h then with myself. And therefore without all
remorse lay batterie against mine own edifice: not sparing to shew how
weak that is, that my self now deems not impregnably strong. I have at
the latter end of the last Canto of =Psychathanasia=, not without
triumph concluded, that the world hath not continued =ab aeterno=, from
this ground:_

Extension
That's infinite implies a contradiction.

_And this is in answer to an objection against my last argument of the
souls Immortalitie, =viz.= divine goodnesse, which I there make the
measure of his providence. That ground limits the essence of the world
as well as its duration, and satisfies the curiositie of the Opposer, by
shewing the incompossibilitie in the Creature, not want of goodnesse in
the Creatour to have staid the framing of the Universe. But now roused
up by a new Philosophick furie, I answer that difficultie by taking away
the Hypothesis of either the world or time being finite: defending the
infinitude of both, which though I had done with a great deal of vigour
and life, and semblance of assent, it would have agreed well enough with
the free beat of Poesie, and might have passed for a pleasant flourish:
but the severitie of my own judgement, and sad Genius hath cast in many
correctives and coolers into the Canto it self; so that it cannot amount
to more then a discussion. And discussion is no prejudice but an honour
to the truth: for then and never but then is she Victorious. And what a
glorious Trophee shall the finite world erect when it hath vanquished
the Infinite; a Pygmee a Giant._

_For the better understanding of the connexion of this Appendix, with
the Poem of the souls Immortalitie; I have taken off the last stanza's
thereof, and added some few new ones to them for a more easie and
naturall leading to the present Canto. =Psychathan. lib. 3. Cant. 4.=_

_Stanz._ 33d.

But thou who ere thou art that thus dost strive
With fierce assault my groundwork to subvert,
And boldly dost into Gods secrets dive,
Base fear my manly face note make m' avert.
In that odde question which thou first didst stert,
I'll plainly prove thine incapacitie,
And force thy feeble feet back to revert,
That cannot climb so high a mysterie,
I'le shew thee strange perplexed inconsistencie.

34

Why was this world from all infinitie
Not made? say'st thou: why? could it be so made
Say I. For well