This absolute separation of Form and Matter, under their new names of Thought and Extension, once grasped, various principles of Cartesianism will follow from it by logical necessity. First comes the exclusion of final causes from philosophy, or rather from Nature. There was not, as with Epicurus, any anti-theological feeling concerned in their rejection. With Aristotle, against whom Descartes is always protesting, the final cause was not a mark of designing intelligence imposed on Matter from without; it was only a particular aspect of Form, the realisation of what Matter was always striving after by virtue of its inherent potentiality. When Form was conceived only as pure thought, there could be no question of such a process; the most highly organised bodies being only modes of figured extension. The revival of Atomism had, no doubt, a great deal to do with the preference for a mechanical interpretation of life. Aristotle had himself shown with masterly clearness the difference between his view of Nature and that taken by Democritus; thus indicating beforehand the direction in which an alternative to his own teaching might be sought; and Bacon had, in fact, already referred with approval to the example set by Democritus in dealing with teleological enquiries. ¡°Are there people as crazy as that? And going around, loose?¡± ¡°I remembered to return the controls to neutral when I had the ship flying just the way I wanted it to,¡± he mused. ¡°And I didn¡¯t over-control. Maybe¡ªmaybe it won¡¯t be long before Tommy will let me solo.¡± It wasn¡¯t! ¡°But maybe Sandy might get into trouble,¡± urged Larry. ¡°He¡¯d fight to stop Jeff, and that man is in a dangerous mood if he¡¯d do what he has done.¡± Si felt a new and keener solicitude than he had ever before experienced. Hitherto his only thoughts were as to his own safety and to do himself credit in the discharge of his duty. Now he felt a heavy responsibility for every man in the detachment. "Say, I can't see up to Jim Humphreys' big breast without twistin' my neck nearly off," murmured little Pete Skidmore. "Can't you make him scrooch a little? Jest see him swell up." Albin, ready to shriek with rage by now, felt a touch at his arm. One of the Alberts was standing near him, looking up. Its eye blinked: it spoke. "Why does the room move?" The voice was not actually unpleasant, but its single eye stared at Albin, making him uncomfortable. He told himself not to blow up. Calm. Calm. The days passed and the training went on, boring and repetitious as each man tried to hammer into the obdurate head of an Albert just enough about his own particular section of machinery so that he could run it capably and call for help in case of emergencies. And, though every man on Fruyling's World disliked every moment of the job, the job was necessary, and went on: though they, too, were slaves to a great master, none thought of rebelling. For the name of the master was necessity, and economic law, and from that rule there are no rebels. The days passed evenly and the work went slowly on. His eyes searched her face. People who met him only casually were generally left with the impression that he had black eyes, but as a matter of fact they were dark blue. A hidden power forced Naomi's eyes to meet them ... they were narrow and deep-set, with extraordinarily long lashes. She gazed into them for a moment without speaking. Then suddenly her own filled with an expression of hatred, and she ran out of the room. "Come in, and we'll have a talk. Father's out, and mother's upstairs." So they parted. The Squire soon arrived. Reuben had him shown into the parlour, and insisted on seeing him alone. "Do you know any thing of Holgrave's route?" HoME¶¯ÎïÃHŒÂ
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