Bulk and Selvage of the World, Chapter 4
CHAP. IV.
THe dealing or buſineſs that is betvveen body and body, being as real as that betvveen body and ghoſt, and body and us vvho are body and ghoſt mingled; it being as ſure that one body cannot penetrate another, as 'tis that a ghoſt can, that the vvhole throng of bodies and each one in it is extended, as that a ghoſt is not ſo, and that a piece of body may be cloven aſunder or ſtirred ſo and ſo, as 'tis that a ghoſt can be neither, like it: having ſeen vvhat body is to God and Ghoſt, it ſeems novv as much behoving us to ſift out, vvhat body is to body and us. In the doing of vvhichwhich, vve ſhall endeavour to ſhevv, hovv far body or the vvorld of bodies may be ſtretched out, hovv ſmall a piece of body may be crumbled, hovv ſvvift or hovv ſlovv either may be moved? And alſo, becauſe vve find the ſtuff of body of a more flitting kind than the ground-vvork or ſubſtance of ghoſt, Hovv long it has or might have already been, and hovv long it does or may laſt? And foraſmuch as body may happily ſhift its being as vvell as its ſeat, Whether there may not have been ſome bodies or vvorlds heretofore, vvhichwhich novv are not? And laſt of all, vvhilſt one may be a great vvay off from another, Whether ſome are not ſo far from our place, as to be far alſo from the vvorld in vvhichwhich vve are placed? Of each of theſe, as they vvill beſt fall in vvith that train of thoughts vvhichwhich vve have framed about them, vvithout aiming at any better rangement for them.
The firſt Head about extenſion in the whole or the utmoſt reach of bodies, will fall into theſe things; to wit, Whether the world be boundleſs or bounded? And if bounded, what 'tis that bounds it; whether body or emptineſs? And if either, Whether they be bounded or not? which ſhall be likewiſe ſet down in ſomewhat a mingled way, as they may lucken moſt readily to come into mind.
Having erewhile ſaid, That manifold lengths of time coming one after other, could never make out an Eternity, or a being boundleſs in abiding, ſo here we ſay, That the cleaveſom bitlings of body heapt one upon another, can never make up an Immenſity, or a being boundleſs in its bulk ſomneſs: but now the world is all heapt up of ſuch little bits: therefore we gather thence, that it cannot be boundleſs in its bulk. The reaſon of the thing to me is clear thus. Every thing that may be riven apieces may have its pieces told, and every tally by which we tell things muſt be either even or odd: every one that is even may have one put to it to make it odd, every one that is odd may have one put to it to make it even, and every one that may have one put to it is not infinite: It follows then, that if there be no parts but may be numbred, and no number but muſt be finite; that whatever is made up of parts is finite too, its parts being told by a finite tally.
Now as to a number beyond the numbers of Arithemetick, I muſt be ſo bold with it, for once, as to ask, Whether it be even or odd? if it be either, we have the ſame choaks for it that we had before; and if it be neither, then 'tis no number: for every number (whether Arithmetical or Hyperarithmetical,) is even or odd, though you take leave to eke it out beyond the bounds of Arithmetick, and make it a greater number; 'tis to be underſtood you muſt not pull out the pluck of it, and make it quite another thing from number: for that would not be a number beyond Arithmetick, but a thing beſides it; not an eking out in tale, but a change in kind: and ſo you may as well call it a ſhooinghorn beyond the numbers of Arithmetick, as a number beyond them.
That the world which is made up of parts finite ſhould be infinite, is to me as great a wonder, as that God ſhould be finite: for I think 'tis as impoſſible that that being which has nothing in it but parts finite ſhould be infinite, as 'tis that that being which has nothing in it but what is infinite ſhould be finite. I cannot ſee why there may not as well be finite things in the infinite Being of God, as an infinite All from the finite parts of bulk; finite ſtanding off no further from infinite than infinite does from finite: 'tis even as broad as 'tis long.
But becauſe moſt men are willing to wave the boundleſneſs of the world, ſo be it, they may but give it, name and thing, to that ſame emptineſs that is thought to be beyond it; we ſhall therefore to our power rumage in it with our wonted freeneſs, that we may underſtand a little, whether it be ſo boundleſs as 'tis thought to be, or whether there be any ſuch thing at all? for having already cut off its partner, eternal time, from the abiding of the world, we are not o truſt, if we can, to pare this ſame immenſe emptineſs too from about its ſelvedge.
To me indeed 'tis as likely, that the world it ſelf ſhould be boundleſs, as that any outworldiſh emptineſs about it ſhould be ſo; that roomthineſs being as really ſomething beſides God as the world is. For what is really extended muſt be really ſomething, but that roomthineſs is as really extended as 'tis at all; extenſion or ſpreadingneſs being the very inwards, and indeed the very all of it.
But the unluckineſs on't is, that if outworldiſh boak be yielded at all, it muſt needs be yielded infinite to boot; For why, there can be nothing thought on, ſleeping or waking, to bound it, but that ſame thought that pitches upon bounds, ſlides on to roomthineſs beyond the bounds, imaginary in infinitum, or bound and room, bound and room in infinitum.
To ſay the truth of it, Some have been ſo forward to yield the boundleſneſs of ſpatium extramundanum, that they have given it the right hand of fellowſhip with God Almighthy; this roomthineſs forſooth being needful for the very exiſtence of an immenſe God: thereby making it at once ſomething, boundleſs, and before God. Something, becauſe needful for God to dwell in, and ſuch needfulneſs cannot be ſpoken of nothing: Boundleſs, becauſe ſuch is that Being that muſt dwell in it: and before God, becauſe it was that God might have ſcope to be: and if God had made it, it muſt have been needleſly; for he might as well have liv'd without it a maker, as no maker: beſides, that a being ſhould make another that it ſelf might have room to be, is the very height and depth of nonſenſe.
And again, ſhould this dreamt or imaginary ſpace anſwer its name, and be no more thing than a dream is, 'tis worſe to think; how ſomewhat that is the fondling of our addle brains ſhould be needful to the exiſtence of the ever bleſſed God who made us, and the beſt brains we have to our heads too.
Now I think, that as Gods Everlaſtingneſs is in time, and boundleſly before it as to imaginary years, without before and after, in an ever-being now; ſo Gods All-fillingneſs is in the world, and boundleſly beyond it as to imaginary worlds or roomthineſs, without any roomthy ſpreadingneſs, in an indiviſible altogetherneſs.
For I bethink my ſelf, that God is as boundleſs in his Almightineſs as in his All-fillingneſs. Now Gods Almightineſs is within the leaſt punctum phyſicum, or duſtling of body, ('twas made and is kept in being by Almightineſs). But Gods Almightineſs being God himſelf, himſelf is there altogether: and if the Almighty be there wholly, the All-filling is there too in like manner; for both is one, and leſs than wholly they cannot be there, becauſe leſs than wholly they cannot be. And we may as well dream of boundleſs imaginary ſtuff for Almightineſs to work upon, as boundleſs imaginary roomth for All-fillingneſs to dwell in; (if it be enough for his Almightineſs to work inwards upon his Eſſence, ſo 'tis too for his All-fillingneſs to dwell inwards in the ſame.) God then being as Almighty in the leaſt brack of the world as in the whole world, he is as all-filling in the ſame too as in the whole: and if that were gone too, he would be as all-filling without it as with it; for he was as immenſe before there was an atome of body or room, as he is now when there are both: and ſo it follows, there needs neither real nor imaginary ſcope to make way for a boundleſs all-fillingneſs.
I remember the excellent Dr. Hen. More, whoſe ſoul may have roamed as far into theſe ſcopes and vaſtneſſes as moſt mens in the world, has not only (in his Enchirid. Metaph.) made Ghoſt, as ſuch, extended; but has ſtarted ſuch a boundleſs roomthineſs, and as needful as God is (if I underſtand him) as is a kind of ghoſt inwardly drilling through the All of body, and ſuch a one too as is ſo far a likeneſs of God himſelf, that it wants nothing of him but only his life and working; and ſomewhere elſe finds in his heart to ſay, That there is a ſpace wherever God is or any ſelf-ſubſistent Being, is as plain to him as the foreign: but, for my ſhare, laying aſide all humour of thwarting my betters, I do as verily believe, as I do any thing I have not a word of God for, that there is roomth no where but where body is, and that ghoſt is ſo far from needing ſpace to be in, that when 'tis in a world where room is, 'tis as far from taking up room as 'tis from putting on body: nor can I but wonder, that one who lives ſo much in the ſoul, and ſo little in the body as he ſeems to do, ſhould find it quite otherwiſe. That worthy Gentleman, I do think, had his reaſons for ſo ſteady a belief, and of that weight to him, that his own are wont to be to others; the ſlighting of which would not ſtrengthen, nor the valuing of them weaken, thoſe of ours on the other behalf, which are mainly the following.
Firſt, I ſee this roomthineſs in the whole, muſt as well have unaſſignable parts or ſuch as cannot be laid out, as body has aſſignable or ſuch as can; and though they be unlaid out in themſelves, they may be laid out by body laid in, as all the parts of that room in which the world is may now be. Now I cannot underſtand, how that which is made up of parts, laid out or unlaid out, which are all finite, ſhould it ſelf be infinite: and that all are ſo I am ſure, becauſe thoſe I know, which are altogether like the reſt which I do not know, are ſo: and as for parts more than all thoſe that are all thus finite, they cannot be: and if all that a thing be made up of be finite, I cannot for my heart think how the whole, which is no more than all, ſhould be infinite; every thing being the ſame with all the parts of it taken together.
Secondly, That ſuch a kind of thing muſt be, that God himſelf may be, ſtrikes me with too great an awe to ſpeak it. They who hold this wild emptineſs, hold alſo (as they muſt) its independency on, or unbeholdenneſs to, God himſelf: Now who would think that there were ſuch a thing that God ſhould be beholden to, for the Being which he has, and that not beholden to him for the being which it ſelf has? And to ſay, that both are eternal as well as boundleſs, and ſo, one was not before the other, becauſe neither did ever begin to be, will take off nothing of the hardneſs: For, (not to ſay, that if one could have been before the other, ſpace had been the eldeſt,) though one was not before the other in standing, the one was worthy before the other in cauſality; though God was never the cauſe of room, yet room was ever the cauſe of God: for that was that God might have leave to be; and had not that ever been, God had never been, had not that ever been without him, he had never been within that; its being making way for his being, its being room making way for his being God; who could not be it ſeems, becauſe he wanted room to be in, though that could be room without his being in it, or would be if he were out of it.
Beſides, they that beſtow extenſion upon any thing elſe but body, as emptineſs, ghoſt, and thence upon God himſelf, are not, I fear me, very well aware of its ill-lookt followers. For whoever makes God a boundleſs extended being, may upon the ſame ſcore make him a boundleſs extended triangle, (one figure being as much extenſion faſhion'd as another, 'tis neither here nor there which:) ſome figure or other he muſt be (as to kind) becauſe 'tis as much of the nature of extenſion to be of ſome ſhape; as to be of ſome roomth, unleſs we ſhould here borrow a bucket ſomewhere and draw up a figure too beyond all the figures in Geometry, out of the ſame depth with the number beyond all the numbers in Arithmetick. Already, it ſeems, God muſt have as many ſhapes in his unaſſignable parts with us, as all the things of the world have in thoſe that we have ſenſe of; their ſhape being nothing but their bulk ſo cantled out: and what there is of God beyond the world, being of the ſame piece with that of him which is in it, muſt alſo put on ſhape as that does; inaſmuch as roomthineſs there, can no more be without it than roomthineſs here. Whence would ariſe what I am not forward at all to ſpeak of; an harſhneſs in theſe things not being ſo harmleſs as the cutting of Cork, whereby, though you ſaw and wring the ears with the ſharm, yet ſtill 'tis but a light buſineſs you have to deal with; and I am thinking the unhandſomneſs will loſe nothing of its diſtaſtfulneſs for not being named only out of dread.
But now one reaſon at leaſt why the underſtanding has been robletted in to theſe waſtes and wildneſſes is, the forefearing, that if emptineſs far and wide were not granted, the world would not be bounded; wherefore rather than make a boundleſs world, many have choſen to yield a boundleſs ſcope beyond it. But we are at no ſuch pend, as we ſhould be fain to fly to either the one or the other; for the world is not bounded by any thing beyond, nor ought any ſuch thing, or kind of thing to be imagined: but 'tis enough that 'tis bounded by it ſelf; its boundedneſs, where 'tis bounded, ariſing as unavoidably from its very kind, as its extenſion where 'tis extended.
The leading miſtake of all, I think, with freedom to others, is this: We firſt roved in our minds at an unbounded emptineſs, and then thought put the world in the midſt of it. Whereas we were alike miſtaken in the middle and in the thing too, both which may thank haſte; for before any thing was made there was nothing, and therefore we ſhould have ſtaid and thought of nothing, but only infinite power, wiſdom, goodneſs, truth, & what other things there are in God, whereby he vouchſafes to make known himſelf to us. Now, for a Being whoſe very Eſſence is no other than theſe, roomth or ſpace is no more needful, than for the dwelling of the good things of the mind and ſoul under thoſe names, or than there is for Univerſal, or boak, as taken in the Mathematicks, ſtript out of body. You may as well be earneſt for a finite room for one, as an infinite for the other, (and perhaps better too, inaſmuch as one may be had, whatever the other may.) If it be ſaid theſe are other kind of beings, (as Moral, Metaphyſical or Mathematical.) I anſwer, So is God too, and more other than they are, becauſe boundleſly other. Beſides, I think a being, that is the term of Creation, or a piece of Gods handy-work, may live without any room, as do the Angels, and would do if world ſhould be no more. If we can but get thus far then, as to think there was no roomthineſs before the world, (If we think there was, we find at what peril we muſt;) 'tis eaſie enough to think further, that there is none beyond it. For 'tis but thinking the world was made and nothing elſe beſides it, which ſurely is true, and the thing is done: for if it were not before the world was made, nor made with the world when the world was made, it never was made, nor never was.
But we are not yet out of the mire, nor like to be, until we can fairly rid our ſelves of that load of objections with which the men of depth and quickneſs have even overburden'd the thing we hold. All, or all the weightieſt of which, that we can feel for, ſhall be diſpatcht in manner following.
Obj. 1. Suppoſe we then with the learned Dr. More, that an Archer were ſo ſeated at the rim of the world, as to level his arrow right through the ſelvedge of it outwards; there being full strength and right aim given it, Would the arrow fly, or Would it not?
Anſ. It would, and it would not, and either according as you make the ſelvedge. If you make it as round as a Mathematical circle, it would not fly: for arrow ſtanding in a ſtreight line, from the innermoſt or centre to the ſelvedge; and there being no more reaſon why it ſhould warp to the right hand than to the left, why this way rather than that, it muſt needs ſtir no way; but ſtick with its head at the ſelvedge, though it has all the force given it that ſtrong-bow and arm-ſtrong can make together. But the ſhapes of nature being of another kind of make than thoſe of handy-works, 'tis very likely that the roundneſs of the world (if yet it be round) is ſomewhat otherwiſe than a true Geometrick circle. As we ſee the ring of the Earth, a far leſs Ball, ends not in lines evenly drawn from the centre thither, but is bounded with hills and dales; and both earth and water with manifold unevenneſſes: much more then are we to gheſs ſuch in the bigger roundle of the world. Whence 'tis, that the arrow may have, by ſome lucky riſing or other, a Bias given it this way or that way, as a Coach may be ſo tickly ſet upon the ſurface of the earth, as to give it ſelf a trundling, one way or other. So then, the motion would be, as touching the world, in a bow or arch of a circle, upon the very ſelvedge of it; but, as touching the Marks-man, in a line ſtreight enough on to the eye. For it flying in a line as far off as it can, according to the ſteering that was given it, it would be ſeemingly as ſtreight as it can be at all; for the nearer the eye comes to a great thing that is bowing, the leſs bowing it ſeems. When we firſt make a Neſs at Land too, it ſeems more a Neſs than when we are leſs off at Sea; but when we are juſt at ſhore, it ſeems to lye in a ſtreight line with the reſt of the Coaſt. And as we are not aware of that bow, which is made by all things darted or ſhot in the air, ſuppoſing the whirle of the earth; becauſe we our ſelves are running the ſame round (as the great Galileo has altogether made out): ſo neither do we ken that bow that is made by the wheeling of a Chariot onwards upon the round ſurface of the earth (whether it ſtirs or ſtands ſtill); but we ſee it run as much flatwiſe or in plano, ſetting aſide the little riſings and fallings of uneven ground, as if the outſide of the earth were a ſhire flat or level. Nor could Sir Fra. Drake have ever gather'd from the eye, that he ſail'd otherwiſe than in a level; when yet he ſail'd in a circle round about the earth. As then, whatſoever moves as much in a flat as it can for the earths rim, we reckon to have moved in a flat altogether: ſo whatever flies in as ſtreight a path as the bow of the worlds bigger rim will give leave, we, if there, would count wholly ſtreight.
And that ſuch ſeeming ſtreightneſs would not ſhow ſidewiſe but forwards, may be gather'd from hence. If I were to look through the earth at an enlightned hole or Well, reaching from me to him that ſets foot to foot with me on the other ſide, the hole would ſeem all downwards to me, although in it ſelf it were half downwards half upwards: As well then may an arrow gliding on the ſelvedge of the world, ſeem to me, there ſtanding, all upwards and nothing at all ſidewiſe.
But to give the objection all the lifts we can, Suppoſe we inſtead of this Shooter, a man leauing his ſide againſt the ſelvedge of the world, with his arm down by it, Could he ſpread forth his arm or could he not? If he could, then he did it in that emptineſs which is gainſay'd: For we will think him to bear it that way, and for the nonce to hinder all other wayes: and if it ſhould but upon the ſhove flie upwards or downwards, or otherwiſe than he aims it, he would quickly be aware of it, by the change of that poſture which it would then have to the reſt of his body. And if it could not, when thus hem'd in, be put forth into the emptineſs at all, What hinders it?
To this we anſwer in the firſt place, 'Tis hugely queſtionable to me, Whether ſuch a poſture may be allow'd as ſtanding with the loadſtoneſhips or magnetiſms of the world, and the ballancings of a body, ſuch as that of mans is. For as we ſee 'tis impoſſible to have the earth, (in this our roundle) otherwiſe than beneath us; ſo 'tis agreeable, that we cannot otherwiſe have the heaven, in the world, than as to ſence above us. The thing taken up then, grates as much upon the face of Dame Nature, as to ſuppoſe a man lying along in the open air at level, or in a line parallel to the plane of the Horizon.
But ſecondly, Bating the Objection all this ſeeming roughneſs, We anſwer: If the man were ſo laid at the worlds ſelvedge, as to have it on the ſide of him, not above his head, his arm hanging by the ſame ſide; if by a ſudden ruſh of the ſpirits into it, he ſhould give it an heave outwards, and from the ſame inward free ſpring of motion ſhould keep it from ſlipping awry: then would not the arm ſtir at all, there being no place left for it to ſtir into, it being all one as if he ſhould thruſt it againſt ſome hard body at reſt, of too ſtout a withſtanding to yield way or give back. If it be further ſaid, it muſt ſure flie outwards, becauſe 'tis lifted that way, and there's nothing to forbid its coming there: 'tis further anſwered, The knack or contrivance of the Frame of the world forbids it; and that is ſomething, and ſomething too as powerful to check or bind motion, as the way-laying of a groſs unweildy body, or any thing elſe that we, by ſence and trial, find enough to ſtop the career of a body in its ſwifteſt hurry.
If this anſwer ſeems harſh or ſtretched, we ſhall eaſily ſlacken and ſoften it by a clearer Inſtance nearer home. Suppoſe we then a bore through the heart or centre of the earth from outſide to outſide, into which let a man be thought falling down: when he comes at the centre he falls no further, but is as ſurely ſtopt there, as if the hole were bored no further, but had the whole pillar of the earths half-thwart line, or ſemidiameter of even bore to withſtand it. Now in this Inſtance it may as well be ſaid, there being nothing in the Tube to hinder, Why ſhould not the man fall further, the air of the Well being all of a make? What could not ſtop him in one place could not in another. And indeed, if the air upon any ſcore could check the downfal, it vvould ſooner do it at the top of the earth, vvhere the ſpring of the air belovv vvas ſtronger, though its vveight aloft lighter; than in the middlemoſt, vvhere the pent or bear of it beneath vvas nothing at all, (there being no beneath at all,) though the vveight above much more, the ſpring of the earth over-ballancing the vveight of it as to povver: vvhichwhich perhaps is one reaſon vvhy all dovvnfals haſten their ſpeed, by how much the nearer they come to the earth. Novv the anſvver to the Phoenomenon is this, That the reaſon vvhy it ſtops there, is, not the meeting vvith any body there of force enough to ſtand againſt the ſhock of its motion, but only the nice contrivance of the vvorlds Frame: and more eſpecially the magnetiſms and poyſes of the earthly Vortex, vvhichwhich vvill not allovv an heavy body left to it ſelf vvithin a flovvſom one that is lighter, to buoy up.
Which buſineſs of deadning the motion of a ſtirr'd body, not from body, but the law of body, puts me in mind of bodies or a mans being ſtirr'd up from reſt, without any jog from body that we are aware of, but mainly from ſome of theſe hidden working laws that round the world. Our ſleep is call'd reſt, and a waking out of it, a being ſtirring: now 'tis eaſie to mark that we are thus ſtirr'd by thoſe wide and unſeen laws that wield the day, while we for little dream of it. Thus our time of waking or ſtirring is the morning, from that even ſhare of refreſhing ſleep, as one would think, that we are wont to take the night before: But 'tis ſhrewdly to be miſtruſted, that ſomething a great deal further off, and broader ſpread, has ſome kind of tamperings here. For if you mind it, you will find, an hundred to one elſe, That whether you go to bed at 8, 9, 10, 11, or 12 a clock at night, you ſhall wake at your wonted hour next morning; (little otherwiſe whether it begin to rain late in the evening, at midnight, early or late in the morning, it does likely hold up, as we ſay, by that time the Shrews have dined): which cannot be from that meaſure of reſt, and new breed of quickners that have befallen the body in the night; for why, there has been ſo much odds in the hours of ſleep. It ſeems then, that the thing that calls us up is Morningneſs, or that woof and plight that the whole tickliſh frame of worldly beings are wheel'd into at ſuch a tide of day. Which we ſhould never have ſprung by hunting for, had we not thus been made aware of it, in that we find there is ſomewhat in it, that firks us more at ſuch a nick of time to wake and ſtir, than the wont that we have got of reſting ſo many hours, can bind us down to bed and ſleep.
And here indeed 'tis mainly to be heeded, That we are by no means to look upon the world as a great heap of faſt and looſe bodies hudled up together at ſixes and ſevens by haſt and careleſneſs, or an hugger-mugger of meddleſom beings all at jars: but a curious frame of well-ranged bulks ſo featly ſet together by a boundleſs cunning, that ſhould but any one pin of it be miſdriven, or the running of its leaſt wheel ſlipt or joſtled, you hazard the cracking and ſplitting of the whole. Whence 'tis, that the leaſt bitling of it will ſo far club and fall in with the laws that bind the whole Set, that we can ſometimes force bodies to cloſe with the woof or tenor of the whole, though it lyes croſs to thoſe little buſineſſes which they ſeem to have been ſet about in their narrow homes: as may be made out by inſtances, enough to fill up a book of bulk, beſtowed upon us from that wealthy and yet growing ſtore-houſe wherewith the Royal Society have enricht the world, and ſingly from that of the Noble Mr. Boyle the glory of it, and Englands too as well as the great wiſh of the whole world beſides us. He that will but weigh & ponder in his mind what at firſt ſight puts forth it ſelf, when looking on a Watch, where the ſingle ſhove or heave of the ſpring, which if the pieces of the Watch were unhing'd and born upon by it would only be puſht forwards or by-wards, puts the Watch thus fadg'd together and in tilter into motions round, right on, level, ſwingling, forwards, backwards, upwards, downwards, and otherwayes, all becauſe 'tis a knack or engine: and ſhall further mark, (the Watch-wrights craft being not only the Ape of Nature, but the very Tool, ſtill in her hand,) that if Nature ſhould but flinch back her hand, or the world that is round about it ſhould but be pluckt away from it, our Watch would without more ado be utterly unwatcht; its being in the world being as needful to its being a Watch, as its being made by the skill of a Watch-maker: the whole Watch being nothing elſe but a cunning and clever way of laying bodies to the wheels and ſprings or ballancings of Nature, as its pieces are put to the ſpring that is ſo craftily lodg'd in it by the Workman. Nothing leſs than a world being able to ſtand upon its own legs, or do any thing after 'tis made; all our knicknacks are but engines within an engine, engines of the Craftſman within the machina mundi, or a Cog put into Natures wheel, which if one did not ſtir the other vvould not, any more than a mill vvould be that 'tis made for, if the vvorld did not help it to vvind or vvater to ſet it a vvorking, as vvell as ſtuff of vvhichwhich to make it. He, I ſay, vvho vvill but vveigh and ſcan theſe things, vvill at length have ſome lovv and underly rovings at, or at leaſt admirings of that height and depth of vvorkmanſhip, that this curious vvorld is vvrought up to.
But 'tis further objected from the ſame learned hand, Though the arrow ſhoved by body, or the arm yerkt by ſpirit enlivening body, will not be gotten into this vacuum extramundanum,yet an Angel unencumbred with body may be there, and help either thither. For if Angels were before the world, and the firſt ofGen. ſhould mean only the works that are ſeen not thoſe too that are not ſeen or were the first dayes work, and ſo existing before the world was ſuch as 'tis as they ſhall after the breaking up of the world by fire, or being no wayes beclam'd with body as to ubiety or whereneſs, or may be wherever God is, who must be in outworldiſh waſts, then may we imagine them there now, and carrying the arm or arrow thither?
Anſw. This Objection as faſt as it comes, comes yet too late: For we have already bereav'd Ghoſts of place, and tyed up that attribute or belonger to bodies only. So that 'tis as impoſſible to ſeat an Angel in outworldiſh emptineſs, as in the world it ſelf; and as impoſſible to ſeat or ſtow it in this world, as to ſeat moral virtue or a Mathematical point here. 'Tis indeed ſuch a great bellied truth that body only can be in a room, that it has another truth in the womb of it, which is, That no body but ſuch as is lodg'd by with or among other bodies is in a room: For to be in a room is to be in ſuch a room, or in a room that may be ſhown, and ſuch a ſhown room as that wherein another body is not. So that if there were but one body, it could not rightly be ſaid to be in a room, but only to be. And in truth of ſpeaking, the whole world is in no place or room, as bearing no ſtowſomneſs to any other body about it; for want therefore of another body, near to or far from which it ſhould be placed, it loſes its ſtowſomneſs or location. Every place of it the mean-while being in a place, as having nearneſſes or farneſſes betwen each other within the great verge; while the whole muſt needs have them from without, or elſe can have none at all. Inaſmuch as it cannot be ſaid of the world, 'tis in this place, or that, or ſome other place beſides, becauſe this and that, and ſome other, would be all one, the world taking up no leſs than all that is; nor that 'tis here or there or ſomewhere elſe, becauſe there would be here, here there, and ſomewhere elſe no where elſe, the world filling up all whereneſſes; all which would be an ill kind of medly: Therefore it ſhould ſeem that it cannot but harſhly be ſaid, that the world has a placeneſs or whereneſs at all. In ſhort, Room is rather in the world than the world in room, as thinking is in the ſoul, not the ſoul in thinking. So that I believe we ſhould never have dreamt of ſtowing any thing in a room, if our minds had not firſt given us that the room was bigger than the thing to be beſtow'd; any more than we ſhould have thought of putting a thing into a box, without we had firſt thought the box was ſo much bigger as to hold it.
The ſame likewiſe, as to another thing befals the Mininium quantum, or the Leaſt ſhare of the world. Cleaveſomneſs we know is the great hanger on to body; but yet the leaſt brack of body cannot be broken a pieces, becauſe 'tis already the leaſt: yet 'tis as really body as that piece which can, and no whit nearer ghoſt than it was when knit to more. So place is another thing that haunts body as much; the whole world in the mean time not being in a place, and yet 'tis never the nearer being ghoſt: for that the one has too little bulk to loſe any and yet be, the other too much to have any thing bigger wherein to take up room, or beſides whereby to be plac'd. Yet theſe belongers to body are helpful enough, wherewith to ſet forth the nature of the things to which we bequeath them: For we are to underſtand, that the ends and bounds of natural beings have things ſpoken of them much otherwiſe than what becomes their whole, or the bigger parts to which they belong. Thus ſuppoſing, that as time had a beginning ſo it ſhould have an end, and only God himſelf to be after this world as he was before it, then the kindlieſt attribute of time, which is ſucceſſiveneſs in abiding, would not be true of the beginning and the end of it. For if the firſt now were ſucceſſive, it was not the firſt: for why, it follow'd a former; and the laſt now could not abide, for if it did, it was not the laſt. When therefore we ſay, All time has fore and aft, we muſt bar the beginning which had not fore, and the end which had not aft: in the mean time it ſtill holding good enough, that time is a ſucceſſive or lengthning kind of abiding. The beginning or end of time being no more time (as we call it) than the leaſt part is the whole, and the definition or whatneſs of a thing ought to to be of a thing as a thing, not of the leaſt or greateſt, firſt or laſt part or a thing, as ſuch part.
But to ſtrain this yet a little further: Suppoſe God Almighty to have made another world beyond, or which is better, beſides this; which being a gathering of bodies, may be ſaid to be ſomewhere, and ſomewhere too where this world is not: and there being our world alſo, it may ſtand ſo or ſo unto ours, and ours ſo or ſo unto that, and thereupon both of them be in a place, and either near to or far from each other: and all this farneſs or nearneſs, or way of ſtanding off, by the bare making of a world over and above this, vvithout the making any thing of ſcope or roomth betvveen. Therefore vvhatever there vvould be of ſuch ſcope or roomth betvveen tvvo ſuch vvorlds, muſt needs before the vvorlds ſo made: and, as it follovvs, muſt be the ſame vvith that ſpatium imaginarium vvhichwhich vve have been ſo ſhie of ovvning all along.
Anſ. To overlook the uncouthneſs of the thing, We will be ſo kind to the ſuppoſition of more vvorlds, by Almighty power, as to let it go for a thing that may be, though it be a great deal more likely, as we may happily ſhew beneath, that it may not be than that it may: And in plain Engliſh anſvver, That ſuch a vvorld beſides this, vvould neither be far from it, nor near to it, or any vvays meddle or make vvith it, any more than if this vvere the only vvorld, or if inſtead of tvvo vvorlds you ſhould there ſuppoſe two Angels. For the clearing up of vvhichwhich vve are to underſtand, That unto a ſtovvſomneſs or local reſpect betvveen tvvo ſtovved beings, 'tis not only needful they ſhould be both bulky; upon vvhichwhich foot vve have taken avvay all ſtovvſom medlings betvveen the vvorld and God, betvveen the vvorld and ghoſts, or between God and the vvorld, and ghoſt and the world, becauſe but one of them is bulky: but 'tis alſo behoveful there ſhould be ſomething beſides the things which are ſtowed, to which roomthineſs ſhould as much belong; two roomthy beings bearing no ſtowſomneſs to each other, upon the account of their being two or two roomthy beings, any more than two ghoſts: but alſo upon the ſcore of roomthineſs put between them. Now room between theſe two worlds being that which is denied, the argument brought to prove it muſt by no means be allowed to ſuppoſe it. Imagine we now two Angels point blank over againſt each other, in the hem or rim of the world, there is room between, but no roomthy or ſtowſom reſpect; becauſe the two things that are there, are ſuch as cannot be put into a place there, and all local habitude or behaviour muſt be between two things or more, in a place ſo or ſo. Then let us ſuppoſe in the ſtead of an Angel, ſome remarkable body; there is one of the terms, body plac'd, and there is roomthineſs between that and the other boundary or term: but becauſe that other is not alſo body, nor can, for want of being ſo, take up room, the local reſpect is ſhier loſt, for nothing but becauſe the third thing is no roomthy being. A ghoſt being in it ſelf not roomthy, it cannot bear any roomthy behaviour towards bodies that are ſo, any more than bodies that are bulky, can bear immaterial reſpects or thoughtſom behaviours towards ghoſts that are ſo; roomthineſs being as much nothing to a ghoſt, as thinking is to a body. Think any what they will, the world is what it is and bodies do what they do: ſo let roomth be, a ghoſt thinks and does the ſame as if roomth were not. They are things that are off in their whole kind, and one does nothing like the other: So that you may as well threap one down, that a ghoſt is heavier or lighter, colder or hotter, wetter or dryer, harder or ſofter, whiter or blacker than a body, as to ſay 'tis further or nearer to it, above it or beneath it, a furlong on the right hand, or a furlong on the left in any other than in a borrowed meaning. As we cannot ſay that a body has an inch or an ell of thinking, an ounce or a pound of underſtanding or willing: for though body and inch, or ounce agree well enough, yet the third thing in the bunch, that is thinking, will not be brought to ſtick to either, (without it be in ſuch borrowed meanings as when we ſay, The love of the world is near the heart, or the fear of God far from it, thoughts heavy in grief, light in gladneſs, ſoftneſs of mind, hard thoughts, and the like.) As in our former Inſtance, body at one ſide of the world, and room from thence to the other ſide, did cloſe well enough; but then ghoſt at the end of it will ſtick no more to it, than birdlime will to a thought.
Moreover yet, That it cannot be ſaid of a Ghoſt 'tis further or nearer to a body given, may hence, I think, be ſeen. The reaſon why we ſay this is further off than that from another, is not only becauſe I cam lay a longer line between them while ſo far aſunder, but that it will alſo take a longer time to bring them cloſe together. Now the motions (if we may call them ſo) of ghoſts being all in an inſtant, (as the darting of our thoughts are through the world,) they can both come home in the ſame time. If then they come home neither ſooner nor later, nor did they lye off either nearer or further. If their coming together muſt be meaſured by the ſame time, their lying aſunder muſt be meted by the ſame metwand. So that which is nearer, muſt be as far off as that which is further, and that which was further, as nigh as that which was nearer; which ſpeaks aloud that nearneſs and farneſs had nothing to do with their being what they were. To a ghoſt the whole world and the leaſt bit of it are all one. A ghoſt at one ſide of the world is as near the other ſide as if it were in the middle, and in the middle as near as if it were at the edge. Now the whole world bearing no cleaveſom behaviour to a ghoſt, 'tis impoſſible the whole or any part of it ſhould bear a local. If we our ſelves were not body as well as ſoul, our underſtandings would never have coped with ſuch a thing as placeneſs or ſtowage at all. If then we ſuppoſe a being that is bulkie, and nothing about it that is ſo, or two beings that are bulky and nothing between them that is ſo; though both theſe taken in themſelves are, after a ſort, and like nothing but themſelves, in a place, yet they have no local reſpect to one another: that being in a place wch they have, ſpeaking nothing which belongs to them beyond their own bounds or outſides, and is nothing in the world but their own roomthineſs, and all the unlikeneſs between them and ghoſt as to ſtowage is, that as to within they are roomthy, and ſo in place, or rather place it ſelf; but as to without, there belongs nothing ſuch to them any more than to ghoſt.
If beſides the two worlds we ſhould ſuppoſe manifold ghoſts laid between them (vvhichwhich may as vvell be as our thoughts are vvhile vve make the ſuppoſal) ſtill they vvould bear no place-like reſpect. For as the placing of body betvveen tvvo ghoſtly beings, vvould not give them a placely behaviour; ſo the ſtovving of a ghoſtly being as a middle thing betvveen tvvo bodies, vvould not give them any ſuch behaviour neither. If then ghoſts betvveen the tvvo vvorlds vvould not give it, ſurely nothing at all betvveen them could not. That cannot do this one thing, that can do nothing at all.
But vve may further be tvvitted vvith this, If there be nothing betvveen the tvvo vvorlds as vve have anſvvered, then the rims of them vvould touch.
To this vve have tvvo or three things to give in. And in the firſt place, We ſay, The catch is ſo unphiloſophical, that that vvhichwhich gainſays it moſt, is moſt true. If nothing were between them, the ſide of one would not butt upon the other, but be inlaid in the other. That one body ſhould touch another, 'tis altogether needful that ſomething ſhould be betwixt them. For we are to mark, that the ſmootheſt body in being has more or fewer unevenneſſes, or ridges and furrows, in its outerneſs or ſurface. The utmoſt ſmoothneſs we can come at by tools or otherwiſe, is full of ſuch little ruggedneſſes, between which lye as many little holes of air; which holes if they could be filled up, or the little ridges and knolls brought down to a level with them, ſo as the ſurface might not be ſome airſom body, but all ſuch thick or faſt body, then this body laid to another, would be ſo far from touching it, that it would be no other than one with it, and the nearer any body comes to this plight, the nearer it comes to inlaying or oneneſs. The pieces of a body do not pierce one another, but are only clapt together at their little ſmoothneſſes as cloſe as they can ſnug, and held there by the poyſings of the world. Thus we ſee two pieces of flat poliſht marble laid one upon another, are either inlaid ſecundum quid or after a ſort, that is, as to ſuch parting as may be made by drawing them aſunder upwards or downward, or elſe they are in a middle between onlaid and inlaid, which is a thing for which we want a word; for the hundredth part of that power that is but enough to ſunder two ſuch flat abutting marbles, is more than enough to break up the very inlaying of a ſpunge.
That ſtounding and ſurprizing Eſſex Writer in his Dialogues de Mundo, roundly bears us down, That two ſuch worlds would touch without any more ado; there being no off-ſtanding betwixt them, becauſe nothing at all between them. And all bodies ſtanding off from each other do ſo, by reaſon of off-ſtanding or roomth put between them. And as it follows, Two ſuch worlds muſt club together and become one; and upon that ground he ſhews A moreneſs of worlds would be impoſſible.
But now we are to ſhew, That that which makes two ſides of two bodies touch, is not the not having roomthineſs betwixt them. There lies no roomthineſs between the ſoul and the body, nor between God and the world, and yet they do not touch, any more than two bodies would do that are off from each other. But 'tis alſo needful there be no poſſibility of putting a quantum or roomth between them, where indeed they do touch; as only thoſe things may touch that have a mayneſs or poſſibility of having roomth put between them. To make one body butt upon another, 'tis not enough that nothing ſenſible be between them; but it behoves them alſo, that they be the neareſt together, that they can be and not be one. But we have already taken away all ſhew of nearneſs and farneſs from the two bulks, by ſhutting out the middleneſs in which ſuch nearneſs or farneſs muſt needs be pitcht. Thoſe bodies or beings that cannot have a placely reſpect, cannot have an abutting or touching reſpect.
Thus on the other hand, the putting of a bulky middleneſs between two ghoſts, 'tis not enough to ſet them at ſuch a farneſs from each other. Suppoſe two Angels to have been before the world in their agreeable whereneſſes, after the making of the world, without any change in their unbodylike way of being ſomewhere, one to be found in the roundle of the Moon, another in that of the earth; extended body is now between them, without the leaſt diſtance or off-ſtanding ariſen between them. For before the world there was no off-ſtanding betwixt them, all extenſion being then unmade, and they holding the ſelf-ſame whereneſſes, muſt alſo have the ſame non-diſtance after the world made. Every thing while it holds the ſame whereneſs, keeps alſo the ſame things to be ſpoken of it as to whereneſs.
If thoſe ſides between which nothing is, do touch and become one, Then if all the world were unmade but Sun and Moon, they two ſhould forthwith jump into one; and it would be hard enough to ſay what it were, Whether a Sun, or a Moon, or neither? ſuppoſing that by Almighty power their Sunſhip and Moonſhip might be kept by them, without worldſhip.
Again, If between which nothing is put, the ſides would touch, according to ſound and right ſpeaking, Then beyond which nothing is put, the ſelvedge is infinite. So it falls as hard upon the Carteſians and the Whitings, for an infinite world, which neither of them dare ſpeak in words, but ſhuffle it indeed: emptineſs or ſpatium imaginarium with them, being as verily nothing, as that which is imagin'd between the two ſides of the veſſel emptied of all its body between them.
And now by driving thus far, We have gain'd ground for the anſwering that puzling argument of the foreſaid Doctor, for diſtance in vacuo, in his ingenious Canto of Infinity of worlds. Suppoſe the skie all ſwept away from Saturn to the Sun, the Planets ſtill holding their rooms, and holding on their roundings as they did before, let then an Aſtronomer take their heights: The Queſtion is, Whether their Parallaxes would be the ſame, or other, or none at all?
I anſwer upon the Suppoſition, (which is wide enough from what is natural, and perhaps from what may be too againſt nature: for that which claws away world from about them, would, 'tis like, wring out their Planethood from within them.) There would be no Parallaxes at all, no beams of light to take Parallaxes by, no throughfarings of the leaſt ſteams or reekings of bodies, from one globe to another or from our earth to any of the globes, nor any power to ſhoot forth any body from one to the other, by any impetus or darting whatſoever. Though the kinred between theſe things ſhould be ſtill left, yet the goſſipred would be quite taken away. Though all ſhould jump in this one thing, to wit, in being Planets as before, yet they could neither ſpeak with, nor make one another, (if I may word it ſo much Yeoman-wiſe,) nor have any more to do with one another than if there had never been dealings between them; that by which they medled and made each with other being taken away. As on the other ſide, we find ſome bodies amongſt us hold up a Goſſipred, that ſeem to have little or nothing of kinred; as may be ſeen between jet and ſtraw, loadſtone and iron, with ſome others of that hooking kind: where, ſetting aſide their angling and groping one for another, there are as few things cleaving to one, to be met with in the other, as in moſt twoes in the whole world. In a word, the buſineſs here would be much at one with that of two worlds ſpoken of before; one being as free from fellowſhip and dealing with the other as they were, or as would be between our earth and ſo many Angels, having ſuppoſed dwellings there, where thoſe Planets have ſuch place. But as for their motion in ring or circular, that muſt not be yielded; for that ſeems as hard to be in vacuo, as for a ghoſt to ſtand ſtill in pleno.
But once more to take off all ſhew of ſtrength from that way-layer, to wit, the ſides of the veſſel muſt needs touch between which nothing is: We will but lay it down thus. Take we a ſquare body in the world unevenly ſided, out of the hollow of this take we then (in our minds) all body whatſoever, leaving nothing at all. The ingenious Des Cartes and others tells us, The ſides for that trick alone would touch. But now we ſay ſtifly, and will ſtand to it ſo, That the ſides would not only not touch, but be ſo far, in part, from touching, that they would, to rights, be further aſunder. For the off-ſtandſtanding or diſtance between them being to be met with only in the body that lyes between them, and the body ſpace and diſtance which lay neareſt between them being taken away, they can only be meted by that which lyes furtheſt off; thoſe bodies being further off that are by all meaſure found to be ſo. Thus the middle point in one of the ſides, for that it cannot be meted by a ſtreight line drawn from it to its overthwart, but only by a crooked line of three ſides and two corners tracing along the ſurface of the hollow, muſt as needs be further from it than before, as this crooked line that goes thus far about to mete it now, is longer than the overthwart ſtreight one by which it might have been meted before.
But it being eaſie for me here to Object it to my ſelf, I may think 'tis as eaſie for another to do it, That then two bodies keeping the ſame place in the world, or ſtanding ſtark ſtill, may yet change place as if they ſtirr'd out of it: which ſeems to thwart at an high rate.
To which I anſwer. If the world in which they are, be changed, 'tis no wonder if their place in it be changed alſo; or if that by which their diſtance be meted, be taken away, is it, that their diſtance ſhould be ſo too: a diſtance that cannot be meaſured being none at all. But by ſuppoſing this emptineſs, the world is not what it was, but by ſo much leſs as our mind took away: as, if the body made nothing ſhould again be made there, it would be by ſo much bigger as that was big; the nearneſs taken away by one deed, would be brought again by the other; and to take away place, or to take away the body plac'd, comes all to a reckoning. I am in the room where I now ſtand, about ſixty miles from Westminſter Abby, If you ſtart that ſixty miles further, though I ſtand ſtill, I am ſo much further from it as if both had ſtarted three miles apiece: but if both it and I ſtand ſtill, and a ſquare cut of earth be digged between us, from the Eaſtern ſhore as far as to the Weſtward, I am as near ſtill by water, but ſo much further by land as I am fain to go about for the ſake of that cut betwixt: but if you empty it as well of water as you did of earth, I am juſt ſo far from it by water as I was by land, and am only as near to it as ever I was by air. So if I were of the winged kind, I might flie to it through the Skie, as well as I could walk to it by land or row and ſail by water: but if you empty out the air too, and leave nothing, I am then ſo much further from it all three wayes: and if I would come nearer to it, I muſt either have a bridge of body laid between, or elſe muſt walk, or row, or flie about. So near one thing is to another as it can come to be, and no nearer: If then I can come no nearer to it, but by the ways ſpoken of, I think I rightly gather I am no nearer to it. That which is as near to a thing as ever it can come, is as near as it can be, without iffs and ands, or to all intents and purpoſes. That I be further from another thing, 'tis all one whether you hitch me off from it while that ſtand ſtill, or whether you put that back from me while I ſtand ſtill, or vvhether you make that betvvixt us further from both vvhile both ſtand ſtill. As you ſee 'tis the ſame in making me further off by land, vvater, or air, ſo I ſee nothing forbidding it to be the ſame by all other vvayes. While the taking ſuch things from betvveen makes me further off as to ſuch things or ſo far, the taking all things from betvveen ſhould make me further off as to all things or altogether. A change of the vvorld in the ſuchneſs of the betvveen-lyers, begetting a change in my nearneſs as anſvvering that ſuchneſs: ſo a change of the vvorld in the whole of the betvveen-lyers, muſt beget a change in the whole of my nearneſs. The more body there is between me and another body the neareſt way that can be gone, the further are we aſunder: and the more body is pared away from the neareſt path that can be gone, the more body is laid between, the neareſt way that can be gone: the more ſhort paths you cut away, the longer you leave behind: and if you cut away ſhort and long, the things are neither near nor far, but name and thing are utterly loſt.
Furthermore, that the anſwer may leſs ſeem to have any thing of trick in it, a like thing may be done, the world not thus chang'd, to make way for it. For as the world now is, a body may glide at full ſpeed, ſo ſhifting place as to the bodies it glides by, and yet ſtand ſtill as to the greateſt part of the world beſides; ſo keeping place, and ſhifting place as uncouthly as in the thing objected. Thus we will take upon truſt the whirling of the earth from Weſt to Eaſt, (which is held by all a thing that may be, by moſt a thing that is,) and a ſhip under ſail driving with the ſame ſpeed from Eaſt to Weſt, (not being checkt by the earths giving over its motion to it.) Now this would ſhift place as to the bodies making up the earths ball, and hold the ſame place as to all the reſt of the world beſides. So we reckon St. Pauls Church in London to ſtand ſo ſtone ſtill, that it never ſtirr'd ground ſince the days of Sebert King of the Saxons; yet ſuppoſing the earths motion, it only keeps its place in reſpect of the earth, or that ſteamſcope or atmoſphere that wheels the ſame round with it, and ſhifts room every day with all the world beſides, that by which its off-ſtanding thereto ſhould be taken, being ſo oft lengthned and ſhortned by the whirl of the earth. And in the thing before us, by taking all body out of the ſquare and leaving juſt nothing, ſuch pieces of the world would be further from others, whoſe neareſt roads for meaſure ſhould lie through ſuch room taken away, keeping ſtill the ſame off-ſtanding to all the reſt of the world beſides.
So true is it, that we name and bound things according to what they ofteneſt or eaſilieſt do ſeem to us to be, and not as to thoſe narrow and leſs heeded by-ways, wherein ſomtimes they may be.
At the foot of this we ſhall yet ſet one remark more, and that is this. That of all men, he that holds a boundleſs roomthineſs beyond the world, muſt beware how he hits us in the teeth with this, That we make a body ſtir and ſtand ſtill both together. For if the foreſtroke give us but a little tick, the backſtroke will be ſure to give him a knocker. We ſay, a body may keep place as to ſome things, and ſhift it as to ſome others: But he muſt ſay, a body muſt ſtand ſtill and run both together, and as to all things. For we will take but this o'truſt, That the world may have been ſinking down, or flying up, or ſtarting aſide ever ſince it was made; He that made it, could as eaſily make it ſtir as ſtand ſtill; and he that we are ſpeaking with, holds it as eaſie to ſtir in emptineſs as in fulneſs: Then ſay, we That this utmoſt ſpeed of about 5675 years, is no other than ſtark ſtanding ſtill. For while it ſtands ſtill, it has but boundleſs room evenly about it, ſo as to be, to our thinking, in the midſt of it: but for all it runs, and has done, thus much, and thus long, it has the very ſame boundleſs room every way about it (nor more, nor leſs) than it ſhould have had, it it had ſtood ſtill: therefore it has ſtood ſtill all the while it has run ſo faſt. For, if that body which is in the midſt of a bounded ring, ſo running 5675 years as to be ſtill as much in the midſt as ever, does ſo run as to ſtand ſtil all the while it runs, then in like manner, That body which has unbounded room ſo every way about it, that if by running never ſo long, and never ſo faſt one way, it would neither lengthen the room behind it, nor ſhorten the room before it, then it ſo runs as to ſtand ſtill all the while it runs; and then if by making it ſtand ſtill, it can have no more than the ſame unbounded room round about it, that it would have had if ſcouring all the while one way or other, its ſtanding ſtill is as much running as its running was ſtanding ſtill, and each as much the other as it ſelf: Which falls ſo pat upon the head of him that owns an emptineſs beyond the world, that I dare be bold to ſay, 'Tis ſuch a flail as there can ne're be fence for.
The quick-ſighted Mr. Barlow coping with Nazarius, who had rightly laid down body and ſpace to be the ſame, and that the worlds being in room is being in its own ſelvedge, has thence rais'd this further Objection; to wit, That the world being thus in its own ſelvedge, may by God Almighty be thruſt into another room; and, as it follows, the room in which now 'tis, is another thing from it; and that room into which it is thrust, muſt be the ſame outworldiſh ſcope that we have been all this while falling out with.
What anſwer Nazarius would give to it, I cannot tell; but from the grounds laid down by us, 'tis as eaſie to anſwer as to name. For as the Argument ſays, the world may be thruſt out of the room in which 'tis into another, our Anſwer ſays it may not be: that is, without God ſhould alſo make another room for it to be thruſt into. And though the may be in the Argument came ſtarveling alone without any thing of proof to back it, yet the may not be in the Anſwer ſhall be thus ſhoulder'd up. Unto motion 'tis not only behooving that the thing ſtirr'd be bulkie, but that the thing through which 'tis ſtirr'd be alſo roomthy. Thus as a ghoſt, becauſe no bulky Being, cannot move through the world, though a bulky throughfare or medium: ſo the world or whole clutter of bodies, though a bulky Being, cannot ſtir any way; for why, it has no bulky throughfare to ſtir in: Whatever ſtirs muſt ſtir in ſomewhat. And if it ſeems odd, that motion, which is an all-reaching affection or belonger to each bit of the world, ſhould yet be denied to the whole, 'tis full as odd, that cleaveſomneſs, which is as all-reaching a belonger to body, ſhould be with-held from a leaſt piece, which is as truly body as the greateſt. But as that would partake of ſundering, if it were not the leaſt that can be: ſo would the world of ſtirring, if it were not the greatest that could be. From the leaſtneſs and moſtneſs, not from the things themſelves, it is, that this befals them. The world is made as much for ſtirring in its kind, as any ſhare of it, if it had but a wherein to ſtir: and a leaſt bitling is made as much for cleaving, if it had but a wherewith to be cloven; its leaſtneſs, not its bodineſs forbidding it.
But it would not be out of the way, it may be, to put one thing more to this Anſwer before we go from it, and that is this, That when I ſay, God muſt alſo make another room for the world to be thruſt into, if it ſtarts at all, I would not be underſtood, as if I meant a room without body; which is the thing I have been ſo much blaming. For, to me, room and body are all one, that is, altogether; as ghoſt and thinking are: And I can no more underſtand how room can be by it ſelf without body, than I can how a thought may dwell by it ſelf without a thinking Being. But the room that I mean, is a roomthy yielding body, big enough to ſhift places with the world. For to me the very life and ſoul of motion is ſhuffle or ſawing, and all ſtirrings one and other are nothing but go-byes or ſhiftings of bodies. So that if one body had not another body to ſlide by and make a ſawing with, that it might be, out one, in another, that way one, this way t'other, it would ne're ſtir while 'tis a body. Whence, that one world may ſtir, another muſt be made for it to ſtir in. Whatever moves, muſt do it ſomewhere, or in ſomewhat, beſides it ſelf too. For nothing can ſtir its whole ſelf within it ſelf: All ſtirring being out of, into. And 'tis eaſier to think, how, if this world were all marble, that piece in the middlemoſt might ſlide it ſelf to the outſide, than how a world, which has no room about it, ſhould ſtir any whither. 'Tis eaſier crowding into a full room, than into none at all. The middle piece here has body about it, but only 'tis too ſtiff and ſturdy to yield or ſhift rooms with it: but the world we ſpeak of, wants both yielding body and body too; and cannot ſtir into a ſomewhere, becauſe all beſides it ſelf is a nowhere.
Now becauſe ghoſt cannot hand the ſaw thus with body ſo as its ſliding into the room of body, ſhould make body ſlip into the room of it, Thence 'tis, as I make reckoning, that ghoſt cannot rightly be ſaid to move. For it cannot be, out body, in ghoſt, as 'tis in motion, out one body, in another; but body in, or body out, 'tis all one to ghoſt. A bodies ſtanding in the way, cannot ſlacken its ſpeed; nor a bodies making way, quicken it. And all motion, being either ſpeedier or ſlower, that which ſtirs neither the one way nor the other, ſtirs not at all. We find that all ſtirring is as the thing ſtirr'd is withſtood; if more, 'tis eaſily, if leſs, 'tis faſt. But becauſe a ghoſt can't be withſtood at all by body, (every body, but where 'tis enſouled, being alike throughfareſom to it,) it does that in one now, at once, that body does in ſome time, by ſteps. For want of which ſtepping or gradation, it cannot well be call'd motion, (any more than its being out of this plight, can be call'd placing in ſome room, or ſtanding ſtill.) But 'tis ſomewhat elſe that we have no right name for, (unleſs skipping or canting may in a low ſort ſpeak it;) as we have none neither for thoſe odd wights, (to name one of a thouſand more,) that ran down a ſteep place into the Sea, with our Lords good leave. For they were neither Hogs nor Devils, no devilliſh Hogs, nor hoggiſh Devils; but a meſling of two, that we have no more name for than we had of yore for that medly of three which we now call Gun-powder: their being call'd Swine, is ſuch a vouchſafement for the Folks ſake, as calling the Devil in a Crawler, a Serpent.
The laſt Argument we ſhall need to name, for width or room beyond the world, is from the ſame worthy Gentleman, and ſtands thus. If God be in very deed in it, then ſuch a thing is: But, that God is indeed in it, may thus be made out; that is to ſay, Becauſe he may frame another world ſtanding off from this, and then be in both of them as in this, otherwiſe he ſhould not be every-where. And if he be in both, the muſt be in the room alſo that lyes between both, otherwiſe he ſhould be two in both, not one, this croſſing his one-foldneſs as much as the other did his all-fillingneſs.
Anſw. Had theſe Bugbears comen in the Van, they might have put on the ſhew of a forlorn of Bravoes: But having grapled already with ſo many Battalioes, and wrought our way through ſuch ſtrong faſtneſſes, we are not to be worſted by the reermoſt and very leavings. We ſay then in ſhort, That all this waſt ariſes from a miſtake, that God is every-where in the world ſo as to be coextended with the world: Whereas the truth is, Were there no ſpace at all, neither real nor counterfeit, (as none was, before he who made all things, made that,) God ſhould be as immenſe as he is for all that: As if there had never been any time, (nor was there, till God made timeſom Beings,) he had been as eternal as he is. As God by making of a body and real ſpace with it, every-where in which he really is, is thereby no more really in ſpace himſelf than he vvas before, or no more roomthily there than he vvas before; (What he really is, he vvas from everlaſting:) So by not making of a body, he is not leſs really in ſpace, or in imaginary ſcope: But let ſpace be vvhat it vvill, his everyvvayneſs or immenſity is the ſame, one not medling at all vvith the other.
I ſay then, That God vvould be in thoſe tvvo vvorlds as he is in this. As he is not here by halves, ſo neither vvould he be there. As he is not partly in one piece of this vvorld and partly in another; but vvholly in all, and vvholly in each, vvholly in Eaſt ſide, and vvholly in Weſt ſide, vvithout having any part of him in the parts betvveen: So he vvould not be partly in one vvorld and partly in another, but vvholly in both, and vvholly in each. And as for taking up the room betvveen them, either vvith vvhole or vvith part, the care is taken: for vve have already made it out, That there vvould be no room at all; and that vvhichwhich is not at all, God is not in at all. While God is ſo in tvvo vvorlds, that though they do not touch or abut, yet there lyes nothing betvveen them; 'tis all one as to the one-foldneſs of his Being, as if they tvvo did touch, or vvere both made one: for there can be no more than nothing betvveen tvvo vvorlds that touch, or betvveen the very parts themſelves of one vvorld; in any of vvhichwhich, and in every of vvhichwhich, 'tis yet eaſily yielded God may be, and be one too.