I should be glad to pursue this Discourse, and shew you the whole Series of the following Truths, which I have drawn from the former: But because for this purpose, it were now necessary for me to treat of severall questions, which are controverted by the learned, with whom I have no desire to imbroil my self, I beleeve it better for me to abstain from it; and so in generall onely to discover what they are, that I may leave the wisest to judge whether it were profitable to inform the publick more particularly of them. I alwayes remained constant to my resolution, to suppose no other Principle but that which I now made use of, for the demonstration of the Existence of God, and ofthe Soul; and to receive nothing for true, which did not seem to me more clear and more certain then the demonstrations of Geometry had formerly done. And yet I dare say, that I have not onely found out the means to satisfie my self, in a short time, concerning all the principall difficulties which are usually treated in Philosophy. But that alsoIhave observed certain Laws which God hath so established in Nature, and of which he hath imprinted such notions in our Souls, that when we shall have made sufficient reflections upon them we cannot doubt but that they are exactly observed in whatsoever either is, or is done in the World. Then considering the connexion of these Laws, me thinks, I have discovercd divers Truths, more usefull and important then whateverIlearn’d before, or ever hop’d to learn.
But becauseIhave endeavoured to lay open the principall of them in a Treatise, which some considerationshinder me from publishing;Ican no way better make them known, then by relating summarily what it contains.
I had a designe to comprehend all what I thoughtIknew, beforeIwould write it, touching the nature of material things. But even as Painters, not being able equally well to represent upon aflatall the severall facies of a solid body, chuse the principall of them, which they place towards the light; and shadowing the others, make them appear no more then they do to our sight: So, fearing lestIshould not bring into this Discourse all which was in my thoughts,Ionely undertook to set forth at large my conceptions touching the light; and upon that occasion to add somewhat of the Sun, and of the fix’d Stars, by reason that it proceeds almost all from thence; of the Heavens, because they transmit it; of the Planets, of the Comets, and of the Earth, because they cause it to reflect;and in particular, of all Bodies which are on the earth, whether for that they are either coloured, or transparent, or luminous; and last of all, of Man, because he is the Spectator thereof. As also, in somemannerto shadow out all these things, and thatImight the more freely speak whatIjudg’d, without being obliged to follow, or to refute the opinions which are received amongst the Learned,Iresolved to leave all this world here to their disputes, and to speak onely of what would happen in a new one, if God now created some where in those imaginary spaces matter enough to compose it, and that he diversly and without order agitated the severall parts of this matter, so as to compose a Chaos of it as confused as the Poets could feign one: and that afterwards he did nothing but lend his ordinary concurrence to Nature, and leave her to work according to the Laws he hath established.
Thus first of allIdescribed this Matter,and endevoured to represent it such, that me thinks there is nothing in the world more clear, or more intelligible, except what was beforesaid of God, and of the Soul. For evenIexpresly supposed that there was in it none of those forms and qualities which are disputed in the Schools; nor generally any thing but that the knowledge thereof was so naturall to our understandings, that we could not even feigne to be ignorant of it. Besides, I made known what the Laws of Nature were; and without grounding my reasons on any other principles, but on the infinite perfections of God, I did endeavour to demonstrate all those which might be questioned, and to make them appear to be such, that although God had created divers worlds, there could have been none where they were not observed. AfterwardsIshewed how the greater part of the Matter of thisChaosought, according to those Laws, to dispose and order it self in a certainmanner, which would make it like our Heavens: And how some of these parts were to compose an Earth, and some Planets and Commets, some others a Sun and fix’d Starrs. And here enlarging my self on the subject of Light,Iat length explain’d what that light was, which was to be in the Sun and Stars; and thence how it travers’d in an instant the immense spaces of the Heavens, and how it reflected it self from Planets and Commets towards the Earth.Iadded also divers things touching the substance, situation, the motions, and all the several qualities of these heavens and these stars: So thatIthoughtIhad said enough to make known, That there is nothing remarkable in those of this world, which ought not, or at least could not appear altogether like to these of that world whichIdescribed.
ThenceIcame to speak particularly of the Earth; how, although I had expresly supposed, that God had placedno weight in the Matter whereof it was composed; yet all its parts exactly tended towards its center: How that there being water and air upon its superficies, the disposition of the Heavens, and of the Starrs, and chiefly of the Moon, ought to cause a floud and an ebb, which in all circumstances was like to that which we observe in our Seas; And besides, a certain course aswel of the water, as of the air, from East to West, as is also observed between the Tropicks: How the Mountains, the Seas, the Springs and Rivers might naturally be form’d therein, and Metals run in the mines, and Plants grow in the Fields, and generally all bodies be therein engendered which are call’d mixt or composed.
And amongst other things, because that next the Stars, I know nothing in the world but Fire, which produceth light, I studied to make all clearly understood which belongs to its nature; how it’s made, how it’s fed,how sometimes it hath heat onely without light, and sometimes onely light without heat; how it can introduce several colours into several bodies, and divers other qualities; how it dissolves some, and hardens others; how it can consume almost all, or convert them into ashes and smoak: and last of all, how of those ashes, by the only violence of its action, it forms glass. For this transmutation of ashes into glass, seeming to me to be as admirable as any other operation in Nature, I particularly took pleasure to describe it.
Yet would I not inferre from all these things, that this World was created after the manner I had proposed. For it is moreprobablethat God made it such as it was to be, from the beginning. But it's certain, and 'tis an opinion commonly received amongst the Divines, That the action whereby he now preserveth it, is the same with that by which he created it. So that, although at the beginninghe had given it no other form but that of a Chaos (provided, that having established the Laws of Nature, he had afforded his concurrence to it, to work as it used to do) we may beleeve (without doing wrong to the miracle of the Creation) that by that alone all things which are purely material might in time have rendred themselves such as we now see them: and their nature is far easier to conceive, when by little and little we see them brought forth so, then when we consider them quite form’d all at once.
From the description of inanimate Bodies and Plants, I pass’d to that of Animals, and particularly to that of Men. But because I had not yet knowledge enough to speak of them in the same stile as of the others; to wit, in demonstrating effects by their causes, and shewing from what seeds, and in what manner Nature ought to produce them; I contented my self to suppose, That God form’d the bodyof a Man altogether like one of ours; aswel the exteriour figure of its members, as in the interiour conformity of its organs; without framing it of other matter then of that which I had described; and without putting in it at the beginning any reasonable soul, or any other thing to serve therein for a vegetative or sensitive soul; unless he stirr’d up in his heart one of those fires without light which I had already discovered; and that I conceiv’d of no other nature but that which heats hay when its housed before it be dry, or which causes new Wines to boyl when it works upon thegrape: For examining the functions which might be consequently in this body, I exactly found all those which may be in us, without our thinking of them; and to which our soul (that is to say, that distinct part from our bodies, whose nature (as hath been said before) is onely to think) consequently doth not contribute, and which are all thesame wherein we may say unreasonable creatures resemble us. Yet could I not finde any, of those which depending from the thought, are the onely ones which belong unto us as Men; whereas I found them all afterwards, having supposed that God created a reasonable soul, and that he joyn’d it to this body, after a certain manner which I describ’d.
But that you might see how I treated this matter, I shall here present you with the explication of the motion of the heart, and of the arteries, which being the first and most general (which is observed in animals) we may thereby easily judge what we ought to think of all the rest. And that we may have the less difficulty to understand what I shall say thereof, I wish those who are not versed in Anatomy, would take the pains, before they read this, to cause the heart of some great animal which hath lungs, to be dissected; for in all of them its very like that of a Man: and thatthey may have shewn them the two cels or concavities which are there: First that on the right side, whereto two large conduits answer, to wit, thevena cava, which is the principal receptacle of bloud, and as the body of a tree, whereof all the other veins of the body are branches; and the arterious vein, which was so mis-call’d, because that in effect its an artery, which taking itsoriginefrom the heart, divides it self after being come forth, into divers branches, which every way spred themselves through the lungs. Then the other which is on the left side, whereunto in the same manner two pipes answer, which are as large, or larger then the former; to wit, the veinous artery, which was also il named, forasmuch as its nothing else but a vein which comes from the lungs, where its divided into several branches interlaid with those of the arterious vein, and those of that pipe which is called the Whistle, by which the breath enters. And the great artery,which proceeding from the heart, disperseth its branches thorow all the body. I would also that they would carefully observe the eleven little skins, which, as so many little doors, open and shut the four openings which are in these two concavities; to wit, three at the entry of thevena cava, where they are so disposed, that they can no wayes hinder the bloud which it contains from running into the right concavity of the heart; and yet altogether hinder it from coming out. Three at the entry of the arterious vein; which being disposed quite contrary, permit only the bloud which is in that concavity to pass to the lungs; but not that which is in the lungs to return thither. And then two others at the entry of the veinous artery, which permits the bloud to run to the left concavity of the heart, but opposeth its return. And three at the entry of the great artery, which permit it to go from the heart, but hinder its return thither. Neitherneed we seek any other reason for the number of these skins, save only that the opening of the veinous artery, being oval-wise, by reason of its situation, may be fitly shut with two; whereas the other, being round, may the better be clos’d with three. Besides, I would have them consider, that the great artery and the arterious vein are of a composition much stronger then the veinous artery or thevena cava. And that these two later grow larger before they enter into the heart, and make (as it were) two purses, call’d the ears of the heart, which are composed of a flesh like it; and that there is always more heat in the heart then in any other part of the body. And in fine, that if any drop of bloud enter into these concavities, this heat is able to make it presently swell and dilate it self, as generally all liquors do, when drop by drop we let them fall into a very hot vessel.
For after this I need say no more forto unfold the motion of the heart, but that when these concavities are not full of bloud, necessarily there runs some from thevena cavainto the right, and from the veinous artery into the left; for that these two vessels are always full of it, and that their openings which are towards the heart cannot then be shut: But that assoon as there is thus but two drops of bloud entred, one in either of these concavities, these drops, which cannot but be very big, by reason that their openings whereby they enter are very large, and the vessels whence they come very full of bloud, are rarified and dilated because of the heat which they find therein. By means whereof, causing all the heart to swel, they drive and shut the five little doors which are at the entry of the two vessels whence they come, hindering thereby any more bloud to fall down into the heart, and continuing more and more to rarifie themselves, they drive and open the six other littledoors which are at the entry of the other two vessels whence they issue, causing by that means all the branches of the arterious vein, and of the great artery, to swel (as it were) at the same time with the heart: which presently after fals, as those arteries also do, by reason that the bloud which is entred therein grows colder, and their six little doors shut up again, and those five of thevena cava, and of the veinous artery open again, and give way to two other drops of bloud, which again swell the heart and the arteries in the same manner as the preceding did. And because the bloud which thus enters into the heart, passeth thorow those two purses, which are call’d the ears; thence it comes, that their motion is contrary to the heart’s, and that they fall when that swels.
Lastly, That they who know not the force of Mathematical demonstrations, and are not accustomed to distinguish true reasons from probable ones, may notventureto deny thiswithout examining it, I shall advertise them, that this motion which I have now discovered, as necessarily follows from the onely disposition of the organs (which may plainly be seen in the heart,) and from the heat (which we may feel with our fingers,) and from the nature of the bloud (which we may know by experience,) as the motions of a clock doth by the force, situation and figure of its weight and wheels.
But if it be asked, how it comes that the bloud of the veins is not exhausted, running so continually into the heart; and how that the arteries are not too full, since all that which passeth thorow the heart dischargeth it self into them: I need answer nothing thereto but what hath been already writ by an English Physician, to whom this praise must be given, to have broken the ice in this place, and to be the first who taught us, That there are several little passages in the extremity of the arteries whereby thebloud which they receive from the heart, enters the little branches of the veins; whence again it sends it self back towards the heart: so that its course is no other thing but a perpetuall circulation. Which he very wel proves by the ordinary experience of Chirurgians, who having bound the arm indifferently hard above the the place where they open the vein, which causeth the bloud to issue more abundantly, then if it had not been bound. And the contrary would happen, were it bound underneath, between the hand and the incision, or bound very hard above. For its manifest, that the band indifferently tyed, being able to hinder the bloud which is already in the arm to return towards the heart by the veins; yet it therefore hinders not the new from coming always by the arteries, by reason they are placed under the veins, and that their skin being thicker, are less easie to be press’d, as also that the bloud which comes from theheart, seeks more forcibly to passe by them towards the hand, then it doth to return from thence towards the heart by the veins. And since this bloud which issues from the arm by the incision made in one of the veins, must necessarily have some passage under the bond, to wit, towards the extremities of the arm, whereby it may come thither by the arteries, he also proves very well what he sayes of the course of the bloud through certain little skins, which are so disposed in divers places along the veins, which permit it not to pass from the middle towards the extremities, but onely to return from the extremities towards the heart. And besides this, experience shews, That all the bloud which is in the body may in a very little time run out by one onely artery’s being cut, although it were even bound very neer the heart, and cut betwixt it and the ligature: So that we could have no reason to imagine that the bloud which issued thencecould come from any other part.
But there are divers other things which witness, that the true cause of this motion of the bloud is that which I have related. As first, The difference observed between that which issues out of the veins, and that which comes out of the arteries, cannot proceed but from its being rarified and (as it were) distilled by passing thorow the heart: its more subtil, more lively, and more hot presently after it comes out; that is to say, being in the arteries, then it is a little before it enters them, that is to say, in the veins. And if you observe, you will finde, that this difference appears not well but about the heart; and not so much in those places which are farther off. Next, the hardnesse of the skin of which the artery vein and the great artery are composed, sheweth sufficiently, that the bloud beats against them more forcibly then against the veins. And why should the left concavity of the heart, and thegreat artery be more large and ample then the right concavity, and the arterious vein; unless it were that the bloud of the veinous artery, having bin but onely in the lungs since its passage thorow the heart, is more subtil, and is rarified with more force and ease then the bloud which immediately comes from thevena cava. And what can the Physicians divine by feeling of the pulse, unlesse they know, that according as the bloud changeth its nature, it may by the heat of the heart be rarified to be more or lesse strong, and more or lesse quick then before. And if we examine how this heat is communicated to the other members, must we not avow that ’tis by means of the bloud, which passing the heart, reheats it self there, and thence disperseth it self thorow the whole body: whence it happens, that if you take away the bloud from any part, the heat by the same means also is taken a way. And although the heart were as burning as hot iron, itwere not sufficient to warm the feet and the hands so often as it doth, did it not continue to furnish them with new bloud.
Besides, from thence we know also that the true use of respiration is to bring fresh air enough to the lungs, to cause that bloud which comes from the right concavity of the heart, where it was rarified, and (as it were) chang’d into vapours, there to thicken, and convert it self into bloud again, before it fall again into the left, without which it would not be fit to serve for the nourishment of the fire which is there. Which is confirm’d, for that its seen, that animals which have no lungs have but one onely concavity in the heart; and that children, who can make no use of them when they are in their mothers bellies, have an opening, by which the bloud of thevena cavaruns to the left concavity of the heart, and a conduit by which it comes from the arterious vein into the great artery withoutpassing the lungs.
Next, How would the concoction be made in the stomach, unlesse the heart sent heat by the arteries, and therewithall some of the most fluid parts of the bloud, which help to dissolve the meat receiv’d therein? and is not the act which converts the juice of these meats into bloud easie to be known, if we consider, that it is distill’d by passing and repassing the heart, perhaps more then one or two hundred times a day? And what need we ought else to explain the nutrition and the production of divers humours which are in the body, but to say, that the force wherewith the bloud in rarifying it self, passeth from the heart towards the extremities or the arteries, causeth some of its parts to stay amongst those of the members where they are, and there take the place of some others, which they drive from thence? And that according to the situation, or the figure, or the smalnesse of the pores which theymeet, some arrive sooner in one place then others. In the same manner as we may have seen in severall sieves, which being diversly pierc’d, serve to sever divers grains one from the other. And briefly, that which is most remarkable herein, is the generation of the animal spirits, which are as a most subtil wind, or rather, as a most pure and lively flame, which continually rising in great abundance from the heart to the brain, dischargeth it self thence by the nerves into the muscles, and gives motion to all the members; without imagining any other reason which might cause these parts of the bloud, which being most mov’d, and the most penetrating, are the most fit to form these spirits, tend rather towards the brain, then to any other part. Save onely that the arteries which carry them thither, are those which come from the heart in the most direct line of all: And that according to the rules of the Mechanicks, which are the same with thoseof Nature, when divers things together strive to move one way, where there is not room enough for all; so those parts of bloud which issue from the left concavity of the heart tend towards the brain, the weaker and less agitated are expell’d by the stronger, who by that means arrive there alone.
I had particularly enough expounded all these things in a Treatise which I formerly had design’d to publish: In pursuit whereof, I had therein shewed what ought to be the fabrick of the nerves and muscles of an humane body, to cause those animall spirits which were in them, to have the power to move those members. As we see that heads a while after they are cut off, yet move of themselves, and bite the ground, although they are not then animated. What changes ought to be made in the brain to cause waking, sleeping, and dreaming: how light, sounds, smels, tasts, heat, and all other qualities of exteriour objects, might imprint severallIdeasby means of the senses. How hunger and thirst, and the other interiour passions might also send theirs thither. What ought to be taken therein for common sense, where theseIdeasare received; for memory which preserves them; and for fancy, which can diversly change them, and form new ones of them; and by the same means, distributing the animal spirits into the muscles, make the members of the body move in so many severall fashions, and as fitly to those objects which present themselves to its senses; and to the interiour passions which are in them, as ours may move themselves without the consent of the Wil. Which wil seem nothing strange to those, who knowing how manyAutomatasor moving Machines the industry of men can make, imploying but very few pieces, in comparison of the great abundance of bones, muscles, nerves, arteries, veins, and all the other parts which are in the body of every Animal, will considerthis body as a fabrick, which having been made by the hands of God, is incomparably better ordered, and hath more admirable motions in it then any of those which can be invented by men. And herein I particularly insisted, to make it appear, that if there were such Machines which had organs, and the exteriour figure of an Ape, or of any other unreasonable creature, we should finde no means of knowing them not to be altogether of the same nature as those Animals: whereas, if there were any which resembled our bodies, and imitated our actions as much as morally it were possible, we should always have two most certain ways to know, that for all that they were not reall men: The first of which is, that they could never have the use of speech, nor of other signes in framing it, as we have, to declare our thoughts to others: for we may well conceive, that a Machine may be so made, that it may utter words, and even some proper to thecorporal actions, which may cause some change in its organs; as if we touch it in some part, and it should ask what we would say; or so as it might cry out that one hurts it, and the like: but not that they can diversifie them to answer sensibly to all what shall be spoken in its presence, as the dullest men may do. And the second is, That although they did divers things aswel, or perhaps better, then any of us, they must infallibly fail in some others, whereby we might discover that they act not with knowledge, but onely by the disposition of their organs: for whereas Reason is an universal instrument which may serve in all kinde of encounters, these organs have need of some particular disposition for every particular action: whence it is, that its morally impossible for one Machine to have severall organs enough to make it move in all the occurrences of this life, in the same manner as our Reason makes us move. Now by these two meanswe may also know the difference which is between Men and Beasts: For ’tis a very remarkable thing, that there are no men so dull and so stupid, without excepting those who are out of their wits, but are capable to rank severall words together, and of them to compose a Discourse, by which they make known their thoughts: and that on the contrary, there is no other creature, how perfect or happily soever brought forth, which can do the like. The which happens, not because they want organs; for we know, that Pyes and Parrots can utter words even as we can, and yet cannot speak like us; that is to say, with evidence that they think what they say. Whereas Men, being born deaf and dumb, and deprived of those organs which seem to make others speak, as much or more then beasts, usually invent of themselves to be understood by those, who commonly being with them, have the leisure to learn their expressions.And this not onely witnesseth, that Beasts have lesse reason than men, but that they have none at all. For we see there needs not much to learn to speak: and forasmuch as we observe inequality amongst Beasts of the same kind, aswell as amongst men, and that some are more easily managed then others; ’tis not to be believed, but that an Ape or a Parrot which were the most perfect of its kinde, should therein equall the most stupid child, or at least a child of a distracted brain, if their souls were not of a nature wholly different from ours. And we ought not to confound words with naturall motions, which witness passions, and may be imitated by Machines aswell as by Animals; nor think (as some of the Ancients) that beasts speak, although we do not understand their language: for if it were true, since they have divers organs which relate to ours, they could aswell make themselves understood by us, as by their like. Its likewise veryremarkable that although there are divers creatures which express more industry then we in some one of their actions; yet we may well perceive, that the same shew none at all in many others: So that what they do better then we, proves not at all that they have reason; for by that reckoning they would have more then any of us, and would do better in all other things; but rather, that they have none at all, and that its Nature onely which works in them according to the disposition of their organs. As wee see a Clock, which is onely composed of wheels and springs, can reckon the hours, and measure the times more exactly then we can with all our prudence.
After this I had described the reasonable Soul, and made it appear, that it could no way be drawn from the power of the Matter, as other things whereof I had spoken; but that it ought to have been expresly created: And how it suffiseth not for it to belodg’d in our humane body as a Pilot in his ship, to move its members onely; but also that its necessary it be joyned and united more strongly therewith to have thoughts and appetites like ours, and so make a reall man.
I have here dilated my self a little on the subject of the Soul, by reason ’tis of most importance; for, next the errour of those who deny God, which I think I have already sufficiently confuted, there is none which sooner estrangeth feeble minds from the right way of vertue, then to imagine that the soul of beasts is of the same nature as ours, and that consequently we have nothing to fear nor hope after this life, no more then flies or ants. Whereas, when we know how different they are, we comprehend much better the reasons which prove that ours is of a nature wholly independing from the body, and consequently that it is not subject to die with it. And that when we see noother cause which destroys it, we are naturally thence moved to judge that it’s immortall.
Its now three years since I ended the Treatise which contains all these things, and that I began to review it, to send it afterwards to the Presse, when I understood, that persons to whom I submit, and whose authority can no lesse command my actions, then my own Reason doth my thoughts, had disapproved an opinion in Physicks, published a little before by another; of which I will not say that I was, but that indeed I had observed nothing therein, before their censure, which I could have imagined prejudiciall either to Religion or the State; or consequently,which might have hindred me from writing the same, had my Reason perswaded mee thereto. And this made me fear, lest in the same manner there might be found some one amongst mine, in which I might have been mistaken; notwithstanding the great care I always had to admit no new ones into my belief, of which I had not most certain demonstrations; and not to write such as might turn to the disadvantage of any body. Which was sufficient to oblige me to change my resolution of publishing them. For although the reasons for which I had first of all taken it, were very strong; yet my inclination, which alwayes made me hate the trade of Book-making, presently found me out others enough to excuse my self from it. And these reasons on the one and other side are such, that I am not only somewhat concern’d to speak them; but happily the Publick also to know them.
I never did much esteem thosethings which proceeded from mine own brain; and so long as I have gathered no other fruits from the Method I use, but onely that I have satisfied my self in some difficulties which belong to speculative Sciences, or at least endeavoured to regulate my Manners by the reasons it taught me, I thought my self not obliged to write any thing of them. For, as for what concerns Manners, every one abounds so much in his own sense, That we may finde as many Reformers as heads, were it permitted to others, besides those whom God hath established as Soveraigns over his people, or at least, to whom he hath dispensed grace and zeal enough to be Prophets, to undertake the change of any thing therein. And although my Speculations did very much please me, I did beleeve that other men also had some, which perhaps pleas’d them more. But as soon as I had acquired some generall notions touching naturall Philosophy,and beginning to prove them in divers particular difficulties, I observed how far they might lead a man, and how far different they were from the principles which to this day are in use; I judg’d, that I could not keep them hid without highly sinning against the Law, which obligeth us to procure, as much as in us lies, the general good of all men. For they made it appear to me, that it was possible to attain to points of knowledge, which may be very profitable for this life: and that in stead of this speculative Philosophy which is taught in the Schools, we might finde out a practicall one, by which knowing the force and workings of Fire, Water, Air, of the Starrs, of the Heavens, and of all other Bodies which environ us, distinctly, as we know the several trades of our Handicrafts, we might in the same manner employ them to all uses to which they are fit, and so become masters and possessours of Nature. Which is not onely to be desired forthe invention of very many expedients of Arts, which without trouble might make us enjoy the fruits of the earth, and all the conveniences which are to be found therein: But chiefly also for the preservation of health, which (without doubt) is the first good, and the foundation of all other good things in this life. For even the minde depends so much on the temper and disposition of the organs of the body, that if it be possible to finde any way of making men in the generall wiser, and more able then formerly they were, I beleeve it ought to be sought in Physick. True it is, that which is now in use contains but few things, whose benefit is very remarkable: But (without any designe of slighting of it) I assure my self, there is none, even of their own profession, but will consent, that whatsoever is known therein, is almost nothing in companion of what remains to be known. And that we might be freed from very many diseases, aswellof the body as of the mind, and even also perhaps from the weaknesses of old age, had we but knowledge enough of their Causes, and of all the Remedies wherewith Nature hath furnished us. Now having a designe to employ all my life in the enquiry of so necessary a Science; and having found a way, the following of which me thinks might infallibly lead us to it, unless we be hindred by the shortness of lifes, or by defect of experiments. I judg’d that there was no better Remedie against those two impediments, but faithfully to communicate to the publique, all that little I should discover, and to invite all good Wits to endevour to advance farther in contributing every one, according to his inclination and power, to those Experiments which are to be made, and communicating also to the publique all the things they should learn; so that the last, beginning where the precedent ended, and so joyning the lives and labors of many in one, wemight all together advance further then any particular Man could do.
I also observ’d touching Experiments, that they are still so much the more necessary, as we are more advanc’d in knowledg. For in the beginning it’s better to use those only which of themselves are presented to our senses, and which we cannot be ignorant of, if we do but make the least reflections upon them, then to seek out the rarest and most studied ones. The reason whereof is, that those which are rarest, doe often deceive, when we seldome know the same of the most common ones, and that the circumstances on which they depend, are, as it were, always so particular, and so small, that it’s very uneasie to finde them out. But the order I observed herein was this. First, I endevoured to finde in generall the Principles or first Causes of whatsoever is or may be in the world, without considering any thing for this end, but God alone who created it, ordrawing them elsewhere, then from certain seeds of Truth which naturally are in our souls. After this, I examined what were the first and most ordinary Effects which might be deduced from these Causes: And me thinks that thereby I found out Heavens, Starrs, an Earth; and even on the Earth, Water, Air and Fire, Minerals, and some other such like things, which are the most common, and the most simple of all, and consequently the most easie to be understood. Afterwards, when I would descend to those which were more particular, there were so many severall ones presented themselves to me, that I did beleeve it impossible for a humane understanding to distinguish the forms and species of Bodies which are on the earth, from an infinite number of others which might be there, had it been the will of God so to place them: Nor by consequence to apply them to our use, unless we set the Effects before the Causes, andmake use of divers particular experiments; In relation to which, revolving in my minde all those objects which ever were presented to my senses, I dare boldly say, I observed nothing which I could not fitly enough explain by the principles I had found. But I must also confesse that the power of Nature is so ample and vast, and these principles are so simple and generall, that I can observe almost no particular Effect, but that I presently know it might be deduced from thence in many severall ways: and that commonly my greatest difficulty is to finde in which of these ways it depends thereon; for I know no other expedient for that, but again to seek some experiments, which may be such, that their event may not be the same, if it be in one of those ways which is to be exprest, as if it were in another. In fine, I am gotten so far, That (me thinks) I see well enough what course we ought to hold to make the most part of those experimentswhich may tend to this effect. But I also see they are such, and of so great a number, that neither my hands nor my estate (though I had a thousand times more then I have) could ever suffice for all. So that according as I shall hereafter have conveniency to make more or fewer of them, I shall also advance more or lesse in the knowledge of Nature, which I hop’d I should make known by the Treatise which I had written; and therein so clearly shew the benefit which the Publick may receive thereby, that I should oblige all those in general who desire the good of Mankinde; that is to say, all those who are indeed vertuous, (and not so seemingly, or by opinion only) aswell to communicate such experiments as they have already made, as to help me in the enquiry of those which are to be made.
But since that time, other reasons have made me alter my opinion, and think that I truly ought to continueto write of all those things which I judg’d of any importance, according as I should discover the truth of them, and take the same care, as if I were to print them; as well that I might have so much the more occasion throughly to examine them; as without doubt, we always look more narrowly to what we offer to the publick view, then to what we compose onely for our own use: and oftentimes the same things which seemed true to me when I first conceived them, appear’d afterwards false to me, when I was committing them to paper: as also that I might lose no occasion of benefiting the Publick, if I were able, and that if my Writings were of any value, those to whose hands they should come after my death, might to make what use of them they think fit.
But that I ought not any wayes to consent that they should be published during my life; That neither the opposition and controversies, wheretoperhaps they might be obnoxious, nor even the reputation whatsoever it were, which they might acquire me, might give me any occasion of mispending the time I had design’d to employ for my instruction; for although it be true that every Man is oblig’d to procure, as much as in him lies, the good of others; and that to be profitable to no body, is properly to be good for nothing: Yet it’s as true, that our care ought to reach beyond the present time; and that it were good to omit those things which might perhaps conduce to the benefit of those who are alive, when our designe is, to doe others which shall prove farr more advantagious to our posterity; As indeed I desire it may be known that the little I have learnt hitherto, is almost nothing in comparison of what I am ignorant of; and I doe not despair to be able to learn: For it’s even the same with those, who by little and little discover the truth in Learning; as with those who beginningto grow rich, are less troubled to make great purchases, then they were before when they were poorer, to make little ones. Or else one may compare them to Generals of Armies, whose Forces usually encrease porportionably to their Victories; and who have need of more conduct to maintain themselves after the loss of a battail, then after the gaining one, to take Towns and Provinces. For to endeavour to overcome all the difficulties and errours which hinder us to come to the knowledg of the Truth, is truly to fight battails. And to receive any false opinion touching a generall or weighty matter, is as much as to lose one; there is far more dexterity required to recover our former condition, then to make great progresses where our Principles are already certain. For my part, if I formerly have discovered some Truths in Learning, as I hope my Discourse will make it appear I have, I may say, they are butthe products and dependances of five or six principall difficulties which I have overcome, and which I reckon for so many won Battails on my side. Neither will I forbear to say; That I think, It’s only necessary for me to win two or three more such, wholly to perfect my design. And that I am not so old, but according to the ordinary course of Nature, I may have time enough to effect it. But I beleeve I am so much the more obliged to husband the rest of my time, as I have more hopes to employ it well; without doubt, I should have divers occasions of impeding it, should I publish the grounds of my Physicks. For although they are almost all so evident, that to beleeve them, it’s needfull onely to understand them; and that there is none whereof I think my self unable to give demonstration. Yet because it’s impossible that they should agree with all the severall opinions of other men, I foresee I should often be diverted bythe opposition they would occasion.
It may be objected, These oppositions might be profitable, as well to make me know my faults, as if any thing of mine were good to make others by that means come to a better understanding thereof; and as many may see more then one man, beginning from this time to make use of my grounds, they might also help me with their invention. But although I know my self extremely subject to fail, and do never almost trust my first thoughts; yet the experience I have of the objections which may be made unto me, hinder me from hoping for any profit from them; For I have often tried the judgments as well of those whom I esteem’d my friends, as of others whom I thought indifferent, and even also of some, whose malignity and envie did sufficiently discover what the affection of my friends might hide. But it seldom happened that any thing was objected against me, which I had not altogether foreseen,unless it were very remote from my Subject: So that I never almost met with any Censurer of my opinions, that seemed unto me either less rigorous, or less equitable then my self. Neither did I ever observe, that by the disputations practiced in the Schools any Truth which was formerly unknown, was ever discovered. For whilest every one seeks to overcome, men strive more to maintain probabilities, then to weigh the reasons on both sides; and those who for a long time have been good Advocates, are not therefore the better Judges afterwards.
As for the benefit which others may receive from the communication of my thoughts, it cannot also be very great, forasmuch as I have not yet perfected them, but that it is necessary to add many things thereunto, before a usefull application can be made of them. And I think I may say without vanity, That if there be any one capable thereof, it must be myself, rather then any other. Not but that there may be divers wits in the world incomparably better then mine; but because men cannot so well conceive a thing and make it their own, when they learn it of another, as when they invent it themselves: which is so true in this Subject, that although I have often explain’d some of my opinions to very understanding men, and who, whilest I spake to them, seem’d very distinctly to conceive them; yet when they repeated them, I observ’d, that they chang’d them almost always in such a manner, that I could no longer own them for mine. Upon which occasion, I shall gladly here desire those who come after me, never to beleeve those things which may be delivered to them for mine, when I have not published them my self. And I do not at all wonder at the extravagancies which are attributed to all those ancient Philosophers, whose Writings we have not; neither do Ithereby judge, that their thoughts were very irrationall, seeing they were the best Wits of their time; but onely that they have been ill convey’d to us: as it appears also, that never any of their followers surpass’d them. And I assure my self, that the most passionate of those, who now followAristotle, would beleeve himself happy, had he but as much knowledge of Nature as he had, although it were on condition that he never might have more: They are like the ivie, which seeks to climb no higher then the trees which support it, and ever after tends downwards again when it hath attain’d to the height thereof: for, me thinks also, that such men sink downwards; that is to say, render themselves in some manner lesse knowing, then if they did abstain from studying; who being not content to know all which is intelligibly set down in their Authour, will besides that, finde out the solution of divers difficulties of which hesays nothing, and perhaps never thought of them: yet their way of Philosophy is very fit for those who have but mean capacities: For the obscurity of the distinctions and principles which they use causeth them to speak of all things as boldly, as if they knew them, and maintain all which they say, against the most subtill and most able; so that there is no means left to convince them. Wherein they seem like to a blinde man, who, to fight without disadvantage against one that sees, should challenge him down into the bottom of a very dark cellar: And I may say, that it is these mens interest, that I should abstain from publishing the principles of the Philosophy I use, for being most simple and most evident, as they are, I should even do the same in publishing of them, as if I opened some windows, to let the day into this cellar, into which they go down to fight. But even the best Wits have no reason to wish for the knowledge of them: forif they will be able to speak of all things, and acquire the reputation of being learned, they will easily attain to it by contenting themselves with probability, which without much trouble may be found in all kinde of matters; then in seeking the Truth, which discovers it self but by little and little, in some few things; and which, when we are to speak of others, oblige us freely to confesse our ignorance of them. But if they prefer the knowledge of some few truths to the vanity of seeming to be ignorant of nothing, as without doubt they ought to do, and will undertake a designe like mine, I need not tell them any more for this purpose, but what I have already said in this Discourse: For if they have a capacity to advance farther then I have done, they may with greater consequence finde out of themselves whatsoever I think I have found; Forasmuch as having never examined any thing but by order, it’s certain,that what remains yet for me to discover, is in it self more difficult and more hid, then what I have already here before met with; and they would receive much less satisfaction in learning it from me, then from themselves. Besides that, the habit which they would get by seeking first of all the easie things, and passing by degrees to others more difficult, will be more usefull to them, then all my instructions. As I for my part am perswaded, that had I been taught from my youth all the Truths whose demonstrations I have discovered since, and had taken no pains to learn them, perhaps I should never have known any other, or at least, I should never have acquired that habit, and that faculty which I think I have, still to finde out new ones, as I apply my self to the search of them. And in a word, if there be in the world any work which cannot be so well ended by any other, as by the same who began it, it’s that which I am now about.
It’s true, That one man will not be sufficient to make all the experiments which may conduce thereunto: But withall, he cannot profitably imploy other hands then his own, unlesse it be those of Artists, or others whom he hires, and whom the hope of profit (which is a very powerfull motive) might cause exactly to do all those things he should appoint them: For as for voluntary persons, who by curiosity or a desire to learn, would perhaps offer themselves to his help, besides that commonly they promise more then they perform, and make onely fair propositions, whereof none ever succeeds, they would infallibly be paid by the solution of some difficulties, or at least by complements and unprofitable entertainments, which could not cost him so little of his time, but he would be a loser thereby. And for the Experiments which others have already made, although they would even communicate them to him (which those who call them Secretswould never do,) they are for the most part composed of so many circumstances, or superfluous ingredients, that it would be very hard for him to decypher the truth of them: Besides, he would find them all so ill exprest, or else so false, by reason that those who made them have laboured to make them appear conformable to their principles; that if there were any which served their turn, they could not at least be worth the while which must be imployed in the choice of them. So that, if there were any in the world that were certainly known to be capable of finding out the greatest things, and the most profitable for the Publick which could be, and that other men would therefore labour alwayes to assist him to accomplish his Designes; I do not conceive that they could do more for him, then furnish the expence of the experiments whereof he stood in need; and besides, take care only that he may not be by any body hindredof his time. But besides that, I do not presume so much of my Self, as to promise any thing extraordinary, neither do I feed my self with such vain hopes, as to imagine that the Publick should much interesse it self in my designes; I have not so base a minde, as to accept of any favour whatsoever, which might be thought I had not deserved.
All these considerations joyned together, were the cause three years since why I would not divulge the Treatise I had in hand; and which is more, that I resolved to publish none whilest I lived, which might be so general, as that the Grounds of my Philosophy might be understood thereby. But since, there hath been two other reasons have obliged me to put forth some particular Essays, and to give the Publick some account of my Actions and Designes. The first was, that if I failed therein, divers who knew the intention I formerly had to print some of my Writings, mightimagine that the causes for which I forbore it, might be more to my disadvantage then they are. For although I do not affect glory in excess; or even, (if I may so speak) that I hate it, as far as I judge it contrary to my rest, which I esteem above all things: Yet also did I never seek to hide my actions as crimes, neither have I been very wary to keep my self unknown; as well because I thought I might wrong my self, as that it might in some manner disquiet me, which would again have been contrary to the perfect repose of my minde which I seek. And because having alwayes kept my self indifferent, caring not whether I were known or no, I could not chuse but get some kinde of reputation, I thought that I ought to do my best to hinder it at least from being ill. The other reason which obliged me to write this, is, that observing every day more and more the designe I have to instruct my self, retarded by reason of an infinite numberof experiments which are needful to me, and which its impossible for me to make without the help of others; although I do not so much flatter my self, as to hope that the Publick, shares much in my concernments; yet will I not also be so much wanting to my self, as to give any cause to those who shall survive me, to reproach this, one day to me, That I could have left them divers things far beyond what I have done, had I not too much neglected to make them understand wherein they might contribute to my designe.
And I thought it easie for me to choose some matters, which being not subject to many Controversies, nor obliging me to declare any more of my Principles then I would willingly, would neverthelesse expresse clearly enough, what my abilities or defects are in the Sciences. Wherein I cannot say whether I have succeeded or no; neither will I prevent the judgment of any man by speaking of my ownWritings: but I should be glad they might be examin’d; and to that end I beseech all those who have any objections to make, to take the pains to send them to my Stationer, that I being advertised by him, may endeavour at the same time to adjoyn my Answer thereunto: and by that means, the Reader seeing both the one and the other, may the more easily judge of the Truth. For I promise, that I will never make any long Answers, but only very freely confesse my own faults, if I find them; or if I cannot discover them, plainly say what I shal think requisite in defence of what I have writ, without adding the explanation of any new matter, that I may not endlesly engage my self out of one into another.
Now if there be any whereof I have spoken in the beginning, of the Opticks and of the Meteors, which at first jarr, by reason that I call them Suppositions, and that I seem not willing to prove them; let a man have but the patienceto read the whole attentively, and I hope he will rest satisfied: For (me thinks) the reasons follow each other so closely, that as the later are demonstrated by the former, which are their Causes; the former are reciprocally proved by the later, which are their Effects. And no man can imagine that I herein commit the fault which the Logicians call aCircle; for experience rendring the greatest part of these effects most certain, the causes whence I deduce them serve not so much to prove, as to explain them; but on the contrary, they are those which are proved by them. Neither named I them Suppositions, that it might be known that I conceive my self able to deduce them from those first Truths which I have before discovered: But that I would not expresly do it to crosse certain spirits, who imagine that they know in a day al what another may have thought in twenty yeers, as soon as he hath told them but two or three words;and who are so much the more subject to erre, and less capable of the Truth, (as they are more quick and penetrating) from taking occasion of erecting some extravagant Philosophy on what they may beleeve to be my Principles, and lest the fault should be attributed to me. For as for those opinions which are wholly mine, I excuse them not as being new, because that if the reasons of them be seriously considered, I assure my self, they will be found so plain, and so agreeable to common sense, that they will seem less extraordinary and strange then any other which may be held on the same Subjects. Neither do I boast that I am the first Inventor of any of them; but of this indeed, that I never admitted any of them, neither because they had, or had not been said by others, but only because Reason perswaded me to them.
If Mechanicks cannot so soon put in practise the Invention which is set forth in the Opticks, I beleeve thattherefore men ought not to condemn it; forasmuch as skill and practice are necessary for the making and compleating the Machines I have described; so that nocircumstanceshould be wanting. I should no less wonder if they should succeed at first triall, then if a man should learn in a day to play excellently well on a Lute, by having an exact piece set before him. And if I write in French, which is the language of my Country, rather then in Latin, which is that of my Tutors, ’tis because I hope such who use their meer naturall reason, wil better judge of my opinions, then those who only beleeve in old Books. And for those who joyn a right understanding with study, (who I only wish for my Judges) I assure my self, they will not be so partiall to the Latin, as to refuse to read my reasons because I expresse them in a vulgar tongue.
To conclude, I will not speak here in particular of the progresse I hoped to make hereafter in Learning; Norengage my self by any promise to the Publick, which I am not certain to perform. But I shall onely say, That I am resolved to employ the remainder of my life in no other thing but the study to acquire some such knowledge of Nature as may furnish us with more certain rules in Physick then we hitherto have had: And that my inclination drives me so strongly from all other kind of designes, chiefly from those which cannot be profitable to any, but by prejudicing others; that if any occasion obliged me to spend my time therein, I should beleeve I should never succeed therein: which I here declare, though I well know it conduceth not to make me considerable in the world; neither is it my ambition to be so. And I shall esteem my self always more obliged to those by whose favour I shal without disturbance enjoy my ease, then to them who should proffer me the most honourable imployment of the earth.
FINIS.