stop at what is pursuit he says, That the precipitation with which the Dog works in this encounter is incompatible with so many Propositions, and with the deliberation which A∣ristotle requires in these kinds of Discoursings. For we have before shewed, That all these Propositi∣ons may be made in a moment; and we shall have occasion hereafter to make it appear, that he did not understand Aristotle, and that deliberation is not absolutely necessary in these kinds of dis∣coursings.

But I cannot suffer the consequence he draws from thence to part without an examen, That the Mason should make as many Syllogisms as there are steps in the Ladder did he assemble the images thereof, as I have affirmed, because it gives us oc∣casion to shew what the action is, by which the Soul makes the Syllogism and to speak it in a word. What the form and essence of Ratiocination is, of which Philosophy hath scarce spoken, and which M. C. seems to be ignorant of. In effect, if to assemble the image of the first step with that of the the second, and that with that of the third, we should make a Syllogism as M. C. supposeth he

must needs beleeve, that a Syllogism consists in the union of two Propositions, and that as many pro∣gresses as a man can make from one proposition to another, there should be as many Syllogisms, or else he must have vainly proposed as an absurdity, that the Mason must make as many Syllogisms as there are steps of the Ladder.

Wherein Ratiocination consists, and what the Action is which the Soul doth in reasoning.

Certainly as two simple notions make not a proposition, and pass but for the fi••st operations of the Understanding which is redoubled, two pro∣positions likewise make not a Syllogism, and can∣not pass but for a second operation which is re∣peated; and as many Propositions as shall be added a fresh will be but so many repetitions of the same operation, and will never take the nature and the form of a Syllogism, if that which makes the dif∣ference of the third operation with the second do not encounter. Now since there is nothing in the Syllogism which distinguisheth it from all other, collecting together of several propositions but the term Then, it follows that the term is the mark of the ess••ntial difference of the Syllogism, and for the particular action which the Soul makes to dis∣course; For since the simple terms are the marks of the production of Images, wherein the first o∣peration consists. And that the word Est designs the union which the soul makes of divers images, wherein the judgment consists, the word Then must also mark some action different from the two o∣thers,

and wherein the form and essence of Ratio∣cination is contained. The question therefore is to know, what that action is which is designed by that term. And presently a man may imagine, that its the illation and induction which the Soul draws from precedent notions; But besides that in all hypo∣thetick and conditional propositions there is illation without discourse; It must follow that the nature of Ratiocination is wholly shut up in the conclu∣sion, because that that alone contains all this illati∣on. Some say that this word designs the cause of the conjunction of terms, and that the third ope∣ration is different from the second, but because it shews the reason of the conjunction of terms which is not marked in the second: It being true, that when a man saith, Mans is visible, it is not said, why he is visible, but when the word Then is added, we mark the cause why he is said to be visible, to wit because he is reasonable. Although all this is true, it is not therefore that wherein the precise and par∣ticular difference consists which we seek; for the same inconvenience which is found in the illation is herein to be encountred. Since conditional propo∣sitions as well mark the cause of the consequence, and of the conjunction of terms with the Syllogism. Since that in saying, if man be reasonable he must be visible, a man pretends to shew that he is visible because he is reasonable. Now if it be true that one proposition hath that of common with Ratio∣cination to mark the cause of the conjunction of terms, its certain that its not therein wherein we ought to finde the difference which distinguisheth Ratiocination from the second operation of the

Understanding, adding that if the word Then de∣sign the cause onely, it will not make an action as we have said it was necessary, unless they would have us say, That he makes the designation which the Soul makes it self of this cause. But there is no likelihood that so noble and so great an operation wherein Discourse consists should be reduced to so slight a thing as this last designation, which would be to be found even in conditional Propositions, as we have now shewn.

To discover then the force and sence of a word, which how small soever it be comprehends all the extent of our reason; we must consider that when the Soul binds several Propositions together, it makes a progress from one term to another, and goes always forward without returning, if we may so say, on the same steps, and during its march it never makes a Syllogism, having no occasion to imploy the word then: In effect, let a man make a gradation of as many Propositions as he plea∣seth; and for example sake let it be of these five, as this is,

• 1. Peter is a Man:
• 2. Man is an Animal.
• 3. An Animal is a body.
• 4. The Body is a Substance.
• 5. Then Peter is a Substance.

It's certain, that the four first have not the form of a Discourse, because the Soul goes out-right, and passeth directly from the one to the other. But when it comes to return on its first Notion, and that it unites it with the last, then it makes the fift Propo∣sition,

wherein it imploys the word Then, which would be useless in all the precedent, and give to all the gradation the form of Discourse. The same thing••s made in all Caregorick Syllogisms, unless the Understanding joyn, as here it doth, the first with the last: But sometimes it joyns the third with the second, or the second with the third, as in the first figure; sometimes the third with the first, as in the second figure; sometimes the fourth with the second, as in the third figure. For example in these two Propositions, Man is reasonable, Peter is a Man, There are four Notions and to draw a conclusion, the Understanding joyns Peter which is the third Notion with Reasonable which is the second, and concludes, Then Peter is Reasonable. So in the third figure, All men are Reasonable, Some Men are Fools, the Understanding joyns Fools which is the fourth Notion, with Reasonable which is the second, and concludes, then some Fools are reasonable, and so of the rest. But how∣ever this collection be made, it's always true, that the Soul makes a return on its first Notions, and this Return makes not onely the last Proposition where the soul stops and reposeth it self, but also it binds together the terms which were scattered and divided in the precedent; so that we may say the soul makes a circle when she discourseth, and moves conformably to her nature, since the circu∣lar motion is most perfect of all, and which belongs to the most excellent things. This return there∣fore is the motion which properly makes discourse, and which distinguisheth it from all the other acti∣ons of the Soul, and therefore it is that which the Term Then ought to design.

Let it not be objected against us, That Aristotle puts not the conclusion for any part of the Syllo∣gism, and then to this return which is onely found in the Conclusion, is not that which forms the dis∣course, for Aristotle considers the Syllogism as a Logitian, as the Instrument whereby we attain Knowledg, in which case the conclusion is onely the effect thereof; And not as a Physitian, as an operation of the soul distinct from the two others, when he speaks of it also in his Physicks, he ex∣presly says, That the Major and the Minor serve for its Matter, and consequently the Conclusion of it ought to be the form and the principal part. And certainly, as the return of the soul principally appears in the Conclusion, for which reason it hath been called the form of the Syllogism, since the na∣ture of Discourse consists in this Motion. But also as by this return, the soul retakes the terms of the first propositions, we may say that the form of the Syllogism is shed abroad through them, and that in that sence it must be considered as a whole, every Proposition whereof makes an integral part without which it cannot be entire and perfect.

* 1.13Yet must we not abuse our selves on the word Return, as I perceive most men have done, who take it for a Re∣flection; for this to speak properly, is made when the Faculty reflects on it self, and on its proper action considering them separated from their subject; and it's certain the Understand∣ing onely can make this kind of reflection, because it cannot be without abstraction, of which the Ima∣gination is not capable, but when the soul retakes

an image, which it hath already formed, for to joyn it with another, it plights not on it self, nor on on its knowledge, but onely on the effect of its action; thus there is no abstraction, nor conse∣quently no true reflection. And the Imagination may as well make this return, as the Eye which having seen several objects one after the other may return to that which it first perceived; Whence we may draw this consequence, That there is nothing in Ratiocination which surpasseth the so••ce of the Imagination, which is above the Soul of Beasts.

It is time to return to M. C. who says, That the Dog judgeth not of the possibility of what he un∣dertakes: Because if it were so, he would not make so many leaps, and so many unprofitable endeavors, and would not strive to take what the most stupid rea∣son would shew him were too much elevated. And thence he concludes, that it is not reason which car∣ries him to it, but its the object which draws him, and which moves his spirits.

As we shall hereafter have occasion to speak of this possibility, I shall onely here say that Beasts as well as Men often deceive themselves in the judgement which they make, and that both the one and the other do figure to themselves things to be possible which are not so at all. But this hinders not but that before they are undertaken they make a judgment of it how false or deceitful soever it may be, as we shall shew. So that this ought not to oblige M C. in so extravagant an o∣pinion, contrary to all the Maxims of Philosophy, as that is which he seems to endeavour to defend,

when he says, That the Object draws the Appetite and moves the spirits. For although this may be applyed to a moral attraction, as we speak in the Schools, and such a one as the Good and the End are accustomed to make: Yet in other encounters he well observes that he understands a Physical at∣traction, since he assures that the objects have an adamantine quality which supposeth an action of that kind; I would not therefore insist thereupon: seeing he would not clearly make it appear what he thought thereupon. Let's therefore follow him another way, and see what endeavors he will make against the crafts which Beasts use in hunting, which we are assured were the effects of Ratioci∣nation.

CHAP. III. The Examen of what M. C. hath said against the second Experience which we proposed, Touching the wiles of Beasts.

* 1.14CErtainly we may say of a truth, that here he opposeth slights to slights; and that he imitates those Fishes which cast abroad their ink to hide them∣selves from the eyes and snares of the Fishermen; for to lessen the splendor and evidence of a Reason, with which he ought to be convinced, he casts ob∣scurity

on my words and says, That all the difficulty to be found therein depends on the ambiguity of the terms of slights and of figuring. For my part, who use according to the common sence they bear a∣mongst us, I beleeve unless a man were Dutch or Welch he can finde no equivoke in them, after all; if there were any M. C. should have put them by, and afterwards have discovered the weakness of the reason which I have hid, as he feigns, under the ambiguity of those two terms▪

It also belonged to him to propose some of those slights, even he ought to have chosen amongst them all that which to him seemed most advanta∣gious to me, that demonstrating that discourse hath no share in it, he might render my reason useless. In the mean time he thinks himself suffi∣ciently sheltred in saying, That if I had designed any one of these slights in particular, he would have endeavoured to have explicated them But what! since I designed them all, was it necessary for me to mark any in particular; and since I excepted none, ought he not to have judged that I did not beleeve there was any which did not serve for my cause, and that the first of them which he should have defeated would have rendred my objection vain and deficient? Truly this makes me remem∣ber those Fanfawors to whom the choyce of the combate was offered, and which afterwards excuse themselves on this, that that of the sword they were not designed to, wherein they vaunt they would have wrought wonders. For my part I know not what there would have been which M. C. would have made in a particular examen; but I

can say that in general he hath wrought no great ones, and that when he contents himself to assure us in gross, That of all those slights, some were the effects of instinct, and others of Memory and Custom. There is nothing therein wonderfull, unless he for∣get some which are neither made by Instinct, Me∣mory nor Custom.

And that notwithstanding his Induction is not compleat, yet he forbears not to draw an universal Conclusion; for setting aside that Instinct, Memo∣ry and Custom do not exclude Reason, as we shall shew hereafter; It's certain that old Hares and Foxes are more wily then the young ones, and consequently they have particular wiles which they have learned from themselves, and which can∣not come from Instinct, since Instinct is a thing which is natural and common to all the species. This being supposed, when they first of all use these wiles, it's neither by Custom nor Memory, seeing as yet they never have made use of them, and that we cannot accustom our selves to actions which we never did. Neither can we remember those things which are quite new. We must then say that they come from elsewhere, and that they have no other form but reason, since its onely she to whom it a∣lone can be related.

CHAP. IV. The Examen of what M. C. hath said against our third Experience drawn from the Custom and the Instruction of Beasts.

* 1.15AS the last of our Experiences which is drawn from the In∣struction and from the Custom fur∣nisheth us with a most powerful proof of the Rea∣son of Beasts: It hath obliged M. C. to form, as it were a new body of an Army to combate it, and to afford it a whole Chapter for the pitched field; let's therefore a while observe these new ene∣mies.

And first of all, I see M.C. sends forth his For∣lorn-hope; I call all that part so which he hath said concerning Custom in the pages 145, and 146. which nothing concerns the question in debate; and after several faines which he makes to baffle what we have demonstrated concerning the pro∣duction and union of Images, at last he comes to the assault and pretends to shew, that the Imagi∣nation hath no knowledge at all of things past, pre∣sent and to come, whereupon is grounded all the strength of his Reason. In effect he well foresaw, that if he granted that the presence of some ob∣jects made some Beasts remember past things, and made them expect the like from thence to come, he

would be obliged to confess, that they reason as we may judge by what he hath said of Fear, p. 155. for which cause he boldly denies it to be true, and made all his endeavors to prove that the Imagina∣tion knows no difference of time.

But to what purpose serve all these Reasons, if the Experience we have produced convince them of error. All the world knows, and all the world sees that Beasts Hope, that they Fear, that they Desire; and consequently it must needs be that they must know future things, since all these passi∣ons are moved onely by the good or ill which is to come. Now if this be so, it's to no purpose to labour to shew that they can know no difference of time. Wherefore before we examine what he hath produced to prove this Proposition, we must see what he opposeth to this experience, and what address he useth to withdraw himself from so ill a pass.

Beasts hope for things to come.

First he accuseth me, Not to speak wholsomly when I say that Beasts Hope, because I have else∣where written that to speak wholsomly, there was none but Man did Hope, and that all other Animals had but a shadow of Hope, as well as of Reason; Whence he concludes, That since that time the acti∣ons of Beasts have not changed their Nature; And that it doth not become a Philosopher to make that pass for a Truth, which is so onely in shadow and appearance.

Certainly it's easie to judge by this Answer

that M. C. was very much puzzled here, and having no reason to destroy the Hope of Beasts, he would charge his fables upon the Reader, and withdraw himself from the danger by making use of my words. But without reproaching him as he hath done me, that this kind of proceeding is not becoming a Man who seeks the truth, and that it smells more of the Sophister then of the Philoso∣pher; He will give me leave to say, that what I have elsewhere written on the same subject, is not here to be brought in question, in which happily I may have been deceived; but to know whether it be true That Beasts Hope, for if it be so, they must hope for the good to come and know future things.. Were I he alone who held this opinion, perhaps the contradiction which M. C. observes in my words, might render it suspitious. But Aristotle, St Thomas, in a word, all the Schools are of that opinion, and there is no Philosopher of esteem who acknowledg∣eth not Hope to be in Beasts, & the knowledge of the future in Hope. Even M C. cannot but be of that opinion,* 1.16 since he beleeves Beasts are capable of Desire; for Hope is only different from desire by the difficulty we figure of obtain∣ing the good which we have not. Now Beasts may desire a good which they may judge difficult to ob∣tain, and consequently may hope for it. M. C. must therefore confess the truth of this Experience, or prepare another Answer then what he hath pro∣duced, since it satisfies not the common opinion which hath no interest in the contradiction which he hath found in my writings.

But should M. C. possibly have beleeved that

true which I said in another place in the Elogy of Hope, were contrary to what I here affirm? Did he not observe that it was a Rhetorical Discourse, wherein we give more liberty to words, and wherein terms keep not to that severity which Dog∣matical Discourses require? But what if he had said, that to speak soberly, true Philosophers on∣ly Reason, and the rest of men have but a shadow of Ratiocination, had he not made a Proposition which in some sence is most true? and would he not justly have derided those who from thence would have induced, That other men did not reason? Doth he beleeve that when Plato asserts that all what is here below is but the shadow of things which are in their Ideas, did he then bel••eve there was nothing real or true? They are ways of speaking which all languages have used to observe, how some things are estranged from the perfecti∣on of others; and it were to deprive them of their fairest ornaments, and of their most splendent lights, to take away from them their shadows and their figures. When I therefore affirmed, that Man onely did Hope, and that Beasts had but a shadow of Hope, I meant nothing else but that Hu∣man Hope was more noble and more elevated then that of Beasts, and that in comparison of that the other was so base and imperfect that it did not seem to deserve the name of Hope, and had on∣ly the appearance and figure of it. But from thence to conclude that I was fallen into a contra∣diction, when I elsewhere said, that they did hope, he must either be a very ill French-man, or a very ill Logitian.

Beasts fear the evill to come.

For what concerns fear, there is no great difficulty, as M C. says, there being two sorts of it; the one in effect is a Ratiocination, and a consideration of what is not present to our Senses, but which we infer ought to happen unto us; This is not to be found in Beasts: But there is another which we call properly Fear or Fright, of which all Beasts are capable; and must not therefore know what is to come; for we are frighted with present objects, and even with those which are past, so as the Images be pre∣sent.

I shall with M.C. acknowledge then two sorts of Fear, and I hope elsewhere to speak more fully of them then I can do here; but I did not mean to di∣stinguish them as he doth, and to exclude the know∣ledge of the future from none of them, because it were to destroy them and confound several passions in one. In effect, were the evil present, there would be no Fear, it would be Grief, Consternation, or such like. And M. C. of necessity must take frightfulness for a kinde or species of Fear, which it participates to all the nature of the Gender. Now Fear in general supposeth the knowledge of the evill to come, as all our Masters and all our Books teach us; and consequently frightfulness supposeth the same thing, since all what belongs to the Gender ought also to be in the species▪ Cer∣tainly M. C. is herein far from the sense of A∣ristotle and of his Sectaries who beleeve that to form this passion, the ill must not be to come, but

even a man must not be certainly assured that it is to come, or that we have some hopes to es∣chew it.

How we are frighted with present objects.

But what says he? we are frighted with present ob∣jects. Its true, so as it be well understood; for this pre∣sence hinders not but that the ill we fear is to come; when we say, That the objects or the present evils cause frights, the words of Evil and of Object are taken for the cause of the ill, and not for the effect, which is the true evill. And in this sense it's true, that the ill is present, and that still the fright re∣spects the ill to come; because it considers the ef∣fect which that cause is to produce, which is pro∣perly that which gives the fright. Since did we not think that it was to produce its effect, neither would it cause that apprehension; so an enemy who falls at once upon us, a flash of lightning, a fantasm, and all other things which fright and terrifie us, are but the causes of the ill which we imagine is to be∣fall us; for although we think it very near (and it is that which makes the difference of a fright from all other fear) yet it's certain, it is not then so; and were it so in effect, it would not move us to a fright, but to greif, consternation, or the like, as is already said. On the other side, the presence of the object is different according to the several powers to which it relates. That which is present to the eyes, is not always so to the touch; and so if it be true that a fright is moved by objects which are present, for as much as they are seen, yet it

also hinders not, but that this fright considers the future, because those objects are not yet present to the sense of feeling, for the preservation whereof this passion is chiefly raised in the soul; for as A∣ristotle says, those things which are formidable and which cause terror, are those which may cause a corruptive grief.

What shall we then say to the example which M. C. produceth? Of a Man on the top of a Steeple, and who will be sensible of a fright in looking down, although he be not in fear of falling, being fenced about with a rail or wall; for if there be any fear, it is not an effect of his Ratiocination, nor of the know∣ledge of future. I shall answer in few words; First, That M.C. seems to have forgot the subject of our question, for as much as I did not propose these passions to prove that the Imagination reasons, but to make it appear, that she knows the time to come; and therefore the consequence he draws, That this Fear is no effect of his Ratiocination, is to no purpose.

Secondly, He confounds according to his practice the Knowledg of the Intellect with that of the Fan∣cy. For the assurance which this man hath of not fal∣ling, seeing the railes and safeguards which environ him, is an effect of his Understanding, which hinders not his Imagination from figuring to it self that he might fall, & so consequently that she considers not the future; as she is surprised at the sight of a preci∣pice, she minds not that which should reassure her; and the impression she hath received of it is so strong, that notwithstanding all the advice which the Understanding afterwards proposeth, she can∣not

contain herself, but suffers herself to be carri∣ed away with that Motion which she first gave her self. Even as it happens in others passions, which often raise some resistance in the mind, which the superior part affords it, although this fright there∣fore be vain and ill-grounded, yet the Imagination forbears not to do the same thing, which she doth in others which are just and reasonable, and con∣sequently she considers the danger of the fall, as it were truly to happen. In a word, she here repects the evil which is to come, as in all other kinds of fear.

How past dangers trouble the Mind.

So much concerning the fright, which present objects use to incite. It remains now to make M. C. see, that when past dangers come back to the Memory, and produce all the very same effects which fear useth to cause, the Imagination respects even the ill to come; for although in effect it be past, yet it considers it in the condition it was when it moved that first fright; Now at that time it was to come, and consequently she still sees it as to come. That this may be well understood, we are to observe that the Images of things is pre∣served in the Memory with all the circumstances, and withal those modifications with which it's re∣vested, when it enters into that faculty of the soul. So when we see an object a far off agitated with some motion, or scituated in such or such a manner,* 1.17 the image of this ob∣ject remains in the Memory

with the species of the distance of this motion, of the scituation which the senses observed in it; and when we come to remember our selves of it, it again represents it self revested with the same accidents. Now its certain that the differences of time are in the rank of these circumstances, and when a faculty knows a thing which is to come, it with the principall thing conceives the difference of the time to come wherewith it is accompanied; and consequently whether the Image of that ob∣ject ought to be preserved in the Memory, it must needs be with the very same circumstance; and when it re-enters the thought, it therein presents its self as future; otherwise the representation could not be just and faithful. It is not there∣fore to be wondered if those who escape a danger can never again think of it without being surprised with the same fright it had formerly given them; for as much as having the first time known the dan∣ger, as an evil to come, and whereinto they were ready to fall, the image which they have preserved therefore can represent it no otherwise then it then was; that is to say, as ready to come. And fancy∣ing it after that manner it ought to cause a fright, since its a passion which the evil which is ready to befall us is accustomed to provoke.

But what! A man may say, the danger is really past, and who hath escaped it is not ignorant of it, and therefore he ought to have added this circum∣stance of time to the image which he kept there∣of. And if he remembers it again, he ought no more to consider it as a present evil, but as a past e∣vill, since the image which represents it is modified

by this difference of time, which is incompatible with that which is to come.

To this its to be answered. 1. That images have this priviledge, that although they represent con∣trary and incompatible things, yet they have no opposition amongst themselves, and may be com∣patible together, as both Experience and the Schools teach us; so that, that of the past, and fu∣ture time, what contrariety soever they may seem to have, do not destroy one the other, and the Memory may preserve them at the same time in one and the same subject.

2. That the circumstances and the modifications which the Minde adds to bodies of a principal fi∣gure, are as so many several beds and different sur∣faces which she applies the one upon the other. So that the latter altereth not that which was first applied, neither can any one corrupt the Mistris figure which is therewithall revested. So when we first see a man who is set, the image of that man enters into the Memory with that circumstance; and when afterwards we see him stand up, the Mind adds to the mans figure the latter modification without defacing the former; otherwise she could never remember she saw him fit; just so it is of the evil, which at first it judgeth is to befall it; for she preserves the image with the circumstance of the time to come, and when it's past it adds to the image of the ill, the latter difference of time, with∣out defacing the former: Now as these circum∣stances do not confound themselves in the Memo∣ry, but keep their natural distinction therein, the Imagination which may consider the accident of a

subject without minding others, may link it self to that of the future, without minding the past; for example, if the object have any thing which is able to surprise or astonish the mind, as without doubt a great danger is; for the first sight which the imagination hath, may trouble it so powerful∣ly that it will stop at the first circumstance, where∣with she finds it revested, and may then see it but as it were to come, although she may know it as past, did she but afford herself the time to consi∣der the latter representations which she formed thereof. And its in this sense what M. C. says is true, That she would not be disturbed with what is past, and was no more to happen, did she know it as past. But it from hence follows not, That she suf∣fers the emotions of fear without having the know∣ledge of the future, as we have shewed.

I shall not stop at what he supposeth,* 1.18 That the Imagination acts alone in those examples which he produceth. Although I can shew him the contrary, it makes nothing to the question. So that there remains almost nothing for me to say to maintain the proof we have drawn from the passions. For the di∣stinction he placeth in the desires, and all what he says in pursuit thereof, is useless in the point in hand.

Should I grant him, That a man of an amorous inclination needs no Ratiocination to kindle the de∣sires wherewith he suffers himself to be taken at the sight of his Mistris, no more then he who is offended to stir up the appetite of vengeance which takes him at sight of his enemy; And so of the rest of the ex∣amples

he produceth. And that at last all those de∣sires are the first motions, which depend not on reason since they prevent it. Should I say I grant him all this, what prejudice would it do to the propositi∣on I have made? I should prove that the Imagina∣tion may know things to come; and to that end I produce the experience we have, That Beasts de∣sire, which is a passion which supposeth this know∣ledge. Is there a word in all this discourse of M. C. which destroys this proof: Instead that he ought to shew that desire requires not the know∣ledge of the future, he witnesseth that he demands no Ratiocination. But it is not that which is in question; it's to change the Hypothesis, and M. C. cannot avoid the blame to have fallen into that er∣ror of Ratiocination, which the Logitians call Igno∣ratio Elenchi. And if he could defend himself from it, it is still true that he here confounds the Rea∣son of the Understanding with that of the Imagina∣tion, since he cannot confess it, that when he says that the first motions do not depend from reason, and that they prevent it, that cannot be under∣stood but of the superior and intellectual reason; And therefore it makes nothing against me, who in all this discourse onely shew, That the Imaginati∣on hath its proper and particular Ratiocination, in which the Understanding hath no share.

But to go to the bottom of the question, what ever may be said, There is no desire which suppo∣seth not the knowledge of what we desire, and it's impossible that it should not be known as a thing which we have not; for did we beleeve we had it, and possess't, it would not provoke Desire, but

Love or Joy. Neither is this a Paradox, 'tis the common sence of all the learned. And it's fruitless to oppose against it, That we sometimes desire things present; for in seeing them, we enjoy them not, and they forbear not to be absent to that power for which we desire them, as we have al∣ready said of Fear. And therefore we may safely conclude, that since Animals Fear and Desire, as M.C. himself confesseth its necessary they should know the good and the evil to come; And if they did know the things in this difference of time, which is most difficult to know, we ought from thence to infer that they may know them in that of the past and of the present, namely being indued with Memory, which is destined for things past, and of the Senses which judge onely of present objects.

How Beasts know the differences of time.

This being well established, all the reasons which which M. C. brings to prove that it's impossible Beasts should know any difference of time, are use∣less. The truth of this knowledge is not to be doubted; and if there be any difficulty it's to know how this knowledge may be acquired: But the im∣possibilities which are found in the manner in which we fancy the things to be done, cannot be sufficient to destroy the action and the effect, which by ex∣perience we are assured of. It were a strange way of philosophising to endeavor to prove that the Loadston doth not draw iron, because that the at∣traction of a body cannot be made by a simple qua∣lity.

In the mean time M.C. useth herein no other means, and beleeves to have proved, That Ani∣mals know not the time, because, as he conceives, there is no image which can represent it. But what? doth he pretend to know all the secret of these images? doth he know what it is, how they are formed, and how they represent the objects? What the most knowing have discovered herein, is but the least part of what Nature hath kept hid from them; and although they are sure that they are, and that they are serviceable to knowledge, they have reason to doubt of all the surplusage which concerns them.

I would fain ask M. C. how he conceives that Motion is represented by the image which is pre∣served thereof in the Memory; and how a thing which is fixed and permanent, can express another which hath nothing that's stable, and is in a con∣tinual flux. For my part, I finde it as difficult to comprehend how Time may be represented by any image. And if M. C. grants that there is one of Motion, although he knows not how it may be re∣presented, he knows not why he says that there is none of time, because according to his opinion none can represent it; for there is an equal reason either to receive them for the one and for the other, on what we experiment, that the Imagination knows them both, or to refuse them on this, that we know not how to represent them. But we are more nearly to examine M. C. reasons; other∣wise he would beleeve we meant to baffle him with these subtilties, and according to his custom he might brag we had not answered them, what cause

soever we had not to stop there for the reason we have already given.

The Imagination may know the Time past.

M C's first Reason is, That the Imagination knows the absent ill without discerning that it is ab∣sent, because absence hath no images no more then other privations; and so the Memory being unable to represent them, the Imagination which is a material Faculty, cannot know it.

There are several ways to answer this Objection. First, M. C confouds here the past ill with the ab∣sent ill, although they be two different things, seeing there are absent ills which are not past; and if we apply these words to Time, as M.C. doth, it is still certain, That to be absent makes not the difference essential of the Time past; Be∣cause the absence is a privation which cannot enter into the essence of a reall thing, such as Time is. And therefore the time past is not past, in that it is absent, but its absent for that its past. Whence you may judge that the absence is but an accident which happens to Time; and that consequently, the Imagination may know the time past, without knowing it to be absent, since the time past is to be known by its true difference, which ought to be re∣al and not privative.

But it may be demanded what the difference is, which may come to the knowledge of the Imagina∣tion? Certainly, if Time is the successive durance of motion, or to observe the terms of the Schools, if it be the number and destinction of the parts of motion, as that some flow before and others after∣wards, its certain that the number of the parts of

motion which flow first makes the difference of the time past; Now there is nothing herein which the Imagination may not know; for the distinction and the effective number of things which are sensible may be known by the Senses; So the Senses may know three Men, three Horses, because Man and Horse are sensible things. If it be therefore true that motion is sensible, as M. C. avows, the number of motion ought to be so too; and if the Senses cannot know the motion without knowing the precedent parts, because Motion speaks Succession; and who speaks Succession supposeth something which prece∣ded; of Necessity, the Senses must know the parts which have flown, and must therfore know the num∣ber of the parts of motion, which did flow before the rest. Now this is to know the Time past. With∣out doubt M.C. did not consider the wrong he did his own cause, when the truth forced him to confess that Sense knew Motion; neither did he foresee the reason and the consequence which we have now drawn from thence: But to give him sa∣tisfaction in some other thing, I shall grant him, that absence is a privation and a negation of a being, so as he will remember the distinction we pro∣duced, pag. 72. where we said there were direct and oblique negations. For by this means we may both be satisfied, he to find the proposition which he hath produced to be true for direct negations which cannot be known by the Imagination; and I to have shewed that oblique Negations may at least by accident be thereby known. Thus we may to∣gether judge, that the Imagination knows not the absence and the privation which happens to Time

past; But it knows the Time past deprived of the absent thing, to wit of the Time present. And that by separating the image of the present, with that of the time which is run away, it by accident knows, that is to say by this separation, that the time past is distinct and separate from the present, and that consequently it is not present; That in fine it forms an image of that oblique absence, for as much as the separation is a modification of the images, and that this modification passeth for an image, since it represents the thing separate, as we have more amply shewen in the 73 and 74 pages:

M. C's. second is, That the differences of time as abstracted or joyned with the things have no material image which can represent them to the Imagination; and that as a Man can never say that the eyes see a soul, although joyned with the body, because the soul hath no image to joyn with that of the body, its the same with the differences of time.

All this Discourse is but a Paralogism which sup∣poseth what is in question, and compares things which are of several genders, and have nothing common amongst them: The differences of time are sensible, since motion is sensible, and that the number of things which are sensible is also sensible. Now the number of motion makes the differences of time, and therefore the differences of time are sensible; and consequently they have material images, since they cannot be sensible without having some kind of images; so that the Soul which is not sensible, ought not, nor cannot be compared with the differences of Time which are sensible.

And M. C. could thereupon conclude no∣thing.

The Imagination may know the Time to come.

The thrid is particular for the time to come; for it imports That if the Imagination knows not the differences of time, but when then are conjunctive with the things, its impossible it should know the time to come, since it cannot know with what thing it is to be conjoyned, for as much as it ought to be present; and if it were present, the time to be conjoyned to it must also be present; Being not therefore present, it can furnish no image neither to the Memory nor to the Imagination.

Observe this for another Paralogism, which is grounded on the word Thing which M. C. under∣stands of the material & exterior object, instead that it ought to be understood of the formal object, that is to say of the image, or of the thing repre∣sented; for when we say we know the differences of time conjoyned with the things, it's as much as if we had said with the images of the things; other∣wise the Understanding it self could not know the time past, nor the future conjoyned with the things, for as much in effect, the one are no more, and the others are not yet: It's therefore true that the I∣magination cannot know the difference of the time to come, unless she have the image of the object, to which it adds this circumstance. Let not M.C. insist upon its being present, because it's present as to the actual existence, and not as to the manner

of representing. It must be truly in the Imagi∣nation to represent the thing to come, even as that of past things ought to be there, to make us re∣member that they be past.

But how can it be in the Imagination, since the object it represents is not yet, and that the copy cannot be before the original? Certainly we are not to beleeve that a thing which never was, and which hath not past through the Senses, could ever be in the Imagination, neither that it could be known as future; the Senses must formerly have made it known to make us judge that it's to come, and that to the image which the present, object furnisheth, the soul afterwards adds the circumstance of the future time. Had the A∣nimal never resented blows, he would never fear to suffer those to come; and when that happens his Imagination doth onely add the difference of the time to the image it formed thereof when it received them; or to speak home, she forms an image like to that which she hath in the Memory, and adds thereunto the circumstance of the Time to come.

There is more difficulty to say how she con∣ceives this difference of time; for although the mo∣tion be sensible, and that the number of the parts ought to be so too; it is certain that there is great reason to doubt, whether those which are not yet run, and which consequently as yet are not, may beat the Sense which is onely touched by objects which are actually present. Yet this doubt may be satisfied by saying, that the word sensible is not restrained to the exterior Senses, and that it also

marks those things which are known by the interior Senses. Now the Imagination may raise it self a∣bove the exterior Sences, and form to it self Ima∣ges, which these have not suggested. So it judg∣eth that food is good or ill, that a thing is a friend or an enemy, which are notions which the exterior Sense cannot furnish it withal, and which may be said to be sensible, since they are of the re∣sort of the sensitive Faculty. As a man therefore is assured by experience, that Animals which fear and desire, know the future; It must needs be that if the external Senses cannot afford that knowledge which in their default the Imagination supplies, and that it adds this circumstance of time to the object which they represent unto it; Which is nothing difficult for it to do, if we consider that it may re∣member it self of a past motion, and that by con∣sequence the image of that motion is preserved in the Memory. For it must then be that this image represents the flux and succession which was in this Motion, which being so, when she sees that a thing presently moves, it may figure to it self that it may continue to move; and in this continuation where∣of it may form the image, since it hath the mo∣del thereof in the Memory are comprised those parts of motion, which are to succeed, and there∣fore it may know those parts, it may therefore know the parts to come.

On the other side, if it be true, That time is no∣thing but the number of motion, as it hath parts, some whereof are before, and others after; it must of necessity be, that if the motion be sensible, as all the world agrees, Time must be so too: Since mo∣tion

cannot be known but by the parts run out and to run; now to know them so, is to know the num∣ber of the motion, is to know Time past and Time to come, and consequently the Motion cannot be sensible, but the Time must be so also. In effect, its the property of those things which are in a con∣tinual flux, that they have no part which is not past or to pass, otherwise there would be some one of them permanent, against the nature of successive things; Wherefore all the Schools constantly hold that there is nothing actually present in Time, nor in Motion, but a point or indivisible instant, which ties the past parts with those to come; and to speak exactly, there is no part of Time nor of Motion which is actually present.

But how then can the Senses know them, for they can onely be touched by what is actually pre∣sent; and there is nothing present but an instant, which being indivisible cannot be the object of the Senses. The School answers this, That the instant is not truly sensible of it self, but that it is so by ac∣cident; and that in the same manner, as the points of a line are not sensible of themselves, be∣cause they are indivisible, and are so by accident; to wit, because they bind parts which are sensible of themselves; the instant must also be sensible be∣cause it binds sensible parts; otherwise if they were not sensible, that would be no ways sen∣sible.

Let's then say, since there is nothing in Motion which is actually present but an instant, and that the instant is sensible, but by the parts of motion those parts must be sensible: Now as they cannot

be known but as successive, and that as the one goes before and the other follow after; it must neces∣sarily be that the time past and the time to come must be sensible, since the parts of motion as they go before and after, make these differences of time; and because these parts are not actually present, and consequently cannot touch the exterior Senses, its necessary the Imagination should supply their de∣fect, and that she alone should not onely know the parts of Time, but even that of Motion also, since Motion is sensible, and that there is nothing which may touch the exterior Senses.

Time is amongst sensible Objects.

But it may be said, that I lose my time to use all these reasons against M. C. Let's therefore go no further, and content our selves to take him from the astonishment wherein he is, p. 153. For that no body hath placed time amongst sensible objects, and that Aristotle was not advised to convince those by Sense who denyed the existence of Time.

For the first, he must therefore remember, that when the genders of things are observed, there is no need to specifie in particular all what is com∣prehended under them. Philosophy hath placed Number and Motion amongst the genders of sen∣sible objects, and consequently it was not necessa∣ry to place time in the same rank, since its com∣prehended in those genders, and that in effect it's nothing but the number of Motion. So that we may say, that there is no body which hath not placed Time amongst sensible objects, although

no body have placed it for a gender amongst sen∣sible objects.

As for the second, Aristotle needed not to convince those by sence who denied the existence of the time present, since he beleeved it no more then they did; and it's from him that we have learned, that in time there was nothing present, but an in∣divisible Moment, which is not truly Time: For as for the past Time and the Time to come, there never were any Philosophers which have not ac∣knowledged them, and there was therefore no need to convince them by the sense of a Truth on which they were all agreed. And although A∣ristotle proposed at the beginning of the Discourse he makes Reasons to prove that Time is nothing; yet are they not so to be taken for proofs whereon some have grounded their beleif, but for doubts which are usually made before the Truth of things be established, as his own proper terms witness, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. After all, had there been men extravagant enough to have had that thought, and that this great man had not by sense con∣vinced them, it would not follow that Time were not sensible, and M. C. who is not ignorant of the Laws of Logick, knows well that these kinde of consequences are not receiveable.

That the Imagination hath Images, of which the Senses give it no Knowledge.

We must here forget a fourth Reason produced by M.C. against the time past; although he hath unloosed it from the pursuit of the precedents. He

then says, Page 154. That the Sensitive Memory hath no Images but those which it hath received by the Senses, when the Object was present. So that never having had any of the Time when it was present, it cannot get those of the future.

It is pitty this Reason should not be good, having so fair an appearance; but by mischance it happens that all it's propositions are false. For, for the first, Animals may remember Dreams and Chimera's which they formed in their sleep in the absence of objects. And as they are different from the things which the Senses have represented unto them, it follows that the Memory wherein they preserved themselves, hath other Images then those which it did receive by the Senses when the object was present. On the other side, the modification of Images which depends from the Actions of the Imagination, such as are Union, Separation, and the like, are not furnished for the exterior Senses, in the mean while they form themselves in the ab∣sence of exterior objects, and afterwards preserve themselves in the Memory.

In fine, Beasts remember whether things are good or evill, friends or foes, although the Sen∣ses have not furnished them with the knowledge hereof, nor by consequence with the Images by means of which they should know them, and re∣member themselves. To rectifie therefore M.C's. Proposition we must say, That the Memory hath no Images but those it hath received from the Senses, or from the Imagination which may form them in the ab∣sence of objects, the Sense contributing nothing there∣unto.

But in this case his second Proposition is absolutely false, and quite useless to our design; for the Memory may receive the Image of the pre∣sent time, which the Imagination may have formed, although even it were not true, that sense knows this difference of time; thus the Memory may have an image of the time past, since the Imagination fur∣nisheth it with that of the present. Without doubt he will tell me, That Memory is onely for past things, and therefore that the present hath no place in it, otherwise it must at once be present and past. But there is no inconvenience therein since it's past as to the exterior object, and that it's present as to the Representation; Forasmuch as the images of the things which the Imagination hath known pre∣sent enter into the Memory with that circumstance of time, and this now represents them as present, although in effect they are past. And the soul must afterwards add the circumstance of the time past to remember it self that they are past. Bur we have sufficiently cleared these difficulties in our prece∣dent Discourses.

How the knowledge of Time is reserved to the Ʋnderstanding.

There remains therefore nothing but the take∣ing away of one scruple which he hath on what is said, That the knowledge of Time is one of the most subtile and most difficult that our soul is capable of, and which for that cause it was always reserved to the Ʋnderstanding.

This ought not to stop him quite, since he well

knows that the Understanding subtiliseth on all the most sensible things, and that it considers them o∣therwise then the Imagination can. The entire and perfect knowledge of time comprehends many diffi∣culties, which cannot be decided but by it; and af∣ter having learnt of the Senses that time is some∣what, it's the onely one that can explicate what it is, and how far it can know it: For you are not to imagine when we say that the Imagination knows the time to come, that it knows the future through all its extent, nor all kind of things which are to come. This ought not to be understood but of those which the present object bring back to the Memory, and which she figures to herself ought quickly to arrive; as we may judge by the passi∣ons in which Animals have need of this knowledge. So when we assure that time is sensible, we under∣take not once the Office or Function of the Un∣derstanding; and to give to the Senses this small knowledge, we diminish neither the great∣ness nor the elevation it affords its own, which we confess with M. C. to be one of the most subtile and most difficult of which it is ca∣pable.

After this M.C. concludes, p. 154. That Sense suffi∣ciently knows the motion which is made in the pre∣sent Time, but it knows not the Time wherein its made; otherwise there would be a sensible knowledge, which could not be made by the entermixion of Images. 2. That the Images of what is past are truly pre∣served in the Memory: but that that represents not that it is no more, because they cannot represent a negation of being. That in fine its a certain mark

that the Imagination takes no consideration of the time, for that the images of a past ill produce the same effect upon it, as if it were present.

Although all this Discourse be but a repetition of the Reasons which M. C. hath here before pro∣posed, and that we have already fully answered them: Yet because he hath often taken my silence for a conviction, and that he hath beleeved in se∣veral places, wherein I would not amuse my self, for that they did not deserve an answer, he had re∣duced me to an inability of answering him; I must not stay here without a Reply, and I ought at least to make him remember cases already judged. For we have shewed, 1. That the Imagination might form Images, which the exterior Senses could not furnish it withal; that the knowledge which followed those images was sensible, since it proceeded from a sensitive faculty, and therefore that there was no inconvenience, that there might be a sensible knowledge, which need not be from the intermission of species from without.

2. That the Imagination might represent to it self oblique Negations, and that that was suffici∣ent to know that the objects were no more.

3. That all the differences of Time were sen∣sible, and that even the present was so at least by accident, whether this knowledge were proper to the internal Senses, or whether it were made by the exterior Senses. In fine, that the Images of several differences of time might be preserved to∣gether in the Memory, and that the Imagination might consider them the one after the other, that

thus the past ill might be considered as present or as future; and that where it caused the same effects it had caused being present or to come, it was no longer as past, but as present or as to come.

Having taken away all these difficulties which stopt M.C. touching the knowledge which the Ima∣gination hath of things present and to come: Its seems there is nothing more which can be opposed to the reason we have deduced from the Custom and instruction which we give to Beasts: For since present threats make them remember the blows they received with their first lessons, and that the remembrance of those blows which are past makes them fear those to come, the Imagination must needs unite the Image of the threat with that of the blows which they have received, and in pursuit, that they joyn the image of those blows, with those others which they apprehend.

And truly I expect from M. C. ingenuity, that after having maturely considered all these things, he will finde some confusion in his Mind for have∣ing so lightly condemned me of error and artifice in the most part of my Reasons; for he saith at the entrance of the Examen which he makes of the pre∣cedent, That there is not in it the least appearance of Truth, and that whereas I do in some other rea∣sonings insinuating errors by the means of some Truths; herein I have not used that artifice, but fight onely with Arguments in which there is not one true Proposition to be found.

What! Is it not true then, that Beasts remem∣ber the good and evil that's past? Is it not true, that they desire, and that they fear those which are

to come? Is it not true, that the presence of cer∣tain objects, having replaced in their Memories those which they have formerly received, makes them afterwards fear the like? What will it be thought to conclude ill, that since they do all these things, their imagination must go from the one to the other, that it must unite images, and that it must form as many propositions as it makes unions? For my part, I must clearly confess to M. C. that if those who shall be Judges of our differences can be of his opinion, I will set my self to write as false against Philosophy, against Reason, and against Sense, and I will abandon them all as deceivers, which have abused us, and that instead of serving us as instruments for the knowledg of the Truth, they corrupt it and hide it from us.

But without running to these extremities into which there is no likelihood I should ever fall, M.C. is to be excused of the ill opinion which he conceived against my first Work: I will indeed deal more civilly with him then he hath done with me; and that I may not altogether condemn him, I must confess that he may have found in my dis∣course such defects as may have ingaged him to that sense, I having obliged my self to render them the shortest I could possibly; there are many places wherein I suppose certain knowledges which must be had from elsewhere, or my Ratiocinations would be must streightned; and in which I do but cast the seeds of a great many inductions, which may be drawn from them. And without doubt that briefness did hide from M. C's eyes the greatest part of the evidence and force of my rea∣sons,

and hath made Truths appear unto him as er∣rors, and order as the subtilties of a Sophist. But I ought also to beleeve, that after having corrected my self for those defects, and having taken away all those obscurities which he met withal by long ex∣plications, he will no longer accompt, as they say, Truth for Injustice, but will ingeniously confess that he hath maintained an ill cause; at least, that I have not ill defended mine, and that my proposi∣tions are not so erroneous, nor extravagant, as he fancied them.

To wit, whether without Ratiocination the Images of the Memory move the Imagination as if the objects were present.

To continue therefore the design I have begun, I shall advertise him, That he should not abuse himself with the experiences he here produceth, since they are neither for him, nor against him. In effect, when he says that by them he will prove, That without reasoning the Images of the Memory move the Imagination in the same manner, as if the objects were present; What can he thence con∣clude to my prejudice? Should I grant all those experiences, they are but particular facts, which hinder not but that there may be others wherein the Imagination confers the present with the past, and from thence draws consequences for the future. Besides, that its easie to make it appear, that in most part of those, he produceth the Imagination makes the same progress. For when a Child cryes seeing an object like to that which formerly had hurt it, it is

fear doubtless which makes him cry. Now this passion supposeth an evil to come, and therefore the present object makes that Childe remember the evill it suffered, and afterwards causeth it to fear the like: And when it rejoyceth at the sight of the Nurses Breast, if it be from the desire and hope of sucking, his Imagination doth the self same thing. If there be onely the remembrance of the past pleasure which rejoyceth it, it's a fact no more like ours, since it respects but the present and the past; and that in instruction the Mind considers not onely present and past objects, but even those which are to come. Its even so when the remem∣brance of a good tale makes us laugh, or when the encounter of a person who hath done us ill, gives us a sence of aversion, because therein there is no express consideration of the future. Yet let not M.C. for this imagine, that I beleeve the Imagi∣nation reasons not in these passions, although it confers not the past with the future; it hath other means then that to reason; and if he will well consi∣der the last of my Reasons which after this, I shall explicate, he will see That the Appetite is never moved but in pursuit of some Ratiocina∣tion.

As for the example of Cassander, Who without shaking could not look upon the Statue of Alexan∣der; It's certain, that this proceeded from the fear which the remembrance of that Princes anger mo∣ved in his mind, and that he then represented to himself the danger he was in at that time when Alexander was angry with him. That's to say, he still considered it as ready to come. It therefore

from thence follows not that the Ratiocination he made in these encounters was like that which is to be found in the instruction of Beasts. When these hear a threat like to that which they have formerly heard, and which was followed with blows, they ought rightly to think, that since such a thing for∣merly caused their ill, that which presents it self be∣ing like it, ought also to cause them the like ill. But there is nothing in the example of Cassander which relates to this. Alexanders Statue hath not that resemblance which was necessary to oblige him to conclude after that manner; it must have been that that must have been angry, that must have threatned, and that must have been capable to have done him harm; in this case he had had rea∣son to think, that since Alexander had formerly done him ill, this Statue being like him ought also to cause the same ill. In fine, in the instruction of Beasts there is always two alike causes, that which is past, whose effect is also past; and that which is present, whose effect is to come; and both the one and the other enter into the discourse which the Imagination makes. But here there is onely the past cause which comes back to the Memory; and al∣though the Statue be present, it enters not into the Ratiocination of Cassander, it onely awakens the Notions which compose it. M.C. hath therefore very ill taken his measures when he compares these two reasonings together, and very wrongfully en∣deavors to oblige us to beleeve, That that of Beasts is not made as we have said, because we do not beleeve that Cassanders was so made.

What he adds of the Scythian slaves, who after

having overcome their Masters in several battels, were at last routed at sight of the whips, which were shewed unto them, when they were ready to re∣ingage. It is so far from prejudicing my proposi∣tion, that it confirms it, and supposeth that beasts use the same form of reasoning when they are in∣structed: For it's certain that this surprise made them fear, and that this fear was grounded on the ill to come, by the remembrance which those rods gave them, that their Masters had formerly cha∣stised them therewith. So that they judged it fit, that since those rods wherewith their Masters were armed, were like those with which they had for∣merly been beaten, they ought again to apprehend from them the like effect. And M. C. vainly la∣bours to destroy this Discourse, when he says, That if they had had the leasure to reason and confer all these things, they had never bin so frighted, and that the first reasonings they made was to condemn their first motions which are not submitted to reason. For besides that there needed but a moment for all this, he according to his custom confounds intellectual Reason with that of the Imagination, as we have shewed him elsewhere. And there needed no other answer for those panick fears, since he says, That it is the same as of what happened to these Slaves. But I will add that since it's the same thing, it follows that they are the effects of a true Syllogism; And that as the Ratiocination which these slaves made was apparently good, and had no proposition which was evidenly false, it must of necessity be if what M. C. say be true, that it must be the same with that which devanceth all other panick terrors.

Let him no more object the Syllogism he makes Cassander make, that mans fear will never strengthen his party, as we have now shewed; and if he would beleeve me, he ought to ask help from some other Captain who is more bold then this.

From all these rare experiences M.C. deduceth marvellous inductions, which having already satis∣fied, we will not stay much upon them. 1. He says, That in all these encounters its neither the pre∣sent objects nor apprehensions of the future which moves the Fancy. But we have already shewed the contrary.

2. That the Images of past objects residing in the Memory, the Imagination need form no others, since those are sufficient. All our second part is imployed in consuting this proposition which destroys the na∣ture of Knowledge.

3. That Images which can onely come from pre∣sent objects, can also onely represent them but as pre∣sent, and that they canaot be again communicated to the Imagination, but they must needs move it, as they had done formerly, the same cause ever produ∣cing the same effect. And that from thence it follows that the absent object works on the Appetite as if it were present; and that as being present it stirs up the Appetite without imploying any discourse, it may being absent do the same thing. For this, we have made it appear that there are modifications which the soul adds to the images, which it receives from present objects. That the differences of time are of that kind, and that so a present object may be considered both as past and as to come; Whence

it follows that one of these Images being again communicated to the Imagination may move the Appetite after another manner, then when at the first it entred into the Mind. And that afterwards it cannot pass for one and the same cause, since its diversified by a new circumstance.

As for his first Proposition which imports, That since the present object moves the Appetite without discourse the ascent may do the same thing. I shall willingly grant it him in the hypothesis of the time we are in, so as the object be onely known as present or absent; For if the Imagination goes from the one to the other, and chiefly if it draws consequences from it for the future, we cannot doubt but the present and absent object must move the Appetite by means of the discortses which in these encounters the Imagination makes. Now it is certain that in all the examples which he hath pro∣posed the Soul makes a progress from one differ∣ence of time to another and therefore she reasons; and therefore all M.C's. induction is vain.

But wherefore do we so long insist on those things which we have elsewhere decided, and what can we do in repeating them so often, but as often we must afflict M.C. with the remembrance of his first defea••? Yet this is not generously to overcome him; we must spare shaming a vanquished enemy, and not use him ill when he hath given up his arms. Let us therefore pass to other matters, and without speaking any more of all these differences of time wherein M C. hath lost himself, let us see whe∣ther what he hath said of the Custom may repair his losses, and whether it destroys any of my propo∣sitions.

Of Custom, and that it cannot be acquired without Reason.

It is true that I have said, That if one could do such things which one were accustomed unto, with∣out using reason; yet it's impossible to accustom ones self thereunto without the use of reason. And that those who say that Beasts do things out of custom, tacitly confess that they are reasonable. To prove this, I have supposed that Memory was necessary to accustom ones self to do any thing and that to reiterate the same actions one must remem∣ber ones self of them, otherwise they would not be like, or at least the first would leave no disposi∣tion for the others to do better. That in fine it was an assured thing that in the common and ordi∣nary actions which beasts by custom do, they at first remember themselves of the good or ill which hath happened to them for having done them, and that without that they could not afterwards have accustomed themselves to have done them again; On these foundations I have concluded that on this occasion they have the same necessity of reasoning which they have when they are instructed, because they must needs unite the images of the present ob∣jects with that of past things, of which they re∣member themselves, and from thence they draw consequences for the future.

Against all these Truths M. C. opposeth two things, the one at the end of his 17. Chapter, whereby he pretends to shew, That Memory is not necessary for all kinds of habits; the other is at the

head of the same Chapter, where he imploys a many examples to prove, That we accustom our selves to several things whereto Reason can no way serve.

Had I to do with a man who were content with a few words, I would in two words tell him, that all this makes nothing against me, and is contrary to his own sense; That I speak of the Custom of Beasts which requires the assistance of Memory, and where∣in M. C. confesseth himself that it is necessary. And that without stopping at the rest, its suffici∣ent for me that there may be any one found which may be acquired without it; Since that alone may maintain the induction which I made, and prove that Beasts reason, at least on this occasion. But because its a man who loves contests, and seeks a noise, I shall sally out of my trenches, and enter the Lists with him, were it but as they say for the Ladies.

Let us then see what the first assault will be: After having related what I have said concerning Custom; to wit, that it's formed by several acti∣ons which leave in the powers a certain facility of operating. And that this facility consists either in a quality which resides in the organs, or in a more perfect knowledge which the soul may have acqui∣red by more express images, which afterwards makes the stronger impression on the Appetite, and on the motive vertue of the parts: and that its in∣different to me how the thing be done, so as we know that the memory is necessary thereunto.

He adds, That he findes almost nothing to gain-say in all that Discourse. And for my part, I also

find nothing to gain-say but that he therein makes me speak barbarously; For although I do not h••ed his manner of speaking; yet I cannot suffer him to give himself the liberty to change mine; and as the purity of language is the onely thing which he esteems in my Discourse, I shall have a very great care to preserve it, since it hath had the honour to merit his approbation. Howsoever I am not so well pleased with his discourse as he is with mine; for there is not one onely proposition which I will not undertake to gain-say. 1. When he avers That its as indifferent to him as to me what sense is had of Custom, for if it be swelled species, &c. He confounds the facility of operating with the Custom, without remembring th••t Custom makes Facility; and that the Question is not so much what that of Custom is, but to know what that of Facility is. On the other side how can he say That its indifferent to him, since presently after its no longer indifferent to him, having sided with speculative and practical habits.

2. He adds, That if it be a Species swoln in the Memory with several knowledges, it may be acqui∣red by simple conceptions without reasoning, &c. The Question here is not of Reasoning, but to know whether Memory be not necessary to Custom. Thus against all the Rules of Logick he anticipates his Answers, and so runs to the Conclusion, with∣out satisfying the first Propositions. Besides that, if this thickned Species in the Memory may be ac∣quired without discourse, all Speculative Habits which he placeth in that gender, must needs be ac∣quired without discourse; on the other side, who

can oblige to place the nature of speculative habits in their images; for after that he must maintain, That all Habits are onely in the Memory, since these images are nowhere else preserved: I omit all other inconveniencies which follow this opini∣on, and what M. C. says in pursuit of the acts because it matters nothing to our dispute.

To wit, whether Memory is necessary to all sorts of Habits.

Let us now observe the examples he proposeth to shew that Memory is not necessary for all kinds of Habits: The first is of Children whose hands are held to teach them to write; for using to conduct them thus the habit it imprinted in them to conform themselves to the characters they see, and this custom is acquired without the Memories contributing any thing thereunto. Its what he ought to prove, for in fine children have a Memory, and it is not so easie to perswade ones self that they should so often do the same action without remembring it. But what! says he, Children form themselves to certain customs, before they have the use of Memory. It's what I shall deny him; they have indeed a weak one, but yet it's true that they use it, and that when objects strongly touch it, they remember very well, as M C. himself hath made it appear, p. 148

The second is of Porters, whose Memory is useless to them to accustom them to carry heavy burdens, be∣cause, saith he, this strength which is but a habit would remain when even they had lost their Memories.

M.C. confounds here the habit of bearing bur∣dens with strength, although they be two very dif∣ferent things; such a man may have the one and

want the other, Porters may well have them both, but they have them by several ways; strength comes to them from Nature, and habit comes from Custom; on the other side, strength is not in the rank of habits unless we should speak improperly, but it's a natural power which affords a man the vertue of acting, which habit doth not. But were it a habit, and that it might remain in a Porter af∣ter the loss of his Memory, what induction could he thence draw against me; for I never said that when a man had acquired a habit or a custom, he had need of Memory, but only that it was necessary for him to acquire it; and for that cause that Animals cannot acustom themselves to whatsoever it be without the help of Reason and of Memory, al∣though it may be that they may afterwards without it do those things which they accustomed them∣selves unto. Yet for all this, I do not cease to be∣lieve but that all true habits have need of Memory; and that who ever should lose it, would also lose the use of all other habits he hath acquired, how perfect soever they were. But since I did not ex∣plicate my self thereupon, why will M. C. di∣vine my thought and find inconveniences in things which I never yet said? Yet do I not insist hereup∣on, since he at last remits himself to Reason and confesseth, (pag 159) That this faculty is necessa∣ry for several actions which Beasts perform, and the good and ill which happens to them, remains in their Memory, and afterwards obligeth them to reject the same actions; for although he denies, that it is on the hope or fear that the same good or the same ill might happen unto them; It is very likely that

after he hath seen the Reasons which we have used to maintain this truth, he will presently yeeld up the Cudgels. For my part, I find the proceedings therein held very equitable, and I very much approve the prudence he had, to expect till I had evidently made him see that Beasts fear and hope, and that they confer the time past with the future, before he oblige himself to beleeve it. I even maintain that in the quality which he here takes of a Defender, he might in conscience say, That there was no Ratioci∣nation therein without being obliged to produce Rea∣sons to the contrary. And that if he did so, it was as he says, Superabundance of right, and out of pure zeal which he had for the Truth; But also this same prudence and this same zeal engage him to change his opinion, now he hath wherewithal to satisfie his doubts, and those things which were ob∣scure unto him now present themselves clear and e∣vident. It's an advice which I give him for his own sake; for he may well think that it concerns not me, and that what part soever he takes, my cause will nei∣ther be better nor worse.

To wit, Whether one may accustom ones self to some things without Reasoning.

Let us examine the other point, where by new examples he would shew, That we accustom our selves to several things whereto reason is nothing serviceable. For it is here that he triumphs and flat∣ters himself with the advantage he thinks he hath over me, for that I had not answered to those he had formerly proposed on the same subject; I con∣fess

I did not answer to them because I ought not to have done it. And M. C. wrongs himself to make use of it, since 'tis a mark wherein he beleeves the decisive point of the question we have in hand is, without perceiving that its therein altogether useless. Nay I shall repeat it again. I pretend to speak onely of custom and habits in which he him∣self says, that Memory is necessary; and it's suf∣ficient for me if Animals have some one of that Nature, to conclude that they could not have ac∣quired them without reasoning, since they must have conferred the present objects with those which were past and those which were to come, as we have said. So that if there were others in which this progress is not made, in good time be it; as I hinder him not, so it also hinders not my conse∣quence from being good and true.

But what, all these few Observations he hath made must they lye on his hands, without his drawing any advantage from them? no indeed, how slight soever they be, we must disburthen him of them, and at the same time shew him for what they may be good. Which I will not do as he doth out of superabundance of right, since it matters no∣thing to our question, but out of the onely desire which I have to make him know the truth But we must first bring them to light that the Reader may know what we are upon, and that he may give judgment from the knowledge of the cause.

The first is, Of Children, who accustom them∣selves to several things before they have the use of Reason. The second is, From the stomack which accustoms it self to certain means, and which regu∣lates

its hunger at certain hours. The third is, Of the Liver, which accustoms it self to make the more blood, the oftener we are let blood. The fourth is, Of the fluxious which accustom themselves to fall on certain parts. The fifth is, Of the external Senses which acquire habits, some persons having been found who have accustomed themselves to the taste of Woormwood, and to the smell of stinking things &c. The sixth is, From the common Sense which takes a custom of sleeping and waking at regulated hours. The seventh, the eighth and the ninth is, From the Memory. from the Appetite, and from the motive vertue which acquires habits; from all this he con∣cludes, that it not necessary to accustom ones self to any thing, to make use of reason. Since there is not one of these things which he hath proposed, which is reasonable, nor any of their effects wherein reason appears.

First when he says, That reason herein is not necessa∣ry he intends intellectual Reason, since he acknow∣ledgeth none other; and in that sense I grant him all what he says; but our difference is not therein; it con∣sists to know whether the Imagination reasons not in these encounters. In the second place, he im∣ploys the word Custom, without observing the se∣veral significations it hath, and indifferently ap∣plies it to several things, without telling us that it properly belongs to the one, and improperly to others, which yet were necessary to induce what he pretends; for I have reason to retort all his ex∣amples, in which this word hath not its true and proper signification. M C. should have remem∣bred that Custom and Habit are active disposi∣tions,

and cannot be properly applyed to passives, wherefore when they say, That a Man accustoms himself to heat and cold that the stomack accustoms it self to certain meats, that some have accustom∣ed themselves to finde the taste of Woormwood plea∣sant, &c. This word hath not therein its natural signification, because that in all these kinds of speaking we mean nothing else but that we ac∣custom our selves to suffer those objects, and that the facility we finde therein is a pure, material and passive disposition, which the use of these things hath left in the organs.

In effect, we accustom our selves to heat, be∣cause the impression of heat remains in the parts, and makes that what comes afterwards operates not so powerfully on the body, which is already imbued with that quality. It's the same with odors, favors, and other sensible objects; which by means of striking the Senses, leave a certain character in them, which renders the organs most like the ob∣jects, and the objects more familiar to the organs; There is not therefore therein a true custom; No more then when we say, that a fluxion is accustom∣ed to fall on some place; for 'tis but a passive dis∣position which comes from the weakness of the parts which cannot resist the over-flowings of the humors which cast themselves on them. Add That it is not the flux which accustoms it self; for that which is fallen never falls again; But it is nature which commonly dischargeth it self on the weakest parts, or rather its those same parts which out of weakness are more capable to receive those super∣fluities wiich they receive from elsewhere. How∣ever

it be, these are manners of speaking which are good for the people and not for Philosophers. And besides its in that rank you must place, The custom which the Liver takes to make the more blood in those who are often let blood. For the Liver hath no more fa∣cility in making of it then, then when a man is sel∣dom let blood. But 'tis by this evacuation that the parts empty themselves, and that Nature labors to make the more blood to fill them. In fine, as we ne∣ver say, that there is a true Custom or any Habit in the seasons, and in other inanimate things; although we say that the Winter is accustomed to be rainy, that the earth is accustomed to be fertile in such pla∣ces, &c. We must beleeve, that when we use these kind of speeches for the natural actions of the body its figuratively, or by an abuse; and that a man who cannot distinguish these things deserves not to enter into the secrets of Nature, nor to take place amongst Philosophers.

After all this, if M.C. would opiniaster himself to maintain that there is a true custom in all those observations which he produceth; Could we not tell him, that as they are all taken from Animals, they leave the suspition that the Imagination con∣curs thereunto; and that therefore they are not performed without the Ratiocination of that Facul∣ty. Certainly to have taken away all cause of doubt, he should have made use of examples drawn from insensible things, as Stones, Plants, &c. Then there had been no more difficulty, & we should have been constrained to confess, that Custom needs not the help of the Memory and of Reason. But since all these parts which he says accustomed themselves to

certain things, are indewed with sense, and that everywhere, where there is sense the Imagination must agitate. Are we not to beleeve that they have accustomed themselves thereunto by Knowledge, and that the images which form this Knowledge preserve themselves in the Memory, and make the soul remember the first actions, that it may after∣wards perform the like, whence at last comes faci∣lity and habit? No, let not M.C. deceive himself, the Imagination and the Memory agitate not alone in the Head. Although they recide there as in their Throne, and there perform their most consi∣derable actions, they spread themselves through all the sensible parts, and perform often operations of which they give no knowledge to this principal organ, and therein imitate Princes, who act many things in the several parts of the State without com∣municating ought to their counsel. It's thus that so many sentiments are made in the Members with∣out our preception: It's thus, that the Memories remains in the fingers of a Luthenest after he hath forgot all his peeces. It's thus that the vertue for∣matrix forms the images it hath received from the Imagination, when it imprints those wonderful marks on the bodies of children during the wo∣mens being with child, they neither knowing nor remembring themselves thereof. But we reserve to the third Volume of our Characters which we are about to publish, the full discovery of this truth. In the mean time let's conclude this unpro∣fitable Examen of M: C's. examples, since we agree to what he intends to prove, to wit, That Custom may be acquired without the help of In∣tellectual

Reason. And that its very likely, that having well considered the proofs we have produ∣ced to shew that the Imagination reasons, he will also agree with us, That the custom he speaks of can never be acquired but by the Discourse of the Ima∣gination.

CHAP. V. Examen of M. C. Objections against our last proof of the Reasoning of Beasts.

THe last proof which we gave of the Reason of Beasts was, That the motion of their Appetite, which ought to preceed all the actions which they perform, is never made, without being devanced by three Propositions. The 1. That the thing is good. The Second, That it's feasible. The Third, That it must be done. And that these Propositions are linked together with common terms, and the one drawing its evidence from the other, they must form a perfect Ratiocination.

This Reason which we imployed to shew, that the actions of the Instinct are all made with Ratio∣cination pleaseth not M.C. First in that I suppose that those actions are motions of the Appetite; and he says, That he is too knowing in these matters, and too hard to be perswaded to beleeve it, without its having been proved to him; Yet for compliance

sake he will grant it, that he may make it appear, that the Appetite needs none of these Proposi∣tions.

For my part, I would not have him lose the merit of such an extraordinary civility, I here accept of the favor he doth me, at least until we come to the Examen of the Instinct; for I then hope to make it evidently appear, not that these Actions are motions of the Appetite, having never proposed that Pro∣position, but that they were preceded by the mo∣tion of the Appetite. And how difficult soever it may be to perswade, I am sure to convince him by the first notions of Philosophy, or to reduce him to that point as to deny them, and to fight against common sense. This Article remaining then in sus∣pence till that time; Let's now observe what he op∣poseth to the rest, Its sufficient, says he, if the ob∣ject he known by the first operation of the spirit to move the Appetite; for when one that is hunger∣starved sees bread, his Appetite without discourse is carried thereunto; and when we put our hands to the dish our Imagination discourseth not whether it be good. I cannot take it, I must therefore take it.

It seems, saving the respect which I owe M. C. he quits himself not well of his promise, for I there∣in see no proof which makes me know that the Ap∣petite needs none of these propositions; and doth he think it enough to destroy a thing simply to con∣tradict it without grounding it on any Reason, I said the Appetite hath need of propositions; and he answers, That its enough if the object be known by the first operation of the spirit; He should

therefore have proved it. For what he adds, That when one hungerstarved sees bread, he carries his Appetite thereto without discourse; cannot pass for a proof, since its the subject of our difference and contest. At furthest M. C. cannot disavow, that before the creature moves to any thing, it must be known unto it as good, and feasible and he must pro∣pose in himself to do it.

Thus the question reduceth it self to this point to know whether it forms these Knowledges by Propositions or by simple Notions: Now it's re∣solved by us both, That the Senses do not know things as good and feasible, because they receive no image of the goodness, or of the possibility, and that that belongs properly to the Imagination which adds these Notions to that of the senses; which for that cause are called in the Schools Spe∣cies non sensatae. If this be so, the imagination of necessity must have the image of the goodness, and of the possibility, and unite it with that of the ob∣ject to know it to be good and feasible. And con∣sequently she then makes affirmative Propositions, since to unite the Images, and make these Proposi∣tions is one and the same thing, as we have shewed in the second Part.

It's there where he may find the Reasons, which we had not inculcated in our first Work, thinking it the best way to treat with understanding per∣sons. There, I say, he shall finde them more in∣larged, more clear, and in my opinion more forci∣ble to perswade him That I did not seem to prove, that the Imagination makes affirmatives, but that in effect I have solidly proved it on the Principles and Maxims of the Schools.

Whilst he is busied in consulting this Chapter we shall here observe, Whether he hath reason to be surprised, as he saith, That I should perswade my self that these three Propositions make a Ratiocina∣tion: And whether he doth wisely To defie all the Logitians to make of it a reasonable Syllogism. First, I might answer him in a word, that I never said that these three Propositions made a Syllo∣gism, but that they made a Discourse, and a true Ratiocination. And as there are other reasonings beside the Syllogism; it's sufficient for my design if I prove that Beasts discourse, that they make a Ratiocination without making a Syllogism. But what! M. C. when he makes an Enthymema, when he makes a Sorites, doth he not reason? Yet he makes therein no Syllogism, at least which hath all the conditions necessary thereunto. On the other side, although a man cannot form an onely and simple Syllogism, of these three Propositions, yet a man may make a composed Syllogism, which is a true and perfect Syllogism. I confess that these three Propositions cannot assemble them∣selves but they must contain four terms, and that three can but enter into a simple Syllogism; but this forbids us not but we may make one of the two first Propositions, and that the last to be added need not pass for a new consequence, which joyn∣ed with the precedent would make a composed dis∣course of a Syllogism and of an Enthymema: Thus an Animal that would eat any thing may first have discoursed after this manner,

This Sweet is Good. This Good may be eaten. Then this Sweet may be eaten, Then it must be eaten.

But I will not have this to be an entire Syllogism, and that he should assemble as M C. says, the two first propositions in one, This thing is good and fea∣sible; and that he afterwards concludes Then it must be done. Will he not then make an Enthy∣mema of three propositions; for it is certain that one proposition copulative as that is, is worth a double proposition, since therein is a double union; for so these three propositions would compose a true discourse. And in this case M. C. was much in the wrong, To defie all the Logitians to make any Syllogism thereof, and to render them incapable to form a Discourse which Beasts themselves may make.

But (says he) to conclude the operation, there must be an universal Proposition made, which must affirm, That one must do all that is good and fea∣sible.

He is much mistaken; the particular connexion of goodness and possibility with the operation, is suf∣ficient without having an universal, as we shewed in speaking of that which was between the sweet∣ness and goodness of an aliment; for at last we must alwayes return thither; That the Animal knows the thing to be good, that he knows al∣so that its possible as the Schools resolves, and that upon these two knowledges he undertakes to

do it; so that if a connexion betwixt these antece∣dent notions and the operation be necessary, and that the Beasts must know it to act, it must also know it but as particular, since the Imagination cannot raise it self to the knowledge of universal things. Its therefore useless to add any general pro∣position to the Ratiocination which a Beast then hath, no more then in all the rest which M.C. pre∣tends ought to follow that.

For saith he, page 104. If we were obliged to perform this Ratiocination before we should resolve to eat any thing, we ought to make a second before we bring it to our mouthes, and so a third chewing of it; and to chew it, one must make a fourth, to cause the motion of the Muscles; and a fifth to send spirits thereunto. And so every stroke of the teeth, and every motion of the Appetite would require as many Syllogisms and universal Propositions, of which the Imagination is altogether uncapable.

Should I answer M. C. but out of universal Pro∣positions, which I do not admit in all these Rati∣ocinations, there is nothing herein but might be done; Perhaps he would be troubled to main∣tain the contrary, and it were to no purpose for him to say, that it were contrary to experience; for we should easily grant him that it is indeed con∣trary to the experience of the vulgar, but not con∣trary to the experience of Philosophers. Or ra∣ther we should say, that it is not against experi∣ence, since there is none at all in it, for as much as they are things which few persons have exactly con∣sidered; and as he speaks in one place very judi∣ciously, Books which have treated thereof furnish so

little help for the Examen of these kind of actions, that he cannot beleeve that any Philosopher hath deighned seriously to think thereon:

If this be so, how could any experience have been made hereof? and if there be no experience thereof, how can i•• be against experience? But I will not amuse my self to maintain things which I do not beleeve. In two words I shall say, That it is not necessary the Imagination should here make so many Ratiocinations as it figures to it self, or at least as he figures to himself? Let it suffice, that commonly she makes a perfect one for the principal action, which is the last she proposeth to herself. For all the rest, which serve but as means to arrive thereto, the notions she hath thereof are but as many consequences and shortned Enthymema's, which are drawn from the first conclusion; such as those are which heat and precipitation of dispute often oblige us to make in our conversations; Thus when a Dog would catch a Hare, he ought to know that its a good thing, and beleeve at the same time that he would catch it, and last of all that he must catch it; but to execute this design he knows he must run after it, that he must follow it such a way, that he must cast himself upon it, &c. So that after the first reasoning which consists of the afore∣said three Propositions; every of the other which he adds is worth an Enthymema; and of necessity he reasons so, since if he must take it, he must run af∣ter it; then he must pass such a way, and then he must cast himself on it, &c.

Yet we ought here to observe, that those actions which serve as means to attain to a principal end are

of two kinds, for some are compleat, others are im∣perfect; the compleat are made by the Members, as when the arm moves, when the hand takes, when the foot goes, &c. The imperfect are made by those parts which compose the Members, such as are the Muscles, the Nerves and the Spirits, &c. all the former come to the knowledge of the Ani∣mal which knows before he move himself, whe∣ther he ought to extend or bow a member, whe∣ther to advance or retire his foot; whether he ought to run, or onely to go, and so of the rest; But the latter are altogether unknown unto him. For the soul knows not the number of the Nerves, and of the Muscles, nor the particular use to which every of them is destined, although she never de∣ceive her self in the choice she makes of those which are to be imployed, which is one of the greatest marvels which is to be found in the Ani∣mal, as we shall shew in the second part of this Work. This being supposed, we say that com∣pleat actions which serve as means to one principal end are made onely by Enthymema's; but that the imperfect require none, because the Imagination hath no knowledge of them, and we must therefore r••ce out of the number of Syllogisms, which M.C: al∣ledges, those which respect the motion of the Muscles and Spirits. On the contrary, whatever we have said, that the Imagination makes no perfect discourses, but for the principal action, tis to be understood when the means are easie, and that they have no difficul∣ty or other circumstance which deserves to stop the soul from considering it; it otherwise makes the same discourses for them, as for the principal action,

as it happens in three Experiences which we have produced at the beginning of this Chapter. Thus when the Dog sees that the course is not sufficient to catch the prey, he useth slight; if he finds a stop in the way he considers, and seeks the means to surmount it; and amongst all this, the remembrance of past things, and the expectation of those to come, occupy his Imagination, and make him make at every moment the discourses which we have be∣fore mentioned.

In fine, We must judge of all this progress in proportion to what passeth in our Minds, when we form any design and endeavour to execute it. For besides abstractions and universal propositions which are proper to the Understanding, the Ima∣gination operates even as that doth. And as there are entire Ratiocinations which we make to under∣take a thing, as amongst the means which present themselves to attain it, there are some which stop us, and others which are so evident, and so easie that we make use of them without examination: And as all this is commonly done so readily that it seems there are but moments imployed therein. We must also beleeve, for the Reasons which we have so of∣ten alleadged, That Beasts act in the same manner in those designs which they undertake.

And now I beleeve M.C. will be glad to have learnt that he is twice more reasonable then he thought, and that his imagination makes a number of reasonings, of which he was not yet awares. For how ready soever the hand be to write, and the tongue to pronounce what it would express; His Imagination still goes as fast as that, and beyond

all the leasure that is necessary for him by those Ratiocinations which we have mentioned, to go be∣fore the motion of these organs. We may say its like a Painter who in a moment forms the Idea of what he would paint; but when he sets his hand to the work, he must have days and whole weeks. Writing and Speech indeed ask not so much time, but still there is an infinite distance betwixt the swiftness of the Imagination, and that of the Hand and Tongue, since that is to be done without any time, and this is ever done with time.

For the rest, I would willingly consolate M.C. Of the shame he had to stop at things so far from all appearance of Truth, were I certain of what things he intended to speak; for I know not whether they are Objections which he makes me, or the propo∣sitions which I proposed which have made him a∣shamed, the one and the other being able to lead him into confusion; in any case he ought to know that the shame to have failed is very good, but that which a man hath to learn is very bad; Let's there∣fore go on since this passion also hath that proper∣ty that she will not be spoken of.

To wit, Whether Animals doubt.

In confirmation of what I have said, That it was necessary that three Propositions in question must precede the motions of the Appetite, I have pro∣duced the example of Dogs, and Birds of prey, which often pursue not the game they see, when they judge it to be too far off. I have also pro∣posed that sometimes they seem to doubt, and are

apparently in trouble to resolve whether they ought to pursue it or no; and that in these encoun∣ters although the thing appear unto them good, yet because they judge it not feasible they under∣take it not; the operation which is the conclusion being not to be done without one of the propositi∣ons, as it happens in all true Syllogisms.

To this M.C. opposeth first, That if their doubt be but in appearance, its not just to make use of it against him; if it be true, it follows that Beasts de∣liberate.

But I answer, That he here corrupts my words and gives them another sense then they ought to have; There is a great deal of difference to say that Beasts seem to doubt, or that apparently they have some doubt; and to say that their doubt is but in appearance; the first way of expression ex∣cludes not the doubt, but the second doth. And we may say of a man who is truly in wrath, that he seems to be in wrath, and that apparently he is angry. If it be then true, that Beasts are capable of doubting, as we shall make it appear, they may in effect doubt, without our being assured thereof, because we cannot clearly know their thought; but by actions they perform we conjecture that they doubt. And then we have reason to say that ap∣parently they doubt, that is to say, That they ap∣pear to us to doubt: But not that their doubt is but in appearance, because it may happen they doubt in effect, and that a thing which is but in appearance is not really.

But let us stick no longer in words, let us exa∣mine things, and see what the Nature of doubt is;

for after that we may clearly perceive, whether Beasts are capable of forming it. Aristotle says very elegantly, that he who doubts is like to a man bound, because both the one and the other are re∣strained, and cannot go whether they will; this cannot advance forward in his way, and that can∣not make any progress in his knowledge. In ef∣fect, when he findes that the objects are not clear∣ly represented unto him, when he sees reasons and appearances contrary concerning the same thing; they are as many chains which stop him & hold him in suspence that he knows not which side to take; and whilst he remains in this neutrality, so long time he doubts, and is not assured of what he seeks. For which cause we may call Doubt a suspension of judgement which cannot determine on the things pro∣pesed unto it. Now because that to judge is to unite or divide images; this suspention cannot be con∣ceived but as a restraint which the judicative facul∣ty imposeth on it self in its function, the difficulty and uncertainty wherein she is, not permitting her to unite or separate those images which she hath formed. Yet must we not figure to our selves this restraint to be as a cessation or rest; otherwise who∣soever would not know the things, and whose spi∣rit were dull and without action, might pass for a man who were in doubt. But it is to be considered as a motion by which the Mind restrains it self, and suffers not it self to be born away whereto it had a design to go. This is to be judged of proporti∣onably to what happens to bodies that are heavy; when they are in their centre their weight agitates not, and they truly are at rest; but when they are

suspended in the air, although they are there re∣tained, yet they have a secret motion, and make always some endeavor to fall. It is even so with the judgment; when it seeks not the truth, its without action, it ceaseth to operate, its at rest; but when its suspended, that is to say, when it advanceth not, yet this marks also the motion it makes to attain to its end.

However it be, this suspension of the judicative faculty comes from the incertainty wherein she is, whether she ought to unite or separate the Images. And this incertainty proceeds from that it knows not whether the things are or are not in effect, as she hath proposed them to her self; But whence is it that she knows it not? Certainly, there are many causes which contribute thereunto, and we need on∣ly consult the Epoches of the Sceptick to find out that this defect hath divers sources. Sometimes it happens from that the Senses do not well represent the objects; for he that hath a weak sight, or who looks on any thing through a thick air, or at too great a distance, hath reason to doubt whether what he perceives be such in effect as his eyes figure it to be; sometimes it happens from that we have not experienced the things, or that we know not the reason thereof: So a Mathematical proposition how certain soever it be, may leave a doubt to him who never saw the demonstration; and he who hath not proved the effect of a remedy, may doubt whe∣ther what was said be true or false. But the most evident, and perhaps the most ordinary cause of this defect is, when the Mind is divided betwixt two reasons, or two contrary appearances, or be∣tween

two things altogether alike: for from thence come almost all the doubts of the Schools, and of the Politicks, and the irresolution wherein we are at every moment in our common and private acti∣ons. In effect, the way presently to determine to know whether a business be good or ill, when one findes Reasons equally strong on both sides, and when two things appear equally good, how can a man so readily resolve to chuse the most profitable or the most agreeable!

But it is not necessary to produce all the causes which cause our doubts and irresolutions; its in question here to know whether there be any of those which we have mentioned, which produceth in Animals the same effect it works in us, which restrains their Imagination, when it should either unite or separate images. In a word, which makes them doubt the things proposed unto them.

Readily to decide this Question, those who hold the negative part, must go and be instructed by that Ass so famous in the Schools, finding him∣self betwixt two measures of Oats, without be∣ing able to resolve to which of them to go, both appearing unto him equally good. For they should learn from him that in that condition he could not determine, that his Judgment was then in suspence, and consequently that he was in doubt what to do. But if they will not beleeve him, let them have re∣course to M.C. who in his considerations on Char∣ron in many places hath shewed, That the Ima∣gination of Beasts is often restrained in these actions, and that the combate which hunger and fear of be∣ing

beaten makes in their mind, is the cause that she remains unable of performance. For this restraint cannot be understood but of the impotency where∣in she is to resolve and form the practical judgment, which is the principle of operation: Now this is nothing but a suspention of judgment, its nothing but doubt, as we have before shewed.

But perhaps they require other Masters besides these, and that there is not authority enough to perswade them to this truth, should we even use that of Aristotle, who assures us that Goats are astonished when they see any of them taken by the beard. And certainly, could this be beleeved in this particular, they would be constrained to con∣fess that upon this occasion Goats must doubt, for astonishment is ever accompanied with doubt, and with suspence, as in another place we shall make it appear.

Since we must therefore treat with them by the onely strength of Reason, I would have them pre∣suppose what I have demonstrated in the second part of this Work; to wit, That Beasts judge of things; that is to say, That their imagination u∣nites and separates the images she hath formed of them. They must further agree with me, that she unites not all kind of Images, but these only which agree together; for she unites not the Notion of good with bitter, nor that of ill with sweet; no more then the design of pursuing with what is ill, or that of flying with what is good: But it joyns Sweet with Good, and adds to this the design of the pursuit; as it unites the Bitter with Ill, joyning afterwards thereunto the design of flight. She

must therefore know sweet before she can judge whether it be good, and that its good before she forms the design of the pursuit. And if she be troubled to know them, she hath the same trouble to make these resolves or judgments; for if she can∣not unite the images which appear unto it to have an agreement together, how can she know the a∣greement betwixt good that which is sweet, if she assuredly know not the sweet? How can she re∣solve to pursue the good, unless she certainly know what is good? In these encounters therefore she must suspend her judgment; that is to say, she must stay to unite the images she hath formed un∣till she be assured in her knowledge; for when an object is very far off, the Animal draws nearer, the better to discern it; he smels and tastes the food be∣fore he eats it, and although it appear good to him, the fear of being beaten restrains him: He is not therefore assured in any of these knowledges; o∣therwise he would not draw nearer the better to see the object; he would content himself with the sight to judge of its goodness, without making use of the smel or of the taste; And fear would not hinder his design of taking it; so that if he is not assured of these things, his imagination cannot unite the Images of them, and therefore she contains herself self and suspends her judgment; in a word, she doubts.

Certainly there is no reasonable person who will not consent to all these truths, after having consi∣dered what Beasts do; when they see or when they hear any thing which they cannot well discern, they stay, they open their eyes and their ears, and are at∣tentive

to discover what in effect it is; for all these actions are assured marks that they doubt, and that they would assure themselves of what they do not clearly know. And of a truth, if they knew the thing to be good or ill, they would not at all stop at it, they would continue their way, did they think it good, and would flye from it if they thought it ill. But they retain themselves because their Imagi∣nation suspends its judgment and doubts whether the thing be good or ill, whether she ought to go forwards or backwards. Certainly when we see a Hare stop short at the least noise it hears, that it lifts up the head, pricks up the ears, and looks every way about it, we may assure our selves that its in trouble to know who made the noise, and that until it perceives the Huntsman, its still in doubt of what it was, and in an irresolution of what it ought to do. Whence is't fishes strike with their tailes the bait which hangs on the hook, or strike their chops against it without swallowing it? do they not doubt of the danger which is hid there∣under? For were they altogether certain that it were, they would not absolutely come near it; and if they did also beleeve that there were none, they would be taken by the bait without any precaution.

Perhaps our adversaries will say, That these ex∣amples and an infinite of the like which may be added to these, are effects of Instinct. But were it so, it must still follow, that Beasts at least doubt by Instinct. Now it imports not here after what manner they doubt, so as in effect they do but doubt. For as the fear which Instinct gives them is a true fear; the doubt also which happens to them from that must be a true doubt.

But take from them this poor pretext, I will con∣vince them by an experience, which can have no rela∣tion to the Instinct. When a Dog sees his Master come afar off, he knows well 'tis a man, although he cannot discern what man it is, and then he looks fixedly upon him without moving; and as he draws nearer, and begins to come to some knowledge of him, he begins to wag his Tail and move his Ears, without as yet quitting his place, but as soon as he quite knows him, he suddenly gets up and runs away to caress him. For my part, I beleeve were all these circumstances rightly con∣sidered, they ought to perswade the most opini∣on after That the Dog suspends his judgment, be∣fore he hath a certain knowledge of his Master; and that he hath no way to have recourse to his In∣stinct, since Instinct is common to all the Species, and that none of the other Dogs will use those caresses which this accosts his Master withal.

It follows not that Beasts Deliberate because they Doubt.

Its then resolved that Beasts doubt. But says M.C. if it be so, it follows that they deliberate. Not at all, there is no consequence from the one to the other: He should have remembred that Delibera∣tion is onely for practical things, and not for specu∣lative, and that Doubt may meet in either of them. On the other side we never deliberate of the end, but only of the means we are to use to attain it; yet a man may doubt of the end as well as of the means. There is no necessity for Beasts to deliberate because

they doubt, since those things may be doubted in which there is no deliberation to be made.

I know that doubt often causeth men to deliberate, but had they not the liberty to chuse, what doubts soever they had, they could deliberate no more then Beasts, because Deliberation is imployed onely to chuse those means for it which seem best. Now in those things wherein the Soul is necessitated, and that it cannot do otherwise, there is no choice nor liberty, nor consequently no place for Delibe••ation.

I would willingly ask M.C. when he was in doubt of some proposition, and that after he came to grant those principles, whence its necessarily drawn, whether he deliberates to know whether he ought to approve it or no, whether he have the liberty to chuse the affirmative or the negative? Certainly should he have abused himself so highly, all the Schools would side against him and tell him, That the Understanding is necessitated to approve a de∣monstrated conclusion, that it cannot do otherwise. And that should the Will it self with all the Empire it hath over it endeavour to hinder it, it would make as vain an effort, as if it would constrain the eyes not to see those objects which were before it; how ever it is, Beasts do doubt, being uncertain of the things proposed unto them, but the certainty and resolution which they afterwards take; comes from no choice, nor from any deliberation which they make, but from a more clear knowledge which the objects afford them, which necessitates and for∣ceth them to unite or to separate the images con∣formably to their nature, to determine themselves on those points they were unresolved in: In a word,

to assure themselves of the things which they were before in doubt of.

But its to stay too long on a difficulty, which at bottom is indifferent for the matter in question; for if Beasts were not capable of doubting, the Reason which M. C. examines here, would still remain in full force, and it would still be true that Dogs and Hawks do not pursue their Game, how good soever it appear unto them, if they judge it to be out of reach. It remains now for us to observe whether he hath weakened it by any other Objection more considerable then that.

He for a second Reason adds, That Dogs often cease to pursue the Game, although it be not out of reach, their Imagination being diverted: That on the contrary they do not forbear to pursue what is too far off to be taken; and if they do stop, its either out of weariness or out of distraction, but also most commonly because that an object a far off draws not at all. I shall grant him all what he here says, excepting that adamantine vertue wherewith he beleeves objects draw the powers of the Mind; for 'tis an extravagant opinion which cannot be maintained by any reason, and which destroys the nature of Knowledg, and the principles of Philosophy.

Without lying, I wonder that so clear a spirit as is M. C's should not have perceived that all what he hath said makes nothing against what I have pro∣posed. When I said that Dogs often do not pursue their prey because they judge it too far off; and that for his part he also assures, That often they do not pursue it because their Imagination is diverted. We are nothing contrary the one to the other, and

both may have been in the right. Had I said that they never pursued their prey when it was too far off, and that the distance was the onely cause they ceased to pursue it, he would have reason to object against me, That distraction often is the cause that they do not pursue it, and even that they sometimes pursue it when its out of reach. For all this may be true, although I do not beleeve they judge it to be out of reach when they pursue it; for an Animal cannot undertake a thing without judging it pos∣sible; yet this hinders not that often also the onely knowledge of the distance is cause of their forbear∣ance. And M.C. having produced no proofs to the contrary, I see nothing that diminisheth the strength of mine, nor which obligeth me to change my opi∣nion; in effect, why should not the distance hinder a Dog from pursuing his prey, since he well knows the height of a precipice, and that that onely know∣ledge is able to retain and hinder him from throw∣ing himself down it▪ I see no difference betwixt the one and the other. And if M. C. will grant the latter, I must also yeeld to the former, and at last confess, That my Reason is good, and that he hath produced nothing to destroy it.

The End of the Third Part.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The images confound not them∣selves.
• * 1.2

  The imagination may take the one after the other, and unite them together.
• * 1.3

  Example of the Syllogism which the Imagination makes.
• * 1.4

  The Imagination goes from a known thing to an unknown.
• * 1.5

  Proof 4. Of the reason∣ing of beasts.
• * 1.6

  The Rules of Lo∣gick destroy not the Reasoning of Beasts.
• * 1.7

  That Beasts may form a gradation.
• * 1.8

  2. Poster. 1 de motu a∣nim.
• * 1.9

  That Angels Discourse.
• * 1.10

  A Syllogism which is made in an in∣stant, goes from known to un∣known things.
• * 1.11

  The terms of this Syllogism are not Uni∣versal.
• * 1.12

  VVherein Reason consists.
• * 1.13

  The return of the Ima∣gination is not a re∣flection.
• * 1.14

  Of the slights of Beasts.
• * 1.15

  Of the know∣ledge of time.
• * 1.16

  9. Hist. 1. 1. 2. q. 40.
• * 1.17

  How past things are pre∣served in the Memory,
• * 1.18

  Desire re∣spects the good to come.