PRIMS Full-text transcription (HTML)

THE PASSIONS Of the SOULE In three Books.

The firſt, Treating of the Paſſions in Generall, and oc­caſionally of the whole nature of man.

The ſecond, Of the Number, and order of the Paſſions, and the explication of the ſix Primitive ones.

The third, Of Particular Paſſions.

By R. des Cartes.

And Tranſlated out of French into Engliſh.

LONDON, Printed for A. C. and are to be ſold by J. Martin, and J. Ridley, at the Caſtle in Fleet-ſtreet neer Ram-Alley, 1650.

An Advertiſement to the Reader by a friend of the Authour.

THis Book having been ſent to me by Monſieur des Cartes, with a Li­cence to get it printed, and annex what Preface to it I pleaſed: I be­thought my ſelfe, that it was not neceſſary to put any, unleſſe the Letters I have heretofore written to him, to get it from him, ſeeing they contain many things, fit to be pub­likely known.

The firſt Letter to Monſieur des Cartes.

SIR, I ſhould have been very glad to have ſeen you this laſt Summer at Paris, becauſe I thought you would have come thither on purpoſe to ſtay there, and that having more con­veniences there then any where elſe to try expe­riments, whereof you have intimated you ſtand in need to finiſh the Treatiſes you promiſed to the world, you would not fail to keep your word with me, and wee ſhould ſhortly ſee them prin­ted; but you have utterly defeated me of that joy, by your return to Holland: and I cannot here refrain from telling you, that I am angry with you, for not letting me (before you took your journey) ſee the Treatiſe of the Paſſions, which, I was told, you had compiled. Beſides, reflecting on ſome words I had read in a Pre­face ſome two years ſince uſhering the tranſla­tion of your Principles into French, wherein af­ter you had ſpoken ſuccinctly of the parts of Philoſophy yet to be diſcovered, before the chief fruit thereof can be gathered, and ſaid, that you do not ſo much miſtruſt your own ſtrength, but you dare undertake to make them all known if you had conveniences to try experiments to maintain, and juſtifie your arguments, you adde, greater expences are neceſſary for that purpoſe, than a private man, as you are, is able to diſ­burſe unleſs aſſiſted by the publique: but that ſince you could not expect this aſſiſtance, you thought to reſt contented from thence forwards with ſtudying for your own private inſtruction; and that poſterity ſhould excuſe you, if you left off labouring for them: now I am afraid in good earneſt that you will envy the world the reſt of your inventions, and wee never ſhall have any thing elſe of you, if we let you follow your own inclination. This is the reaſon why I bethought me to torment you a little with this Letter, and revenge my ſelf of your refuſall of that Treatiſe of the Paſſions to me, by ingenuouſ­ly reproving you for lazineſſe and other faults, which, I conceive, hinder you from improving your talent, as you may, and your duty binds you. Upon my word, I cannot think it any thing but your lazineſſe, and little care to be ſerviceable to mankind, which cauſeth you not to go forwards with your Phyſicks: for though I very well underſtand, it is impoſſible for you to finiſh them without many experiments, which ought to be defrayed by the publique, becauſe they will reap the profit of it, and a private mans eſtate is not ſufficient to do it; yet I do not be­lieve that is your Remora, for you cannot chooſe but obtain from the diſpencers of the publique treaſure, all you can wiſh to that purpoſe, if you would but vouchſafe to make known to them how the caſe ſtands, as you eaſily might do, had you a will to it; but you have ever lived in a way ſo repugnant thereunto, that there is reaſon to ſuſpect that you would not accept aſſiſtance from any one, though it were offered to you; and yet you pretend, poſterity ſhall excuſe you, if you take pains for it no more, on a ſuppoſition that this aſſiſtance is neceſſary, and you cannot get it; which gives me occaſion to think, not on­ly that you are too ſparing of your pains, but, it may be, that you have not courage enough to hope to goe through with what they who have read your writings expect of you; and yet you are ſo vainglorious as to perſwade our ſucceſſors, that you failed not of it by any fault of your own, but becauſe your vertue was not encouraged as it ought to have been, and you were denyed furtherance in your deſignes; wherein, I ſee, your ambition hits the mark it aimed at becauſe they who hereafter ſhall view your works, will conceive by what you publi­ſhed a dozen years agoe, that you then had found out all that ſince hath been ſeen to come from you, and what remains to be inveſtigated in Phyſicks, is leſſe difficult then what you have already made known: ſo that you might ſince have given us all that may be expected from humane reaſon concerning Phyſick, and other neceſſaries of life, if you had had conveniences to make experiments requiſite thereunto: nay, that you have found out a good part of them too, but a juſt indignation againſt the ingrati­tude of man hath diſſwaded you from letting them participate of your inventions; ſo you think that by lying ſtill for ever, you ſhall ac­quire as much reputation, as if you took pains for it; and, if may be, more, becauſe common­ly good poſſeſſed, is more valued then what is deſired, or lamented. But I'l debar you from getting reputation without deſerving it; and though I doubt not but you knew well enough what you ſhould have done, if you would have been helped by the publique: for indeed, I will cauſe this Letter to be printed, that you may not pretend ignorance of it; that if here­after you fail to ſatisfie us, you may no more impute it to this age; for know, it is not enough to obtaine any thing from the publike, to have blurted out an occaſionall word of it in the Preface of a book, not abſolutely ſaying that you deſire it, and expect it, nor giving them proofes not only that you deſerve it, but that they ought for their own ſakes to grant it you, in regard they expect great profit by it; It is uſu­ally ſeen, that they, who think they have any thing in them, make ſuch a noiſe of it, and ſo importunately demand what they pretend to, and promiſe ſo farre beyond what they can perform, that when a man only ſpeaks modeſt­ly of himſelf, and requires nought from any man, nor promiſes any thing certainly, what proofe ſoever hee gives otherwiſe of his ſuf­ficiencie, hee is neither lookt nor thought on.

You'l ſay, it may bee, that it goes againſt your nature to requeſt any thing, or ſpeak advantagiouſly of your ſelf; becauſe, one ſeems a mark of a mean ſpirit, the other of Pride. But, ſay I, this humour is to be corrected, for it proceeds from an errour of weakneſs, rather then a becomming ſhamefacedneſs and mode­ſty; for, for matter of requeſts, a man hath no reaſon to be aſhamed of any, unleſſe ſuch as hee makes meerly for his own peculiar be­nefit, to thoſe from whom in juſtice hee ought not to exact any. So far ſhould hee be, from being of thoſe that tend to the publique utilitie and profit of them to whom they are made, that on the contrary hee may extract glo­ry from them, eſpecially when hee hath already beſtowed things on them worth much more than hee would obtain of them; and for ſpeaking advantagiouſly of a mans ſelfe, it is true, it is a moſt ridiculous, and blame­able pride, when hee ſpeakes falſe things of himſelfe; and it is even a contemp­tible vanity too, when he ſpeaks only truths, meerly out of oſtentation, and ſo that no good accrew to any one thereby; but when theſe things ſo much concern other men to know, it is moſt certain they cannot be concealed, but out of a vicious humility, which is a ſort of baſeneſs, and weakneſs. Now, it highly con­cerns the publique to be advertiſed of what you have gathered in Sciences, that thereby judging what you are able to diſcover in them further, it may be incited to contribute its utmoſt to help you therein, as in a work whoſe end is the generall good of mankind, and the things you have already given, the important truths, you have laid down in your Books, are worth in­comparably much more than any thing you can ask for this purpoſe.

You may alſo ſay that your works ſpeak enough, and there is no need of adding promiſes and brags, which being the merchandize of jug­gling Mountebanks ſeem not becomming a man of honour, who only ſearcheth after truth: but Mountebanks are not blame-worthy for talking high and well of themſelves, but for ſpeaking untruths, and things they cannot make good; whereas thoſe which (I urge) you ſhould ſpeak of your ſelf, are ſo true, and ſo manifeſtly pro­ved in your writings, that the ſtricteſt rules of modeſty give you leave to aſcertain them, and thoſe of Charity oblige you thereunto, becauſe it concerns others to know it. For although your writings ſay enough to thoſe who exa­mine them throughly, and are able to under­ſtand them; yet that is not ſufficient for the deſigne I would adviſe you to, becauſe every one is not able to read them, and they who manage the publique affaires can ſcarce have any leiſure to doe it. It may be, ſome who have read them, tell them of it: but whatſoever a man ſay to them of it, the little coile, they know, you keep, and the too great modeſty you have ever obſerved in ſpeaking of your ſelf, make them not take any great notice thereof. And indeed becauſe it a uſuall thing a­mong them to beſtow the higheſt tearms imaginable on the commendation of very in­different men, they are not apt to receive the immenſe praiſes beſtowed on you by thoſe who know you, for exact truths; whereas when any man ſpeaks of himſelf extraordinari­ly, they hearken to him with more attention, eſpecially if hee be a man of good birth, and they know him to bee neither by na­ture, nor his rank, likely to act the Mounte­bank; and becauſe hee would become ridi­culous if he ſhould uſe hyperbolies on ſuch an occaſion, his words are taken in their true ſence: and they who will not believe them are incited at leaſt by their curioſity, or jea­louſie, to examine the truth of them; where­fore it being moſt certain, and the publique being much concerned in knowing that no man in the world but your ſelfe (at leaſt whoſe writings wee have) ever diſcovered the true principles, and underſtood the firſt cauſes of whatever is produced in nature; and that ha­ving already given an account by theſe Prin­ciples, of all thoſe things which are moſt viſi­ble, and frequently obſerved in the world, you need only ſome particular obſervations to find out, in like manner, the reaſons of whatſoe­ver may be uſefull to man in this life, and ſo give us a compleat knowledge of the nature of all mineralls, the vertues of all Plants, the properties of animals, and generally all that may be beneficiall to Phyſick, or other arts. And laſtly, that theſe particular obſervations not being poſſible to bee all made in a ſmall time without great expence, all people of the earth ought emulouſly to contribute thereunto, as to the moſt important thing in the world, wherein they have all an equall intereſt. This being, I ſay, moſt certain, to bee ſufficiently proved by your works already printed, you ſhould talk ſo lowd of it, publiſh it with ſo much care, and put it ſo punctually in all the Title-pages of your Books, that none hereaf­ter might pretend ignorance. So at leaſt, you would immediately beget a longing in many to examine what the matter is: ſo that the further they enquired into it, and the more diligently they read your Books, they would the more clearly underſtand, you not unjuſtly boaſted.

And I would wiſh you chiefly to clear three things to the world. Firſt, that there are a nu­merous company of things to be found out in Phyſicks, that may bee extreamly profitable for life: Secondly, that there is great reaſon to expect the finding them out from you: And thirdly, that the more conveniences you had to make experiments, the more of them you could find out; It is neceſſary to be informed of the firſt becauſe moſt men think there can nothing be found out in the Sciences, better then what hath been found by the Ancients; and ſome conceive not ſo much as what the meaning of Phyſicks is, or what they are good for. Now it is eaſie to prove that the too great reverence born to antiquity, is an errour extreamly prejudicial to the advancement of Sciences. For it is ſeen that the ſavage people of America, and many others who inhabite places leſſe remote, have many leſſe conveniences of life then wee, and yet their originall is as ancient as ours, ſo that they have as much reaſon as wee to ſay that they are ſa­tisfied with the wiſdome of their fathers, and that they believe no man can teach them better than what hath been known and practized a­mong them from all Antiquity. And this opi­nion is ſo prejudiciall, that till it be rejected, it is impoſſible any new learning can be acqui­red: beſides, experience ſhewes, that the people whoſe mind it is deepeſt rooted in, are they who are yet moſt ignorant, and leaſt civilized; and becauſe it is frequent enough yet amongſt us, that may be one reaſon to prove, that wee are farre from knowing all wee are capable of; Which may be proved by many exceeding pro­ſitable inventions, as the uſe of the Compaſſe, the Art of Printing Perſpective glaſſes, and the like, which were not found out till theſe latter ages, although now they ſeem ve­ry eaſie to thoſe that know them. But there is nothing, wherein our neceſſity of acqui­ring new knowledge is more apparent than in Phyſick: For although no man doubts that God hath furniſhed this earth with all things neceſſary for man, to conſerve him therein in perfect health untill an extreame old age; and although there be nothing in the world ſo deſired as theſe things, ſo that heretofore it hath bin the ſtudy of Kings and Sages; yet experience ſhews, wee are ſo far from having it wholly, that of­times a man is chained to his bed by ſmall di­ſeaſes, which the moſt learned Phyſicians under­ſtand not, and onely make them rage more by their remedies, when they undertake to expell them. Wherein the defect of their art, and the neceſſity of perſecting it, is ſo evident, that for thoſe who underſtand not what the meaning of Phyſicks is, it is enough to tell them, that it is the Science which ſhould teach ſo perfectly to underſtand the nature of man, and all things that may ſerve him for nutriments or remedies, that it might be eaſie for him, thereby to exempt himſelfe from all kinds of diſeaſes: for not to ſpeake of any other uſes thereof, this alone is weighty enough, to oblige the moſt inſenſible to favour the deſignes of a man, who hath already proved by the things he hath already found out, that there is great reaſon to expect from him the unfound remainder of that Science.

But there is an extraordinary neceſſity that the world ſhould know, you have proved that your ſelfe: and to this end it is requiſite you uſe a lit­tle violence to your own nature, and baniſh that too great modeſty, which hath hitherto hindered you from ſpeaking what you are bound to doe, both of your ſelfe and others. Yet I meane not not therefore to commit you to the learned of this age; the moſt part of thoſe, on whom this name is conferred, to wit, thoſe who cultivate (as they commonly call it) good literature, and the Lawyers have not any thing to doe in what I would have have you talk off. Divines and Phy­ſicians have as little too, unleſſe in the notion of Philoſophers: for Divinity depends not a jot on Phyſickes, nor yet Phyſick as at this day it is practiſed by the moſt learned and prudent in that Art: they are contented to follow the maximes and rules that a long experience hath taught them, and doe not ſo much contemne the lives of men, as to leave their judgement, whereon it often depends, on the uncertain ra­tiocinations of Schoole-Philoſophy: none then but the Philoſophers are unſatisfied, among whom all who have wit are on your ſide, and would rejoyce to ſee you manumit truth, ſo that the malignity of Pedants might not be able to oppreſſe her: for none but meere Pedants can be angry at what you have to ſay: and in regard they are the laughing-ſtock and contempt of moſt wel-bred men, you need not ſtand much on their diſpleaſure: beſides, your reputation hath made them already as much your enemies as they can be: and whereas your modeſty now cauſeth ſome of them not to fear to ſet upon you, I am confident, would you but extoll your ſelfe as you might, and ought, they would ſee themſelves ſo far beneath you, that there is not one of them but would be aſhamed to undertake you. I ſee no reaſon, then that may detaine you from boldly publiſhing, whatſoever you may judge ſerviceable to your deſigne: and no­thing ſeemes to me better for it then what you have already written in a letter to the reverend Father Dinet, which you cauſed to be printed ſeven yeers ſince, when he was Provinciall of the Jeſuites of France. Non ibi, ſay you ſpeak­ing of the Eſſayes you had publiſhed five or ſixe yeers before, unam aut alteram, ſed plus ſex­centis quaeſtionibus, quae ſic à nullo ante me fue­rant explicatae; ac quamvis multi hactenus mea ſcripta tranſver ſis ocul is inſpexerint, modiſque omnibus refutare conati ſunt, nemo tamen, quod ſciam, quicquam non verum potuit in iis re­perire: fiat enumeratiò quaeſtionum omnium, quae in tot ſaeculis, quibus aliae Philoſophiae viguerunt, ipſarum ope ſolutae ſunt, et fortè nec tam multae, nec tam illuſtres invenientur: quinimò profiteor ne unius quidem quaeſtionis ſolutionem, ope prin­cipiorum Peripatetice Philoſphiae peculiarium, datam unquam fuiſſe, quam non poſſum demon­ſtrare eſſe illegitimam, et falſam: fiat periculum; proponantur, non quidem omnes (neque enim openae­pretium puto multum temporis in re impen­dere) ſed paucae aliquae ſelectiores, ſtabo promiſ­ſis, &c. Thus in ſpight of all your modeſty, the force of truth hath compelled you there, to write that you had ſtated in your firſt Eſſayes, which containe nought almoſt but the Diopticks and the meteors, above 600 queſtions of Philo­ſophy, which none before you knew how to do, and that although many lookt aſquint upon your writings, and ſought all manner of wayes to confute them, yet you knew not hitherto any who had pickt any untruth out of them: whereto you ſubjoyn, that if all the queſtions re­ſolved by all other kinds of Philoſophying, which have been in vogue ſince the world began were reckoned up one by one, they would not, it may be, be found ſo numerous, nor ſo eminent. Fur­thermore, you aſſure us, that by thoſe principles, peculiar to the Philoſphy attributed to Ariſtotle, which onely is now taught in the Schooles, no man ever yet knew how to find out the true ſo­lution of any one queſtion; and you abſolutely defie all thoſe who teach it to name any one plainly reſolved by them, in the ſolution where­of you can not demonſtrate ſome errour: now, theſe things having been written to a Provinciall of the Jeſuites, and publiſhed above ſeven yeers ſince, there is no doubt but ſome of the ableſt of that great ſociety, would have endeavoured to confute them, had not they been perfectly true, or if they could have been but ſo much as diſputed with any colour of reaſon: for not­withſtanding the little noiſe you make, all men know your reputation is already ſo great, & they are ſo much intereſſed to maintain, that what they teach is not bad, they can not pretend to ſay they ſlighted it: but all the learned know well enough, that there is nothing in the Phy­ſickes of the School, but what is dubious; and they know withall, that to be dubious in ſuch a matter, is not much better than to be falſe, be­cauſe a ſcience ought to be certaine, and de­monſtrative: ſo that they cannot thinke ſtrange, that you aſſure them their Phyſickes containe not the true ſolution of any one queſtion; for that ſignifies no more, but that it containes not the demonſtration of any unknown truth; and if any one examines your writings to confute them, he finds on the other ſide, that they containe no­thing but demonſtrations, concerning matters formerly unknown to all the world: wherefore being wiſe and adviſed, I wonder not that they hold their peace, but I marvell why you have not vouchſafed to take advantage of their ſilence, becauſe you could not have wiſhed any thing more to make it apparent how much difference there is betwixt your Phyſickes and others. And it is very important to obſerve the difference of them, that the ill opinion of thoſe who are em­ployed in the ſtate, and are moſt ſucceſſefull uſu­ally have of Philoſophy, hinder them not from underſtanding the worth of yours: for they commonly conjecture what ſhall befall, by what they have already ſeen to happen; and becauſe they never ſaw the publike reape any benefit by School Philoſophy unleſſe that it hath made many Pedants, they cannot imagine better is to be expected from yours, unleſſe they are brought to conſider that this being altoge­ther true, and that utterly falſe, their fruits muſt be different. In earneſt, it is a ſtrong argument to prove there is no truth in School Phyſickes, but to ſay it is inſtituted to teach all inventions profitable for life, and nevertheleſſe, though there have many been found out from time to time, yet it never was by the meanes of any of theſe Phyſickes, but only by chance, or cuſtom: or if any Science have contributed thereunto, it hath been only the Mathematicks: which alone of all humane Sciences hath been able to prove ſome indubitable truthes. I know well enough, the Philoſophers admit that for one branch of their Phyſickes; but in regard they were almoſt all of them ignorant in it, and it was no part of it, but on the other ſide true Phyſickes were a part of the Mathematicks, this can make no­thing for them: but the certainty already diſco­vered in the Mathematicks makes much for you: for it is a Science wherein you are acknowledged to be ſo excellent, and you have therein ſo over­topped envy, that even thoſe who are jealous of your eſtimation for other Sciences, uſe to ſay you ſurpaſſe all men in this, that by granting a commendation which they knew cannot be diſputed, they may be leſſe ſuſpected of calumny when they endeavour to rob you of others: and it is ſeen by what you have publiſhed concerning Geometry, that you there ſo determine how far humane capacity can reach, and which is the way of ſolving every manner of ſcruple, that it ſeemes you have reached the whole harveſt, whereof thſe who write before you have onely cropped ſome ears: and your ſucceſſours can be but gleaners, who ſhall gather up onely thoſe you were pleaſed to leave them: beſides, you have ſhewn, by the ſudden and eaſie ſolution of all queſtions, which thoſe who have tried you have propounded to you, that the Method you uſe for this purpoſe is ſo infallible that you never fail to find thereby, what ever the wit of man can, belonging to the things you ſeek after: ſo that to make it undoubted that you are able to bring Phyſicks to the lighteſt perfection, you are onely to prove, them to be a part of the Mathe­maticks, and you have already proved it plainly enough in your principles: when explaining all ſenſible Qualities, conſidering onely their great­neſſe, figures, and motions, you ſhewed that the viſible world, which is all the object of Phy­ſicks, containes only a ſmall part of the infinite bodies whereof the proprieties or Qualities may be imagined, conſiſts onely of theſe very things whereas the object of the Mathematickes con­taines all; the ſame may alſo be proved by the experience of all ages: for although from time to time many of the beſt wits, have beſtowed their time in the inveſtigation of Phyſick, as it can not be ſaid that any of them ever diſco­vered ought (that is, attained any true know­ledge of the nature of corporeall things) by any principle, that belonged not to the Mathema­ticks: whereas, by thoſe belonging to them, abundance of very uſefull things have been found out, to wit, almoſt all that is known of Aſtronomy, Chirurgery, and all Mechanicall arts: wherein, if there be any thing more then what belongs to this ſcience, it is not drawne from any other, but onely from certain obſer­vations, whoſe true cauſes are unknown; which cannot be conſidered ſeriouſly, but it muſt be confeſſed, that the knowledge of true Phyſicks is to be attained no way but by the Mathema­tickes; and your excellence in this not being doubted, there is nothing but may be ex­pected from you in that; yet there remaines one ſcruple, for that it is ſeen that all who have acquired ſome reputation in the Mathematicks, are not, for all that, capable to find out any thing in Phyſicks, nay, and ſome of them leſſe comprehend the things you have written there­of, than many who never learnt any Science at all: but it may be anſwered, that although un­doubtedly they who have wits apteſt to con­ceive the truths of the Mathematicks, are they who eaſieſt underſtand your Phyſicks, by reaſon all the arguments of theſe are deducted from the other; it happens not alwayes that theſe men have the greateſt reputation for the moſt learned in the Mathematicks; becauſe to acquire this re­putation it is neceſſary to ſtudy the bookes of thoſe who heretofore have written of this Science, which the moſt doe not, and oftentimes, thoſe who doe, endeavouring to attaine by labour what they cannot by the ſtrength of their wit, tire out their imagination, yea, hurt it, and ac­quire thereby many prejudices, which hinder them much more from conceiving the truths you write, than paſſing f or great Marhemati­cians: becauſe ſo few men apply themſelves to this Science, that of times there is but one of them in a whole Country; and though ſometimes there be more, they keep a great ſtir with it, in regard the little they underſtand hath coſt them a great deal of pains. Now, it is not uneaſie to apprehend the truths another man hath diſcovered: it is ſuf­ficient for that, that the brain be diſengaged of all ſorts of prejudices, and be willing to afford atten­tion to them; nor is it difficult to find ſome of a contrary bias to the reſt, as heretofore Thales, Py­thagoras, and Achimedes, and in our age Gilbert, Kepler, Galileo, Harvey, and ſome others. Laſtly, a man may, without much pains, imagine a body of Philoſophy, leſſe monſtrous, and grounded on conjectures more conformable to truth, than that which is extracted from the writings of Ariſtotle, which hath been done too by ſome in this age: but to frame one that containes only truths pro­ved by demonſtrations as clear and certaine as thoſe of the Mathematicks, there is none but you alone who have ſhewed us by your writings that you could compaſſe it. But as when an Architect hath laid all the foundations, & erected the chief walls of ſome vaſt building, none doubts that he is able to finiſh his deſigne, becauſe it is ſeen that he hath already done the hardeſt part of it: ſo thoſe who attentively have read your book of Principles, conſidering how you have there laid all the foundations of naturall Philoſophy, and how great are the conſequences of truths which you have therein exhibited, cannot doubt, that the Method you uſe is ſufficient, whereby you may make an end of finding out the utmoſt that can be diſcovered in Phyſicks: becauſe the things which you have already made known to wit the nature of the loadſtone, fire, aire, water earth, and all that appeares in the heavens, ſeem not to be leſſe difficult then thoſe which may be deſire.

Yet I muſt adde here, that let an Architect be never ſo expert in his art it is impoſſible hee ſhould finiſh the edifice hee hath begun if mate­rials requiſite are deficient: in like manner let your method be never ſo exact, yet you cannot make any further progreſſe in the explication of naturall cauſes, unleſs you be able to make re­quiſite experiments to determine their effects; which is the laſt of the three things, I believe, ought chiefly to be explained, becauſe moſt men conceive not how neceſſary experiments are, nor what expence they require; thoſe who, not ſtir­ring out of their ſtudy, nor caſting their eyes on any thing but their books, undertake to diſ­courſe of nature, may well tell how they would have created the world, had God given them authority, and power to do it; that is, they might deſcribe Chimera's that have as much A­nalogy with the imbecilitie of their wit, as the admirable beauty of this Univerſe, with the in­finite puiſſance of its Maker: but without a ſpi­rit truly divine, they cannot of themſelves, frame an Idea, of things, like that which God had to create them. And though your Method promiſe all that may be hoped for from humane wit, concerning the enquiry after truth in the Scien­ces, yet it doth not promiſe to teach Prophecie; but to deduce from certain things laid down, all truths that may from thence be deducted: and the things laid down in Phyſicks can be nothing but experiments. Moreover becauſe experi­ments are of two ſorts; ſome eaſie, that depend only on the reflexion a man makes on things re­preſented to the ſenſes of themſelves; others, more rare and difficult, which are not attained without ſome ſtudy, and expence: it may bee obſerved, that you have already inſerted in your writings all that ſeems may be gahtered out of eaſie experiments, and alſo the rareſt too, that you could learn out of books, For beſides your explaining the nature of all qualities that move the ſenſes, and the moſt ordinary bodies on the earth, as fire, air, water, and ſome others in them, you have alſo therein given an account of all that hath been obſerved hitherto in the heavens, of all the properties of the Loadſtone, and many Chymicall obſervations; So that there is no reaſon to expect any more from you con­cerning Phyſicks, till you have made more expe­riments, whereof you might enquire the cauſes; And I wonder not, that you undertake not to try theſe experiments at your own charges; For, I know, the enquirie after the ſmalleſt things coſt a great deal: and not to quote Chymiſts, nor the reſt of the hunters after ſecrets, who uſe to undoe themſelves at that trade, I heard ſay that the Loadſtone only coſt Gilbert above 50000 crowns, though he were a man of very great parts, as he hath ſhewed by being the firſt who diſcovered the chief properties of that ſtone. I have alſo ſeen the Advancement to Learning, and the New Atlantis, of my Lord Chancellour Bacon, who, of all them that have written be­fore you, ſeems to me the man who had the beſt notions, concerning the method to be held to bring the Phyſicks to their perfection; but the whole Revenue of two or three of the richeſt Kings on the earth, would not be enough to ſet all things he requires for this purpoſe on work. And although I think you doe not need ſo many ſorts of experiments as hee imagines becauſe you may ſupply many, as well by your dexterity, as the knowledge of truths you have already found: yet conſidering that the number of par­ticular bodies unexamined, is almoſt infinite that there is not any one but hath a great many ſeve­rall properties and whereof ſeverall tryals may be made, to take up the time, and labour of ma­ny men; that according to the rules of your me­thod, it is neceſſary at once to examine all things who have any affinitie between them, the better to marke their differences, and to make ſuch quantities as you may be aſſured, that ſo you may profitably make uſe at the ſame time of more ſeverall experiments, than the labour of a great many able men could furniſh you withall, and laſtly, that you cannot get theſe able men but at a great rate, becauſe if ſome would em­ploy themſelves gratis, they would not be obedi­ent enough to your orders, and would only give you occaſion to loſe time: conſidering, I ſay, all theſe things, I eaſily comprehend, you cannot handſomly finiſh the deſigne you have begun in your principles, that is, particularly to lay open the nature of all Minerals, Plants, animals and man, as you have already done all the elements of the earth, and all obſervable in the heavens, unleſſe the publique defray the expences neceſ­ſary for that purpoſe; and the more liberall they ſhall be to you, the better you ſhall be able to goe through with your deſigne.

Now, becauſe all theſe things may be eaſily comprehended by every one, and are all ſo true, they cannot be doubted, I am confident, that if you repreſented them in ſuch a manner, as they might come to the knowledge of thoſe, to whom God hath given power to command the people of the earth, and charge alſo to doe their utmoſt to advance the common good, there is none of them but would contribute to a deſigne ſo manifeſtly profitable to the whole world; and though out France, which is your Country, be ſo mighty a State, that you might eaſily ob­tain from her alone whatſoever is requiſite to this purpoſe, yet becauſe other Nations are no leſs intereſſed therein than ſhee, I am confident many would be generous enough not to give her place in that duty: and that there would not any bee ſo barbarous as not to put in a hand.

But if all that I have written be not enough to make you of another humour, pray, at leaſt oblige me ſo farre as to ſend me your Treatiſe of the Paſſions, and give me leave to adde a Preface to it, wherewith it may be printed. I will ſee, it ſhall be ſo done, that there ſhall be nothing you can diſlike in it but it ſhall be ſo conformable to the reſentment of all thoſe who have either wit or vertue, that no man after hee hath read it, but ſhall participate in the zeale I have to the advancement of Sciences, and to be, &c.

In anſwer to the precedent letter.


Among the many injuries and taunts I find in the long letter you tooke the paines to write to me, I obſerve ſo many things to my advantage, that ſhould you put it to be printed, as you declare you will, I am afraid, it would be imagined there were a greater combination betwixt us than there is, and I had entreated you to inſert many things that modeſty would not ſuffer me my ſelf to pub­liſh to the world. Wherfore I will not here inſiſt in anſwering every particular, I will onely tell you two rea­ſons that, me thinkes, might deterre you from it: the firſt is, I have not any conceit, that the deſigne, I ſuppoſe, you had in writing it can ſucceed; the ſecond, that I am no whit of that humour you ſuppoſe me, that neither indignation nor diſtaſte hath taken away my deſire to be ſer­viceable to the publick, whereunto I think my ſelfe very much obliged, for that thoſe things I have already publiſhed have been by many favour­ably received. That I did not formerly beſtow what I had written of the Paſſions on you, was becauſe I would not be engaged to let ſome others ſee it who would have made no uſe of it: for ſince I compiled it to be read onely by a Princeſſe, whoſe wit is ſo far above the common pitch, that ſhe con­ceives without difficulty what ſeemes hardeſt to our Doctours; I onely purpoſed to unfold what therein was new. And that you may not doubt what I ſay, I promiſe you to review that tract of the Paſſions, and to add what I conceive neceſſary to make it more intelligible, and then, I will ſend it you, to doe what you pleaſe with it: for I am, &c.

A ſecond letter to Mouſieur des Cartes.


It is a long while ſince you have made me ex­pect your tract of the Paſſions, which I begin to deſpaire of, and fancy with my ſelfe that you promiſed it to me onely to hinder me from pub­liſhing the letter I formerly writ to you: for I have reaſon to beleeve that you would be vext, if a man went about to barre you of the excuſe you make to finiſh your Phyſickes, and my deſigne in that letter was to barre you, ſince the reaſons I have there laid down, are ſuch, that me thinkes they cannot be read by any one who hath the leaſt ſeruple of reſpect to honour or vertue, but they will incite him to wiſh as I doe, that you might obtaine of the publick what is requiſite for the experiments you ſay are neceſſary; and I hoped it might happily alight into the hands of ſome who had power to make that deſire effectuall, whether becauſe they had acceſſe to thoſe who diſpoſe the publick treaſure, or becauſe they diſpence it themſelves: ſo I was confident I ſhould find you doing whether you would or no: for I know you have ſo great a hart that you would not fail to repay what ſhould thus be given you, with uſury, and that would make you abſolutely ſhake off that careleſneſſe, whereof at preſent I cannot refraine from ac­cuſing you, although I am, &c.

July 23. 1649.

In anſwer to the ſecond Letter.


I am very guiltleſſe of the ſlight you are pleaſed to beleeve I uſed, to hinder the long Letter you ſent me laſt yeere from being publiſhed: for beſides, that I cannot thinke it can any whit produce the effect you pretend, I have not ſuch a propenſion to idleneſſe, that the feare of labour whereunto I ſhould be tied, were I to dive into many experiments, could prevaile over the de­ſire I have to inſtruct my ſelfe, and write any thing uſefull for other men, had I from the publick received conveniences to doe it. I cannot ſo well cleare my ſelfe of the careleſſeneſſe you charge me with: for I confeſſe, I have beene longer in reviewing the little tract I ſend you, than I was in making it, and yet I have added to it but very few things, and have not a whit altered the diſcourſe, which is ſo plain and briefe, that it will be eaſily known thereby, my deſigne was not to lay open the Paſſions like an Oratour, nor yet a Morall Philoſopher, but onely as a Phyſician: ſo I foreſee that this tract will have no better ſucceſſe than my other writ­ings: and although the title (it may be) may invite more people to read it, yet it will not give ſatisfaction to any b ut them who take the paines to examine it conſiderately. Such as it is, I com­mit it to you, &c.


The Paſsions of the Soul.

The firſt part. Of Paſſions in Generall: and occaſio­nally of the Univerſall nature of Man.

The firſt Article. That what is Paſſion in regard of the ſub­ject, is alwayes Action in ſome other reſpect.

THere is nothing more clearly evinces the Learning which we receive from the Ancients to be defective, than what they have written concerning the Paſſi­ons. For although it be a mat­ter the underſtanding whereof hath ever been hunted after: and that it ſeems to be none of the hardeſt, becauſe every one fee­ling them in himſelf, need not borrow forraign obſervations to diſcover their nature: yet what2 the Ancients have taught concerning them, is ſo little, and for the moſt part ſo little credible, that I cannot hope to draw nigh truth, but by keep­ing aloof off from thoſe roades which they fol­lowed. Wherefore I ſhall here be forced to write in ſuch a ſort, as if I treated of a matter never before handled. And firſt of all I conſider, that all which is done, or happens anew, is by the Philoſopers called generally a Paſſion in relation to the ſubject on whom it befalls, and an Action in reſpect of that which cauſes it. So that al­though the Agent and Patient be things often differing, Action and Paſſion are one and the ſame thing, which hath two ſeverall names, be­cauſe of the two ſeverall ſubjects whereunto they may relate.

The ſecond Article. That to underſtand the Paſſions of the ſoul, it is neceſſary to diſtinguiſh the functions thereof from thoſe of the body.

FUrthermore, I conſider that we obſerve not any thing which more immediately agi­tates our ſoul, than the body joyned to it, & conſequently we ought to conceive that what in that is a Paſſion, is commonly in this an Action; ſo that there is no better way to attain to the un­derſtanding of our Paſſions, than by exami­ing the difference between the ſoul and the3 body, that we may know to which of them each function in us ought to be attributed.

The third Article. What rule ought to be obſerved for the purpoſe.

WHich will not be found a very hard task, if it be taken notice of, that what we experimentally find to be in us, and which we ſee are in bodies totally ina­nimate, ought not to be attributed to ought elſe but the body; and contrarily, that all which is within us, and which we conceive cannot in a­ny wayes appertain to a body muſt be imputed to our ſoul.

The fourth Article. That heat, and the motion of the members pro­ceed from the Body, and thoughts from the Soul.

VVHerefore ſince we doe not com­prehend that the body in any manner thinks, 'tis but equitable in us to believe that all ſorts of thoughts within us belong to the ſoul; and ſince we make no que­ſtion but there are inanimate bodies which move as many or more ſeverall wayes than ours, and which have as much or more heat (which expe­rience ſhows us in flame, which alone hath more4 heat and motion than any of our limbs) we may be aſſured that heat and all the motions within us, ſeeing they depend not on the mind, belong onely to the body.

The fifth Article. That it is an errour to believe the Soul gives mo­tion and heat to the body.

WHereby we ſhall eſchew a very conſide­rable error which many have faln into ſo farre, that I believe it the cauſe of hindering the Paſſions, and other things which belong to the ſoul from being explained hitherto. It is this, that ſeeing all dead bodies are deprived of heat, and conſequently of motion, people imagine the ab­ſence of the ſoul wrought this ceſſation of mo­tion and heat, and ſo erroniouſly conceive that our naturall heat, and all the motions of our bo­dy depend on the ſoul: whereas indeed the con­trary ſhould be ſuppoſed that the ſoul abſents it ſelf in death, only becauſe this naturall heat cea­ſeth, and the organs which ſeem to move the body are corrupted.

The ſixth Article. What is the difference betwixt a living and a dead dody.

THat we may then avoid this errour, Let us conſider that death never comes by any defect of the ſoul, but onely becauſe ſome5 one of the principall parts of the body is cor­rupted; and conceive that the body of a living man differs as much from that of a dead one, as a watch or any other AUTOMA (that is any kind of Machine that moves of it ſelf) wound up, having in it ſelf the corporeall principle of thoſe motions for which it was inſtituted, with all things requiſite for its action, and the ſame watch or other engine when it is broken, and the principle of its motion ceaſes to act.

The ſeventh Article. A brief explication of the parts of the body, and of ſome of its functions.

TO make this more intelligible, I will in few words diſplay the pieces and lineaments, whereof this Machine our body is compoſed. There is none that doth not already know there is within us, a heart, a braine, a ſtomach, muſ­cles, ſinews, arteries, veins, and the like; it is as commonly known, that meats eaten deſcend in­to the ſtomack, and bowells, from whence the juice of them trickling into the liver, and all the veines, mixes it ſelf with the blood in them, and by this means augments the quantity thereof. Thoſe who have heard talk never ſo little of Phy­ſick, know beſides this, how the Heart is com­poſed, and how all the blood of the veines may with facility drop into the hollow vein, on the right ſide of it, and from thence paſſe into the6 Liver, by a veſſell called the venous arterie, then return from the liver into the left ſide of the heart, through the Pipe, called the arterious vein, and at length paſſe from thence into the great ar­terie, the branches whereof ſpread themſelves all over the body. Yea even all thoſe whom the authority of the Ancients hath not totally blind­ed, and who have vouchſafed to open their eyes to examine the opinion of Harvy, concerning the circulation of the blood, make no doubt but all the veins and arteries of the body are like chan­nells, through which the blood continually and eaſily glides, taking its courſe from the right ca­vity of the heart, through the arterious veine, whereof the branches are diſperſed into every part of the Liver, and joyned to thoſe of the venous arterie by which it paſſeth from the Li­ver into the left fide of the heart, from thence go­ing into the great arterie, the branches whereof being ſcattered over all the reſt of the body are joyned to the branches of the hollow vein which cary the ſame blood again into the right cavity of the heart: ſo that the two cavities are as it were the ſluces of it, through each of which all the blood paſſes, every round it walks about the body. Moreover it is notorious that all the mo­tions of the members depend upon the muſcles, and that theſe Muſcles are oppoſite to one ano­ther in ſuch a manner, that when one of them ſhrinks up, it drawes after it that part of the bo­dy whereto it is knit, which cauſes the muſcle7 oppoſite to it to ſtretch forth at the ſame time: then again if at another time this laſt ſhrink up, the firſt gives way, ſuffering the other to attract that part it is joyned unto. In fine, it is knowne that all theſe motions of the muſcles, as alſo all the ſenſes depend on the ſinews, which are as little ſtrings, or like ſmall tonnells coming all from the braine, and containing as that does a certain aire, or exceeding ſubtle wind, which is tearmed the Animall ſpirits.

The eighth Article. What is the principle of all theſe functions.

BUt it is not commonly known in what manner theſe animall Spirits, and nerves contribute to theſe motions and ſenſes, nor what is the corporeall principle that makes them act: wherefore, although I have already glan­ced upon it in former writings, I will not here omit to ſay ſuccinctly, that while we live there is a continuall heat in our heart, which is a kind of fire that the blood of the veines feeds, and this fire is the corporeall principle of tall the motions of our members.

The ninth Article. How the motion of the heart is wrought.

THe f irſt effect of it is, that it dilates the blood wherewith the cavities of the heart are fill'd: which is the reaſon that this blood having need8 of a larger room, paſſes impetuouſly from the right cavity into the arterious vein, and from the left into the great arterie; then, this dilatation ceaſing, immediately new blood from the hol­low vein enters into the right cavity of the heart, and from the veinous arterie into the left; for there are little skins at the entrance of theſe foure veſſells ſo contrived, that they will not let the blood get into the heart, but by the two laſt, nor come out, but by the other two. The new blood being gotten into the heart is there imme­diately rarified as the former was. Hence onely is that pulſe or palpitation of the heart and arte­ries; for this beating is reiterated as often as any new blood gets into the heart. It is alſo this alone which gives motion to the blood, and cau­ſeth it unceſſantly to run very ſwiftly in all the arteries and veines; by means whereof it con­veyes the heart acquired in the heart, to all the o­ther parts of the body, and is their nutri­ment.

The tenth Article. How the animall ſpirits are begotten in the braine.

BUt what here is moſt conſiderable is, that all the moſt lively, and ſubtle parts of the blood, that heat hath rarified in the heart, continually enter in abundandance into the cavities of the braine, and the reaſon why they9 go thither rather than any where elſe, is, becauſe all the blood that iſſues out of the heart by the great artery bends its courſe in a direct line thi­ther ward, and it not being poſſible for all to get in, becauſe there are none but very narrow paſ­ſages, thoſe parts thereof that are the moſt agi­tated, and ſubtleſt, only get in, while the reſt is diſperſed into all the other parts of the body. Now theſe very ſubtle parts of the blood make the animall ſpirits; and they need not, to this end, undergoe any other change in the brain, but only be ſeparated from the other leſſe ſubtle parts of the blood; for what I here call ſpirits, are but bodyes, and have no other property, un­leſſe tha they are bodies exceeding ſmall, which move very nimbly, as the parts of a flame iſſuing from a torch: ſo that they ſtay not in any one place, but ſtill as ſome get into the cavities of the brain, ſome others get out through the pores in the ſubſtance of it; which pores convey them into the nerves, and from thence into the muſcles, by means whereof they mould the body into all the ſeverall poſtures it can move.

The 11th Article. How the muſcles are moved.

FOR the only cauſe of the motion of all the members is, that ſome Muſcles ſhrink up, and their oppoſites extend, as hath been already ſaid; and the only cauſe why one muſcle10 ſhrinkes rather than his oppoſite, is, that there come (though never ſo little) more ſpirits to the one than the other; not that the ſpirits which flow immediatly from the brain, are alone ſufficient to move theſe Muſcles, but they diſpoſe the other ſpirits, which already are in theſe two Muſcles of ſally forth immedi­atly from one of them into the other: by means whereof that from whence they came becomes longer, and flaggier; that wherein they are, be­ing ſuddenly ſwelled up by them, ſhortens and attracts the member appendent to it; which is eaſily conceived, when it is known that there are but very few animal ſpirits which proceed continually from the brain to every Muſcle, but that there are abundance of others lockt in the ſame Muſcle, which move very ſwiftly in it, ſometimes in whirling round only in the places where they are (this is, when they find no paſ­ſages open to get out at) and ſometimes by ſlip­ping into the oppoſite Muſcle: For there are little overtures in each of theſe Muſcles through which heſe ſpirits can ſlide from one to another, which are ſo diſpoſed too, that when the ſpirits which come from the brain towards one of them, are but never ſo little ſtronger than thoſe going to theother, they open all the entries through which the ſpirits of the other Muſcle can fly in­to this, and in the ſame inſtant bar up all thoſe, through which the ſpirits of this might get into that; whereby all the ſpirits formerly contained11 in both Muſcles crowd ſuddenly into one, ſo ſwelling it up, and ſhortning it, while the other extends it ſelf, and gives.

The 12th Article. How outward objects act contrary to the organs of the ſenſes.

IT remains yet to know the cauſes why the ſpi­rits ſlide not from the brain into the Muſcles al­ways after one manner, and wherefore they come ſometimes more towards ſome than others; For beſides the action of the Soul, which in truth, is in us one of the cauſes, as I ſhall ſhew hereafter, there are yet two beſides, which depend not of any thing but the body, which it is neceſſary to take notice of the firſt conſiſts in the diverſitie of motions, excited in the organs of the ſenſes by their objects, which I have already amply enough explained in the Dioptricks: but that thoſe who ſee this, may not need to have read ought elſe, I will here repeat, that there are three things to be conſidered in the ſinews; to wit, their marrow or interiour ſubſtance which ſtret­ches it ſelf out in the form of little threds from the brain the originall thereof, to the extremities of the other members whereunto theſe threds are faſtened; next, the skins wherein they are lapt, which being continuous with thoſe that in­velope the brain, make up litle pipes wherein theſe threds are encloſed; laſtly, the animal ſpi­rits,12 which being conveyed through theſe very pipes from the brain to the muſcles, are the cauſe that theſe thredds remain there entirely unmole­ſted, and extended in ſuch a manner, that the leaſt thing that moves that part of the body, where­unto the extremity of any one of them is faſte­ned, doth by the ſame reaſon move that part of the brain from whence it comes: juſt as when a man pulls at one end of a ſtring, he cauſeth the other end to ſtirre.

The 13th Article. That this Action of objects without, may diffe­rently convey the ſpirits into the Muſcles.

AND I have made it evident in the Diop­ticks, how all the objects of the ſight are not communicated to us any way but thus; they move locally, (by mediation of tranſparent bo­dies between them and us) thoſe little thredds of the Optick nerves, which are at the bottome of our eyes, and after them, the places of the brain from whence thoſe nerves come: they move them, I ſay, as many ſeverall kinds of wayes, as there are diverſities of objects in things; nor are they immediatly the motions made in the eye, but in the brain, that repreſent theſe objects to the Soul: in imitation whereof it is eaſie to conceive that ſounds, odours, heat, pain, hunger, thirſt, and generally and objects, as well of our other exteriour ſenſes, as our interi­our13 appetites, doe alſo excite ſome motion in our nerves, which paſſes by means of them unto the brain; and beſides, that theſe ſeverall motions of the brain create in our ſoul different reſent­ments, it may ſo be that that without her, the ſpirits direct their courſe rather towards ſome Muſcles than others, and ſo they may move our members; which I will prove here, only by one example. If any one lift up his hand on a ſud­den towards our eyes, as if he were about to ſtrike, although we know he is our friend, that he does this only in jeſt, and that he will be care­full enough not to doe us any hurt, yet wee can ſcarce refrain from ſhutting them: which ſhews it is not by the intermedling of our ſoul that they ſhut, ſince it is againſt our will, which is the only, or at leaſt the principall Action thereof; but by reaſon this machine of our body is ſo compoſed, that the moving of this hand up to­wards our eyes, excites another motion in our brain which conveys the animal ſpirits into thoſe muſcles that cloſe the eye-lids.

The 14th Article. That the diverſity of the ſpirits may diver­ſifie their courſe.

THe other cauſe which ſerves to convey the animal ſpirits variouſly into the muſcles, is the unequal agitation of theſe ſpirits, and the diverſity of their parts: for when any of their14 parts are more groſs, and agitated than the reſt, they paſſe forwards in a direct line into the ca­vities, and pores of the brain, and by this means are conveyed into toher muſcles, whereinto they ſhould not, had they been weaker.

The 15th Article. What are the cauſes of their diverſity.

ANd this inequality may proceed from the di­vers matters whereof they are compoſed, as is ſeen in thoſe, who have drunk much wine. The vapours of this wine entering ſuddenly into the blood, mount up from the hear to the brain, where they convert into ſpirits, which being ſtronger, and more abundant than ordinary, are apt to move the body after many ſtrange faſhi­ons. This inequality of the ſpirits may alſo pro­ceed from the divers diſpoſitions of the heart, liver, Stomacke, ſpleene, and all other parts contributing to their production. For it is prin­cipally neceſſary here to obſerve certaine little nerves inſerted in the baſis of the heart, which ſerve to lengthen, and contract the entries of its concavities: by meanes whereof, the blood there dilating more, or leſſe ſtrongly, produces ſpirits diverſly diſpoſed. It is alſo to be noted, that al­though the blood which enters into the heart, comes thither from all the other parts of the body, yet it falls out often times that more is driven thither from ſome parts than others, by15 reaſon the nerves or muſcles which anſwer to thoſe parts oppreſſe or agitate it more; and for that according to the diverſity of the parts from whence it comes moſt, it dilates it ſelfe diverfly in the heart, and at laſt produces ſpirits of dif­ferent natures, as for example, that which comes from the lower part of the liver, where the gall is, dilates it ſelfe otherwiſe in the heart, than that which comes from the ſpleene; and this af­ter another manner than that which comes from the veines of the leggs, or armes and laſtly, this quite otherwiſe than the juyce of meats, when being newly come out of the ſtomack, and bow­els, it paſſes through the liver to the heart.

The 16th Article. How all the members may be moved by the ob­jects of the ſences, and by the ſpirits, without the help of the Soul.

Laſtly, it is to be obſerved, that the machine of our body is ſo compoſed, that all the changes befalling the motion of the ſpirits may ſo worke as to open ſome pores of the braine more than others: and reciprocally, that when any one of theſe pores are never ſo little more or leſſe open than uſuall by the Action of thoſe nerves ſubſervient to the ſenſes, it changes ſome­what in the motion of the ſpirits, and cauſes them to be conveyed into the muſcles which ſerve to move the body in that manner it ordinarily16 is, upon occaſion of ſuch an Action. So that all the motions we make, our will not contri­buting to them (as it often happens that we ſigh, walk, eat, and to be ſhort, doe all actions common to us, and beaſts) depend onely on the conformity of our members, and the ſtreame which the ſpirits, excited by the heat of the heart, follow naturally into the braine nerves, and muſcles. Juſt as the motion of a watch is pro­duced meerely by the ſtrength of the ſpring and the faſhion of the wheeles.

The 17th Article. What the functions of the Soul are.

HAving thus conſidered all the functions be­longing to the body only, it is eaſie to know, there remaines nothing in us, which we ought to attribute to our Soul, unleſſe our thoughts, which are chiefly of two kinds, to wit, ſome, Actions of the Soul, others, her Paſſions. Thoſe which I call her actions are all our wills, be­cauſe we experimentally find, they come direct­ly from our Soul, and ſeem to depend on nought but it: as on the contrary one may generally call her Paſſions, all thoſe ſorts of apprehenſions and underſtandings to be found within us, be­cauſe oftimes our Soul does not make them ſuch as they are to us, and ſhe alwayes receives things as they are repreſented to her by them.


The 18th Article. Of the Will.

Again our Wills are of two ſorts. For ſome are actions of the Soul which terminate in the Soul it ſelfe, as when we will love God, or generally apply our thought to any object which is not materiall. The other are actions which terminate in our body, as in this caſe, that we have onely a will to walke, it followes that our legges muſt ſtir and we goe.

The 19th Article. Of the Apprehenſion.

OUr Appprehenſions alſo are of two ſorts: the Soul is the cauſe of ſome, the Body of the other. Thoſe whereof the Soul is the cauſe are the apprehenſions of our wills, and all the ima­ginations or others thoughts thereon depending. For we cannot will any thing, but we muſt at the ſame time perceive that we doe will it. And although in reſpect of our Soul it be an Action to will any thing, it may be ſaid alſo a paſſion in her to apprehend that ſhe wills. Yet becauſe this apprehenſion, and this will are in effect but one, and the ſame thing, the denomination comes ſtill from that which is moſt noble: there­fore it is not cuſtomary to call it a Paſſion, but onely an Action.


The 20th Article. Of Imaginations, and other thoughts framed by the Soul.

WHen our Soul applies her elfe to fancy any thing which is not, as to repreſent to it ſelfe an inchanted Palace, or a Chimera; and alſo when ſhe bends her ſelfe to conſider any thing that is only intelligible, & not imaginable, for example, to ruminate on ones owne nature: the apprehenſion ſhe hath of things depends ptincipally on the Will which cauſeth her to per­ceive them. Wherefore it is uſuall to conſider them as Actions rather than Paſſions.

The 21 Article. Of Imaginations cauſed onely by the body.

Among the apprehenſions cauſed by the bo­dy, the greateſt part depend on the nerves. But yet there are ſome that depend not at all on them, which are called Imaginations too, as well as thoſe I lately ſpoke of, from which nevertheleſſe they differ herein, that our Will hath no hand in framing them, which is the rea­ſon wherefore they cannot be numbred among the actions of the Soul, and they proceed from nothing but this, that the ſpirits being agitated ſe­verall wayes, and meeting the traces of divers impreſſions preceding them in the brain, they19 take their courſe at haphazzard through ſome certaine pores, rather than others. Such are the illuſions of our dreames, and thoſe dotages we often are troubled with waking, when our thought careleſſely roames witout applying it ſelf to any thing of its own. Now, though ſome of theſe imaginations be Paſſions of the Soul, ta­king this word in the genuine and peculiar ſigni­fication; and though they may be all called ſo if it be taken in a more generall acception: yet ſeeing they have not ſo notorious and determi­ned a cauſe, as thoſe apprehenſions which the Soul receives by mediation of the nerves, and that they ſeem to be onely the ſhadow, and re­preſentation of the others, before we can well diſtinguiſh them, it is neceſſary to examine the difference between them.

The 22 Article. Of the difference betwixt them and the other apprehenſions.

ALL the apprehenſions which I have not yet explained come to the Soul by media­tion of the nerves, and there is this diffe­rence between them, that we attribute ſome of them to the objects from without, that beat upon our ſenſes, ſome to our body, or ſome parts of it, and laſtly, the reſt to our Soul.


The 23th Article. Of apprehenſions which we attribute to objects from without us.

Thoſe which we attribute to things without us, to wit, to the objects of our enſes, are cauſed (at leaſt, if our opinion be not falſe) by thoſe objects, which exciting ſome motions in the or­gans of the exteriour ſenſes, by intercourſe with the nerves, ſtir up ſome in the brain which make the ſoul perceive them. So when we ſee the light of a torch, and hear the ſound of a bell, this ſound, and this light are two everall actions, who meerly in this regard that they excite two ſeverall motions in ſome of our nerves, and by meanes of them, in the brain, deliver the Soul two different Reſentments, which we ſo attri­bute to thoſe Subjects, which we ſuppoſe to be their cauſes, that we think we ſee the very flame, and hear the bell, not onely feel certain motions proceeding from them.

The 24th Article. Of apprehenſions which we attribute to our body.

THe apprehenſions which we attribute to our body, or any of the parts thereof, are thoſe we have concerning hunger, thirſt, and other our naturall appetites; whereunto may be added paine, heat, and the reſt of the affections we21 feel as in our members, and not in the objects without us. So, we may at at the ſame time, by the intercourſe of the ſame nerves, feel the coldneſſe of our hand, and the heat of the flame it drawes neere to: or contrarily, the heat of the hand, and the cold of the aire whereto it is expoſed: and yet there is no difference between the Acti­ons that make us feel the heat, or the cold in our hand and thoſe which make us feel that which is without us: unleſſe that one of theſe Actions ſucceeding the other, we conceive the firſt to be already in us, and that which followes, not to be yet in us but in the object that cauſeth it.

The 25th Article. Of the apprehenſions which we attribute to our Soul.

THe Apprehenſions attributed only to the Soul are thoſe whereof the effects are felt as in the Soul it ſelfe, and whereof any neer cauſe, where­unto it may be attributed is commonly un­known. Such are the reſentments of joy, wrath and the like, which are ſometimes excited in us by the objects which move our nerves, and ſometimes too by other cauſes. Now, although all our Apprehenſions, as well thoſe attributed to objects without us, as thoſe relating to divers affections of our body, be, in truth, Paſſions in reſpect of our Soul, when this word is taken in the more generall ſignification: yet it is uſuall22 to reſtrain it to ſignifie onely thoſe attributed to the Soul it ſelfe. And they are onely theſe latter which I here undertake to explaine under the notion of Paſſions of the Soul.

The 26th Article. That the imaginations, which depend onely on the accidentall motion of the ſpirits, may be as reall Paſſions; as the apprehenſions depending on the nerves.

IT is here to be obſerved that all the ſame things which the Soul perceives by intercourſe with the nerves, may alſo be repreſented to it by the accidentall courſe of the ſpirits; and no dif­ference between them but this, that the impreſ­ſions which come from the brain by the nerves, are uſually more lively, and manifeſt than thoſe the ſpirits excite there, which made me ſay in the one and twentieth Article, that theſe are onely as the ſhadow, and repreſentation of thoſe. It is alſo to be noted, that it ſometimes fals out, this picture is ſo like the thing it repreſents, that it is poſſible to be deceived concerning the appre­henſions attributed to thoſe objects without us, or thoſe referred to any parts of our body, but not to be ſrved ſo concerning the Paſſions, foraſmuch as they are ſo neer, and interiour to our Soul that it is impoſſible ſhe ſhould feele them, unleſſe they were truely ſuch as ſhe doth feel them. So oftentimes when one ſleeps, and23 ſometimes too being awake, a man fancies things ſo ſtrongly that he thinkes he ſees them before him, or feels them in his body, though there be no ſuch thing: but although a man be aſleep, and doate, he cannot feel himſelfe ſad ormoved with any other Paſſion, but it is moſt true that the Soul hath in it that paſſion.

The 27th Article. The definition of the Paſſions of the Soul.

AFter we have thus conſidered wherein the paſſions of the Soul differ from all other thoughts, me thinkes they may be generally de­fined thus. Apprehenſions, reſentments, or emo­tions of the Soul, attributed particularly to it, and cauſed, fomented, and fortified by ſome mo­tion of the ſpirits.

The 28th Article. An explication of the firſt part of the definition.

THey may be called Apprehenſions, when this word is uſed in a generall ſenſe to ſignifie all thoughts that are not Actions of the Soul, or the wills: but not then when it onely ſignifies evident knowledges. For experience ſhewes us that thoſe who are moſt agitated by their Paſ­ſions, are not ſuch as underſtand them beſt, and that they are in the Catalogue of thoſe appre­henſions which the ſtrict alliance between the24 ſoul and the body renders confuſed and obſcure; they may alſo be called reſentments, becauſe they are received into the ſoul in the ſame manner, as the objects of the exteriour ſenſes, and are not otherwiſe underſtood by her; but they may juſtlier be ſtiled the emotions of the Soul, not only becauſe this name may be attributed to all the mutations befalling her, (that is all the va­rious thoughts thereof) but particularly, becauſe, of all kinds of thoughts that ſhe can have there are none that agitate, and ſhake it ſo hard as theſe Paſſions doe.

The 29th Article. An explication of the other part.

I Adde that they are attributed particularly to the Soul, to diſtinguiſh them from other re­ſentments relating, ſome to exteriour objects, as ſmells, ſounds, colours; the others, to our body, as hunger, thirſt, pain. I alſo ſubjoyn that they are cauſed, fomented, and fortified by ſome mo­tion of the ſpirits to diſtinguiſh them from our Wills, which cannot be called emotions of the Soul attributed to her, but cauſed by her ſelf: as alſo to unfold their laſt, and immediate cauſe that diſtinguiſheth them (again) from other reſentments.


The 30th article. That the Soul is united to all the parts of the body joyntly.

BUt to underſtand all theſe things more per­fectly, it is neceſſary to know, that the Soul is really joyned to all the body, but it cannot properly bee ſaid to bee in any of the parts thereof, excluding the reſt, becauſe it is One, and in ſome ſort indiviſible by reaſon of the diſpoſition of the organs, which do all ſo relate one to another, that when any one of them is taken away, it renders the whole body defective: and becauſe it is of a nature that hath no refe­rence to extenſion, dimenſions, or other proper­ties of matter, whereof the body is compoſed, but only to the whole maſſe or Contexture of Organs; as appears by this, that you cannot con­ceive the half or third part of a Soul, nor what ſpace it takes up: and that it becomes not any whit leſs by cutting off any part of the body, but abſolutely withdraws when the Contexture of its organs is diſſolved.

The 31th Article. That there is a little kernell in the brain wherein the ſoul exerciſes her functions more pecu­liarly than in the other parts.

IT is alſo neceſſary to know, that although the foul be joyned to all the body, yet there is26 ſome part in that body wherein ſhee exerciſes her functions more peculiarly than all the reſt; and its commonly believed that this part is the brain, or, it may bee, the heart: the brain, becauſe thither tend the organs of the ſenſes; and the heart, becauſe therein the Paſſi­ons are felt; but having ſearched this buſineſſe carefully, me thinks I have plainly found out, that that part of the body wherein the ſoul im­mediatly exerciſes her functions is not a jot of the heart; nor yet all the brain, but only the moſt interiour part of it, which is a certain very ſmall kernell, ſituated in the middle of the ſub­ſtance of it, and ſo hung on the top of the con­duit by which the ſpirits of its anteriour cavi­ties have communication with thoſe of the po­ſteriour, whoſe leaſt motions in it cauſe the courſe of the ſpirits very much to change, and reciprocally, the leaſt alterations befalling the courſe of the ſpirits, cauſe the motions of the kernell very much to alter.

The 32th Article. How this kernell is known to be the principall ſeat of the ſoul.

THe reaſon which perſwades me that the ſoul can have no other place in the whole body but this kernell where ſhee immediatly exerciſes for functions is for that I ſee: all the other parts of our brain are paired, as alſo we have two eyes,27 two hands, two ears: laſtly, all the organs of our exteriour ſenſes are double: and foraſmuch as we have but one onely, and ſingle thought of one very thing at one and the ſame time, it muſt neceſſarily be that there is ſome place where the two images that come from the two eyes, or the two other impreſſions that come from any ſingle object through the double organs of the other ſenſes, have ſome where to meet in one, before they come to the ſoul, that they may not repre­ſent two objects in ſtead of one; and it may bee eaſily conceived, that theſe images, or other im­preſſions joyn together in this kernell by inter­courſe of the ſpirits that fill the cavities of the brain; but there is no other place in the body where they can be ſo united, unleſſe it be granted that they are in this kernell.

The 33th Article. That the ſeat of the Paſſions is not in the heart.

FOr the opinion of thoſe who think the ſoul re­ceives her Paſſions in the heart, it is not worth conſideration, for it is grounded upon this, that the Paſſions make us feel ſome alteration there; and it is eaſie to take notice that this alteration is only felt in the heart by the intercourſe of a ſmall nerve, deſcending to it from the brain; juſt as pain is felt in the feet, by intercourſe of the nerves of the foot: and the ſtarres are percei­ved28 as to be in the firmament, by the intercourſe of their light, and the optick nerves: ſo that it is no more neceſſary that our ſoul exerciſe her fun­ctions immediatly in the heart to make her Paſ­ſions be felt there, than it is neceſſary ſhee ſhould be in the sky to ſee the ſtars there.

The 34th Article. How the Soul and the Body act one againſt another.

LEt us then conceive that the Soul holds her principall ſeat in that little kernell in the midſt of the brain, from whence ſhe diffu­ſeth her becames into all the reſt of the body by intercourſe of the ſpirits, nerves, yea and the very blood, which participating the Impreſſions of the ſpirits, may convey them through the arte­ries into all the members; and remembring what was formerly ſaid concerning this machine our body, to wit, that the little ſtrings of our nerves are ſo diſtributed into all parts of it that upon occaſion of ſeverall motions excited therein by ſenſible objects; they variouſly open the pores of the braine, which cauſeth the animall ſpirits con­tained in the cavities thereof, to enter divers wayes into the muſcles, by whoſe means they can move the members all the ſeverall wayes they are apt tomove, and alſo that all the other cauſes which can differently move the ſpirits, are enough to convey them into ſeverall muſcles: let29 us here adde, that the little kernell which is the chief feat of the ſoul hangs ſo between the cavi­ties which contain theſe ſpirits, that it may be mo­ved by them as many ſeverall faſhions as there are ſenſible diverſities in objects; but withall, that it may be moved ſeverall wayes by the ſoul too, which is of ſuch a nature, that ſhe receives as many various impreſſions (that is; hath as many ſeverall apprehenſions) as there come ſe­verall motions into this kernell. As alſo on the other ſide, the machine of the body is ſo compo­ſed, that this kernel being only divers wayes mo­ved by the ſoul, or by any other cauſe whatſoe­ver, it drives the Spirits that environ it towards the pores of the brain, which convey them by the nerves into the muſcles, by which means it cauſeth them to move the members.

The 35th Article. An example of the manner how the impreſſions of objects unite in the kernell in the middle of the brain.

AS for example; if we ſee any creature come toward us, the light reflected from his body, paints two images, one in each eye, and theſe two images beget two others, by intercourſe with the optick nerves, in the interi­our ſuperficies of the brain, that looks towards its concavities: from thence by intercourſe of the ſpirits wherewith theſe cavities are filled, theſe30 images glance in ſuch a manner on the little kennell, that theſe ſpirits encompaſſe it, and the motion which compoſes any point of one of theſe images tends to the ſame point of the kernell, to which that motion tends that frames the point of the other image which repreſents, too, part of this creature: by which meanes the two images in the brain make up but one ſin­gle one upon the kernell, which acting imme­diately againſt the Soul, ſhews her the figure of that creature.

The 36 Article. An example how the Paſſions are excited in the Soul.

FUrthermore, if this figure be very ſtrange, and hideous, that is, if it have much ſimi­litude with ſuch things as have formerly been offenſive to the body, it excites in the Soul the Paſſion of fear, afterwards, that of boldneſs, or elſe an affright or ſcaring according to the various temper of the body, or the force of the ſoul, and according as a man hath formerly pro­tected himſelf by defence or flight againſt noxi­ous things whereunto the preſent impreſſion hath ſome reſemblance; for this renders the braine ſo diſpoſed in ſome men, that the ſpirits reflected from the image ſo formed on the kernell, go from thence to fall, part into the nerves, which ſerve to turn the back, and ſtirre the legs to run away,31 and part into thoſe which (as is ſpoken of be­fore) let out or draw upon together the orifices of the heart, or which elſe ſo agitate the reſt of the parts from whence the blood is ſent, that this blood not being rarified there in the uſuall man­ner, ſends ſpirits to the braine that are fitting to maintain, and confirm the paſſion of fear, that is, ſuch as are proper to hold open, or open a­gain the pores of the brain that convey them in­to the very ſame nerves; for the meere entry of theſe ſpirits into theſe pores excites in this kernell a particular motion, inſtituted by nature to make the ſoul feel that paſſion; and becauſe theſe pores relate principally to the little nerves that ſerve to lock up or open wide the orifices of the heart, this makes the ſoul feel it, as if it were chiefly in the heart.

The 37th Article. How it appears they are all cauſed by ſome motion of the ſpirits.

ANd becauſe the like happens in all the o­ther Paſſions, to wit, that they are prin­cipally cauſed by the ſpirits contained in the cavities of the brain, ſeeing they direct their courſe towards the nerves which ſerve to enlarge or ſtraiten the orifices of the heart either to thruſt the blood in the other parts differently to it, or whatſoever other way it be, to feed the ſelf ſame Paſſion: it may be clearly underſtood by this; wherefore, I formerly inſerted in my definition32 that they are cauſed by ſome peculiar motion of the Spirits.

The 38th Article. An example of the motions of the Body that ac­company the Paſſions, and depend not of the Soul.

MOreover, as the courſe which theſe ſpi­rits take towards the nerves of the heart is ſufficient to give a motion to the ker­nell, whereby fear is put into the ſoul: even ſo, by the meere going of the ſpirits, at that time into thoſe nerves which ſerve to ſtirre the legges to run away, they cauſe another motion in the ſame kernell, by meanes whereof the ſoul feels and perceives this flight, which may in this man­ner be excited in the body, by the meere diſpo­ſition of the organs, the ſoul not at all contri­buting to it.

The 39th Article. How the ſame cauſe may excite divers Paſſions in divers men.

THe ſame impreſſion that the preſence of one formidable object workes upon the kernel, and which cauſeth fear in ſome men, may in o­thers rouze up courage; and boldneſſe: the rea­ſon whereof is, that all braines are not alike diſpoſed, for the ſame motion of the Kernell,33 which in ſome excites feare, in others cauſeth the ſpirits to enter into the pores of the brain, which convey them, part into the nerves which ſerve to uſe the hands for defence, and partly in­to thoſe which agitate, and drive the blood to­wards the heart, in that manner as is requiſite to produce ſpirits proper to continue this de­fence, and retaine a will to it.

The 40th Article. What the principall effect of the Paſſions is.

FOr it muſt be obſerved that the principall ef­fect of all the Paſſions in men is, they incite, and diſpoſe their Souls to will the things for which they prepare their Bodies: ſo that the re­ſentment of fear incites him to be willing to fly; that of boldneſſe, to be willing to fight, and ſo of the reſt.

The 41th Article. What is the power of the Soul in reſpect of the Body.

BUt the will is ſo free by nature, that it can never be conſtrained: and of two ſorts of thoughts which I have diſtinguiſhed in the Soul, whereof ſome are her Actions, to wit her Wils; others, her Paſſions, taking that word in its generall ſignification, which comprehends all ſorts of apprehenſions: the firſt are abſolutely in34 her owne power, and cannot, but indirectly, be changed by the body; as on the contrary, the laſt depend abſolutely upon the Actions which produce them, and they cannot, unleſſe indi­rectly be changed by the Soul, except then when her ſelfe is the cauſe of them. And all the Acti­on of the Soul conſiſts in this, that ſhe meerely by willing any thing can make the little kernell, whereunto ſhe is ſtrictly joyned, move in the manner requiſite to produce the effect relating to this Will.

The 42th Article. How the things one would remember are found in the memory.

SO when the Soul would remember any thing, this Will is the cauſe that the kernell nodding ſucceſſively every way, drives the ſpirits towards ſeverall places of the braine, untill they excoun­ter that, where the traces (which were left there) of the object one would remember, are. For theſe traces are nothing elſe but the pores of the braine, through which the ſpirits formerly took their courſe, by reaſon of the preſence of that object, have thereby accquired a greater facility to be open in the ſame manner again than the reſt can have, by the ſpirits that come to them: ſo that theſe ſpirits meeting theſe pores, enter into them eaſier than the others: whereby, they excite a peculiar motion in the kernell, which re­preſents35 the ſame object to the Soul, and makes it know, that is it ſhe would remember.

The 43th Article. How the Soul can imagine, be attentive, and move the Body.

SO when one would imagin any thing one hath never ſeen, this Will hath the power to make the kernell move in the manner requiſite to drive the ſpirits towards the pores of the braine by the opening of which this thing may be repreſented. So, when one would fix his attention ſome pretty while to conſider, or ruminate on one object, this Will holds the kernell ſtill at that time, lean­ing ever to one ſide. So, in fine, when one would walk, or move his body any way, this Will cauſes the kernell to drive the ſpirits towards the muſ­cles which ſerve to that purpoſe.

The 44th Article. That every Will is naturally joyned to ſome mo­tion of the kernell; but that by induſtry, or habit, itmay be annexed to another.

NOtwithſtanding it is not alwayes the Will to excite in us any motion or other effect, that can cauſe us to excite it: but that changes ac­cording as nature or habit have differently joy­ned each motion of the kernell to each thought; as for example, if one would diſpoſe his eyes to36 look on an object farr diſtant, this Will cauſes the ball of them to dilate themſelves: and if one would prompt them to behold an object very neer, this Will contracts them; but if one thinks onely to dilate the ball, he had as good doe no­thing: that dilates it not at all: becauſe nature hath not joyned the motion of the kernell, which ſerves to drive the ſpirits to the optick nerve in that manner as is requiſite to dilate or contract the ball of the eye, with the will of dilating or contracting it, but with the will of looking on objects remote, or at hand; and then when we ſpeak, we only think the ſenſe of what we would ſay, yet that makes us move our tongues and lips, much better, and farre readier than if wee thought to move them in all the manners requi­ſite to pronounce the ſame words. Foraſmuch as the habit we have acquired in learning to ſpeak, hath taught us to joyn the action of the Soul, which by the intercourſe of the kernell can move the tongue, and the lipps, with the ſignifi­cation of the words which follow out of theſe motions, rather than with the motions them­ſelves.

The 45th Article. What the power of the Soul is, in reſpect of her Paſſions.

OUr Paſſions alſo cannot be directly excited, or takenaway by the action of our Will: but they may indirectly, by the repreſentation of37 things which uſe to be joyned with the Paſſions which we will have, and which are contrary to thoſe we will reject; Thus to excite in ones ſelfe boldneſs and remove fear, it is not enough to have a will to do ſo, but reaſons, objects, and examples are to be conſidered of, that perſwade the danger is not great that there is ever more ſecurity in defence than flight; that there is glo­ry and joy in vanquiſhing, whereas there is no­thing to be expected but griefe and diſhonour in flying, and the like.

The 46th Article. What is the reaſon that hinders the Soul from diſpoſing her Paſſions totally.

NOw, there is a peculiar reaſon why the Soul cannot ſuddenly alter or ſtop her Paſſions: which gave me occaſion to put formerly in their definition, that they are not only cauſed, but ſo­mented, and fortified by ſome peculiar motion of the ſpirits; the reaſon is, they are almoſt all coupled with ſome emotion made in the heart, and conſequently in all the blood, and ſpirits too, ſo that till this emotion ceaſe, they remain pre­ſent in our thoughts, juſt as ſenſible objects are preſent in them, while they act againſt the or­gans of our ſenſes; and as the Soul being very sattentive on any other thing, may chooſe whe­ther ſhewill hear a little noiſe, or feel a little pain or no, but cannot keep her ſelf from hear­ing38 thunder, or feeling fire that burns the hand: ſo ſhee may eaſily overcome the ſmaller Paſſions, but not the violenteſt, and ſtrongeſt, untill after the emotion of the blood and ſpirits is allayed. The moſt the Will can doe, while this emotion is in its full ſtrength, is not to conſent to its effects; and to reſtrain divers motions whereunto it diſ­poſes the body. For example; if wrath makes me lift up my hand to ſtrike, the Will can uſually reſtrain it: if fear incites my legs to fly, the Will can ſtop them: and ſo of the reſt.

The 47th Article. Wherein conſiſt thoſe conteſtations which uſe to be imagined between the ſuperiour, and in­feriour part of the Soul.

ANd it is only in the repugnance of thoſe mo­tions, which the body by its ſpirits, and the Soul by her Wil, endeavour to excite at the ſame time in the kernall, that all the conteſtations which uſe to be imagined between the inferiour part of the Soul, called ſenſitive, and the ſuperi­our which is reaſonable, or elſe between the na­turall appetites, and the Will, conſiſt; for there is in us but one Soul only and this Soul hath no di­verſity of parts in it; the ſame which is ſenſible is rationall, and all her appetites are her Wills. The errour committed in making her act two ſeverall parts, which are uſually contrary one to another, proceeds meerly hence, that her functi­ons39 have not been diſtinguiſhed from them of the body, to which only all that can be obſer­ved in us repugnant to our reaſon ought to bee attributed; ſo that there is here no other conte­ſtation, unleſſe that the little kernell in the mid­dle of the brain, being driven on one ſide by the ſoul, and on the other by the animall ſpirits (which are only bodies, as I laid down before) it happens oftentimes that theſe two impulſions are contrary, and that the ſtrongeſt hinders the operation of the other. Now we may diſtiguiſh two ſorts of motions, excited by the ſpirits in the kernell: ſome repreſent to the ſoul the ob­jects which move the ſenſes, or the impreſſions found in the brain, which uſe not any violence on the Will; others doe uſe violence, to wit, ſuch as cauſe the Paſſions, or motions of the body concomitant with them. And for the firſt though they often-times hinder the action of the ſoul, or elſe be hindered by it, yet by reaſon that they are not directly contrary, there is not any conte­ſtation obſerved in them; it is only taken notice of among the laſt, and the Wills which reſiſt them: for example; between that violence wherewith the ſpirits drive the kernell to cauſe in the ſoul a deſire of any thing, and that where­with the Soul beats it back by the will ſhe hath to avoid the ſame thing and what chiefly makes this conteſtation appear, is that the Will having not the power to excite the Paſſions di­rectly (as hath been already ſaid) is conſtrained40 to uſe art and fall on conſidering ſucceſſively di­vers things, if but one wherof chance to be ſtrong enough to alter the courſe of the ſpirits one mo­ment, it is poſſible, that which follows is not, and ſo the others many immediately reſume it a­again, becauſe the diſpoſition preceding in the nerves, heart and blood is not changed: which makes the ſoul feel her ſelf inſtigated almoſt in the ſame inſtant to deſire and not deſire the very ſame thing. From hence it was, that occaſion was taken to imagine two conteſting powers in her. Yet there may ſome kind of conteſtation be conceived herein, that oft times the ſame cauſe which excites ſome Paſſion in the ſoul ex­cites alſo certain motions in the body whereunto the ſoul contributes not, and which ſhe ſtops or ſtrives to ſto aſſoon as ever ſhe perceives them: as is then tried, when that which excites fear­fullneſſe cauſeth alſo the Spirits to enter into the muſcles, that ſerve to ſtirre the legges to run a­way, and the Will to be bold, ſtops them.

The 48th Article. Wherein the ſtrength or weakneſſe of ſouls are known, and what is the miſery of the weakeſt.

NOw it is by the ſucceſſe of theſe conte­ſtations that every one may underſtand the ſtrength or weakneſſe of his ſoul. For41 thoſe in whom the Will can moſt eaſily conquer the Paſſions, and ſtop the motions of the body that come along with them, have without doubt the ſtrongeſt ſouls. But there are ſome who can never try their own ſtrength, becauſe they never let the Will fight with her own wea­pons, but onely with ſuch as are borrowed from ſome Paſſions to reſiſt others. Thoſe which I call her own weapons are firm, and determi­nate judgements concerning the knowledge of good and evil, according to which ſhe hath re­ſolved to ſteere the actions of her life: and the weakeſt ſoul of all is ſuch an one whoſe Will hath not at all determined to follow certaine judgements, but ſuffers it ſelf to be ſwayed with the preſent Paſſions, which being often contrary one to the other, draw it backwards and for­wards to either ſide, and keeping her buſie, in conteſting againſt her ſelf, put the ſoul into the moſt miſerable eſtate ſhe can be, as, then when fearfulneſſe repreſents death as an extream e­vill, which cannot be ſhunned but by flight. if, on the other ſide, ambition repreſent the infamy of this flight, as a miſchief worſe than death, theſe two Paſſions variouſly agitate the Will, which obeying now the one, and then the other, continually oppoſeth its own ſelf, and yields up the ſoul to ſlaverie and misfortune.


The 49th Article. That the ſtrength of the ſoul is not enough with­out the knowledge of truth.

IT is true there are very few men ſo wake and irreſolute, that they will nothing but what their preſent Paſſion dictates to them. The moſt part have determinate judgements ac­cording to which they regulate part of their a­ctions. And though oft times theſe judgements be falſe, and indeed grounded on ſome Paſsions, by which the Wil hath formerly ſuffered her ſelf to be vanquiſhed, or ſeduced; yet becauſe ſhe perſevers in following them then when the Paſ­ſion that cauſed them is abſent, they may be con­ſidered as her own weapons, and ſouls may be thought ſtronger or weaker according as they do smore or leſſe follow theſe judgements, and reſiſt the preſent Paſſions contrary to them. But there is a great deal of difference between the reſolu­tions proceeding from ſome falſe opinion, and thoſe which are onely held up by the knowledge of the truth: ſince following theſe laſt, man is ſure never to acquire ſorrow or repentance, whereas following the firſt, they are inſeparably companions, after the errour is diſcovered.


The 50th Article. That there is no ſoul ſo weak, but well mannaged, may acquire an abſolute Maſtery over her Paſſions.

IT will be commodious here to know that (as before hath been ſaid) although every motion of the kernell, ſeem to have been joyned by nature to each of our thoughts, even from the beginning of our life, they may yet he annexed to others by habit, as experience ſhews in words, that excite motions in the kernell, which according to the inſtitution of nature re­preſent only to the ſoul their ſound, when they are pronounced by the Will, or by the figure of their letters when they are written, and which yet nevertheleſſe, by a habit acquired by thinking what they ſignifie, aſſoon as ever their ſound is heard, or their letters ſeen, uſe to make us con­ceive the ſignification rather then the form of our letters or the ſound of their ſillables. It is alſo convenient to know that although the motions, as well of the kernell as the ſpirits and braine, which repreſent certain objects to the Soul, be naturally joyned with thoſe that excite certain Paſſions in her, yet they may by habit be ſepara­ted, and annexed to others very different; and moreover that this habit may be acquired by one action onely, and requires not a long uſuage: as44 as when a man at unawares meets with any na­ſty thing in a diſh of meat which he hath a very good ſtomack to, this accident may ſo alter the diſpoſition of the brain, thataman ſhall never afterwards ſee any ſuch kind of meat without loathing, whereas before he took delight in eating it. The very ſame thing may be ſeen in beaſts, for although they have no reaſon, nor it may be any thought, all the motions of the ſpi­rits and the kernell, which excite Paſſions in us, yet are in them, and ſerve to foment and fortifie (not as in us the Paſſions, but) the motions of the nerves, andmuſcles their concomitants. So when a dog ſees a Partridge, he is naturally en­clined to run to it, and when he heares a piece go off, this noiſe incites him naturally to run away: yet nevertheleſſe, we ordinarily breed up ſpanni­els ſo, that the ſight of a Partridge makes them couch, and the noiſe of a diſcharged piece makes them run to it. Now theſe things are profitable to know, to encourage every one to ſtudy the re­gulation of his Paſſions. For ſince with a little art the motions of the brain in beaſts, who are void of reaſon, may be altered, it is evident they may more eaſily in men, and that even thoſe who have the weakeſt Souls, may acquire a moſt abſolute Empire over all their Paſſions, if art, and induſtry be uſed to mannage, and govern them.


The Paſsions of the Soul.The ſecond part. Of the number, and order of the Paſſi­ons, and explication of the ſix chief, or Primitive.

The 51th Article. What are the firſt cauſes of the Paſſions.

IT is knowne by what hath formerly been ſaid, that the utmoſt, and neereſt cauſe of the Paſſions of the Soul, is nothing but the agitation, by which the ſpirits move the little kernel in the middle of the braine. But this is not ſufficient to diſtinguiſh them from one another: it is neceſſary therefore to ſeek after their originalls, and examine their firſt cauſes. NOw, although they may ſometimes be cauſed by the Action of the Soul, which de­termines to conceive ſuch or ſuch objects: as al­ſo by the meere temper of the body, or by the impreſſions accidentally found in the brain as it oft befalls that a man feels himſelfe ſad, or merry, not knowing upon what occaſion: it ap­pears46 nevertheleſſe by what hath been ſaid, that the ſame may bee excited alſo by the objects which move the ſenſes, and that theſe objects are their moſt oridinary, and principall cauſes: whence it followes, that to find them all out, it is ſufficient to conſider all the effects of theſe ob­jects.

The 52 Article. What is the uſe of them, and that they may be numbered.

FUrthermore, I obſerve, that the objects which move the ſenſes, excite not divers Paſſions in us, by reaſon of ſo many diverſities in them, but meerly becauſe they may ſeverall wayes hurt sor profit us, or elſe, in generall, be important to us; and that the uſe of all the Paſſions con­ſiſts onely in this, that they diſpoſe the Soul to will the things which Nature dictates are profit­able to us, and to perſiſt in this will; as alſo the very agitation of the ſpirits, accuſtomed to cauſe them, diſpoſe the body to the motions that fur­ther the execution of thoſe things. Wherefore to calculate them, we are only to examine in order, after how many conſiderable manners our ſenſes may be moved by their objects. And I will here make a generall muſter of all the principall Paſ­ſions according to order, that ſo they may be found.


The order, and Numeration of the Paſſions.

The 53 Article. Admiration.

WHen the firſt encounter of any object ſur­prizeth us, and we judge it to be new, or far different from what we knew before, or from what we ſuppoſed it ſhould have been, we ad­mire it, and are aſtoniſhed at it. And becauſe this may fall out before we know at all whether this object be convenient or no, me thinkes ad­miration is the firſt of all the Paſſions. And it hath no contrary, becauſe if the object preſen­ted. Have nothing in it that ſurprizeth us, we are not a whit moved at it, and we conſider it without Paſſions.

The 54 Article. Eſtimation, Contempt, Generoſity, or Pride, and Humility, or Dejection.

TO Admiration is annexed Eſtimation or con­tempt according to the greatneſſe, or ſmall­neſſe of the object we admire. So too, we may either eſteem of, or contemne our ſelves, from whence come firſt the Paſſions, afterwards, the habits of Magnanimity, or Pride, and Humility, or Dejection.


The 55th Article. Vereration, and Disdaine.

BUt when we eſteem or contemn other objects, which we conſider as free cauſes, capable to doe either good or hurt, from Eſtimation comes Veneration, and from meere contempt Diſdain.

The 56th Article. Love, and Hatred.

NOw; all the precedent Paſſions may be ex­cited in us, and we not any way perceive whether the object that cauſeth them is good or bad. But when a thing is repreſented to us as good in relation to us, that is, as being conve­nient for us, this breedes in us love to that: and when it is repreſented to us as evill or hurtfull, this excites hatred in us.

The 57th Article. Deſire.

FRom the ſame conſideration of good, and evill, ariſe all the Paſſions, but to ranke them in order, I diſtinguiſh of the time, and conſidering that they encline us more to look af­ter49 the future, than the preſent, or part, I be­gin with deſire. For not onely than when a man deſires to acquire a good which he yet hath not, or eſchew an evill which he conceives may befall him; but when he deſires onley the con­ſervation of a good, or the abſence of an evil, which is as far as this Paſſion can extend it ſelf, it is evident that it alwayes reflects upon the fu­ture.

The 58th Article. Hope, Fear, Jealouſie, Security and Deſpaire.

IT is ſufficient to thinke that the acquiſition of a good, or the avoiding an evil is poſſible, to sbe incited to deſire it: but when a man conſiders further, whether there be much or ſmall proba­bility that he may obtaine what he deſires, that which repreſents much, excites Hope in us, and that which repreſents ſmall, excites fear: where­of Jealouſie is one Sort. And when Hope is ex­treame it changes its nature, and is called Se­curity or Aſſurance; as on the contrary, extream fear becomes Deſpaire.


The 59th Article. Irreſolution, Courage, Boldneſſe, Co­wardice, Affright.

ANd we may hope, and fear, though the event we expect depends no wayes on us: but when it is repreſented to us as depending on us; there may be a ſtaggering about the election of meanes, or the execution of them. From the firſt proceeds Irreſolution, which diſpoſeth us to debate, and take councell. This laſt, Courage or Boldneſſe oppoſes, whereof Emulation is one ſort. And Cowardice is contrary to Cour­rage, as Scaring, or Affright to Boldneſſe.

The 60th Article. Remorſe.

ANd if a man were reſolved on any Action, before the Irreſolution be taken off that breedes Remorſe of conſcience: which looks not on the time to come, as the other precedent Paſ­ſions, but the preſent, or paſt.


The 61 Article. Joy, and Sadneſſe.

ANd the conſideration of a preſent good ex­cites Joy in us, that of an evill, ſadneſſe, when it is a good or an evil, repreſented as be­longing to us.

The 62 Article. Deriſion, Envy, Pitty.

BUt when it is repreſented to us as belonging to other men, we may either eſteem them wor­thy, or unworthy of them: and we eſteeme them worthy, that excites in us no other Paſ­ſion but joy, ſeeing it is ſome good to us that we ſee things fall out as they ſhould doe. There is only this difference in it; the joy which comes from good is ſerious: whereas that which pro­ceedes from evil is accompanied with laughing and deriſion. But if we eſteeme them unworthy of it, the good excites Envy, the bad Pitty, which are ſorts of Sadneſſe. And it is to be noted that the ſame Paſſions which relate to goods or evills preſent, may alſo oftimes relate to that which are to come, foraſmuch as the opinion a man hath, that they will come, repreſents them as preſent.


The 63th Article. Satisfaction of a mans ſelfe, and Repentance.

WE may alſo conſider the cauſe of good or evill, aſwell preſent as paſt. And the good which hath been done by us gives us, an inward ſatisfaction, which is the ſweeteſt of all the Paſſions: whereas evil excites repentance, which is the bittereſt.

The 64th Article. Good-will, and Gratitude.

BUt the good which hath beene by others, cauſeth us to bear Good-will to them, al­though it were not done to us: and if it be done to us, to Good-will, we adde Gratitude.

The 65th Article. Indignation, and Wrath.

IN the ſame manner, evil done by others, having no relation to us, breeds only in us Indignati­on againſt them: and when it relates to us, it moves wrath alſo.


The 66th Article. Glory, and Shame.

MOreover, the good which is, or hath been in us, in reference to the opinion, other men may have of it, excites glory in us: and the evil, ſhame.

The 67th Article. Diſtaſte, Sorrow, and Lightheartedneſſe.

ANd ſometimes the contiuance of a good cauſeth wearineſſe, or Diſtaſte whereas that of evill allayes Sorrow. Laſtly, from good paſt, proceeds Diſcontent which is a ſort of Sorrow; and from evil paſt, Lightheartedneſſe a ſort of Joy.

The 68th Article. Wherefore this Numeration of the Paſſions, is different from that, commonly received.

THis is the order which ſeemes beſt to me for reckoning of the Paſſions. Wherein I know very well, I digreſſe from the opinion of all who have written before me: but I doe it not with­out great cauſe. For they deduce their Numera­tion54 thus: they diſtinguiſh in the ſenſitive parts of the ſoul two appetites, the one they call con­cupiſſcible, the other Iraſcible. And becauſe I underſtand not any diſtinction of parts in the Soul, (as I ſaid before) me thinkes it ſignifies nothing, unleſſe that it hath two faculties, one to deſire, another to be angry; and becauſe it hath, in the ſame manner, faculties to admire, love, hope, fear, and alſo to admit into it every one of the other Paſſions, or to doe the Actions, whereunto theſe Paſſions impell them, I ſee not what they meant by attributing them all to De­ſire, or Anger. Beſides, their Catalogue com­prehends not all the principall Paſſions, as, I be­leeve, this doth. I ſpeak here onely of the prin­cipall, becauſe one might yet diſtinguiſh many more particular ones; and their number is in­definite.

The 69th Article. That there are but ſix primitive Paſſions.

BUt the number of thoſe which are ſimple, and primitive is not very great; for doe but review all thoſe I have caſt up, and it may ea­ſily be noted, that there are but ſix ſuch, to wit, Admiration, Love, Hatred, Deſire, Joy, and Sad­neſſe: and that all the other are compounded of ſome of theſe ſix, or are ſorts of them. Where­fore, that the multitude of them might not per­plex the readers, I will here treat diſtinctly of the55 ſix primitive ones; and afterwards ſhew in what manner the reſt derive their pedigree from them.

The 70th Article. Of Admiration. The definition, and cauſe of it.

ADmiration is a ſudden ſurprize of the Soul, which cauſeth in her an inclination to conſi­der with attention the objects which ſeem rare, and extraordinary to her; it is cauſed firſt by an impreſſion in the brain, that repreſents the object, as rare and conſequently, worthy to be ſeriouſly conſidered: after that, by the motion of the ſpirits, which are diſpoſed by this impreſſion to tend with might and main, towards that place of the brain where it is, to fortifie, and conſerve it there; as alſo they are thereby diſpoſed to paſſe from thence into the muſcles, which ſerve to hold the organs of the ſenſes in the ſame ſcituation they are, that it may be fomented by them, if it bee by them that it was formed.

The 71 Article. That there happens no alteration in the heart, nor in the blood in this Paſſion.

ANd this Paſſion hath this peculiar quality; it is obſerved not to be attended by any al­teration56 in the heart, and the blood, as the other Paſſions are; the reaſon whereof is, that having neither good nor evill for its object, but only the knowledge of the thing admired, it hath no re­lation to the heart, and blood, on which depend all the good of the body, but only with the brain, where dwell the organs of the ſenſes ſub­ſervient to this knowledge.

The 72th Article. Wherein conſiſts the power of Admiration.

THis doth not hinder it from being exceeding powerfull, notwithſtanding the ſurprize, that is, the ſudden, and unexpected arrivall of the im­preſſion that alters the motion of the ſpirits: which ſurprize is proper, and peculiar to this Paſſion: ſo that it at any time it doe happen to any of the reſt, as it uſually does to