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Preaching of Sermons is Speaking to a few of Mankind: Printing of Books is Talking to the whole World. The Parson Prescribes himself, and addresses to the particular Auditory with the Appellation of My Brethren; but he that Prints a Book, ought to Preface it with a Noverint Universi, Know all Men by these Presents.
The proper Inference drawn from this remarkable Observation, is, That tho' he that Preaches from the Pulpit ought to be careful of his Words, that nothing pass from him but with an especial Sanction of Truth; yet he that Prints and Publishes to all the World, has a tenfold Obligation.
The Sermon is a Sound of Words spoken to the Ear, and prepar'd only for present Meditation, and extends no farther than the strength of Memory can convey it; a Book Printed is a Record; remaining in every Man's Possession, always ready to renew its Acquaintance with his Memory, and always ready to be produc'd as an Authority or Voucher to any Reports he makes out of it, and conveys its Contents for Ages to come, to the Eternity of mortal Time, when the Author is forgotten in his Grave.
If a Sermon be ill grounded, if the Preacher imposes upon us, he trespasses on a few; but if a Book Printed obtrudes a Falshood, if a Man tells a Lye in Print, he abuses Mankind, and imposes upon the whole World, he causes our Children to tell Lyes after us, and their Children after them, to the End of the World.
This Observation I thought good to make by way of Preface, to let the World know, that when I go about a Work in which I must tell a great many Stories, which may in their own nature seem incredible, and in which I must expect a great part of Mankind will question the Sincerity of the Relator; I did not do it without a particular sence upon me of the proper Duty of an Historian, and the abundant Duty laid on him to be very wary what he conveys to Posterity.
I cannot be so ignorant of my own Intentions, as not to know, that in many Cases I shall act the Divine, and draw necessary practical Inferences from the extraordinary Remarkables of this Book, and some Digressions which I hope may not be altogether useless in this Case.
And while I pretend to a thing so solemn, I cannot but premise I should stand convicted of a double Imposture, to forge a Story, and then preach Repentance to the Reader from a Crime greater than that I would have him repent of: endeavouring by a Lye to correct the Reader's Vices, and sin against Truth to bring the Reader off from sinning against Sence.
Upon this score, tho' the Undertaking be very difficult among such an infinite variety of Circumstances, to keep, exactly within the bounds of Truth; yet I have this positive Assurance with me, that in all the subsequent Relation, if the least Mistake happen, it shall not be mine.
If I judge right, 'Tis the Duty of an Historian to set every thing in its own Light, and to convey matter of fact upon its legitimate Authority, and no other: I mean thus, (for I wou'd be as explicit as I can) That where a Story is vouch'd to him with sufficient Authority, he ought to give the World the Special Testimonial of its proper Voucher, or else he is not just to the Story: and where it comes without such sufficient Authority, he ought to say so; otherwise he is not just to himself. In the first Case he injures the History, by leaving it doubtful where it might be confirm'd past all manner of question; in the last he injures his own Reputation, by taking upon himself the Risque, in case it proves a Mistake, of having the World charge him with a Forgery.
And indeed, I cannot but own 'tis just, that if I tell a Story in Print for a Truth which proves otherwise, unless I, at the same time, give proper Caution to the Reader, by owning the Uncertainty of my Knowledge in the matter of fact, 'tis I impose upon the World: my Relater is innocent, and the Lye is my own.
I make all these preliminary Observations, partly to inform the Reader, that I have not undertaken this Work without the serious Consideration of what I owe to Truth, and to Posterity; nor without a Sence of the extraordinary Variety and Novelty of the Relation.
I am sensible, that the want of this Caution is the Foundation of that great Misfortune we have in matters of ancient History; in which the Impudence, the Ribaldry, the empty Flourishes, the little Regard to Truth, and the Fondness of telling a strange Story, has dwindled a great many valuable Pieces of ancient History into meer Romance.
How are the Lives of some of our most famous Men, nay the Actions of whole Ages, drowned in Fable? Not that there wanted Pen-men to write, but that their Writings were continually mixt with such Rhodomontades of the Authors that Posterity rejected them as fabulous.
From hence it comes to pass that Matters of Fact are handed down to Posterity with so little Certainty, that nothing is to be depended upon; from hence the uncertain Account of Things and Actions in the remoter Ages of the World, the confounding the Genealogies as well as Atchievements of Belus, Nimrod, and Nimrus, and their Successors, the Histories and Originals of Saturn, Jupiter, and the rest of the Celestial Rabble, who Mankind would have been asham'd to have call'd Gods, had they had the true Account of their dissolute, exorbitant, and inhumane Lives.
From Men we may descend to Action: and this prodigious Looseness of the Pen has confounded History and Fable from the beginning of both. Thus the great Flood in Deucalion's Time is made to pass for the Universal Deluge: the Ingenuity of Dedalus, who by a Clue of Thread got out of the Egyptian Maze, which was thought impossible, is grown into a Fable of making himself a pair of Wings, and flying through the Air: – the great Drought and violent Heat of Summer, thought to be the Time when the Great Famine was in Samaria, fabl'd by the Poets and Historians into the Story of Phaeton borrowing the Chariot of the Sun, and giving the Horses their Heads, they run so near the Earth as burnt up all the nearest Parts, and scorch'd the Inhabitants, so that they have been black in those Parts ever since.
These, and such like ridiculous Stuff, have been the Effects of the Pageantry of Historians in former Ages: and I might descend nearer home, to the Legends of Fabulous History which have swallow'd up the Actions of our ancient Predecessors, King Arthur, the Gyant Gogmagog, and the Britain, the Stories of St. George and the Dragon, Guy Earl of Warwick, Bevis of Southampton, and the like.
I'll account for better Conduct in the ensuing History: and tho' some Things here related shall have equal Wonder due to them, Posterity shall not have equal Occasion to distrust the Verity of the Relation.
I confess here is room for abundance of Romance, because the Subject may be safer extended than in any other case, no Story being capable to be crowded with such Circumstances, but Infinite Power, which is all along concern'd with us in every Relation, is suppos'd capable of making true.
Yet we shall no where so Trespass upon Fact, as to oblige Infinite Power to the shewing more Miracles than it intended.
It must be allow'd, That when Nature was put into so much Confusion, and the Surface of the Earth and Sea felt such extraordinary a Disorder, innumerable Accidents would fall out that till the like Occasion happen may never more be seen, and unless a like Occasion had happen'd could never before be heard of: wherefore the particular Circumstances being so wonderful, serve but to remember Posterity of the more wonderful Extreme, which was the immediate Cause.
The Uses and Application made from this Terrible Doctrine, I leave to the Men of the Pulpit; only take the freedom to observe, that when Heaven it self lays down the Doctrine, all Men are summon'd to make Applications by themselves.
The main Inference I shall pretend to make or at least venture the exposing to publick View, in this case, is, the strong Evidence God has been pleas'd to give in this terrible manner to his own Being, which Mankind began more than ever to affront and despise: And I cannot but have so much Charity for the worst of my Fellow-Creatures, that I believe no Man was so hard'ned against the Sence of his Maker, but he felt some Shocks of his wicked Confidence from the Convulsions of Nature at this time.
I cannot believe any Man so rooted in Atheistical Opinions, as not to find some Cause to doubt whether he was not in the Wrong, and a little to apprehend the Possibility of a Supreme Being, when he felt the terrible Blasts of this Tempest. I cannot doubt but the Atheist's hard'ned Soul trembl'd a little as well as his House, and he felt some Nature asking him some little Questions; as these– Am not I mistaken? Certainly there is some such thing as a God – What can all this be? What is the Matter in the World?
Certainly Atheism is one of the most Irrational Principles in the World; there is something incongruous in it with the Test of Humane Policy, because there is a Risque in the Mistake one way, and none another. If the Christian is mistaken, and it should at last appear that there is no Future State, God or Devil, Reward or Punishment, where is the Harm of it? All he has lost is, that he has practis'd a few needless Mortifications, and took the pains to live a little more like a Man than he wou'd have done. But if the Atheist is mistaken, he has brought all the Powers, whose Being he deny'd, upon his Back, has provok'd the Infinite in the highest manner, and must at last sink under the Anger of him whose Nature he has always disown'd.
I would recommend this Thought to any Man to consider of, one Way he can lose nothing, the other he may be undone. Certainly a wise Man would never run such an unequal Risque: a Man cannot answer it to Common Arguments, the Law of Numbers, and the Rules of Proportion are against him. No Gamester will set at such a Main; no Man will lay such a Wager, where he may lose, but cannot win.
There is another unhappy Misfortune in the Mistake too, that it can never be discover'd till 'tis too late to remedy. He that resolves to die an Atheist, shuts the Door against being convinc'd in time.
If it shou'd so fall out, as who can tell,But that there is a God, a Heaven, and Hell,Mankind had best consider well for Fear,'t should be too late when his Mistakes appear.I should not pretend to set up for an Instructor in this Case, were not the Inference so exceeding just; who can but preach where there is such a Text? when God himself speaks his own Power, he expects we should draw just Inferences from it, both for our Selves and our Friends.
If one Man, in an Hundred Years, shall arrive at a Conviction of the Being of his Maker, 'tis very well worth my While to write it, and to bear the Character of an impertinent Fellow from all the rest.
I thought to make some Apology for the Meanness of Stile, and the Method, which may be a little unusual, of Printing Letters from the Country in their own Stile.
For the last I only leave this short Reason with the Reader, the Desire I had to keep close to the Truth, and hand my Relation with the true Authorities from whence I receiv'd it; together with some Justice to the Gentlemen concern'd, who, especially in Cases of Deliverances, are willing to record the Testimonial of the Mercies they received, and to set their Hands to the humble Acknowledgement. The Plainness and Honesty of the Story will plead for the Meanness of the Stile in many of the Letters, and the Reader cannot want Eyes to see what sort of People some of them come from.
Others speak for themselves, and being writ by Men of Letters, as well as Men of Principles, I have not Arrogance enough to attempt a Correction either of the Sense or Stile; and if I had gone about it, should have injur'd both Author and Reader.
These come dressed in their own Words because I ought not, and those because I could not mend 'em. I am perswaded, they are all dress'd in the desirable, though unfashionable Garb of Truth, and I doubt not but Posterity will read them with Pleasure.
The Gentlemen, who have taken the Pains to collect and transmit the Particular Relations here made publick, I hope will have their End answered in this Essay, conveying hereby to the Ages to come the Memory of the dreadfulest and most universal Judgment that ever Almighty Power thought fit to bring upon this Part of the World.
And as this was the true Native and Original Design of the first Undertaking, abstracted from any Part of the Printer's Advantage, the Editor and Undertakers of this Work, having their Ends entirely answer'd, hereby give their humble Thanks to all those Gentlemen who have so far approv'd the Sincerity of their Design as to contribute their Trouble, and help forward by their just Observations, the otherwise very difficult Undertaking.
If Posterity will but make the desired Improvement both of the Collector's Pains, as well as the several Gentlemens Care in furnishing the Particulars, I dare say they will all acknowledge their End fully answer'd, and none more readily than
The Ages Humble Servant.THE STORM
CHAPTER I
Of the Natural Causes and Original of Winds
Though a System of Exhalation, Dilation, and Extension, things which the Ancients founded the Doctrine of Winds upon, be not my direct Business; yet it cannot but be needful to the present Design to Note, that the Difference in the Opinions of the Ancients, about the Nature and Original of Winds, is a Leading Step to one Assertion which I have advanc'd in all that I have said with Relation to Winds, viz. That there seems to be more of God in the whole Appearance, than in any other Part of Operating Nature.
Nor do I think I need explain my self very far in this Notion: I allow the high Original of Nature to be the Great Author of all her Actings, and by the strict Rein of his Providence, is the Continual and Exact Guide of her Executive Power; but still 'tis plain that in Some of the Principal Parts of Nature she is Naked to our Eye, Things appear both in their Causes and Consequences, Demonstration gives its Assistance, and finishes our further Enquiries: for we never enquire after God in those Works of Nature which depending upon the Course of Things are plain and demonstrative; but where we find Nature defective in her Discovery, where we see Effects but cannot reach their Causes; there 'tis most just, and Nature her self seems to direct us to it, to end the rational Enquiry, and resolve it into Speculation: Nature plainly refers us beyond her Self, to the Mighty Hand of Infinite Power, the Author of Nature, and Original of all Causes.
Among these Arcana of the Sovereign Oeconomy, the Winds are laid as far back as any. Those Ancient Men of Genius who rifled Nature by the Torch-Light of Reason even to her very Nudities, have been run a-ground in this unknown Channel; the Wind has blown out the Candle of Reason, and left them all in the Dark.
Aristotle, in his Problems, Sect. 23. calls the Wind Aeris Impulsum. Seneca says, Ventus est Aer Fluens. The Stoicks held it, Motum aut Fluxionem Aeris. Mr. Hobs, Air mov'd in a direct or undulating Motion. Fournier, Le Vent et un Movement Agitation de l'Air Causi par des Exhalations et Vapours. The Moderns, a Hot and Dry Exhalation repuls'd by Antiperistasis; Des Cartes defines it, Venti Nihil sunt nisi Moti & Dilati Vapores. And various other Opinions are very judiciously collected by the Learned Mr. Bohun in his Treatise of the Origin and Properties of Wind, P. 7. and concludes, 'That no one Hypothesis, how Comprehensive soever, has yet been able to resolve all the Incident Phenomena of Winds. Bohun of Winds, P. 9.
This is what I quote them for, and this is all my Argument demands; the deepest Search into the Region of Cause and Consequence, has found out just enough to leave the wisest Philosopher in the dark, to bewilder his Head, and drown his Understanding. You raise a Storm in Nature by the very Inquiry; and at last, to be rid of you, she confesses the Truth, and tells you, It is not in Me, you must go Home and ask my Father.
Whether then it be the Motion of Air, and what that Air is, which as yet is undefin'd, whether it is a Dilation, a previous Contraction, and then violent Extension as in Gun-Powder, whether the Motion is Direct, Circular, or Oblique, whether it be an Exhalation repuls'd by the Middle Region, and the Antiperistasis of that Part of the Heavens which is set as a Wall of Brass to bind up the Atmosphere, and keep it within its proper Compass for the Functions of Respiration, Condensing and Rarifying, without which Nature would be all in Confusion; whatever are their efficient Causes, 'tis not much to the immediate Design.
'Tis apparent, that God Almighty, whom the Philosophers care as little as possible to have any thing to do with, seems to have reserv'd this, as one of those Secrets in Nature which should more directly guide them to himself.
Not but that a Philosopher may be a Christian, and some of the best of the Latter have been the best of the Former, as Vossius, Mr. Boyle, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Verulam, Dr. Harvey, and others; and I wish I could say Mr. Hobbs, for 'twas Pity there should lie any just Exceptions to the Piety of a Man, who had so few to his General Knowledge, and an exalted Spirit in Philosophy.
When therefore I say the Philosophers do not care to concern God himself in the Search after Natural Knowledge; I mean, as it concerns Natural Knowledge, meerly as such; for 'tis a Natural Cause they seek, from a General Maxim, That all Nature has its Cause within it self: 'tis true, 'tis the Darkest Part of the Search, to trace the Chain backward; to begin at the Consequence, and from thence hunt Counter, as we may call it, to find out the Cause: 'twould be much easier if we could begin at the Cause, and trace it to all its Consequences.
I make no Question, the Search would be equally to the Advantage of Science, and the Improvement of the World; for without Doubt there are some Consequences of known Causes which are not yet discover'd, and I am as ready to believe there are yet in Nature some Terra Incognita both as to Cause and Consequence too.
In this Search after Causes, the Philosopher, tho' he may at the same Time be a very good Christian, cares not at all to meddle with his Maker: the Reason is plain; We may at any time resolve all things into Infinite Power, and we do allow that the Finger of Infinite is the First Mighty Cause of Nature her self: but the Treasury of Immediate Cause is generally committed to Nature; and if at any Time we are driven to look beyond her, 'tis because we are out of the way: 'tis not because it is not in her, but because we cannot find it.
Two Men met in the Middle of a great Wood; One was searching for a Plant which grew in the Wood, the Other had lost himself in the Wood, and wanted to get out: The Latter rejoyc'd when thro' the Trees he saw the open Country: but the Other Man's Business was not to get out, but to find what he look'd for: yet this Man no more undervalued the Pleasantness of the Champion Country than the other.
Thus in Nature the Philosopher's Business is not to look through Nature, and come to the vast open Field of Infinite Power; his Business is in the Wood; there grows the Plant he looks for; and 'tis there he must find it. Philosophy's a-ground if it is forc'd to any further Enquiry. The Christian begins just where the Philosopher ends; and when the Enquirer turns his Eyes up to Heaven, Farewel Philosopher; 'tis a Sign he can make nothing of it here.
David was a good Man, the Scripture gives him that Testimony; but I am of the Opinion, he was a better King than a Scholar, more a Saint than a Philosopher: and it seems very proper to judge that David was upon the Search of Natural Causes, and found himself puzzled as to the Enquiry, when he finishes the Enquiry with two pious Ejaculations, When I view the Heavens the Works of thy Hands, the Moon and the Stars which thou hast made; then I say, what is Man! David may very rationally be suppos'd to be searching the Causes, Motions, and Influences of Heavenly Bodies; and finding his Philosophy a-ground, and the Discovery not to answer his Search, he turns it all to a pious Use, recognizes Infinite Power, and applies it to the Exstasies and Raptures of his Soul, which were always employ'd in the Charm of exalted Praise.
Thus in another Place we find him dissecting the Womb of his Mother, and deep in the Study of Anatomy; but having, as it may be well supposed, no Help from Johan Remelini, or of the Learned Riolanus, and other Anatomists, famous for the most exquisite Discovery of human Body, and all the Vessels of Life, with their proper Dimensions and Use, all David could say to the Matter was, Good Man, to look up to Heaven, and admire what he could not understand, Psal. – I was fearfully and wonderfully made, &c.
This is very Good, and well becomes a Pulpit; but what's all this to a Philosopher? 'Tis not enough for him to know that God has made the Heavens, the Moon, and the Stars, but must inform himself where he has plac'd them, and why there; and what their Business, what their Influences, their Functions, and the End of their Being. 'Tis not enough for an Anatomist to know that he is fearfully and wonderfully made in the lowermost Part of the Earth, but he must see those lowermost Parts; search into the Method Nature proceeds upon in the performing the Office appointed, must search the Steps she takes, the Tools she works by; and in short, know all that the God of Nature has permitted to be capable of Demonstration.
And it seems a just Authority for our Search, that some things are so plac'd in Nature by a Chain of Causes and Effects, that upon a diligent Search we may find out what we look for: To search after what God has in his Sovereignty thought fit to conceal, may be criminal, and doubtless is so; and the Fruitlesness of the Enquiry is generally Part of the Punishment to a vain Curiosity: but to search after what our Maker has not hid, only cover'd with a thin Veil of Natural Obscurity, and which upon our Search is plain to be read, seems to be justified by the very Nature of the thing, and the Possibility of the Demonstration is an Argument to prove the Lawfulness of the Enquiry.
The Design of this Digression, is, in short, That as where Nature is plain to be search'd into, and Demonstration easy, the Philosopher is allow'd to seek for it; so where God has, as it were, laid his Hand upon any Place, and Nature presents us with an universal Blank, we are therein led as naturally to recognize the Infinite Wisdom and Power of the God of Nature, as David was in the Texts before quoted.
And this is the Case here; the Winds are some of those Inscrutables of Nature, in which humane Search has not yet been able to arrive at any Demonstration.
'The Winds,' says the Learned Mr. Bohun, 'are generated in the Intermediate Space between the Earth and the Clouds, either by Rarefaction or Repletion, and sometimes haply by pressure of Clouds, Elastical Virtue of the Air, &c. from the Earth or Seas, as by Submarine or Subterraneal Eruption or Descension or Resilition from the middle Region.'
All this, though no Man is more capable of the Enquiry than this Gentleman, yet to the Demonstration of the thing, amounts to no more than what we had before, and still leaves it as Abstruse and Cloudy to our Understanding as ever.
Not but that I think my self bound in Duty to Science in General, to pay a just Debt to the Excellency of Philosophical Study, in which I am a meer Junior, and hardly any more than an Admirer; and therefore I cannot but allow that the Demonstrations made of Rarefaction and Dilatation are extraordinary; and that by Fire and Water Wind may be rais'd in a close Room, as the Lord Verulam made Experiment in the Case of his Feathers.