But if it be said, though eternity be not the measure of one change, it may be of infinite changes, endlessly succeeding one another; even this also will be found contradictious and impossible. For, (not to trouble the reader with the more intricate controversy of the possibility or impossibility of infinite or eternal succession, about which they who have a mind may consult others,) if this signify any thing to the present purpose, it must mean the infinite or eternal changes of a necessary being. And how these very terms do clash with one another, methinks any sound mind might apprehend at the first mention of them; and how manifestly repugnant the things are, may be collected from what hath been said; and especially from what was thought more fit to be annexed in the margin. taken to be of itself altogether unactive, must be stated the only cause and fountain of all the action and motion that is now to be found in the whole universe: which is a conceit, wild and absurd enough; not only as it opposes the common judgment of such as have with the greatest diligence inquired into things of this nature, but as being in itself manifestly impossible to be true; as would easily appear, if it were needful to press further Dr. More's reasonings to this purpose; which he hath done sufficiently for himself. And also that otherwise all the great and undeniable changes which continually happen in it must proceed from its own constant and eternal action upon itself, while it is yet feigned to be a necessary being; with the notion But now since we find that the present state of things is whereof they are notoriously inconsistent. Which there changeable, and actually changing, and that what is change-fore we taking to be most clear, may now the more seable is not necessarily, and of itself; and since it is evident curely proceed to what follow. that there is some necessary being; (otherwise nothing could ever have been, and that without action nothing could be from it ;) since also all change imports somewhat of passion, and all passion supposes action, and all action active power, and active power an original seat or subject, that is self-active, or that hath the power of action in and of itself; (for there could be no derivation of it from that which hath it not, and no first derivation, but from that which hath it originally of itself; and a first derivation there must be, since all things that are, or ever have been, furnished with it, and not of themselves, must either mediately or immediately have derived it from that which had it of itself;) it is therefore manifest that there is a necessary, self-active Being, the Cause and Author of this perpetually variable state and frame of things. And hence, XV. 6. Since we can frame no notion of life which self-active power doth not, at least, comprehend, (as upon trial we shall find that we cannot,) it is consequent, that this Being is also originally vital, and the root of all vitality, such as hath life in or of itself, and from whence it is propagated to every other living thing." And so as we plainly see that this sensible world did sometime begin to be, it is also evident that it took its beginning from a Being essentially vital and active, that had itself no beginning. Nor can we make a difficulty to conclude, that this Being (which now we have shown is active, and all action implies some power) is, XVI. 7. Of vast and mighty power, (we will not say infinite, lest we should step too far at once; not ing now to discuss whether creation require infinite power,) when we consider and contemplate the vastness of the work performed by it. Unto which (if we were to make our estimate by nothing else) we must, at least, judge this power to be proportionable. For when our eyes behold an effect exceeding the power of any cause which they can behold, our mind must step in and supply the defect of our feebler sense; so as to make a judgment that there is a cause we see not, equal to this effect. As when we behold a great and magnificent fabric, and entering in we see not the master, or any living thing, (which was Cicero's observation in reference to this present purpose,) besides mice and weasels, we will not think that mice or weasels built it. Nor need we in a matter so obvious, insist further. But only when our severer reason hath made us confess, our further contemplation should make us admire, a power which is at once both so apparent and so stupendous. CHAPTER III. Wisdom asserted to belong to this Being. The production of this world by a I. We therefore add, that this Being is wise and intelligent, as well as powerful; upon the very view of this world, it will appear so vast power was guided by equal wisdom in the framing of it. Though this is wont to be the principal labour in evincing the existence of a Deity, namely, the proving that this universe owes its rise to a mind-wise and designing cause; (as may be seen in Cicero's excellent performance in this kind, and in divers later Writers ;) yet the placing so much of their endeavour herein, seems in great part to have proceeded hence, that it had a cause diverse from itself. But if that once be this hath been chosen for the great medium to prove that done a shorter way, and it fully appear that this world is not itself a necessary being, having the power of all the action and motion to be found in it, of itself; (which already seems plain enough;) and it do most evidently thence also appear to have had a cause foreign to, or distinct from, itself; though we shall not thereof doubt seems to remain, but that this was an intelligent fore the more carelessly consider this subject; yet no place cause, and that this world was the product of wisdom and counsel, and not of mere power alone. For what imagination can be more grossly absurd, than to suppose this orderly frame of things to have been the result of so mighty power, not accompanied or guided by wisdom and counsel? that is, (as the case must now unavoidably be understood,) that there is some being necessarily existent, of an essentially active nature, of inconceivably vast and mighty, power and vigour, destitute of all understanding and knowledge, and consequently of any selfmoderating principle, but acting always by the necessity of its own nature, and therefore to its very uttermost, that raised up all the alterable matter of the universe (to COROLLARY. And now, from what hath been hitherto discoursed, it seems a plain and necessary consectary, that this world had a cause diverse from the matter whereof it is composed. For otherwise matter that hath been more generally whose nature it is plainly repugnant to be of itself, or exist t Parker Tentam. Physico-Theol. Derodon. Philos. cont. Dr. More's Enchirid. Metaphys. u Which will also prove it to be a Spirit; unto which order of beings essential vitality, or that life be essential to them, seems as distinguishing a property between it and a body, as any other we can fasten upon; that is, that though a body may be truly said to live, yet it lives by a life that is accidental, and separable from it, so as that it may cease to live, and yet be a body still; whereas a spirit lives by its own essence; so that it can no more cease to live than to be. And as where that essence is borrowed and derived only, as it is necessarily) out of nothing; and by the utmost exertion of that ungoverned power, put all the parts and particles of that matter into a wild hurry of impetuous motion, by which they have been compacted and digested into particular beings, in that variety and order which we now behold. And surely to give this account of the world's original, is, as Cicero speaks, not to consider, but to cast lots what to say; and were as mad a supposition, "as if one should suppose the one-and-twenty letters, formed (as the same author elsewhere speaks) in great numbers, of gold, or what you please else, and cast of any careless fashion together, and that of these loosely shaken out upon the ground, Ennius's Annals should result, so as to be distinctly legible as now we see them." Nay, it were the supposition of a thing a thousand-fold more manifestly impossible. And that such an increase could not, upon the supposition we are now opposing, but have been, is most evident. For, not to insist that nothing of impressed motion is ever lost, but only imparted to other things, (which they that suppose it, do not therefore suppose, as if they thought, being once impressed, it could continue of itself, but that there is a constant, equal supply from the first mover,) we will admit that there is a continual decrease, or loss, but never to the degree of its continual increase. For we see when we throw a stone out of our hand, whatever of the impressed force it do impart to the air, through which it makes its way, or not being received, vanishes of itself, it yet retains a part a considerable time, that carries it all the length of its journey, and all does not vanish and die away on the sudden. Therefore, when we here consider the continual, momently renewal of the same force, always necessarily going forth from the same mighty Agent, without any moderation or restraint; every following impetus doth so immediately overtake the former, that whatever we can suppose lost, is yet so abundantly over-supplied, that, upon the whole, it cannot fail to be ever growing, and to have grown to that all-destroying excess before mentioned. Whence, therefore, that famed restorer and improver of some principles of the ancient philosophy, hath seen a necessity to acknowledge it, as a manifest thing, Hereof make an estimate, by considering what is requi-"That God himself is the universal and primary cause of site to the continual whirling about of such huge bulks as all the motions that are in the world, who in the beginning this whole massy globe of earth; (according to some;) or, created matter, together with motion and rest; and doth which is much more strange, the sun, (according to others,) now, by his ordinary concourse only, continue so much of with that inconceivably swift motion which this supposi- motion and rest in it, as he first put into it.-For (saith he) tion makes necessary, together with the other planets, and we understand it as a perfection in God, not only that he the innumerable heavenly bodies besides, that are subject is unchangeable in himself, but that he works after a most to the laws of a continual motion. Adding hereto how constant and unchangeable manner. So that, excepting mighty a power it is which must be sufficient to all the those changes which either evident experience or divine productions, motions, and actions, of all other things. revelation renders certain, and which we know or believe to be without change in the Creator, we ought to suppose none in his works, lest thereby any inconstancy should be argued in himself."a Whereupon he grounds the laws and rules concerning motion, which he afterwards lays down, whereof we referred to one, a little above. II. For before we consider the gross absurdity of such a supposed production, that is, that a thing should be brought to pass by so mere a casualty, that so evidently requires an exquisitely-formed and continued design, even though there were nothing positively to resist or hinder it, let it be considered what there will be that cannot but most certainly hinder any such production. To this purpose we are to consider, that it is a vast power which so generally moves the diffused matter of the universe. Again, consider that all this motion, and motive power, must have some source and fountain diverse from the dull and sluggish matter moved thereby, unto which it already hath appeared impossible it should originally and essentially belong. Next, that the mighty, active Being, which hath been proved necessarily existent, and whereto it must first belong, if we suppose it destitute of the self-moderating principle of wisdom and counsel, cannot but be always exerting its motive power, invariably and to the same degree: that is, to its very utmost, and can never cease or fail to do so. For its act knows no limit but that of its power; (if this can have any;) and its power is essential to it, and its essence is necessary. Further, that the motion impressed upon the matter of the universe must hereupon necessarily have received a continual increase, ever since it came into being. That supposing this motive power to have been exerted from eternity, it must have been increased long ago to an infinite excess. That hence the coalition of the particles of matter for the forming of any thing had been altogether impossible. For let us suppose this exerted, motive power to have been, any instant, but barely sufficient for such a formation, because that could not be despatched in an instant, it would by its continual, momently increase, be grown so over-sufficient, as, in the next instant, to dissipate the particles, but now beginning to unite. At least, it would be most apparent, that if ever such a frame of things as we now behold could have been produced, that motive power, increased to so infinite an excess, must have shattered the whole frame in pieces, many an age ago; or rather, never have permitted that such a thing, as we call an age, could possibly have been. Our experience gives us not to observe any so destructive or remarkable changes in the course of nature and this (as was long ago foretold) is the great argument of the atheistical scoffers in these latter days, that things are as they were from the beginning of the creation to this day. But let it be soberly weighed, how it is possible the general consistency, which we observe things are at throughout the universe, and their steady, orderly posture, can stand with this momently increase of motion. a D. Cartes Princip. Philosoph. part 2. It is therefore evident, that as without the supposition of a self-active Being there could be no such thing as motion; so without the supposition of an intelligent Being, (that is, that the same Being be both self-active and intelligent,) there could be no regular motion; such as is absolutely necessary to the forming and continuing of any the compacted, bodily substances, which our eyes behold every day: yea, or of any whatsoever, suppose we their figures, or shapes, to be as rude, deformed, and useless, as we can imagine; much less, such as the exquisite compositions, and the exact order of things, in the universe, do evidently require and discover. III. And if there were no such thing carried in this supposition, as is positively adverse to what is supposed, so as most certainly to hinder it, (as we see plainly there is,) yet the mere want of what is necessary to such a production, is enough to render it impossible, and the supposition of it absurd. For it is not only absurd to suppose a production which somewhat shall certainly resist and hinder, but which wants a cause to effect it; and it is not less absurd, to suppose it affected by a manifestly insufficient and unproportionable cause, than by none at all. For as nothing can be produced without a cause, so no cause can work above or beyond its own capacity and natural aptitude. Whatsoever therefore is ascribed to any cause, above and beyond its ability, all that surplusage is ascribed to no cause at all: and so an effect, in that part at least, were supposed without a cause. And if then it follow when an effect is produced, that it had a cause; why doth it not equally follow, when an effect is produced, having manifest characters of wisdom and design upon it, that it had a wise and designing cause? If it be said, there be some fortuitous or casual (at least undesigned) productions, that look like the effects of wisdom and contrivance, but indeed are not, as the birds so orderly and seasonably making their nests, the bees their comb, and the spider its web, which are capable of no design: that exception needs to be well proved before it be admitted; and that it be plainly demonstrated, both that these creatures are not capable of design, and that there is not a universal, designing cause, from whose directive as well as operative influence, no imaginable effect or event can be exempted; (in which case it will no more be necessary, that every creature that is observed steadily to work towards an end, should itself design and know it, than that an artificer's tools should know what he is doing with them; but if they do not, it is plain he must;) and surely it lies upon them who so except, to prove in this case what they say, and not be so precarious as to beg or think us so easy, as to grant so much, only because they have thought fit to say it, or would fain have it so. That is, that this or that strange event happened without any designing cause. he is asked, Is this the effect of skill? shall so suddenly and irresistibly captivate him into an assent that it is, that he cannot think otherwise. Nay, if a thousand men were asked the same question, they would as undoubtedly say the same thing; and then, since there is a reason for this judgment, what can be devised to be the reason, but that there are so manifest characters and evidences of skill in the composure, as are not attributable to any thing else? Now here I would further demand, Is there any thing in this reason, yea, or no? Doth it signify any thing, or is it of any value to the purpose for which it is alleged ? Surely it is of very great, inasmuch as, when it is considered, it leaves it not in a man's power to think any thing else; and what can be said more potently and efficaciously to demonstrate? But now, if this reason signify any thing, it signifies thus much; that wheresoever there are equal characters, and evidences of skill, (at least where there are equal,) a skilful agent must be acknowledged. And so it will (in spite of cavil) conclude unitinctly signified by the terms of art, and nature, that whatsoever effect hath such or equal characters of skill upon it, did proceed from a skilful cause. That is, that if this effect be said to be from a skilful cause, as such, (viz. as having manifest characters of skill upon it,) then, every such effect, (viz. that hath equally manifest characters of skill upon it,) must be, with equal reason, concluded to be from a skilful cause. We will acknowledge skill to act, and wit to contrive, very distinguishable things, and in reference to some works, (as the making some curious automaton, or self-moving engine,) are commonly lodged in divers subjects; that is, the contrivance exercises the wit and invention of one, and the making, the manual dexterity and skill of others: but the manifest characters of both will be seen in the effect. That is, the curious elaborateness of each several part shows the latter; and the order and dependence of parts, and their conspiracy to one common end, the former. Each betokens design; or at least the smith or carpenter must be understood to design his own part, that is, to do as he was directed: both together, do plainly bespeak an agent, that knew what he did; and that the thing was not done by chance, or was not the casual product of only being busy at random, or making a careless stir, without aiming at any thing. And this, no man that is in his wits, would, upon sight of the whole frame, more doubt to assent unto, than that two and two make four. And he would certainly be thought mad, that should profess to think that only by some one's making a blustering stir among several small fragments of brass, iron, and wood, these parts happened to be thus curiously formed, and came together into this frame, of their own accord. IV. But, however, I would demand of such as make this exception, whether they think there be any effect at all, to which a designing cause was necessary, or which they will judge impossible to have been otherwise produced, than by the direction and contrivance of wisdom and counsel? I little doubt but there are thousands of things, laboured and wrought by the hand of man, concerning which they would presently, upon first sight, pro-versally, and abstractedly from what we can suppose disnounce they were the effects of skill, and not of chance; yea, if they only considered their frame and shape, though they yet understood not their use and end. They would surely think (at least) some effects or other sufficient to argue to us a designing cause. And would they but soberly consider and resolve what characters or footsteps of wisdom and design might be reckoned sufficient to put us out of doubt, would they not, upon comparing, be brought to acknowledge there are no where any more conspicuous and manifest, than in the things daily in view, that go ordinarily, with us, under the name of the works of nature? Whence it is plainly consequent, that what men commonly call universal nature, if they would be content no longer to lurk in the darkness of an obscure and uninterpreted word, they must confess is nothing else but common providence, that is, the universal power which is every where active in the world, in conjunction with the unerring wisdom which guides and moderates all its exertions and operations; or the wisdom which directs and governs that power. Otherwise, when they see cause to acknowledge that such an exact order and disposition of parts, in very neat and elegant compositions, doth plainly argue wisdom and skill in the contrivance; only they will distinguish, and say, It is so in the effects of art, but not of nature. What is this, but to deny in particular what they granted in general? to make what they have said signify nothing more than if they had said, Such exquisite order of parts is the effect of wisdom, where it is the effect of wisdom, but it is not the effect of wisdom, where it is not the effect of wisdom? and to trifle, instead of giving a reason why things are so and so? And whence take they their advantage for this trifling, or do hope to hide their folly in it, but that they think, while what is Or lest this should be thought to intimate too rude a meant by art is known, what is meant by nature cannot representation of their conceit, who think this world to have be known? But if it be not known, how can they tell but fallen into this frame and order, wherein it is, by the agitheir distinguishing members are co-incident, and run into tation of the moving parts, or particles of matter, without one? Yea, and if they would allow the thing itself to the direction of a wise mover; and that we may also speak, and the effect to confess and dictate the name of make the case as plain as is possible to the most ordinary its own cause, how plain is it that they do run into one, capacity, we will suppose (for instance) that one who had and that the expression imports no impropriety which we never before seen a watch, or any thing of that sort, hath somewhere find in Cicero; The art of nature; or rather, now this little engine first offered to his view; can we that nature is nothing else but divine art, at least in as doubt, but he would upon the mere sight of its figure, near an analogy as there can be, between any things di-structure, and the very curious workmanship which we vine and human. For, that this matter (even the thing itself, waving for the present the consideration of names) may be a little more narrowly discussed and searched into, let some curious piece of workmanship be offered to such a sceptic's view, the making whereof he did not see, nor of any thing like it; and we will suppose him not told that this was made by the hand of any man, nor that he hath any thing to guide his judgment about the way of its becoming what it is, but only his own view of the thing itself; and yet he shall presently, without hesitation, pronounce, This was the effect of much skill. I would here inquire, Why do you so pronounce? Or, What is the reason of this your judgment? Surely he would not say he hath no reason at all for this so confident and unwavering determination; for then he would not be determined, but speak by chance, and be indifferent to say that, or any thing else. Somewhat or other there must be, that, when will suppose appearing in it, presently acknowledge the artificer's hand? But if he were also made to understand the use and purpose for which it serves, and it were distinctly shown him how each thing contributes, and all things in this little fabric concur to this purpose, the exact measuring and dividing of time by minutes, hours, and months, he would certainly both confess and praise the great ingenuity of the first inventor. But now if a by-stander, beholding him in this admiration, would undertake to show a profounder reach and strain of wit, and should say, Sır, you are mistaken concerning the composition of this so much admired piece; it was not made or designed by the hand or skill of any one; there were only an innumerable company of little atoms or very small bodies, much too small to be perceived by your sense, that were busily frisking and plying to and fro about the place of its nativity; and by a strange chance (or a stranger fate, and the necessary laws of that motion which they were unavoidably put into, by a certain boisterous, undesigning mover) they fell together into this small bulk, so as to compose it into this very shape and figure, and with this same number and order of parts which you now behold: one squadron of these busy particles (little thinking what they were about) agreeing to make up one wheel, and another some other, in that proportion which you see: others of them also falling, and becoming fixed in so happy a posture and situation, as to describe the several figures by which the little moving fingers point out the hour of the day, and day of the month: and all conspired to fall together, each into its own place, in so lucky a juncture, as that the regular motion failed not to ensue which we see is now observed in it,-what man is either so wise or so foolish (for it is hard to determine whether the excess or defect should best qualify him to be of this faith) as to be capable of being made believe this piece of natural history? And if one should give this account of the production of such a trifle, would he not be thought in jest? But if he persist, and solemnly profess that thus he takes it to have been, would he not be thought in good earnest mad? And let but any sober person judge whether we have not unspeakably more manifest madness to contend against in such as suppose this world, and the bodies of living creatures, to have fallen into this frame and orderly disposition of parts wherein they are, without the direction of a wise and designing cause? And whether there be not an incomparably greater number of most wild and arbitrary suppositions in their fiction than in this? Besides the innumerable supposed repetitions of the same strange chances all the world over; even as numberless, not only as productions, but as the changes that continually happen to all the things produced. And if the concourse of atoms could make this world, why not (for it is but little to mention such a thing as this) a porch, or a temple, or a house, or a city, (as Tully speaks in the before-recited place,) which were less operose and much more easy performances? V. It is not to be supposed that all should be astronomers, anatomists, or natural philosophers, that shall read these lines; and therefore it is intended not to insist upon particulars, and to make as little use as is possible of terms that would only be agreeable to that supposition. But surely such general, easy reflections on the frame of the universe, and the order of parts in the bodies of all sorts of living creatures, as the meanest ordinary understanding is capable of, would soon discover incomparably greater evidence of wisdom and design in the contrivance of these, than in that of a watch or a clock. And if there were any whose understandings are but of that size and measure as to suppose that the whole frame of the heavens serves to no other purpose than to be of some such use as that, to us mortals here on earth; if they would but allow themselves leisure to think and consider, might discern the most convincing and amazing discoveries of wise contrivance and design (as well as of vastest might and power) in disposing things into so apt a subserviency to that meaner end. And that so exact a knowledge is had thereby of times and seasons, days and years, as that the simplest idiot in a country may be able to tell you, when the light of the sun is withdrawn from his eyes, at what time it will return, and when it will look in at such a window, and when at the other; and by what degrees his days and nights shall either increase or be diminished; and what proportion of time he shall have for his labours in this season of the year, and what in that; without the least suspicion or fear that it shall ever fall out otherwise. But that some in later days whose more enlarged minds have by diligent search and artificial helps, got clearer notices (even than most of the more learned of former times) concerning the true frame and vastness of the universe, the matter, nature, and condition of the heavenly bodies, their situation, order, and laws of motion; and the great probability of their serving to nobler purposes, than the greater part of learned men have ever dreamed of before; that, I say, any of these should have chosen it for the employment of their great intellects, to devise ways of excluding intellectual power from the contrivance of this b Lib. 3. De usu part. ex Lacun. Epit. frame of things, having so great advantages beyond the most of mankind besides to contemplate and adore the great Author and Lord of all, is one of the greatest wonders that comes under our notice; and might tempt even a sober mind to prefer vulgar and popular ignorance, before their learned, philosophical deliration. VI. Though yet, indeed, not their philosophy by which they would be distinguished from the common sort, but what they have in common with them, ought in justice to bear the blame. For it is not evident, how much soever they reckon themselves exalted above the vulgar sort, that their miserable shifting in this matter proceeds only from what is most meanly so; i. e. their labouring under the most vulgar and meanest diseases of the mind, disregard of what is common, and an aptness to place more in the strangeness of new, unexpected, and surprising events, than in things unspeakably more considerable, that are of every day's observation? Than which nothing argues a more abject, unphilosophical temper. For let us but suppose (what no man can pretend is more impossible, and what any man must confess is less considerable, than what our eyes daily see) that in some part of the air near this earth, and within such limits as that the whole scene might be conveniently beheld at one view, there should suddenly appear a little globe of pure flaming light resembling that of the sun; and suppose it fixed as a centre to another body, or moving about that other as its centre, (as this or that hypothesis best pleases us,) which we could plainly perceive to be a proportionably-little earth, beautified with little trees and woods, flowery fields, and flowing rivulets with larger lakes into which these discharge themselves; and suppose we the other planets all of proportionable bigness to the narrow limits assigned them, placed at their due distances, and playing about this supposed earth or sun, so as to measure their shorter and soon absolved days, months, and years, or two, twelve, or thirty years, according to their supposed lesser circuits;-would they not presently, and with great amazement, confess an intelligent contriver and maker of this whole frame, above a Posidonius or any mortal? And have we not in the present frame of things a demonstration of wisdom and counsel, as far exceeding that which is now supposed, as the making some toy or bauble to please a child is less an argument of wisdom than the contrivance of somewhat that is of apparent and universal use? Or, if we could suppose this present state of things to have but newly begun, and ourselves pre-existent, so that we could take notice of the very passing of things out of horrid confusion into the comely order they are now in, would not this put the matter out of doubt? And that this state had once a beginning needs not be proved over again. But might what would yesterday have been the effect of wisdom, better have been brought about by chance five or six thousand years, or any longer time ago? It speaks not want of evidence in the thing, but want of consideration, and of exercising our understandings, if what were new would not only convince but astonish, and what is old, of the same importance, doth not so much as convince ? VII. And let them that understand any thing of the composition of a human body (or indeed of any living creature) but bethink themselves whether there be not equal contrivance at least, appearing in the composure of that admirable fabric, as of any the most admired machine or engine devised and made by human wit and skill. If we pitch upon any thing of known and common use, as suppose again a clock or watch, which is no sooner seen than it is acknowledged (as hath been said) the effect of a designing cause; will we not confess as much of the body of a man? Yea, what comparison is there, when in the structure of some one single member, as a hand, a foot, an eye, or ear, there appears upon a diligent search, unspeakably greater curiosity, whether we consider the variety of parts, their exquisite figuration, or their apt disposition to the distinct uses and ends these members serve for, than is to be seen in any clock or watch? Concerning which uses of the several parts in man's body, Galen, so largely discoursing in seventeen books, inserts on the by, this epiphonema, upon the mention of one particular instance of our most wise Maker's provident care; "Unto whom (saith he) I com- | the curious and apt texture of the eye, can think it was not pose these commentaries," (meaning his present work of unfolding the useful figuration of the human body,) as certain hymns, or songs of praise, esteeming true piety more to consist in this, that I first may know, and then declare to others, his wisdom, power, providence, and goodness, than in sacrificing to him many hecatombs: and in the ignorance whereof there is greatest impiety, rather than in abstaining from sacrifice. Nor" (as he adds in the close of that excellent work)" is the most perfect natural artifice to be seen in man only; but you may find the like industrious design and wisdom of the Author, in any living creature which you shall please to dissect: and by how much the less it is, so much the greater admiration shall it raise in you; which those artists show, that describe some great thing (contractedly) in a very small space: as that person (saith he) who lately engraved Phaeton carried in his chariot with his four horses upon a little ring-a most incredible sight! But there is nothing in matters of this nature, more strange than in the structure of the leg of a flea." How much more might it be said of all its inward parts! "Therefore (as he adds) the greatest commodity of such a work accrues not to physicians, but to them who are studious of nature, viz. the knowledge of our Maker's perfection, and that (as he had said a little above) it establishes the principle of the most perfect theology, which theology (saith he) is much more excellent than all medicine." made on purpose to see with, and the ear, upon the like view, for hearing, when so many things must concur that these actions might be performed by these organs, and are found to do so? Or who can think that the sundry little engines belonging to the eye were not made with design to move it upwards, downwards, to this side or that, or whirl it about as there should be occasion; without which instruments and their appendages, no such motion could have been? Who, that is not stupidly perverse, can think that the sundry inward parts (which it would require a volume distinctly to speak of, and but to mention them and their uses would too unproportionably swell this part of this discourse) were not made purposely by a designing Agent, for the ends they so aptly and constantly serve for? The want of some one among divers whereof, or but a little misplacing, or if things had been but a little otherwise than they are, had inferred an impossibility that such a creature as man could have subsisted, or been propagated upon the face of the earth. As what if there had not been such a receptacle prepared as the stomach is, and so formed, and placed as it is, to receive and digest necessary nutriment? Had not the whole frame of man besides been in vain ? Or what if the passage from it downward had not been somewhat a little way ascending, so as to detain a convenient time what is received, but that what was taken in were suddenly transmitted? It is evident the whole structure had been ruined as soon as made. What (to inIt were too great an undertaking, and beyond the de- stance in what seems so small a matter) if that little cover signed limits of this discourse, (though it would be to ex- had been wanting at the entrance of that passage through cellent purpose, if it could be done without amusing terms, which we breathe; (the depression whereof by the weight and in that easy, familiar way as to be capable of common of what we eat or drink, shuts it and prevents meat and use,) to pursue and trace distinctly the prints and footsteps drink from going down that way;) had not unavoidable of the admirable wisdom which appears in the structure suffocation ensued? And who can number the instances and frame of this outer temple. For even our bodies them- that might be given besides? Now when there is a concurselves are said to be the temples of the Holy Ghost, 1 Cor.rence of so many things absolutely necessary, (concerning vi. 19. And to dwell a while in the contemplation and which the common saying is as applicable, more frequently discovery of those numerous instances of most apparent, wont to be applied to matters of morality, "Goodness is ungainsayable sagacity and providence which offer them- from the concurrence of all causes; evil from any defect,") selves to view in every part and particle of this fabric; how each so aptly and opportunely serving its own proper use, most commodiously all things are ordered in it! With and all one common end, certainly to say that so manifold, how strangely cautious circumspection and foresight, not so regular, and stated a subserviency to that end, and the only destructive, but even (perpetually) vexatious and end itself, were undesigned, and things casually fell out afflicting, incongruities are avoided and provided against, thus, is to say we know or care not what. to pose ourselves upon the sundry obvious questions that might be put for the evincing of such provident foresight. As for instance, how comes it to pass that the several parts which we find to be double in our bodies, are not single only? Is this altogether by chance? That there are two eyes, ears, nostrils, hands, feet, &c. what a miserable, shiftless creature had man been, if there had only been allowed him one foot ? a seeing, hearing, talking, unmoving statue. That the hand is divided into fingers? those so conveniently situate, one in so fitly opposite a posture to the rest? the ears. And what if some one pair or other of these parts had been universally wanting? The hands, the feet, the eyes, How great a misery had it inferred upon mankind! and is it only a casualty that it is not so? That the back-bone is composed of so many joints, (twenty-four, besides those of that which is the basis and sustainer of the whole,) and is not all of a piece, by which stooping, or any motion of the head or neck, diverse from that of the whole body, had been altogether impossible; that there is such variety and curiosity in the ways of joining the bones together in that, and other parts of the body; that in some parts, they are joined by mere adherence of one to another,d either with or without an intervening medium, and both these ways, so diversely; that others are fastened together by proper jointing, so as to suit and be accompanied with motion, either more obscure or more manifest, and this, either by a deeper or more superficial insertion of one bone into another, or by a mutual insertion, and that so different ways; and that all these should be exactly accommodated to the several parts and uses to which they belong and serve-was all this without design? Who, that views c Sub. fin. l. 17. d Bartholin. Riolanus. e How foolish to think that art intended an end in making a window to see through, and that nature intended none in making an eye to see We will only, before we close this consideration, concerning the mere frame of a human body, (which hath been so hastily and superficially proposed,) offer a supposition which is no more strange (excluding the vulgar notion by which nothing is strange, but what is not common) than the thing itself, as it actually is; viz. That the whole more external covering of the body of a man were made, instead of skin and flesh, of some very transparent substance, flexible, but clear as very crystal; through which, and the other more inward (and as transparent) integuments or enfoldings, we could plainly perceive the situation and order of all the internal parts, and how they each of them perform their distinct offices: if we could discern the continual motion of the blood, how it is conveyed by its proper conduits, from its first source and fountain, partly downwards to the lower entrails, (if rather it ascend not from thence, as at least what afterwards becomes blood doth,) partly upwards, to its admirable elaboratory, the heart; where it is refined and furnished with fresh vital spirits, and so transmitted thence by the distinct vessels prepared for this purpose: could we perceive the curious contrivance of those little doors, by which it is let in and out, on this side and on that; the order and course of its circulation, its most commodious distribution by two social channels, or conduit-pipes, that every where accompany one another throughout the body: could we discern the curious artifice of the brain, its ways of purgation; and were it possible to pry into the secret chambers and recep tacles of the less or more pure spirits there; perceive their manifold conveyances, and the rare texture of that net, commonly called the wonderful one: could we behold the veins, arteries, and nerves, all of them arising from their with; as Campanella in that rapturous discourse of his Atheismus triumpha f Non prodest cibus neque corpori accedit, qui statim sumptus emittitur. Seneca (on another occasion.) tus. |