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As I was walking to and fro in this enchanted Wilderness, I could not forbear breaking out into Soliloquies upon the several Wonders which lay before me, when, to my great Surprize, I found there were artificial Ecchoes in every Walk, that by Repetitions of certain Words which I spoke, agreed with me, or contradicted me, in every thing I said.
Nay what are words which do reveal the mind, Speak who or what they will they are but wind. Your drums your trumpets & your organs found, What is't but forced air which doth rebound, And such are ecchoes and report of th' gun That tells afar th' exploit which it hath done, Your songs and pleasant tunes they are the same, And so's the notes which Nightingales do frame.
And as pressing, rubbing, or striking the Eye, makes us fancy a light; and pressing the Eare, produceth a dinne; so do the bodies also we see, or hear, produce the same by their strong, though unobserved action, For if those Colours, and Sounds, were in the Bodies, or Objects that cause them, they could not bee severed from them, as by glasses, and in Ecchoes by reflection, wee see they are; where we know the thing we see, is in one place; the apparence, in another.
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