Jean Rey Quotes

[N]othing gains weight but by the addition of matter, nor loses it but by its subtraction—so inseparably are matter and weight united, as has been shewn above in the sixth essay.

I say much more; that fire, being of so subtile a nature, that it can hardly be called a body, is consequently almost stripped of all resistance; whence it follows, that the air, mounting up without impediment, would reach the skies, driving fire from its place, and compelling it to seek a lower station, to the injury of their own doctrine. To this I will add another inconvenience, namely, the perpetual and unprofitable strife, which would ensue between the heavy and the light elements, the latter pulling upwards, and the former downwards, with all their might; whence would arise, at the place of their contiguity, incomparably greater distress than the packthread experiences which is pulled in opposite directions by two strong hands, till at last it is broken by their efforts: far different from that knot of friendship, in which nature has been pleased to unite the neighbouring elements, planting in their bosoms similar qualities, whence they communicate and amicably sympathize with each other. It follows from all this, that levity is a term that signifies nothing absolute in nature, and must be rejected; or, if we retain it, it must only be to denote the relation of one substance having less weight to another which has more.

Hammer a piece of cold iron for a considerable time; you will unite its parts and diminish its bulk, and then it will appear heavier when put into the balance.

Neither can the loss of this heat render them heavy, for I have already proved that nothing increases in weight but by the addition of matter, or by diminution of volume; but here there is nothing of the kind; so that the disappearance of the heat cannot add any thing, and as to its bulk, it is visibly enlarged; the compact and solid substance of the lead being reduced (amenuisée) to so many small parcels, that their number is almost infinite.

Now casting a look on all that moves, I see nothing that ascends by its own proper motion. Water, indeed, rises in a glass, if we throw earth into it; but all will allow, that it is not from any levity that is in the water, but rather, that the earth, by falling to the bottom, makes the water ascend. Now, if water does not acknowledge levity as the cause of this motion upwards, why should air confess it, which ascends in like manner when pressed on by water? Why fire, which does the same? It will be said, I doubt not, that if the upward motion of the elements be not natural to them, it must be violent; whence this absurdity follows, that each obtains its place in the universe by force. To this I answer, that the elements not having the cause of these motions in themselves, they may, so far, be called violent; but that this violence is gentle, and nowise ruinous.

Thus, the motion of the orbits of the planets from east to west, having its cause in a higher heaven, is called by all violent, without, however, its doing them any injury. Moreover, they who argue thus condemn themselves, since they are compelled to admit, that not only the motion of water and air, but their very abiding places, are held by violence:—that of the latter, under fire, and that of the former, above earth.

I answer, and proudly maintain, "That this increase of weight comes from the air, thickened and made heavy, and in some measure rendered adhesive in the vessel by the violent and long—continued heat of the furnace—which air mixes with the calx (its union being assisted by the continual stirring), and attaches itself to its smallest particles—no otherwise than as water, when sand is thrown into it, makes it heavier by moistening it, and adhering to its smallest grains."

For this matter, every where filling the space closed in by the curvature of heaven, is continually pushed, by its own weight, towards the centre of the world. Earth, it is true, as the heaviest, readily occupies this situation, and forcing its fellow-elements to retire, causes water, the second in weight, to be also second in place; so that the air, driven from the lowest, as well as the second station, holds the third place, leaving the highest region to be occupied by fire, the lightest of all.

Plants too ought to become heavy by death, the celestial heat being expelled: but the contrary is evident to all. As to the increased weight of animals by death, the true cause, far remote from that which increases the weight of lead when calcined, is this: in the living animal its natural heat subtilizes, dilates, and augments the dimensions of the humours, the flesh, and every thing in it capable of dilatation—but losing this heat by death, the whole on this becoming cold, contracts and diminishes, whence the increase of weight, as I have often said already. What is there like this in lead?

Cardan is the first, who in his fifth book, De Subtilitate, says, that , by conversion into ceruse, or by , gains one-thirteenth part in weight, and gives this reason for it—The lead dies, for the celestial heart, which was its soul, vanishes; whose presence gives it life, and renders it light; as its absence occasions its death, and makes it heavy.

This he confirms by the example of animals, which become heavier after death, from the extinction of the celestial heat, the soul, (as he thinks), both of animals and all other mixed and compound bodies.

Almost all philosophers, ancient and modern, fearing an eternal confusion of the elements, were they all endowed with weight, conceived the two uppermost to be furnished with a certain levity, by means of which they bounded up on high, each to occupy its peculiar place, like as the two lower ones are pushed downwards by their own weight. But having clearly shewn in the last Essay, that levity is not necessary for that effect, weight alone being sufficient, I embrace the maxim, which they themselves have prudently laid down, that we should never multiply existences unnecessarily; assuming that God and Nature do nothing in vain, (which they also teach.) I think it would be otherwise were we to admit levity, since it is of no use.

On this account I have been obliged to shew, that air is possessed of weight; that it is proved by other investigation than that of the balance; and that even by that instrument, a portion previously altered and thickened, may make its weight manifest.

But if we investigate the subject by the balance, a case occurs in which, without any addition or subtraction of matter, a substance will appear more or less heavy; namely, by its contraction or expansion.

This opinion is defective, to say no worse of it, in many respects. First, in attributing life to lead. Secondly, in supposing that the presence of the celestial heat makes it light, and its absence heavy. Thirdly, because it assigns the same reason for the increased weight of lead by calcination, and of animals by death. There is nothing of the kind. For as to life, how can lead possess it, since it is a homogeneous body, without difference of parts, without organs, and without any vital effect or action? If it move downwards, so does ceruse, which is only its corpse; if it be cooling (rafraischit), so is ceruse. Then how could it preserve this life, under a million of forms, that it may be made to assume and to cast off, yet always continuing to be lead? How, in the furnace (which would be a much greater wonder), where it may be kept in fusion a day, a month, or a whole year? It must have a very tenacious soul to undergo so much without being dislodged!