This is enough: but that I may speak something my self in plain Termes, I say shee is a very salt, but extreme soft, and somewhat thin and fluid, not so hard, not so thick as

common extracted Salts, for shee is none of them, nor any kind of Salt whatsoever that man can make. Shee is a sperme that Nature her self drawes out of the Elements, without the help of Art: man may find it, where Nature leaves it, it is not of his office to make the sperme, nor to extract it, it is already made, and wants nothing but a Matrix, and heat convenient for Generation. Now should you consider with your selves where Nature leaves the seed, and yet many are so dull, they know not how to work, when they are told what they must doe. Wee see in Animal Generations, the sperme parts not from both the Parents, for it remaines with the Female, where it is perfected. In the great world though all the Elements contribute to the Composure of the sperme, yet the sperme parts not from all the Elements, but remaines with the Earth, or with the Water, though more immediatly with the one, than with the other. Let not your Thoughts feed now on the Phlegmatic, indigested Vomits of Aristotle, look on the green youthfull, and flowrie Bosome of the Earth; Consider what a vast Universall Receptacle this Element is. The Starrs and Planets over-look her, and though they may not descend hither themselves, they shed down their golden Locks, like so many Bracelets, and Tokens of their Love. The Sun is

perpetually busie, brings his Fire round about her, as if he would sublime something from her bosom, and rob her of some secret, inclosed Jewell. Is there any thing lost since the Creation? Would'st thou know his very bed, and his pillow? It is Earth. How many Cities dost thou think have perished by the Sword? how many by Earth-quakes? and how many by the Deluge? Thou doest perhaps desire to know where they are at this present: believe it they have one common Sepulcher, what was once their Mother, is now their Tombe; All things return to that place from whence they came, and that very place is Earth. If thou hast but leasure, run over the Alphabet of Nature, examine every Letter, I mean every particular Creature, in her Booke. What becomes of her Grasse, her Corne, her Herbs, her Flowers? True it is, both Man and beast doe use them, but this onely by the way, for they rest not till they come to Earth again. In this Element they had their first, and in this will they have their last station. Think (if other Vanities will give thee leave,) on all those Generations that went before thee, and anticipate all those that shall come after thee. Where are those Beauties, the Times past have produced, and what will become of those that shall appear in future Ages? They will all to the same 'Dust, they have

one Common house, and there is no Familie so numerous, as that of the Grave. Doe but look on the Dally sports of Nature, her Clouds and mists, the Scæne, and Pageantrie of the Aire, Even these Momentary Things retreat to the Closet of the Earth. If the Sun makes her drie, shee can drink as fast, what gets up in Cloudes, comes down in Water, the Earth swallows up all, and like that Philosophicall Dragon eats her own Tayle. The wise Poets saw this, and in their mysticall language call'd the Earth Saturne, telling us withall, shee did feed on her own Children. Verily there is more Truth in their stately Verse, than in Aristotle's dull Prose, for hee was a blinde beast, and Malice made him so. But to proceed a little further with you, I wish you to concoct what you reade, to dwell a little upon Earth, not to fly up presently, and admire the Meteors of your own Braines. The Earth you know in the Winter time is a dull, dark, dead Thing. a contemptible frozen phlegmatick Lump. But towards the Spring, and Fomentations of the Sun, what rare Pearles are there in this Dung-hill? what glorious Colours, and tinctures doth she discover? a pure eternall green overspreads her, and this attended with innumerable other Beauties; Roses red and white, golden Lilies, Azure Violets, the Bleeding Hyacinths, with their severall

coelestiall odours, and Spices. If you will be advised by me, Learn from whence the Earth hath these invisible Treasures. This Annuall Flora, which appears not without the Complements of the Sun. Behold I will tell you as plainly as I may. There are in the world two Extremes, Matter and Spirit: one of these I can assure you is earth. The Influences of the spirit animate and quicken the matter, and in the Material Extreme the seed of the spirit is to be found. In middle Natures, as Fire, Aire, and Water, this Seed stayes not, for they are but Dispenseros, or Media, which convey it from one extreme to the other, from the Spirit to the Matter, that is to the Earth. But stay my friend, this Intelligence hath somewhat stirr'd you. and now you come on so furiously, as if you would rifle the Cabinet. Give me leave to put you back. I mind not this Common, faeculent, impure Earth, that falls not within my Discourse, but as it makes for your Manuduction. That which I speak of is a Mysterie, it is Coelum Terrae, and Terra Coeli, not this dirt, and dust, but a most Secret, Coelestiall, Invisible Earth.