The sacred theory of the Earth, Volume 1 (of 2)

In Short

This work is a grand, speculative cosmology that attempts to harmonize physical science with biblical narrative. By proposing that the Earth began as a smooth, egg-like structure before a catastrophic Deluge shattered its surface, the author offers a rational explanation for the planet’s present, irregular topography. It is a foundational text of 17th-century natural philosophy, notable for its attempt to read the physical history of the world as a moral and geological sequence, blending rigorous geometric reasoning with theological reflection on the inevitable future destruction and renewal of the planet.

The Story

The narrative arc of the work begins in the chaos of creation, where the author envisions an early Earth not as it appears today, but as a perfectly smooth, spherical shell. This antediluvian world was a paradise of temperate seasons and uniform surface, lacking the jagged mountain ranges and vast, uneven ocean basins that characterize our current geography. In this state, the Earth was essentially a self-contained system with an abyss of waters held safely beneath its crust.

As the centuries passed, the relentless heat of the sun began to parch this exterior shell, creating fissures and cracks that grew deeper over time. Eventually, the structural integrity of the globe failed. At the appointed hour of the Deluge, the "fountains of the great deep" were broken open. The crust collapsed into the internal abyss, causing a massive, chaotic inundation that covered the entire planet. This event did not merely flood the world; it rearranged its very foundations, tilting the land and heaving up the mountains from the subterranean depths. What we perceive today as natural beauty—the rugged coasts, the towering peaks, and the deep valleys—is, in the author's view, nothing more than the wreckage of that original, perfect form.

The narrative continues by linking this physical upheaval to the longevity of the earliest humans. The author suggests that the pristine climate of the pre-flood world allowed for significantly longer life spans, which began to wane only as the Earth’s environment shifted toward the harsher, more volatile conditions of the post-deluvian world. This decline is presented as a gradual degeneration, akin to a delicate plant moved from a fertile garden to a barren, hostile soil.

Moving beyond the past, the work looks forward to the ultimate destiny of the planet. Just as the world was once destroyed by water, the author argues that the cycle of nature demands a final purification by fire. This coming conflagration will melt the current, broken Earth, clearing away the ruins of the old world to make way for a "new heaven and a new earth." The goal of the entire project is to map this "great circle of time and fate," moving from the initial chaos of the mundane egg to the final regeneration of all things. The author concludes by positioning this history not as a mere scientific curiosity, but as a call to spiritual readiness, urging the reader to look past the transient, ruined state of our current home toward the coming restoration.

How It Unfolds

The Primordial Chaos The argument commences with the formation of the Earth from a fluid mass, where the laws of physics dictate that the surface must have been perfectly spherical. By contrasting this theoretical smoothness with the current, irregular state of the continents, the author establishes the necessity of a later, violent disruption.

The Failure of the Shell The analysis shifts to the mechanics of the Deluge, explaining how the sun’s heat and internal evaporation would inevitably crack the Earth's crust. This section connects the physical drying of the surface to the eventual structural collapse that released the subterranean abyss.

The Anatomy of a Ruin The author provides a detailed, often grim description of our current planet, characterizing the oceans and mountain ranges as "rubbish" and "fragments." He uses maps and observations of natural geography to insist that such disorder could only be the result of a singular, cataclysmic event.

The Future Restoration The final movement projects the theory forward to the "Burning of the World." Here, the author reconciles geological speculation with eschatology, arguing that the fire is a necessary agent to reset the Earth to its original, perfect form.

The People

The text is driven by the voice of the Author, a man of profound intellectual ambition who views himself as a rational interpreter of both Scripture and Nature. He is not a man of half-measures; he seeks to reconcile the "mute" evidence of rocks and seas with the "speaking" authority of ancient texts. His primary antagonists are those who would dismiss his theory as a mere hypothesis or who fail to see the "great hinge" upon which the Earth turns. He engages with figures like Mr. Warren and Mr. Keill, whose skeptical examinations of his work force him to refine his arguments and clarify his reliance on the "Stamina" of nature. He is a guide who is simultaneously a philosopher and a theologian, consistently asserting that while his physical calculations may be subject to revision, the moral and spiritual truth of his theory remains anchored in a higher necessity. The reader encounters a man who is deeply troubled by the "ruined" state of the modern world, yet remarkably optimistic about the prospect of its future renewal.

In Its Own Voice

"A Mountain of Water is a thing impossible in Nature, and where there are no Mountains there are no Valleys."

The author uses this observation of fluid dynamics to argue that the early, liquid Earth could not have possessed its current rugged, mountainous surface.

"He shutteth up Man, and there can be no opening: Behold, he withholdeth the Waters, and they dry up; also he sendeth them out and they overturn the Earth."

This scriptural passage serves as the author's primary evidence for the divine power behind the natural process of the Deluge.

"Our Earth is first divided into Sea and Land, without any Regularity in the Portions, either of the one or the other; in the Sea lie the Islands, scatter’d like Limbs torn from the rest of the Body."

The author describes the map of the world not as a balanced creation, but as a scene of violent, fractured devastation.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an inquiry into the relationship between entropy and divinity. The author asks why a world created by a perfect God appears so undeniably broken, concluding that our current planet is a "ruin" resulting from a necessary, divinely ordained catastrophe. The text explores the tension between the "mechanistic" view of nature—where everything moves by springs, ferments, and physical law—and the "providential" view, which insists that these laws serve a greater moral purpose. It is a work deeply concerned with the "true notion" of time, attempting to reconcile a short human history with the vast, ancient cycles of the Earth’s own life and death.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the intersection of intellectual history and creative cosmology will find this an engrossing, if dense, experience. It captures the spirit of the late 17th century, a time when the boundaries between "science" and "philosophy" were fluid, and writers felt empowered to explain the entire history of the planet within a single volume. You will feel the weight of the author's ambition; it is a text that does not merely inform but attempts to fundamentally shift how you perceive the landscape outside your window. Be prepared for the archaic prose, which requires a patient, rhythmic reading, and the occasional detour into complex arguments about "ferments" and "stamina." The work is not for those seeking modern geological consensus, but for those who value the audacity of a thinker attempting to read the face of the Earth as a divine document. What stays with you is the haunting image of the world as a "mundane egg"—a fragile, finite structure forever caught between its chaotic origins and its eventual, fiery renewal. It is a work of immense scope that treats the Earth not just as a place to live, but as a living, suffering, and ultimately destined entity.