A Discourse _OF A_ METHOD For the well guiding of REASON, And the Discovery of _Truth_ In the SCIENCES. 

 [Illustration]

 LONDON, Printed by _Thomas Newcombe_. MDCXLIX. 

To the _Understanding READER_. 

The Great DESCARTES (who may justly challenge the first place amongstthe Philosophers of this Age) is the Author of this Discourse; which inthe Originall was so well known, That it could be no mans but his own, that his Name was not affix'd to it: I need say no more either of Himor It; He is best made known by Himself, and his Writings want nothingbut thy reading to commend them. But as those who cannot compasse theOriginals of _Titian_ and _Van-Dyke_, are glad to adorne their Cabinetswith the Copies of them; So be pleased favourably to receive his Picturefrom my hand, copied after his own Designe: You may therein observe thelines of a well form'd Minde, The hightnings of Truth, The sweetningsand shadowings of Probabilities, The falls and depths of Falshood; allwhich serve to perfect this Masterpiece. Now although my after-draughtbe rude and unpolished, and that perhaps I have touch'd it too boldly, The thoughts of so clear a Minde, being so extremely fine, That as thechoisest words are too grosse, and fall short fully to expresse suchsublime Notions; So it cannot be, but being transvested, it mustnecessarily lose very much of its native Lustre: Nay, although I amconscious (notwithstanding the care I have taken neither to wrong theAuthours Sense, nor offend the Readers Ear) of many escapes which I havemade; yet I so little doubt of being excused, That I am confident, myendeavour cannot but be gratefull to all Lovers of Learning; for whosebenefit I have Englished, and to whom I addresse this Essay, whichcontains a Method, by the Rules whereof we may Shape our better part, Rectifie our Reason, Form our Manners and Square our Actions, Adorn ourMindes, and making a diligent Enquiry into Nature, wee may attain to theKnowledge of the Truth, which is the most desirable union in the World. 

Our Authour also invites all letterd men to his assistance in theprosecution of this Search; That for the good of Mankinde, They wouldpractise and communicate Experiments, for the use of all those wholabour for the perfection of Arts and Sciences: Every man now beingobliged to the furtherance of so beneficiall an Undertaking, I could notbut lend my hand to open the Curtain, and discover this New Model ofPhilosophy; which I now publish, neither to humour the present, nordisgust former times; but rather that it may serve for an innocentDivertisement to those, who would rather Reform themselves, then therest of the world; and who, having the same seeds and grounds, andknowing That there is nothing New under the Sun; That Novelty is butOblivion, and that Knowledge is but Remembrance, will study to findeout in themselves, and restore to Posterity those lost Arts, whichrender Antiquity so venerable; and strive (if it be possible) to gobeyond them in other things, as well as Time: Who minde not those thingswhich are above, beyond, or without them; but would rather limit theirdesires by their power, then change the Course of Nature; Who seek theknowledge, and labour for the Conquest of themselves; Who have Vertueenough to make their own Fortune; And who prefer the Culture of theMinde before the Adorning of the Body; To such as these I present thisDiscourse (whose pardon I beg, for having so long detain'd them from sodesirable a Conversation;) and conclude with this Advice of the Divine_Plato_:

 _Cogita in te, præter Animum, nihil esse mirabile. _

A DISCOURSE OF A METHOD, For the wel-guiding of Reason; AND Thediscovery of Truth in the SCIENCES. 

_If this Discourse seem too long to be read at once, it may be dividedinto six parts. In the first, are divers Considerations touching theSciences. In the second, the principall Rules of that Method which theAuthor hath studyed. In the third, some of those in morality, which hehath drawn from this Method. In the fourth, the reasons whereby theexistence of God and of the humane Soul is proved; which are thegrounds of his Metaphysicks. In the fift, the order of these Physicallquestions, which he hath examined, and particularly the explication ofthe hearts motion; with some other difficulties relating to Physick; asalso the difference between our Souls and those of beasts. In the last, what he conceives requisit to make a further inquiry into Nature, thenhath hitherto been made. And what reasons induc'd him to write. _

PART. I. 

Right understanding is the most equally divided thing in the World; forevery one beleevs himself so well stor'd with it, that even those who inall other things are the hardest to be pleas'd, seldom desire more of itthen they have; wherein it is not likely that all Men are deceived: Butit rather witnesseth, That the faculty of right-judging anddistinguishing truth from falshood (which is properly call'd, Understanding or Reason) is naturally equal in all Men. And as thediversity of our Opinions, is not, because some are more reasonable thenothers; but only that we direct our thoughts several ways, neither do weconsider the same things. For 'tis not enough to have good faculties, but the principal is, to apply them well. The greatest Souls are ascapable of the greatest Vices, as of the most eminent Vertues: And thosewho move but very slowly, may advance much farther, if they alwaysfollow the right way; then those who run and straggle from it. 

For my part, I never presum'd that my Minde was more perfect in anything then an ordinary Mans; nay, I have often wish'd to have had mythoughts as quick, my imagination as clear and distinct, and my memoryas large and as ready as some other Men have had. And I know noQualities which serve more then those to the perfection of the Minde;for as for Reason or Understanding, forasmuch as it is the only thingwhich makes us Men, and distinguisheth us from beasts, I will beleeve itto be entire in every One, and follow herein the common opinion of thePhilosophers, who say, That there is only more or less among theAccidents, and not amongst the Forms or nature of the Individuals of onespecies. 

But I shall not stick to say, That I beleeve my self very happy, inhaving encountred from my youth with certain ways which have led me toconsiderations and Maximes, from which I have found a Method; wherebymethinks, I have the means by degrees to augment my knowledg, and bylittle and little to raise it up to the highest pitch, whereto themeaness of my capacity, & the short course of my life can permit it toattain. For I have already reaped such fruits from it, that although inthe judgment I make of my self, I endevour always rather to incline tomistrust, then to presumption. And looking on the divers actions andundertakings of all Men, with the eye of a Philosopher, there is almostnone which to me seems not vain and useless. Yet I am extremelysatisfied with the Progress, which (as it seems to me) I have alreadymade in the search of Truth, and do conceive such hopes for the future, That if among the employments of Men, purely Men, there is any solidlygood, and of importance, I dare beleeve it is that which I have chosen:Yet it may be that I deceive my self, and perhaps it is but a littleCopper and Glass which I take for Gold and Diamonds. I know how subjectwe are to mistake in those things which concern us, and how jealous weought to be of the judgment of our friends, when it is in our favor. ButI should willingly in this Discourse, trace out unto you the ways whichI have followed, and represent therein my life, as in a Picture, to theend, that every one may judge thereof; and that learning from commonFame, what mens opinions are of it, I may finde a new means ofinstructing my self; which I shall add to those which I customarily makeuse of. 

Neither is it my design to teach a Method which every Man ought tofollow, for the good conduct of his reason; but only to shew after whatmanner I have endevoured to order mine own. Those who undertake to giveprecepts, ought to esteem themselves more able, then those to whom theygive them, and are blame-worthy, if they fail in the least. Butproposing this but as a History, or if you will have it so, but as aFable; wherein amongst other examples, which may be imitated, we mayperhaps find divers others which we may have reason to decline: I hopeit will be profitable to some, without being hurtfull to any; and thatthe liberty I take will be gratefull to all. 

I have been bred up to Letters from mine infancy; & because I wasperswaded, that by their means a man might acquire a clear and certainknowledg of all that's usefull for this life, I was extremely desirousto learn them: But as soon as I had finish'd all the course of myStudies, at the end whereof Men are usually receiv'd amongst the rank ofthe learned. I wholly changed my opinion, for I found my self intangledin so many doubts and errors, that me thought I had made no other profitin seeking to instruct my self, but that I had the more discovered mineown ignorance. Yet I was in one of the most famous Schools in _Europe_;where I thought, if there were any on earth, there ought to have beenlearned Men. I had learnt all what others had learnt; even unsatisfiedwith the Sciences which were taught us, I had read over all Books(which I could possibly procure) treating of such as are held to be therarest and the most curious. Withall, I knew the judgment others made ofme; and I perceiv'd that I was no less esteem'd then my fellow Students, although there were some amongst them that were destin'd to fill ourMasters rooms. And in fine, our age seem'd to me as flourishing and asfertile of good Wits, as any of the preceding, which made me take theliberty to judg of all other men by my self, and to think, That therewas no such learning in the world, as formerly I had been made beleeve. 

Yet did I continue the esteem I had of those exercises which are theemployments of the Schools: I knew that Languages which are therelearnt, are necessary for the understanding of ancient Writers, That thequaintness of Fables awakens the Minde; That the memorable actions inHistory raise it up, and that being read with discretion, they help toform the judgment. That the reading of good books, is like theconversation with the honestest persons of the past age, who were theAuthors of them, and even a studyed conversation, wherein they discoverto us the best only of their thoughts. That eloquence hath forces &beauties which are incomparable. That Poetry hath delicacies and sweetsextremly ravishing; That the Mathematicks hath most subtile inventions, which very much conduce aswel to content the curious, as to facilitateall arts, and to lessen the labour of Men: That those writings whichtreat of manners contain divers instructions, and exhortations tovertue, which are very usefull. That Theology teacheth the way toheaven; That Philosophy affords us the means to speake of all thingswith probability, and makes her self admir'd, by the least knowing Men. That Law, Physick and other sciences bring honor and riches to those whopractice them; Finally that its good to have examin'd them all even thefalsest and the most superstitious, that we may discover their justvalue, and preserve our selves from their cheats. 

But I thought I had spent time enough in the languages, and even also inthe lecture of ancient books, their histories and their fables. For 'tiseven the same thing to converse with those of former ages, as to travel. Its good to know something of the manners of severall Nations, that wemay not think that all things against our _Mode_ are ridiculous orunreasonable, as those are wont to do, who have seen Nothing. But whenwe employ too long time in travell, we at last become strangers to ourown Country, and when we are too curious of those things, which wepractised in former times, we commonly remain ignorant of those whichare now in use. Besides, Fables make us imagine divers events possible, which are not so: And that even the most faithfull Histories, if theyneither change or augment the value of things, to render them the moreworthy to be read, at least, they always omit the basest and lessremarkable circumstances; whence it is, that the rest seems not as itis; and that those who form their Manners by the examples they thencederive, are subject to fall into the extravagancies of the _Paladins_ ofour Romances, and to conceive designes beyond their abilities. 

I highly priz'd Eloquence, and was in love with Poetry; but I esteem'dboth the one and the other, rather gifts of the Minde, then the fruitsof study. Those who have the strongest reasoning faculties, and who bestdigest their thoughts, to render them the more clear and intelligible, may always the better perswade what they propose, although they shouldspeak but a corrupt dialect, and had never learnt Rhetorick: And thosewhose inventions are most pleasing, and can express them with mostornament and sweetness, will still be the best Poets; although ignorantof the Art of Poetry. 

Beyond all, I was most pleas'd with the Mathematicks, for the certaintyand evidence of the reasons thereof; but I did not yet observe theirtrue use, and thinking that it served only for Mechanick Arts; Iwondred, that since the grounds thereof were so firm and solid, thatnothing more sublime had been built thereon. As on the contrary, Icompar'd the writings of the Ancient heathen which treated of Manner, tomost proud and stately Palaces which were built only on sand and mire, they raise the vertues very high, and make them appear estimable aboveall the things in the world; but they doe not sufficiently instruct usin the knowledg of them, and often what they call by that fair Name, isbut a stupidness, or an act of pride, or of despair, or a paricide. 

I reverenc'd our Theology, and pretended to heaven as much as any; Buthaving learnt as a most certain Truth, that the way to it, is no lessopen to the most ignorant, then to the most learned; and that thoserevealed truths which led thither, were beyond our understanding, Idurst not submit to the weakness of my ratiocination. And I thought, that to undertake to examine them, and to succeed in it, requir'd someextraordinary assistance from heaven, and somewhat more then Man. Ishall say nothing of Philosophy, but that seeing it hath been cultivatedby the most excellent wits, which have liv'd these many ages, and thatyet there is nothing which is undisputed, and by consequence, which isnot doubtfull. I could not presume so far, as to hope to succeed betterthen others. And considering how many different opinions there may be onthe same thing, maintain'd by learned Men, and yet that there never canbe but one only Truth, I reputed almost all false, which had no morethen probability in it. 

As for other Sciences, since they borrow their Principles fromPhilosophy, I judg'd that nothing which was solid could be built uponsuch unsound foundations; and neither honour nor wealth were sufficientto invite me to the study of them. For (I thank God) I found not my selfin a condition which obliged me to make a Trade of Letters for therelief of my fortune. And although I made it not my profession todespise glory with the Cynick; yet did I little value that which I couldnot acquire but by false pretences. And lastly, for unwarrantableStudies, I thought I already too well understood what they were, to beany more subject to be deceived, either by the promises of an Alchymist, or by the predictions of an Astrologer, or by the impostures of aMagician, or by the artifice or brags of those who profess to know morethen they do. 

By reason whereof, as soon as my years freed me from the subjection ofmy Tutors, I wholly gave over the study of Letters, and resolving toseek no other knowledge but what I could finde in my self, or in thegreat book of the World, I imployed the rest of my youth in Travell, tosee Courts and Armies, to frequent people of severall humors andconditions, to gain experience, to hazard my self in those encounters offortune which should occurr; and every-where to make such a reflectionon those things which presented themselves to me, that I might drawprofit from them. For (me thought) I could meet with far more truth inthe discourses which every man makes touching those affairs whichconcern him, whose event would quickly condemn him, if he had judg'damisse; then amongst those which letter'd Men make in their closetstouching speculations, which produce no effect, and are of noconsequence to them, but that perhaps they may gain so much the morevanity, as they are farther different from the common understanding:Forasmuch as he must have imployed the more wit and subtilty inendeavouring to render them probable. And I had always an extreme desireto learn to distinguish Truth from Falshood, that I might see cleerlyinto my actions, and passe this life with assurance. 

Its true, that whiles I did but consider the Manners of other men, Ifound little or nothing wherein I might confirm my self: And I observ'din them even as much diversity as I had found before in the opinions ofthe Philosophers: So that the greatest profit I could reap from themwas, that seeing divers things, which although they seem to us veryextravagant and ridiculous, are nevertheless commonly received andapproved by other great Nations, I learn'd to beleeve nothing toofirmly, of what had been onely perswaded me by example or by custom, andso by little and little I freed my self from many errors, which mighteclipse our naturall light, and render us lesse able to comprehendreason. But after I had imployed some years in thus studying the Book ofthe World, and endeavouring to get experience, I took one day aresolution to study also within my self, and to employ all the forces ofmy minde in the choice of the way I was to follow: which (me thought)succeeded much better, then if I had never estranged my self from myCountry, or from my Books. 

PART. II. 

I was then in _Germany_, whither the occasion of the Wars (which are notyet finished) call'd me; and as I return'd from the Emperors Coronationtowards the Army, the beginning of Winter stopt me in a place, wherefinding no conversation to divert me and on the other sides having bygood fortune no cares nor passions which troubled me, I stayd alone thewhole day, shut up in my Stove, where I had leasure enough to entertainmy self with my thoughts. Among which one of the first was that I betookmy self to consider, That oft times there is not so much perfection inworks compos'd of divers peeces, and made by the hands of severallmasters, as in those that were wrought by one only: So we may observethat those buildings which were undertaken and finished by one onely, are commonly fairer and better ordered then those which divers havelaboured to patch up, making use of old wals, which were built for otherpurposes; So those ancient Cities which of boroughs, became in asuccession of time great Towns, are commonly so ill girt in comparisonof other regular Places, which were design'd on a flatt according to thefancy of an Engeneer; and although considering their buildingsseverally, we often find as much or more art, then in those of otherplaces; Yet to see how they are rank'd here a great one, there a littleone, and how they make the streets crooked and uneven, One would say, That it was rather Fortune, then the will of Men indued with reason, that had so disposed them. And if we consider, that there hath alwaysbeen certain Officers, whose charge it was, to take care of privatebuildings, to make them serve for the publique ornament; We may wellperceive, that it's very difficult, working on the works of others, tomake things compleat. So also did I imagine, that those people whoformerly had been half wilde, and civiliz'd but by degrees, made theirlaws but according to the incommodities which their crimes and theirquarrels constrain'd them to, could not be so wel pollic'd, as those whofrom the beginning of their association, observ'd the constitutions ofsome prudent Legislator. As it is very certain, that the state of thetrue Religion, whose Ordinances God alone hath made, must beincomparably better regulated then all others. And to speak of humanethings, I beleeve that if _Sparta_ hath formerly been most flourishing, it was not by reason of the goodness of every of their laws inparticular, many of them being very strange, and even contrary to goodmanners, but because they were invented by one only, They all tended toOne End. And so I thought the sciences in Books, at least those whosereasons are but probable, and which have no demonstrations, having beencompos'd of, and by little and little enlarg'd with, the opinions ofdivers persons, come not so near the Truth, as those simple reasoningswhich an understanding Man can naturally make, touching those thingswhich occurr. And I thought besides also, That since we have all beenchildren, before we were Men; and that we must have been a long timegovern'd by our appetites, and by our Tutors, who were often contrary toone another, and neither of which alwayes counsel'd us for the best;It's almost impossible that our judgment could be so clear or so solid, as it might have been, had we had the intire use of our reason from thetime of our birth, and been always guided by it alone. 

Its true, we doe not see the houses of a whole Town pull'd downpurposely to re build them of another fashion; and to make the streetsthe fairer; But we often see, that divers pull their own down to setthem up again, and that even sometimes they are forc'd thereunto, whenthey are in danger to fall of themselves, and that their foundations arenot sure. By which example I perswaded my self, that there was no sensefor a particular person, to design the Reformation of a State, changingall from the very foundations, and subverting all to redress it again:Nor even also to reform the bodies of Sciences, or the Orders alreadyestablished in the Schools for teaching them. But as for all theOpinions which I had till then receiv'd into my beleef, I could not doebetter then to undertake to expunge them once for all, that afterwards Imight place in their stead, either others which were better, or the sameagain, as soon as I should have adjusted them to the rule of reason. AndI did confidently beleeve, that by that means I should succeed muchbetter in the conduct of my life, then if I built but on oldfoundations, and only relyed on those principles, which I suffer'd myself to be perswaded to in my youth, without ever examining the Truth ofthem. For although I observ'd herein divers difficulties, yet were theynot without cure, nor comparable to those which occurr in thereformation of the least things belonging to the publick: these greatbodies are too unweldy to be rais'd; being cast down, or to be held upwhen they are shaken, neither can their falls be but the heavyest. 

As for their imperfections, if they have any, as the only diversitywhich is amongst them, is sufficient to assure us that many have. Custome hath (without doubt) much sweetned them, and even it hath madeothers wave, or insensibly correct a many, whereto we could not so wellby prudence have given a remedy. And in fine, They are alwayes moresupportable, then their change can be, Even, as the great Roads, whichwinding by little and little betwixt mountains, become so plain andcommodious, with being often frequented, that it's much better to followthem, then to undertake to goe in a strait line by climbing over therocks, and descending to the bottom of precipices. Wherefore I can by nomeans approve of those turbulent and unquiet humors, who being neithercall'd by birth or fortune to the managing of publique affairs, yet arealwayes forming in _Idea_, some new Reformation. And did I think therewere the least thing in this Discourse, which might render me suspectedof that folly, I should be extremely sorry to suffer it to be published;I never had any designe which intended farther then to reform my ownthoughts and to build on a foundation which was wholly mine. But thoughI present you here with a Modell of my work, because it hathsufficiently pleased me; I would not therefore counsell any one toimitate it. Those whom God hath better endued with his graces, mayperhaps have more elevated designes; but I fear me, lest already this betoo bold for some. The resolution only of quitting all those opinionswhich we have formerly receiv'd into our belief, is not an example to befollowed by every One; and the world is almost compos'd but of two sortsof Men, to whom it's no wayes convenient, to wit, of those, whobeleeving themselves more able then they are, cannot with-holdthemselves from precipitating their judgments, nor have patience enoughto steer all their thoughts in an orderly course. Whence it happens, that if they should once take the liberty to doubt of those principleswhich they have already received, and to stray from the common road, they could never keep the path which leads strait forwards, and so, would straggle all their lives. And of such who having reason andmodesty enough to judg that they are less able to distinguish truth fromfalshood then others, from whom they may receive instruction, ought muchrather to be content to follow other Mens opinions, rather then to seekafter better themselves. 

And for my part, I had undoubtedly been of the number of those latter, had I never had but one Master, or had I not known the disputes whichhave alwayes hapned amongst the most learned. For having learnt fromthe very School, That one can imagin nothing so strange or incredible, which had not been said by some one of the Philosophers; And havingsince observ'd in my travails, That all those whose opinions arecontrary to ours, are not therefore barbarous or savage, but that manyuse as much or more reason then we; and having consider'd how much oneMan with his own understanding, bred up from his childhood among theFrench or the Dutch, becomes different from what he would be, had healwayes liv'd amongst the _Chineses_, or the _Cannibals_: And how evenin the fashion of our Clothes, the same thing which pleas'd ten yearssince, and which perhaps wil please ten years hence, seems now to usridiculous and extravagant. So that it's much more Custome and Examplewhich perswades us, then any assured knowledg; and notwithstanding thatplurality of voices is a proof of no validity, in those truths whichare hard to be discovered; for that it's much more likely for one manalone to have met with them, then a whole Nation; I could choose no Manwhose opinion was to be preferr'd before anothers: And I found my selfeven constrain'd to undertake the conduct of my self. 

But as a man that walks alone, and in the dark, I resolv'd to goe sosoftly, and use so much circumspection in all things, that though Iadvanc'd little, I would yet save my self from falling. Neither would Ibegin quite to reject, some opinions, which formerly had crept into mybelief, without the consent of my reason, before I had employed timeenough to form the project of the work I undertook, and to seek the trueMethod to bring me to the knowledg of all those things, of which myunderstanding was capable. 

I had a little studyed, being young, of the parts of Philosophy, Logick, and of the Mathematicks, the Analysis of the Geometricians, and_Algebra_: Three arts or sciences which seem'd to contribute somewhatconducing to my designe: But examining them, I observ'd, That as forLogick, its Sylogisms, and the greatest part of its other Rules, serverather to expound to another the things they know, or even as _Lullies_art, to speak with judgment of the things we are ignorant of, then tolearn them. And although in effect it contain divers most true and goodprecepts, yet there are so many others mixed amongst them, eitherhurtfull or superfluous, That it's even as difficult to extract them, as'tis to draw a _Diana_ or a _Mercury_ out of a lump of Marble, which isnot yet rough-hewn; as for the Analysis of the Ancients, and the_Algebra_ of the Moderns; besides that, they extend only to matters veryabstract, and which seem to be of no use; The first being alwayes sotyed to the consideration of figures, That it cannot exercise theunderstanding, without very much tiring the imagination. And in thelatter they have so subjected themselves to certain Rules and cyphers, that they have made a confus'd and obscure art which perplexeth theminde, in stead of a Science to instruct it. For this reason, I thoughtI ought to seek some other Method, which comprehending the advantages ofthese, they might be exempt from their defects. And as the multitude ofLaws often furnisheth excuses for vice; so a State is fair betterpolic'd, when having but a few, they are very strictly observ'd therein:So, instead of the great many precepts whereof Logick is compos'd, Ithought these four following would be sufficient for me, if I took but afirm and constant resolution not once to fail in the observation ofthem. 

The first was, never to receive any thing for true, but what I evidentlyknew to be so; that's to say, Carefully to avoid Precipitation andPrevention, and to admit nothing more into my judgment, but what shouldso clearly and distinctly present it self to my minde, that I could haveno reason to doubt of it. 

The second, to divide every One of these difficulties, which I was toexamine into as many parcels as could be, and, as was requisite thebetter to resolve them. 

The third, to lead my thoughts in order, beginning by the most simpleobjects, and the easiest to be known; to rise by little and little, asby steps, even to the knowledg of the most mixt; and even supposing anOrder among those which naturally doe not precede one the other. 

And the last, to make every where such exact calculations, and suchgenerall reviews, That I might be confident to have omitted Nothing. 

Those long chains of reasons, (though simple and easie) which theGeometricians commonly use to lead us to their most difficultdemonstrations, gave me occasion to imagine, That all things which mayfall under the knowledg of Men, follow one the other in the same manner, and so we doe only abstain from receiving any one for true, which is notso, and observe alwayes the right order of deducing them one from theother, there can be none so remote, to which at last we shall notattain; nor so hid, which we shall not discover. Neither was I muchtroubled to seek by which it behooved me to begin, for I already knew, that it was by the most simple, and the easiest to be discern'd. Butconsidering, that amongst all those who formerly have sought the Truthin Learning, none but the Mathematicians only could finde anydemonstrations, that's to say, any certain and evident reasons. Idoubted not, but that it was by the same that they have examin'd;although I did hope for no other profit, but only that they wouldaccustome my Minde to nourish it self with Truths, and not content itself with false Reasons. But for all this, I never intended to endevourto learn all those particular Sciences which we commonly call'dMathematicall; And perceiving, that although their objects weredifferent, yet did they nevertheless agree altogether, in that theyconsider no other thing, but the divers relations or proportions whichare found therein; I thought it therefore better to examine thoseproportions in generall, and without supporting them but in thosesubjects, which might the more easily serve to bring me to the knowledgof them. But withall, without any wayes limiting them, That I mightafterwards the better sit them to all others whereto they might beapplyed. Having also observ'd, That to know them, it would be sometimesneedfull for me to consider every one in particular, or sometimes onlyto restrain them, or comprehend many together; I thought, that toconsider them the better in particular I ought to suppose them inlines, for as much as I find nothing more simple, nor which I could moredistinctly represent to my imagination, and to my sences; But to hold orcomprehend many in one, I was oblig'd to explain them by certain Cyphersthe shortest I possibly could, and that I should thereby borrow the bestof the Geometricall Analysis, and of Algebra, & so correct all thedefects of the one by the other. 

As in effect I dare say, That the exact observation of those fewprecepts I had chosen, gave me such a facility to resolve all thequestions whereto these two sciences extend; That in two or three monthsspace which I employed in the examination of them, having begun by themost simple and most generall, and every Truth which I found being arule which afterwards served me to discover others; I did not onlycompasse divers truths which I had formerly judged most difficult, Butme thought also that towards the end I could determin even in thosewhich I was ignorant of, by what means and how farr it was possible toresolve them. Wherein perhaps I shall not appear to be very vain if youconsider, That there being but one truth of every thing, who ever findsit, knows as much of it as one can know; And that for example a childinstructed in Arithmatick having made an addition according to hisrules, may be sure to have found, touching the sum he examined, all whatthe wit of man could finde out. In a word the method which teacheth tofolow a right order, and exactly to enumerate all the circumstances ofwhat we seek, contains, whatsoever ascertains the rules of Arithmatick. 

But that which pleas'd me most in this Method was the assurance I had, wholly to use my reason, if not perfectly, at least as much as it was inmy power; Besides this, I perceived in the practice of it, my minde bylittle and little accustom'd it self to conceive its objects moreclearly and distinctly; and having not subjected it to any particularmatter, I promised my self to apply it also as profitable to thedifficulties, of other sciences as I had to Algebra: Not that Itherefore durst at first undertake to examine all which might presentthemselves, for that were contrary to the order it prescribes. Buthaving observ'd that all their principles were to be borrowed fromPhilosophy, in which I had yet found none that were certain, I thoughtit were needfull for me in the first place to endevor to establish some, and that this being the most important thing in the world, whereinprecipitation and prevention were the most to be feared, I should notundertake to performe it, till I had attain'd to a riper Age then XXIII. Which was then mine. Before I had formerly employed a long time inpreparing my self thereunto, aswel in rooting out of my minde all theill opinions I had before that time received, as in getting a stock ofexperience to serve afterwards for the subject of my reasonings, and inexercising my self always in the Method I had prescribed. That I mightthe more and more confine my self therein. 

PART. III. 

But as it is not enough to pull down the house where we dwell, before webegin to re-edify it, and to make provision of materials and architects, or performe that office our selves; nor yet to have carefully laid thedesign of it; but we must also have provided our selves of some otherplace of abode during the time of the rebuilding: So that I might notremain irresolute in my actions, while reason would oblige me to be soin my judgments, and that I might continue to live the most happily Icould, I form'd for my own use in the interim a Moral, which consistedbut of three or four Maximes, which I shall communicate unto you. 

The first was to obey the lawes and customes of my Country, constantlyadhæring to that Religion wherein by the grace of God I had from mineinfancy bin bred. And in all other things behaving my self according tothe most moderate opinions and those which were farthest from excesse, which were commonly received in practice by the most judicious Men, amongst whom I was to live: For beginning from that very time, to reckonmine own for nothing, because I could bring them all to the test, I wasconfident I could not do better then follow those of the deepest sense;and although perhaps there are as understanding men amongst the Persiansor Chineses as amongst us, yet I thought it was more fit to regulate myself by those with whom I was to live, and that I might truly know whattheir opinions were, I was rather to observe what they practic'd, thenwhat they taught. Not only by reason of the corruption of our manners, there are but few who will say, all they beleeve, but also becausedivers are themselves ignorant of it; for the act of the thought bywhich we beleeve a thing, being different from that whereby we know thatwe believe it, the one often is without the other. And amongst diversopinions equally receiv'd, I made choise of the most moderate only, aswell because they are always the most fit for practice, and probably thebest, all excess being commonly ill; As also that I might less err fromthe right way, if I should perhaps miss it, then if having chosen one ofthe extremes, it might prove to be the other, which I should havefollowed. And particularly I plac'd amongst extremities, all thosepromises by which we somwhat restrain our liberty. Not that Idisapproved the laws, which to cure the inconstancy of weak minds, permit us when we have any good design, or else for the preservation ofCommerce, one that is but indifferent, to make vows or contracts, whichoblige us to persevere in them: But because I saw nothing in the worldremain always in the same state; and forming own particular, promised myself to perfect more and more my judgment, and not to impair it, Ishould have thought my self guilty of a great fault against rightunderstanding, if because I then approved any thing, I were alsoafterwards oblig'd to take it for good, when perhaps it ceased to be so, or that I had ceased to esteem it so. 

My second Maxime was, To be the most constant and resolute in my actionsthat I could; and to follow with no less perseverance the most doubtfullopinions, when I had once determined them, then if they had been themost certain. Imitating herein Travellers, who having lost their way ina Forrest, ought not to wander, turning now this way, and then that, andless to abide in one place; but stil advance straight forwards, towardsone way, and not to change on slight occasions, although perhaps atfirst Chance only mov'd them to determine that choice: For by thatmeans, if they do not go directly whither they desire, they will atleast arrive somewhere where they will probably be better then in themidst of a Forrest. So the actions of this life admitting often of nodelay, its a most certain Truth, That when it is not in our power todiscern the truest opinions, we are to follow the most probable: Yea, although we finde no more probability in the one then in the other, weyet ought to determine some way, considering them afterwards no more asdoubtful in what they relate to practice; but as most true and certain;forasmuch as the reason was so, which made us determine it. And this wassufficient for that time to free me from all the remorse and repentancewhich useth to perplex the consciences of those weak and staggeringminds, which inconstantly suffer themselves to passe to the practice ofthose things as good, which they afterwards judge evill. 

My third Maxime was, To endevour always rather to conquer my self thenFortune; and to change my desires, rather then the order of the world:and generally to accustome my self to beleeve, That there is nothingwholly in our power but our thoughts; so that after we have done ourbest, touching things which are without us, all whats wanting of successin respect of us is absolutely impossible. And this alone seem'dsufficient to hinder me from desiring any thing which I could notacquire, and so to render me content. For our will naturally moving usto desire nothing, but those things which our understanding presents insome manner as possible, certain it is, that if we consider all the goodwhich is without us, as equally distant from our power, we should haveno more regret for the want of those which seem due to our births, whenwithout any fault of ours we shall be deprived of them, then we have inwanting the possessions of the Kingdoms of _China_ or _Mexico_. Andmaking (as we say) vertue of necessity, we should no more desire to bein health being sick, or free being in prison, then we now do, to havebodies of as incorruptible a matter as diamonds, or wings to fly likebirds. But I confess, that a long exercise, and an often reiteratedmeditation, is necessary to accustom us to look on all things with thatbyass: And I beleeve, in this principally consists, the secret of thosePhilosophers who formerly could snatch themselves from the Empire ofFortune, and in spight of pains and poverty, dispute felicity with theirGods, for imploying themselves incessantly in considering the boundswhich Nature had prescribed them, they so perfectly perswadedthemselves, That nothing was in their power but their thoughts, that, that onely was enough to hinder them from having any affection for otherthings. And they disposed so absolutely of them, that therein they hadsome reason to esteem themselves more rich and powerfull, more free andhappy then any other men; who wanting this _Philosophy_, though theywere never so much favoured by Nature and Fortune, could never disposeof all things so well as they desired. 

Lastly, To conclude these Morals, I thought fit to make a review of mensseverall imployments in this life, that I might endeavour to make choiceof the best, and without prejudice to other mens, I thought I could notdo better then to continue in the same wherein I was, that is, to imployall my life in cultivating my Reason, and advancing my self, as far as Icould in the knowledge of Truth, following the Method I had prescribedmyself. I was sensible of such extreme contentment since I began to usethis Method, that I thought none could in this life be capable of anymore sweet and innocent: and daily discovering by means thereof, someTruths which seemed to me of importance, and commonly such as other menwere ignorant of, the satisfaction I thereby received did so possesse myminde, as if all things else concern'd me not. Besides, that the threepreceding Maximes were grounded only on the designe I had, to continuethe instruction of my self. For God having given to every one of us alight to discern truth from falsehood, I could not beleeve I ought tocontent my self one moment with the opinions of others, unlesse I hadproposed to my self in due time to imploy my judgment in the examinationof them. Neither could I have exempted my self from scruple in followingthem, had I not hoped to lose no occasion of finding out better, ifthere were any. 

But to conclude, I could not have bounded my desires, nor have beencontent, had I not followed a way, whereby thinking my self assured toacquire all the knowledge I could be capable of: I thought I might bythe same means attain to all that was truly good, which should ever bewithin my power; forasmuch as our Will inclining it self to follow, orfly nothing but what our Understanding proposeth good or ill, to judgewell is sufficient to do well, and to judge the best we can, to do alsowhat's best; to wit, to acquire all vertues, and with them allacquirable goods: and whosoever is sure of that, he can never fail ofbeing content. 

After I had thus confirmed my self with these Maximes, and laid them upwith the Articles of Faith, which always had the first place in myBelief, I judg'd that I might freely undertake to expell all the rest ofmy opinions. And forasmuch as I did hope to bring it the better to passeby conversing with men, then by staying any longer in my stove, where Ihad had all these thoughts: before the Winter was fully ended, Ireturned to my travels; and in all the nine following yeers I didnothing but rowl here and there about the world, endeavouring rather tobe a spectator, then an actor in all those Comedies which were actedtherein: and reflecting particularly on every subject which might renderit suspected, or afford any occasion mistake. In the mean time I rootedout of my minde all those errours which formerly had crept in. Not thatI therein imitated the Scepticks, who doubt onely to the end they maydoubt, and affect to be always unresolved: For on the contrary, all mydesigne tended onely to fix my self, and to avoid quick-mires and sands, that I might finde rock and clay: which (me thought) succeeded wellenough; forasmuch as, seeking to discover the falshood or uncertainty ofthose propositions I examined, (not by weak conjectures, but by clearand certain ratiocinations) I met with none so doubtfull, but I thencedrew some conclusion certain enough, were it but onely this, That itcontained nothing that was certain. And as in pulling down an old house, commonly those materials are reserved which may serve to build a newone; so in destroying all those my opinions which I judg'd ill grounded, I made divers observations, and got severall experiences which served mesince to establish more certain ones. And besides I continued toexercise my self in the Method I had prescribed. 

For I was not only carefull to direct all my thoughts in generallaccording to its rules, but I from time to time reserv'd some houres, which I particularly employd to practice it in difficulties belonging tothe Mathematicks, loosening from all the principles of other Sciences, which I found not stable enough, as you may see I have done in diversexplain'd in my other following discourses. And thus not living inappearance otherwise then those who having no other business then tolead a sweet and innocent life, study to separate pleasures from vices, and use honest recreations to enjoy their ease without wearinesse; I didnot forbear to pursue my design, and advance in the knowledg of truth, perhaps more, then if I had done nothing but read books or frequentlearned men. 

Yet these nine years were vanished, before I had engaged my self inthose difficulties which use to be disputed amongst the learned; orbegun to seek the grounds of any more certain Philosophy then theVulgar: And the example of divers excellent Men who formerly having hadthe same designe, seem'd not to me to have succeeded therein, made meimagine so much difficulty, that I had not perhaps dar'd so quickly tohave undertaken it, had I not perceiv'd that some already had given itout that I had already accomplished it. I know not whereupon theygrounded this opinion, and if I have contributed any thing thereto by mydiscourse, it must have been by confessing more ingeniously what I wasignorant of, then those are wont to do who have a little studyed, andperhaps also by comunicating those reasons, I had to doubt of manythings which others esteem'd most eminent, rather then that I bragg'd ofany learning. But having integrity enough, not to desire to be taken forwhat I was not, I thought that I ought to endeavour by all means torender my self worthy of the reputation which was given me. And 'tis noweight years since this desire made me resolve to estrange my self fromall places where I might have any acquaintance, and so retire my selfhither in a Country where the long continuance of the warre hathestablished such orders, that the Armies which are intertain'd there, seem to serve onely to make the inhabitants enjoy the fruits of peacewith so much the more security; and where amongst the croud of a greatpeople more active and solicitous for their own affaires, then curiousof other mens, not wanting any of those necessaries which are in themost frequented Towns, I could live as solitary and retired as in themost remote deserts. 

Part. IIII. 

I Know not whether I ought to entertain you with the first Meditationswhich I had there, for they are so Metaphysicall and so little common, that perhaps they will not be relished by all men: And yet that you mayjudge whether the foundations I have laid are firm enough, I find myself in a manner oblig'd to discourse them; I had long since observedthat as for manners, it was somtimes necessary to follow those opinionswhich we know to be very uncertain, as much as if they were indubitable, as is beforesaid: But because that then I desired onely to intend thesearch of truth, I thought I ought to doe the contrary, and reject asabsolutely false all wherein I could imagine the least doubt, to the endI might see if afterwards any thing might remain in my belief, not atall subject to doubt. Thus because our senses sometimes deceive us, Iwould suppose that there was nothing which was such as they representedit to us. And because there are men who mistake themselves in reasoning, even in the most simple matters of Geometry, and make thereinParalogismes, judging that I was as subject to fail as any other Man, Irejected as false all those reasons, which I had before taken forDemonstrations. And considering, that the same thoughts which we havewaking, may also happen to us sleeping, when as not any one of them istrue. I resolv'd to faign, that all those things which ever entred intomy Minde, were no more true, then the illusions of my dreams. Butpresently after I observ'd, that whilst I would think that all wasfalse, it must necessarily follow, that I who thought it, must besomething. And perceiving that this Truth, _I think_, therefore, _I am_, was so firm and certain, that all the most extravagant suppositions ofthe Scepticks was not able to shake it, I judg'd that I might receive itwithout scruple for the first principle of the Philosophy I sought. 

Examining carefully afterwards what I was; and seeing that I couldsuppose that I had no _body_, and that there was no _World_, nor any_place_ where I was: but for all this, I could not feign that I _wasnot_; and that even contrary thereto, thinking to doubt the truth ofother things, it most evidently and certainly followed, That _I was_:whereas, if I had ceas'd to _think_, although all the rest of what-everI had imagined were true, I had no reason to beleeve that _I had been_. I knew then that I was a substance, whose whole essence or nature is, but to _think_, and who to _be_, hath need of no place, nor depends onany materiall thing. So that this _Me_, to wit, my Soul, by which I amwhat I am, is wholly distinct from the Body, and more easie to be knownthen _it_; and although _that_ were not, it would not therefore cease tobe what it is. 

After this I considered in generall what is requisite in a Propositionto make it true and certain: for since I had found out one which I knewto be so, I thought I ought also to consider wherein that certaintyconsisted: and having observed, That there is nothing at all in this, _Ithink_, therefore _I am_, which assures me that I speak the truth, except this, that I see most cleerly, That _to think_, one must have a_being_; I judg'd that I might take for a generall rule, That thosethings which we conceive cleerly and distinctly, are all true; and thatthe onely difficulty is punctually to observe what those are which wedistinctly conceive. 

In pursuance whereof, reflecting on what I doubted, and thatconsequently my _being_ was not perfect; for I clearly perceived, thatit was a greater perfection to know, then to doubt, I advised in myself to seek from whence I had learnt to think on something which wasmore perfect then I; and I knew evidently that it must be of some naturewhich was indeed more perfect. As for what concerns the thoughts I hadof divers other things without my self, as of heaven, earth, light, heat, and a thousand more, I was not so much troubled to know whencethey came, for that I observed nothing in them which seemed to renderthem superiour to me; I might beleeve, that if they were true, they weredependancies from my nature, as far forth as it had any perfection; andif they were not, I made no accompt of them; that is to say, That theywere in me, because I had something deficient. But it could not be thesame with the _Idea_ of a being more perfect then mine: For to esteem ofit as of nothing, was a thing manifestly impossible. And because thereis no lesse repugnancy that the more perfect should succeed from anddepend upon the less perfect, then for something to proceed fromnothing, I could no more hold it from my self: So as it followed, thatit must have bin put into me by a Nature which was truly more perfectthen _I_, and even which had in it all the perfections whereof I couldhave an _Idea_; to wit, (to explain my self in one word) God. Whereto Iadded, that since I knew some perfections which I had not, I was not theonely _Being_ which had an existence, (I shall, under favour, use herefreely the terms of the Schools) but that of necessity there must besome other more perfect whereon I depended, and from whom I had gottenall what I had: For had I been alone, and depending upon no other thing, so that I had had of my self all that little which I participated of aperfect Being, I might have had by the same reason from my self, all theremainder which I knew I wanted, and so have been my self infinite, eternall, immutable, all-knowing, almighty; and lastly, have had allthose perfections which I have observed to be in God. For according tothe way of reasoning I have now followed, to know the nature of God, asfar as mine own was capable of it, I was onely to consider of thosethings of which I found an _Idea_ in me, whether the possessing of themwere a perfection or no; and I was sure, that any of those which had anyimperfections were not in him, but that all others were. I saw thatdoubtfulness, inconstancy, sorrow and the like, could not be in him, seeing I could my self have wish'd to have been exempted from them. Besides this, I had the _Ideas_ of divers sensible and corporeallthings; for although I supposed that I doted, and that all that I saw orimagined was false; yet could I not deny but that these _Ideas_ weretruly in my thoughts. But because I had most evidently known in my self, That the understanding Nature is distinct from the corporeall, considering that all composition witnesseth a dependency, and thatdependency is manifestly a defect, I thence judged that it could not bea perfection in God to be composed of those two Natures; and that byconsequence he was not so composed. But that if there were any Bodies inthe world, or els any intelligences, or other Natures which were notwholly perfect, their being must depend from his power in such a manner, that they could not subsist one moment without him. 

Thence I went in search of other Truths; and having proposed _Geometry_for my object, which I conceived as a continued Body, or a spaceindefinitely spred in length, bredth, height or depth, divisible intodivers parts, which might take severall figures and bignesses, and bemoved and transposed every way. For the Geometricians suppose all thisin their object. I past through some of their most simpledemonstrations; and having observed that this great certaintie, whichall the world grants them, is founded only on this, that men evidentlyconceived them, following the rule I already mentioned. I observed alsothat there was nothing at all in them which ascertain'd me of theexistence of their object. As for example, I well perceive, thatsupposing a Triangle, three angles necessarily must be equall to tworight ones: but yet nevertheless I saw nothing which assured me thatthere was a Triangle in the world. Whereas returning to examine the_Idea_ which I had of a perfect Being, _I_ found its existence comprisedin it, in the same manner as it was comprised in that of a Triangle, where the three angles are equall to two right ones; or in that of asphere, where all the parts are equally distant from the center. Or evenyet more evidently, and that by consequence, it is at least as certainthat God, who is that perfect Being, is, or exists, as any demonstrationin Geometry can be. 

But that which makes many perswade themselves that there is difficultyin knowing it, as also to know what their Soul is, 'tis that they neverraise their thoughts beyond sensible things, and that they are soaccustomed to consider nothing but by imagination, which is a particularmanner of thinking on materiall things, that whatsoever is notimaginable seems to them not intelligible. Which is manifest enough fromthis, that even the Philosophers hold for a Maxime in the Schools, Thatthere is nothing in the understanding which was not first in the sense;where notwithstanding its certain, that the _Ideas_ of God and of theSoul never were. And (me thinks) those who use their imagination tocomprehend them, are just as those, who to hear sounds, or smell odours, would make use of their eys; save that there is yet this difference, That the sense of seeing assures us no lesse of the truth of itsobjects, then those of smelling or hearing do: whereas neither ourimagination, nor our senses, can ever assure us of any thing, if ourunderstanding intervenes not. 

To be short, if there remain any who are not enough perswaded of theexistence of God, and of their soul, from the reasons I have produc'd, Iwould have them know, that all other things, whereof perhaps they thinkthemselves more assured, as to have a body, and that there are Stars, and an earth, and the like, are less certain. For although we had such amorall assurance of these things, that without being extravagant wecould not doubt of them. However, unless we be unreasonable when ametaphysicall certainty is in question, we cannot deny but we have causeenough not to be wholly confirmed in them, when we consider that in thesame manner we may imagine being asleep, we have other bodies, and thatwe see other Stars, and another earth, though there be no such thing. For how doe we know that those thoughts which we have in our dreams, are rather false then the others, seeing often they are no less livelyand significant, and let the ablest men study it as long as they please, I beleeve they can give no sufficient reason to remove this doubt, unless they presuppose the existence of God. For first of all, thatwhich I even now took for a rule, to wit, that those things which weremost clearly and distinctly conceived, are all true, is certain, only byreason, that God is or exists, and that he is a perfect being, and thatall which we have comes from him. Whence it follows, that our Idea's ornotions, being reall things, and which come from God in all wherein theyare clear and distinct, cannot therein be but true. So that if we havevery often any which contain falshood, they cannot be but of such thingswhich are somewhat confus'd and obscure, because that therein theysignifie nothing to us, that's to say, that they are thus confus'd in usonly, because we are not wholly perfect. And it's evident that there isno less contrariety that falshood and imperfection should proceed fromGod, as such, then there is in this, that truth and falshood proceedfrom nothing. But if we know not that whatsoever was true and reall inus comes from a perfect and infinite being, how clear and distinctsoever our Idea's were, we should have no reason to assure us, that theyhad the perfection to be true. 

Now after that the knowledge of God, and of the Soul hath rendred usthus certain of this rule, it's easie to know; that the extravaganceyswhich we imagin in our sleep, ought no way to make us doubt of the truthof those thoughts which we have being awake: For if it should happen, that even sleeping we should have a very distinct Idea; as for example, A Geometritian should invent some new demonstration, his sleeping wouldnot hinder it to be true. And for the most ordinary error of ourdreames, which consists in that they represent unto us severall objectsin the same manner as our exterior senses doe, it matters not though itgive us occasion to mistrust the truth of those Ideas, because that theymay also often enough cozen us when we doe not sleep; As when to thosewho have the Jaundies, all they see seems yellow; or, as the Stars orother bodies at a distance, appear much less then they are. For in fine, whether we sleep or wake, we ought never to suffer our selves to beperswaded but by the evidence of our Reason; I say, (which isobservable) Of our Reason, and not of our imagination, or of our senses. As although we see the Sun most clearly, we are not therefore to judgehim to be of the bigness we see him of; and we may well distinctlyimagine the head of a Lion, set on the body of a Goat, but therefore weought not to conclude that there is a _Chimera_ in the world. For reasondoth not dictate to us, that what we see or imagine so, is true: But itdictates, that all our Idea's or notions ought to have some grounds oftruth; For it were not possible, that God who is all perfect, and alltruth, should have put them in us without that: And because that ourreasonings are never so evident, nor so entire while we sleep, as whenwe wake, although sometimes our imaginations be then as much or morelively and express. It also dictates to us, that our thoughts, seeingthey cannot be all true by reason that we are not wholly perfect; whatthey have of truth, ought infallibly to occur in those which we havebeing awake, rather then in our dreams. 

Part. V. 

I should be glad to pursue this Discourse, and shew you the whole Seriesof the following Truths, which I have drawn from the former: But becausefor this purpose, it were now necessary for me to treat of severallquestions, which are controverted by the learned, with whom I have nodesire to imbroil my self, I beleeve it better for me to abstain fromit; and so in generall onely to discover what they are, that I may leavethe wisest to judge whether it were profitable to inform the publickmore particularly of them. I alwayes remained constant to my resolution, to suppose no other Principle but that which I now made use of, for thedemonstration of the Existence of God, and of the Soul; and to receivenothing for true, which did not seem to me more clear and more certainthen the demonstrations of Geometry had formerly done. And yet I daresay, that I have not onely found out the means to satisfie my self, in ashort time, concerning all the principall difficulties which are usuallytreated in Philosophy. But that also _I_ have observed certain Lawswhich God hath so established in Nature, and of which he hath imprintedsuch notions in our Souls, that when we shall have made sufficientreflections upon them we cannot doubt but that they are exactly observedin whatsoever either is, or is done in the World. Then considering theconnexion of these Laws, me thinks, I have discovercd divers Truths, more usefull and important then whatever _I_ learn'd before, or everhop'd to learn. 

But because _I_ have endeavoured to lay open the principall of them in aTreatise, which some considerations hinder me from publishing; _I_ canno way better make them known, then by relating summarily what itcontains. 

I had a designe to comprehend all what I thought _I_ knew, before _I_would write it, touching the nature of material things. But even asPainters, not being able equally well to represent upon a _flat_ all theseverall facies of a solid body, chuse the principall of them, whichthey place towards the light; and shadowing the others, make them appearno more then they do to our sight: So, fearing lest _I_ should not bringinto this Discourse all which was in my thoughts, _I_ onely undertook toset forth at large my conceptions touching the light; and upon thatoccasion to add somewhat of the Sun, and of the fix'd Stars, by reasonthat it proceeds almost all from thence; of the Heavens, because theytransmit it; of the Planets, of the Comets, and of the Earth, becausethey cause it to reflect; and in particular, of all Bodies which are onthe earth, whether for that they are either coloured, or transparent, orluminous; and last of all, of Man, because he is the Spectator thereof. As also, in some manner to shadow out all these things, and that _I_might the more freely speak what _I_ judg'd, without being obliged tofollow, or to refute the opinions which are received amongst theLearned, _I_ resolved to leave all this world here to their disputes, and to speak onely of what would happen in a new one, if God now createdsome where in those imaginary spaces matter enough to compose it, andthat he diversly and without order agitated the severall parts of thismatter, so as to compose a Chaos of it as confused as the Poets couldfeign one: and that afterwards he did nothing but lend his ordinaryconcurrence to Nature, and leave her to work according to the Laws hehath established. 

Thus first of all _I_ described this Matter, and endevoured torepresent it such, that me thinks there is nothing in the world moreclear, or more intelligible, except what was beforesaid of God, and ofthe Soul. For even _I_ expresly supposed that there was in it none ofthose forms and qualities which are disputed in the Schools; norgenerally any thing but that the knowledge thereof was so naturall toour understandings, that we could not even feigne to be ignorant of it. Besides, I made known what the Laws of Nature were; and withoutgrounding my reasons on any other principles, but on the infiniteperfections of God, I did endeavour to demonstrate all those which mightbe questioned, and to make them appear to be such, that although God hadcreated divers worlds, there could have been none where they were notobserved. Afterwards _I_ shewed how the greater part of the Matter ofthis _Chaos_ ought, according to those Laws, to dispose and order itself in a certain manner, which would make it like our Heavens: And howsome of these parts were to compose an Earth, and some Planets andCommets, some others a Sun and fix'd Starrs. And here enlarging my selfon the subject of Light, _I_ at length explain'd what that light was, which was to be in the Sun and Stars; and thence how it travers'd in aninstant the immense spaces of the Heavens, and how it reflected it selffrom Planets and Commets towards the Earth. _I_ added also divers thingstouching the substance, situation, the motions, and all the severalqualities of these heavens and these stars: So that _I_ thought _I_ hadsaid enough to make known, That there is nothing remarkable in those ofthis world, which ought not, or at least could not appear altogetherlike to these of that world which _I_ described. 

Thence _I_ came to speak particularly of the Earth; how, although I hadexpresly supposed, that God had placed no weight in the Matter whereofit was composed; yet all its parts exactly tended towards its center:How that there being water and air upon its superficies, the dispositionof the Heavens, and of the Starrs, and chiefly of the Moon, ought tocause a floud and an ebb, which in all circumstances was like to thatwhich we observe in our Seas; And besides, a certain course aswel of thewater, as of the air, from East to West, as is also observed between theTropicks: How the Mountains, the Seas, the Springs and Rivers mightnaturally be form'd therein, and Metals run in the mines, and Plantsgrow in the Fields, and generally all bodies be therein engendered whichare call'd mixt or composed. 

And amongst other things, because that next the Stars, I know nothing inthe world but Fire, which produceth light, I studied to make all clearlyunderstood which belongs to its nature; how it's made, how it's fed, how sometimes it hath heat onely without light, and sometimes onelylight without heat; how it can introduce several colours into severalbodies, and divers other qualities; how it dissolves some, and hardensothers; how it can consume almost all, or convert them into ashes andsmoak: and last of all, how of those ashes, by the only violence of itsaction, it forms glass. For this transmutation of ashes into glass, seeming to me to be as admirable as any other operation in Nature, Iparticularly took pleasure to describe it. 

Yet would I not inferre from all these things, that this World wascreated after the manner I had proposed. For it is more probable thatGod 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 theaction whereby he now preserveth it, is the same with that by which hecreated it. So that, although at the beginning he had given it no otherform but that of a Chaos (provided, that having established the Laws ofNature, 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) thatby that alone all things which are purely material might in time haverendred themselves such as we now see them: and their nature is fareasier to conceive, when by little and little we see them brought forthso, then when we consider them quite form'd all at once. 

From the description of inanimate Bodies and Plants, I pass'd to that ofAnimals, and particularly to that of Men. But because I had not yetknowledge enough to speak of them in the same stile as of the others; towit, in demonstrating effects by their causes, and shewing from whatseeds, and in what manner Nature ought to produce them; I contented myself to suppose, That God form'd the body of a Man altogether like oneof ours; aswel the exteriour figure of its members, as in the interiourconformity of its organs; without framing it of other matter then ofthat which I had described; and without putting in it at the beginningany reasonable soul, or any other thing to serve therein for avegetative or sensitive soul; unless he stirr'd up in his heart one ofthose fires without light which I had already discovered; and that Iconceiv'd of no other nature but that which heats hay when its housedbefore it be dry, or which causes new Wines to boyl when it works uponthe grape: For examining the functions which might be consequently inthis body, I exactly found all those which may be in us, without ourthinking of them; and to which our soul (that is to say, that distinctpart from our bodies, whose nature (as hath been said before) is onelyto think) consequently doth not contribute, and which are all the samewherein we may say unreasonable creatures resemble us. Yet could I notfinde any, of those which depending from the thought, are the onely oneswhich belong unto us as Men; whereas I found them all afterwards, havingsupposed that God created a reasonable soul, and that he joyn'd it tothis body, after a certain manner which I describ'd. 

But that you might see how I treated this matter, I shall here presentyou with the explication of the motion of the heart, and of thearteries, which being the first and most general (which is observed inanimals) we may thereby easily judge what we ought to think of all therest. And that we may have the less difficulty to understand what Ishall say thereof, I wish those who are not versed in Anatomy, wouldtake the pains, before they read this, to cause the heart of some greatanimal which hath lungs, to be dissected; for in all of them its verylike that of a Man: and that they may have shewn them the two cels orconcavities which are there: First that on the right side, whereto twolarge conduits answer, to wit, the _vena cava_, which is the principalreceptacle of bloud, and as the body of a tree, whereof all the otherveins of the body are branches; and the arterious vein, which was somis-call'd, because that in effect its an artery, which taking its_origine_ from the heart, divides it self after being come forth, intodivers branches, which every way spred themselves through the lungs. Then the other which is on the left side, whereunto in the same mannertwo pipes answer, which are as large, or larger then the former; to wit, the veinous artery, which was also il named, forasmuch as its nothingelse but a vein which comes from the lungs, where its divided intoseveral branches interlaid with those of the arterious vein, and thoseof that pipe which is called the Whistle, by which the breath enters. And the great artery, which proceeding from the heart, disperseth itsbranches thorow all the body. I would also that they would carefullyobserve the eleven little skins, which, as so many little doors, openand shut the four openings which are in these two concavities; to wit, three at the entry of the _vena cava_, where they are so disposed, thatthey can no wayes hinder the bloud which it contains from running intothe right concavity of the heart; and yet altogether hinder it fromcoming out. Three at the entry of the arterious vein; which beingdisposed quite contrary, permit only the bloud which is in thatconcavity to pass to the lungs; but not that which is in the lungs toreturn 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, butopposeth its return. And three at the entry of the great artery, whichpermit it to go from the heart, but hinder its return thither. Neitherneed we seek any other reason for the number of these skins, save onlythat the opening of the veinous artery, being oval-wise, by reason ofits situation, may be fitly shut with two; whereas the other, beinground, may the better be clos'd with three. Besides, I would have themconsider, that the great artery and the arterious vein are of acomposition much stronger then the veinous artery or the _vena 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, whichare composed of a flesh like it; and that there is always more heat inthe heart then in any other part of the body. And in fine, that if anydrop of bloud enter into these concavities, this heat is able to make itpresently swell and dilate it self, as generally all liquors do, whendrop by drop we let them fall into a very hot vessel. 

For after this I need say no more for to unfold the motion of theheart, but that when these concavities are not full of bloud, necessarily there runs some from the _vena cava_ into the right, andfrom the veinous artery into the left; for that these two vessels arealways full of it, and that their openings which are towards the heartcannot then be shut: But that assoon as there is thus but two drops ofbloud entred, one in either of these concavities, these drops, whichcannot but be very big, by reason that their openings whereby they enterare very large, and the vessels whence they come very full of bloud, arerarified and dilated because of the heat which they find therein. Bymeans whereof, causing all the heart to swel, they drive and shut thefive little doors which are at the entry of the two vessels whence theycome, hindering thereby any more bloud to fall down into the heart, andcontinuing more and more to rarifie themselves, they drive and open thesix other little doors which are at the entry of the other two vesselswhence they issue, causing by that means all the branches of thearterious vein, and of the great artery, to swel (as it were) at thesame time with the heart: which presently after fals, as those arteriesalso do, by reason that the bloud which is entred therein grows colder, and their six little doors shut up again, and those five of the _venacava_, and of the veinous artery open again, and give way to two otherdrops of bloud, which again swell the heart and the arteries in the samemanner as the preceding did. And because the bloud which thus entersinto the heart, passeth thorow those two purses, which are call'd theears; thence it comes, that their motion is contrary to the heart's, andthat 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 not venture to deny this without examining it, I shall advertisethem, that this motion which I have now discovered, as necessarilyfollows from the onely disposition of the organs (which may plainly beseen in the heart, ) and from the heat (which we may feel with ourfingers, ) and from the nature of the bloud (which we may know byexperience, ) as the motions of a clock doth by the force, situation andfigure of its weight and wheels. 

But if it be asked, how it comes that the bloud of the veins is notexhausted, running so continually into the heart; and how that thearteries are not too full, since all that which passeth thorow the heartdischargeth it self into them: I need answer nothing thereto but whathath been already writ by an English Physician, to whom this praise mustbe given, to have broken the ice in this place, and to be the first whotaught us, That there are several little passages in the extremity ofthe arteries whereby the bloud which they receive from the heart, enters the little branches of the veins; whence again it sends it selfback towards the heart: so that its course is no other thing but aperpetuall circulation. Which he very wel proves by the ordinaryexperience of Chirurgians, who having bound the arm indifferently hardabove the the place where they open the vein, which causeth the bloud toissue more abundantly, then if it had not been bound. And the contrarywould happen, were it bound underneath, between the hand and theincision, or bound very hard above. For its manifest, that the bandindifferently tyed, being able to hinder the bloud which is already inthe arm to return towards the heart by the veins; yet it thereforehinders not the new from coming always by the arteries, by reason theyare placed under the veins, and that their skin being thicker, are lesseasie to be press'd, as also that the bloud which comes from the heart, seeks more forcibly to passe by them towards the hand, then it doth toreturn from thence towards the heart by the veins. And since this bloudwhich issues from the arm by the incision made in one of the veins, mustnecessarily have some passage under the bond, to wit, towards theextremities of the arm, whereby it may come thither by the arteries, healso proves very well what he sayes of the course of the bloud throughcertain little skins, which are so disposed in divers places along theveins, which permit it not to pass from the middle towards theextremities, but onely to return from the extremities towards the heart. And besides this, experience shews, That all the bloud which is in thebody 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 andthe ligature: So that we could have no reason to imagine that the bloudwhich issued thence could come from any other part. 

But there are divers other things which witness, that the true cause ofthis motion of the bloud is that which I have related. As first, Thedifference observed between that which issues out of the veins, and thatwhich comes out of the arteries, cannot proceed but from its beingrarified and (as it were) distilled by passing thorow the heart: itsmore 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 itenters them, that is to say, in the veins. And if you observe, you willfinde, that this difference appears not well but about the heart; andnot so much in those places which are farther off. Next, the hardnesseof the skin of which the artery vein and the great artery are composed, sheweth sufficiently, that the bloud beats against them more forciblythen against the veins. And why should the left concavity of the heart, and the great artery be more large and ample then the right concavity, and the arterious vein; unless it were that the bloud of the veinousartery, having bin but onely in the lungs since its passage thorow theheart, is more subtil, and is rarified with more force and ease then thebloud which immediately comes from the _vena cava_. And what can thePhysicians divine by feeling of the pulse, unlesse they know, thataccording as the bloud changeth its nature, it may by the heat of theheart be rarified to be more or lesse strong, and more or lesse quickthen before. And if we examine how this heat is communicated to theother members, must we not avow that 'tis by means of the bloud, whichpassing the heart, reheats it self there, and thence disperseth it selfthorow the whole body: whence it happens, that if you take away thebloud from any part, the heat by the same means also is taken a way. Andalthough the heart were as burning as hot iron, it were not sufficientto warm the feet and the hands so often as it doth, did it not continueto furnish them with new bloud. 

Besides, from thence we know also that the true use of respiration is tobring fresh air enough to the lungs, to cause that bloud which comesfrom the right concavity of the heart, where it was rarified, and (as itwere) chang'd into vapours, there to thicken, and convert it self intobloud again, before it fall again into the left, without which it wouldnot 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 lungshave but one onely concavity in the heart; and that children, who canmake no use of them when they are in their mothers bellies, have anopening, by which the bloud of the _vena cava_ runs to the leftconcavity of the heart, and a conduit by which it comes from thearterious vein into the great artery without passing the lungs. 

Next, How would the concoction be made in the stomach, unlesse the heartsent heat by the arteries, and therewithall some of the most fluid partsof the bloud, which help to dissolve the meat receiv'd therein? and isnot the act which converts the juice of these meats into bloud easie tobe known, if we consider, that it is distill'd by passing and repassingthe heart, perhaps more then one or two hundred times a day? And whatneed we ought else to explain the nutrition and the production of divershumours which are in the body, but to say, that the force wherewith thebloud in rarifying it self, passeth from the heart towards theextremities or the arteries, causeth some of its parts to stay amongstthose of the members where they are, and there take the place of someothers, which they drive from thence? And that according to thesituation, or the figure, or the smalnesse of the pores which theymeet, some arrive sooner in one place then others. In the same manneras we may have seen in severall sieves, which being diversly pierc'd, serve to sever divers grains one from the other. And briefly, that whichis most remarkable herein, is the generation of the animal spirits, which are as a most subtil wind, or rather, as a most pure and livelyflame, which continually rising in great abundance from the heart to thebrain, dischargeth it self thence by the nerves into the muscles, andgives motion to all the members; without imagining any other reasonwhich might cause these parts of the bloud, which being most mov'd, andthe most penetrating, are the most fit to form these spirits, tendrather towards the brain, then to any other part. Save onely that thearteries which carry them thither, are those which come from the heartin the most direct line of all: And that according to the rules of theMechanicks, which are the same with those of Nature, when divers thingstogether 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 hearttend towards the brain, the weaker and less agitated are expell'd by thestronger, who by that means arrive there alone. 

I had particularly enough expounded all these things in a Treatise whichI formerly had design'd to publish: In pursuit whereof, I had thereinshewed what ought to be the fabrick of the nerves and muscles of anhumane body, to cause those animall spirits which were in them, to havethe power to move those members. As we see that heads a while after theyare cut off, yet move of themselves, and bite the ground, although theyare not then animated. What changes ought to be made in the brain tocause waking, sleeping, and dreaming: how light, sounds, smels, tasts, heat, and all other qualities of exteriour objects, might imprintseverall _Ideas_ by means of the senses. How hunger and thirst, and theother interiour passions might also send theirs thither. What ought tobe taken therein for common sense, where these _Ideas_ are received; formemory which preserves them; and for fancy, which can diversly changethem, and form new ones of them; and by the same means, distributing theanimal spirits into the muscles, make the members of the body move in somany severall fashions, and as fitly to those objects which presentthemselves to its senses; and to the interiour passions which are inthem, as ours may move themselves without the consent of the Wil. Whichwil seem nothing strange to those, who knowing how many _Automatas_ ormoving Machines the industry of men can make, imploying but very fewpieces, in comparison of the great abundance of bones, muscles, nerves, arteries, veins, and all the other parts which are in the body of everyAnimal, will consider this body as a fabrick, which having been made bythe hands of God, is incomparably better ordered, and hath moreadmirable motions in it then any of those which can be invented by men. And herein I particularly insisted, to make it appear, that if therewere such Machines which had organs, and the exteriour figure of an Ape, or of any other unreasonable creature, we should finde no means ofknowing them not to be altogether of the same nature as those Animals:whereas, if there were any which resembled our bodies, and imitated ouractions as much as morally it were possible, we should always have twomost 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, norof other signes in framing it, as we have, to declare our thoughts toothers: for we may well conceive, that a Machine may be so made, that itmay utter words, and even some proper to the corporal actions, whichmay cause some change in its organs; as if we touch it in some part, andit should ask what we would say; or so as it might cry out that onehurts it, and the like: but not that they can diversifie them to answersensibly to all what shall be spoken in its presence, as the dullest menmay do. And the second is, That although they did divers things aswel, or perhaps better, then any of us, they must infallibly fail in someothers, whereby we might discover that they act not with knowledge, butonely by the disposition of their organs: for whereas Reason is anuniversal instrument which may serve in all kinde of encounters, theseorgans have need of some particular disposition for every particularaction: whence it is, that its morally impossible for one Machine tohave severall organs enough to make it move in all the occurrences ofthis life, in the same manner as our Reason makes us move. Now by thesetwo means we may also know the difference which is between Men andBeasts: For 'tis a very remarkable thing, that there are no men so dulland so stupid, without excepting those who are out of their wits, butare capable to rank severall words together, and of them to compose aDiscourse, by which they make known their thoughts: and that on thecontrary, there is no other creature, how perfect or happily soeverbrought forth, which can do the like. The which happens, not becausethey want organs; for we know, that Pyes and Parrots can utter wordseven as we can, and yet cannot speak like us; that is to say, withevidence that they think what they say. Whereas Men, being born deaf anddumb, and deprived of those organs which seem to make others speak, asmuch or more then beasts, usually invent of themselves to be understoodby those, who commonly being with them, have the leisure to learn theirexpressions. And this not onely witnesseth, that Beasts have lessereason than men, but that they have none at all. For we see there needsnot much to learn to speak: and forasmuch as we observe inequalityamongst Beasts of the same kind, aswell as amongst men, and that someare more easily managed then others; 'tis not to be believed, but thatan Ape or a Parrot which were the most perfect of its kinde, shouldtherein equall the most stupid child, or at least a child of adistracted brain, if their souls were not of a nature wholly differentfrom ours. And we ought not to confound words with naturall motions, which witness passions, and may be imitated by Machines aswell as byAnimals; nor think (as some of the Ancients) that beasts speak, althoughwe do not understand their language: for if it were true, since theyhave divers organs which relate to ours, they could aswell makethemselves understood by us, as by their like. Its likewise veryremarkable that although there are divers creatures which express moreindustry 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 dobetter then we, proves not at all that they have reason; for by thatreckoning they would have more then any of us, and would do better inall other things; but rather, that they have none at all, and that itsNature onely which works in them according to the disposition of theirorgans. As wee see a Clock, which is onely composed of wheels andsprings, can reckon the hours, and measure the times more exactly thenwe can with all our prudence. 

After this I had described the reasonable Soul, and made it appear, thatit could no way be drawn from the power of the Matter, as other thingswhereof I had spoken; but that it ought to have been expresly created:And how it suffiseth not for it to be lodg'd in our humane body as aPilot in his ship, to move its members onely; but also that itsnecessary it be joyned and united more strongly therewith to havethoughts and appetites like ours, and so make a reall man. 

I have here dilated my self a little on the subject of the Soul, byreason 'tis of most importance; for, next the errour of those who denyGod, which I think I have already sufficiently confuted, there is nonewhich sooner estrangeth feeble minds from the right way of vertue, thento imagine that the soul of beasts is of the same nature as ours, andthat consequently we have nothing to fear nor hope after this life, nomore then flies or ants. Whereas, when we know how different they are, we comprehend much better the reasons which prove that ours is of anature wholly independing from the body, and consequently that it is notsubject to die with it. And that when we see no other cause whichdestroys it, we are naturally thence moved to judge that it's immortall. 

PART. VI. 

Its now three years since I ended the Treatise which contains all thesethings, and that I began to review it, to send it afterwards to thePresse, when I understood, that persons to whom I submit, and whoseauthority can no lesse command my actions, then my own Reason doth mythoughts, had disapproved an opinion in Physicks, published a littlebefore by another; of which I will not say that I was, but that indeed Ihad observed nothing therein, before their censure, which I could haveimagined prejudiciall either to Religion or the State; or consequently, which might have hindred me from writing the same, had my Reasonperswaded mee thereto. And this made me fear, lest in the same mannerthere might be found some one amongst mine, in which I might have beenmistaken; notwithstanding the great care I always had to admit no newones into my belief, of which I had not most certain demonstrations; andnot to write such as might turn to the disadvantage of any body. Whichwas sufficient to oblige me to change my resolution of publishing them. For although the reasons for which I had first of all taken it, werevery strong; yet my inclination, which alwayes made me hate the trade ofBook-making, presently found me out others enough to excuse my self fromit. And these reasons on the one and other side are such, that I am notonly somewhat concern'd to speak them; but happily the Publick also toknow them. 

I never did much esteem those things which proceeded from mine ownbrain; and so long as I have gathered no other fruits from the Method Iuse, but onely that I have satisfied my self in some difficulties whichbelong to speculative Sciences, or at least endeavoured to regulate myManners by the reasons it taught me, I thought my self not obliged towrite any thing of them. For, as for what concerns Manners, every oneabounds so much in his own sense, That we may finde as many Reformers asheads, were it permitted to others, besides those whom God hathestablished as Soveraigns over his people, or at least, to whom he hathdispensed grace and zeal enough to be Prophets, to undertake the changeof any thing therein. And although my Speculations did very much pleaseme, I did beleeve that other men also had some, which perhaps pleas'dthem more. But as soon as I had acquired some generall notions touchingnaturall Philosophy, and beginning to prove them in divers particulardifficulties, I observed how far they might lead a man, and how fardifferent they were from the principles which to this day are in use; Ijudg'd, that I could not keep them hid without highly sinning againstthe Law, which obligeth us to procure, as much as in us lies, thegeneral good of all men. For they made it appear to me, that it waspossible to attain to points of knowledge, which may be very profitablefor this life: and that in stead of this speculative Philosophy which istaught in the Schools, we might finde out a practicall one, by whichknowing the force and workings of Fire, Water, Air, of the Starrs, ofthe Heavens, and of all other Bodies which environ us, distinctly, as weknow the several trades of our Handicrafts, we might in the same manneremploy them to all uses to which they are fit, and so become masters andpossessours of Nature. Which is not onely to be desired for theinvention of very many expedients of Arts, which without trouble mightmake us enjoy the fruits of the earth, and all the conveniences whichare to be found therein: But chiefly also for the preservation ofhealth, which (without doubt) is the first good, and the foundation ofall other good things in this life. For even the minde depends so muchon the temper and disposition of the organs of the body, that if it bepossible to finde any way of making men in the generall wiser, and moreable then formerly they were, I beleeve it ought to be sought inPhysick. True it is, that which is now in use contains but few things, whose benefit is very remarkable: But (without any designe of slightingof it) I assure my self, there is none, even of their own profession, but will consent, that whatsoever is known therein, is almost nothing incompanion of what remains to be known. And that we might be freed fromvery many diseases, aswell of the body as of the mind, and even alsoperhaps from the weaknesses of old age, had we but knowledge enough oftheir Causes, and of all the Remedies wherewith Nature hath furnishedus. Now having a designe to employ all my life in the enquiry of sonecessary a Science; and having found a way, the following of which methinks might infallibly lead us to it, unless we be hindred by theshortness of life, or by defect of experiments. I judg'd that there wasno better Remedie against those two impediments, but faithfully tocommunicate to the publique, all that little I should discover, and toinvite all good Wits to endevour to advance farther in contributingevery one, according to his inclination and power, to those Experimentswhich are to be made, and communicating also to the publique all thethings they should learn; so that the last, beginning where theprecedent 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 themore necessary, as we are more advanc'd in knowledg. For in thebeginning it's better to use those only which of themselves arepresented to our senses, and which we cannot be ignorant of, if we dobut make the least reflections upon them, then to seek out the rarestand most studied ones. The reason whereof is, that those which arerarest, doe often deceive, when we seldome know the same of the mostcommon ones, and that the circumstances on which they depend, are, as itwere, always so particular, and so small, that it's very uneasie tofinde them out. But the order I observed herein was this. First, Iendevoured to finde in generall the Principles or first Causes ofwhatsoever is or may be in the world, without considering any thing forthis end, but God alone who created it, or drawing them elsewhere, thenfrom certain seeds of Truth which naturally are in our souls. Afterthis, I examined what were the first and most ordinary Effects whichmight be deduced from these Causes: And me thinks that thereby I foundout Heavens, Starrs, an Earth; and even on the Earth, Water, Air andFire, Minerals, and some other such like things, which are the mostcommon, and the most simple of all, and consequently the most easie tobe understood. Afterwards, when I would descend to those which were moreparticular, there were so many severall ones presented themselves to me, that I did beleeve it impossible for a humane understanding todistinguish the forms and species of Bodies which are on the earth, froman infinite number of others which might be there, had it been the willof God so to place them: Nor by consequence to apply them to our use, unless we set the Effects before the Causes, and make use of diversparticular experiments; In relation to which, revolving in my minde allthose objects which ever were presented to my senses, I dare boldly say, I observed nothing which I could not fitly enough explain by theprinciples I had found. But I must also confesse that the power ofNature is so ample and vast, and these principles are so simple andgenerall, that I can observe almost no particular Effect, but that Ipresently know it might be deduced from thence in many severall ways:and that commonly my greatest difficulty is to finde in which of theseways it depends thereon; for I know no other expedient for that, butagain to seek some experiments, which may be such, that their event maynot 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 ofthose experiments which may tend to this effect. But I also see theyare 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 forall. So that according as I shall hereafter have conveniency to makemore or fewer of them, I shall also advance more or lesse in theknowledge of Nature, which I hop'd I should make known by the Treatisewhich I had written; and therein so clearly shew the benefit which thePublick may receive thereby, that I should oblige all those in generalwho desire the good of Mankinde; that is to say, all those who areindeed vertuous, (and not so seemingly, or by opinion only) aswell tocommunicate such experiments as they have already made, as to help me inthe enquiry of those which are to be made. 

But since that time, other reasons have made me alter my opinion, andthink that I truly ought to continue to write of all those things whichI judg'd of any importance, according as I should discover the truth ofthem, and take the same care, as if I were to print them; as well that Imight have so much the more occasion throughly to examine them; aswithout doubt, we always look more narrowly to what we offer to thepublick view, then to what we compose onely for our own use: andoftentimes the same things which seemed true to me when I firstconceived them, appear'd afterwards false to me, when I was committingthem to paper: as also that I might lose no occasion of benefiting thePublick, 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 whatuse of them they think fit. 

But that I ought not any wayes to consent that they should be publishedduring my life; That neither the opposition and controversies, wheretoperhaps they might be obnoxious, nor even the reputation whatsoever itwere, which they might acquire me, might give me any occasion ofmispending the time I had design'd to employ for my instruction; foralthough it be true that every Man is oblig'd to procure, as much as inhim lies, the good of others; and that to be profitable to no body, isproperly to be good for nothing: Yet it's as true, that our care oughtto reach beyond the present time; and that it were good to omit thosethings which might perhaps conduce to the benefit of those who arealive, when our designe is, to doe others which shall prove farr moreadvantagious to our posterity; As indeed I desire it may be known thatthe little I have learnt hitherto, is almost nothing in comparison ofwhat I am ignorant of; and I doe not despair to be able to learn: Forit's even the same with those, who by little and little discover thetruth in Learning; as with those who beginning to grow rich, are lesstroubled to make great purchases, then they were before when they werepoorer, to make little ones. Or else one may compare them to Generals ofArmies, whose Forces usually encrease porportionably to their Victories;and who have need of more conduct to maintain themselves after the lossof a battail, then after the gaining one, to take Towns and Provinces. For to endeavour to overcome all the difficulties and errours whichhinder us to come to the knowledg of the Truth, is truly to fightbattails. And to receive any false opinion touching a generall orweighty matter, is as much as to lose one; there is far more dexterityrequired to recover our former condition, then to make great progresseswhere our Principles are already certain. For my part, if I formerlyhave discovered some Truths in Learning, as I hope my Discourse willmake it appear I have, I may say, they are but the products anddependances of five or six principall difficulties which I haveovercome, 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 meto win two or three more such, wholly to perfect my design. And that Iam not so old, but according to the ordinary course of Nature, I mayhave time enough to effect it. But I beleeve I am so much the moreobliged to husband the rest of my time, as I have more hopes to employit well; without doubt, I should have divers occasions of impeding it, should I publish the grounds of my Physicks. For although they arealmost all so evident, that to beleeve them, it's needfull onely tounderstand them; and that there is none whereof I think my self unableto give demonstration. Yet because it's impossible that they shouldagree with all the severall opinions of other men, I foresee I shouldoften be diverted by the opposition they would occasion. 

It may be objected, These oppositions might be profitable, as well tomake me know my faults, as if any thing of mine were good to make othersby that means come to a better understanding thereof; and as many maysee more then one man, beginning from this time to make use of mygrounds, they might also help me with their invention. But although Iknow my self extremely subject to fail, and do never almost trust myfirst thoughts; yet the experience I have of the objections which may bemade unto me, hinder me from hoping for any profit from them; For I haveoften 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, whosemalignity and envie did sufficiently discover what the affection of myfriends might hide. But it seldom happened that any thing was objectedagainst me, which I had not altogether foreseen, unless it were veryremote from my Subject: So that I never almost met with any Censurer ofmy opinions, that seemed unto me either less rigorous, or less equitablethen my self. Neither did I ever observe, that by the disputationspracticed in the Schools any Truth which was formerly unknown, was everdiscovered. For whilest every one seeks to overcome, men strive more tomaintain probabilities, then to weigh the reasons on both sides; andthose who for a long time have been good Advocates, are not thereforethe better Judges afterwards. 

As for the benefit which others may receive from the communication of mythoughts, it cannot also be very great, forasmuch as I have not yetperfected 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 saywithout 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 inthe world incomparably better then mine; but because men cannot so wellconceive 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 veryunderstanding men, and who, whilest I spake to them, seem'd verydistinctly 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 nolonger own them for mine. Upon which occasion, I shall gladly heredesire those who come after me, never to beleeve those things which maybe 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 toall those ancient Philosophers, whose Writings we have not; neither do Ithereby judge, that their thoughts were very irrationall, seeing theywere the best Wits of their time; but onely that they have been illconvey'd to us: as it appears also, that never any of their followerssurpass'd them. And I assure my self, that the most passionate of those, who now follow _Aristotle_, would beleeve himself happy, had he but asmuch knowledge of Nature as he had, although it were on condition thathe never might have more: They are like the ivie, which seeks to climbno higher then the trees which support it, and ever after tendsdownwards again when it hath attain'd to the height thereof: for, methinks also, that such men sink downwards; that is to say, renderthemselves in some manner lesse knowing, then if they did abstain fromstudying; who being not content to know all which is intelligibly setdown in their Authour, will besides that, finde out the solution ofdivers difficulties of which he says nothing, and perhaps never thoughtof them: yet their way of Philosophy is very fit for those who have butmean capacities: For the obscurity of the distinctions and principleswhich they use causeth them to speak of all things as boldly, as if theyknew them, and maintain all which they say, against the most subtill andmost able; so that there is no means left to convince them. Wherein theyseem like to a blinde man, who, to fight without disadvantage againstone that sees, should challenge him down into the bottom of a very darkcellar: And I may say, that it is these mens interest, that I shouldabstain from publishing the principles of the Philosophy I use, forbeing most simple and most evident, as they are, I should even do thesame in publishing of them, as if I opened some windows, to let the dayinto this cellar, into which they go down to fight. But even the bestWits have no reason to wish for the knowledge of them: for if they willbe able to speak of all things, and acquire the reputation of beinglearned, they will easily attain to it by contenting themselves withprobability, which without much trouble may be found in all kinde ofmatters; then in seeking the Truth, which discovers it self but bylittle and little, in some few things; and which, when we are to speakof others, oblige us freely to confesse our ignorance of them. But ifthey prefer the knowledge of some few truths to the vanity of seeming tobe ignorant of nothing, as without doubt they ought to do, and willundertake a designe like mine, I need not tell them any more for thispurpose, but what I have already said in this Discourse: For if theyhave a capacity to advance farther then I have done, they may withgreater consequence finde out of themselves whatsoever I think I havefound; Forasmuch as having never examined any thing but by order, it'scertain, that what remains yet for me to discover, is in it self moredifficult 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 byseeking first of all the easie things, and passing by degrees to othersmore 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 allthe Truths whose demonstrations I have discovered since, and had takenno pains to learn them, perhaps I should never have known any other, orat least, I should never have acquired that habit, and that facultywhich I think I have, still to finde out new ones, as I apply my self tothe search of them. And in a word, if there be in the world any workwhich 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 theexperiments which may conduce thereunto: But withall, he cannotprofitably imploy other hands then his own, unlesse it be those ofArtists, or others whom he hires, and whom the hope of profit (which isa very powerfull motive) might cause exactly to do all those things heshould appoint them: For as for voluntary persons, who by curiosity or adesire to learn, would perhaps offer themselves to his help, besidesthat commonly they promise more then they perform, and make onely fairpropositions, whereof none ever succeeds, they would infallibly be paidby the solution of some difficulties, or at least by complements andunprofitable entertainments, which could not cost him so little of histime, but he would be a loser thereby. And for the Experiments whichothers have already made, although they would even communicate them tohim (which those who call them Secrets would never do, ) they are forthe most part composed of so many circumstances, or superfluousingredients, that it would be very hard for him to decypher the truth ofthem: 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 appearconformable to their principles; that if there were any which servedtheir turn, they could not at least be worth the while which must beimployed in the choice of them. So that, if there were any in the worldthat were certainly known to be capable of finding out the greatestthings, and the most profitable for the Publick which could be, and thatother men would therefore labour alwayes to assist him to accomplish hisDesignes; I do not conceive that they could do more for him, thenfurnish the expence of the experiments whereof he stood in need; andbesides, take care only that he may not be by any body hindred of histime. But besides that, I do not presume so much of my Self, as topromise any thing extraordinary, neither do I feed my self with suchvain hopes, as to imagine that the Publick should much interesse it selfin my designes; I have not so base a minde, as to accept of any favourwhatsoever, which might be thought I had not deserved. 

All these considerations joyned together, were the cause three yearssince why I would not divulge the Treatise I had in hand; and which ismore, that I resolved to publish none whilest I lived, which might be sogeneral, as that the Grounds of my Philosophy might be understoodthereby. But since, there hath been two other reasons have obliged me toput forth some particular Essays, and to give the Publick some accountof my Actions and Designes. The first was, that if I failed therein, divers who knew the intention I formerly had to print some of myWritings, might imagine that the causes for which I forbore it, mightbe more to my disadvantage then they are. For although I do not affectglory in excess; or even, (if I may so speak) that I hate it, as far asI judge it contrary to my rest, which I esteem above all things: Yetalso did I never seek to hide my actions as crimes, neither have I beenvery wary to keep my self unknown; as well because I thought I mightwrong my self, as that it might in some manner disquiet me, which wouldagain have been contrary to the perfect repose of my minde which I seek. And because having alwayes kept my self indifferent, caring not whetherI 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 beingill. The other reason which obliged me to write this, is, that observingevery day more and more the designe I have to instruct my self, retardedby reason of an infinite number of 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 wantingto my self, as to give any cause to those who shall survive me, toreproach this, one day to me, That I could have left them divers thingsfar beyond what I have done, had I not too much neglected to make themunderstand wherein they might contribute to my designe. 

And I thought it easie for me to choose some matters, which being notsubject to many Controversies, nor obliging me to declare any more of myPrinciples then I would willingly, would neverthelesse expresse clearlyenough, what my abilities or defects are in the Sciences. Wherein Icannot say whether I have succeeded or no; neither will I prevent thejudgment of any man by speaking of my own Writings: but I should beglad they might be examin'd; and to that end I beseech all those whohave any objections to make, to take the pains to send them to myStationer, that I being advertised by him, may endeavour at the sametime to adjoyn my Answer thereunto: and by that means, the Reader seeingboth the one and the other, may the more easily judge of the Truth. ForI promise, that I will never make any long Answers, but only very freelyconfesse 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 notendlesly engage my self out of one into another. 

Now if there be any whereof I have spoken in the beginning, of theOpticks and of the Meteors, which at first jarr, by reason that I callthem Suppositions, and that I seem not willing to prove them; let a manhave but the patience to read the whole attentively, and I hope he willrest satisfied: For (me thinks) the reasons follow each other soclosely, that as the later are demonstrated by the former, which aretheir Causes; the former are reciprocally proved by the later, which aretheir Effects. And no man can imagine that I herein commit the faultwhich the Logicians call a _Circle_; for experience rendring thegreatest part of these effects most certain, the causes whence I deducethem serve not so much to prove, as to explain them; but on thecontrary, they are those which are proved by them. Neither named I themSuppositions, that it might be known that I conceive my self able todeduce them from those first Truths which I have before discovered: Butthat I would not expresly do it to crosse certain spirits, who imaginethat they know in a day al what another may have thought in twentyyeers, as soon as he hath told them but two or three words; and who areso much the more subject to erre, and less capable of the Truth, (asthey are more quick and penetrating) from taking occasion of erectingsome extravagant Philosophy on what they may beleeve to be myPrinciples, and lest the fault should be attributed to me. For as forthose opinions which are wholly mine, I excuse them not as being new, because that if the reasons of them be seriously considered, I assure myself, they will be found so plain, and so agreeable to common sense, that they will seem less extraordinary and strange then any other whichmay be held on the same Subjects. Neither do I boast that I am the firstInventor of any of them; but of this indeed, that I never admitted anyof them, neither because they had, or had not been said by others, butonly because Reason perswaded me to them. 

If Mechanicks cannot so soon put in practise the Invention which is setforth in the Opticks, I beleeve that therefore men ought not to condemnit; forasmuch as skill and practice are necessary for the making andcompleating the Machines I have described; so that no circumstanceshould be wanting. I should no less wonder if they should succeed atfirst triall, then if a man should learn in a day to play excellentlywell on a Lute, by having an exact piece set before him. And if I writein 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 meernaturall reason, wil better judge of my opinions, then those who onlybeleeve in old Books. And for those who joyn a right understanding withstudy, (who I only wish for my Judges) I assure my self, they will notbe so partiall to the Latin, as to refuse to read my reasons because Iexpresse them in a vulgar tongue. 

To conclude, I will not speak here in particular of the progresse Ihoped to make hereafter in Learning; Nor engage my self by any promiseto the Publick, which I am not certain to perform. But I shall onelysay, That I am resolved to employ the remainder of my life in no otherthing but the study to acquire some such knowledge of Nature as mayfurnish us with more certain rules in Physick then we hitherto have had:And that my inclination drives me so strongly from all other kind ofdesignes, chiefly from those which cannot be profitable to any, but byprejudicing others; that if any occasion obliged me to spend my timetherein, I should beleeve I should never succeed therein: which I heredeclare, though I well know it conduceth not to make me considerable inthe world; neither is it my ambition to be so. And I shall esteem myself always more obliged to those by whose favour I shal withoutdisturbance enjoy my ease, then to them who should proffer me the mosthonourable imployment of the earth. 

FINIS. 

 +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Notes and Errata | | | | One instance each of "what-ever" and "whatever" were found | | in the orignal. | | | | The following typographical errors were corrected: | | | | |Error |Correction | | | | | | | | |or |our | | | |Phpsick |Physick | | | |moreworthy |more worthy | | | |examinanation |examination | | | |mnner |manner | | | |propable |probable | | | |rape |grape | | | |veuture |venture | | | |circumstrance |circumstance | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+