rvellous art must necessarily be
either in the machine or in the artificer that framed it. Is it in
the animal himself? But how is it possible he should be so wise and
so infallible in some things? And if this art is not in him, it
must of necessity be in the Supreme Artificer that made that piece
of work, just as all the art of a watch is in the skill of the
watchmaker.

SECT. XXVII. Though Beasts commit some Mistakes, yet their
Instinct is, in many cases, Infallible.

Do not object to me that the instinct of beasts is in some things
defective, and liable to error. It is no wonder beasts are not
infallible in everything, but it is rather a wonder they are so in
many cases. If they were infallible in everything, they should be
endowed with a reason infinitely perfect; in short, they should be
deities. In the works of an infinite Power there can be but a
finite perfection, otherwise God should make creatures like or equal
to Himself, which is impossible. He therefore cannot place
perfection, nor consequently reason, in his works, without some
bounds and restrictions. But those bounds do not prove that the
work is void of order or reason. Because I mistake sometimes, it
does not follow that I have no reason at all, and that I do
everything by mere chance, but only that my reason is stinted and
imperfect. In like manner, because a beast is not by his instinct
infallible in everything, though he be so in many, it does not
follow that there is no manner of reason in that machine, but only
that such a machine has not a boundless reason. But, after all, it
is a constant truth that in the operations of that machine there is
a regular conduct, a marvellous art, and a skill which in many cases
amounts to infallibility. Now, to whom shall we ascribe this
infallible skill? To the work, or its Artificer?

SECT. XXVIII. It is impossible Beasts should have Souls.

If you affirm that beasts have souls different from their machines,
I immediately ask you, "Of what nature are those souls entirely
different from and united to bodies? Who is it that knew how to
unite them to natures so vastly different? Who is it that has such
absolute command over so opposite natures, as to put and keep them
in such a regular and constant a society, and wherein mutual
agreement and correspondence are so necessary and so quick?

If, on the contrary, you suppose that the same matter may sometimes
think, and sometimes not th