THere is a Story somewhere, of one that pretends to have been miraculously cured of Blindness (wherewith he was born) by St. Albane or other Saints, at the Town of St. Albans; and that the Duke of Glocester being there, to be satisfied of the Truth of the Miracle, asked the Man, What Colour is this? Who, by answering, It was Green, discovered himself, and was punished for a Counterfeit: for though by his Sight newly received he might distinguish between Green, and Red, and all other Colours, as well as any that should interrogate him, yet he could not possibly know at first Sight which of them was called Green, or Red, or by any other Name. By this we may understand, there be two Kinds of Knowledge, whereof the one is nothing else but Sense, or Knowledge original, as I have said in the Beginning of the second Chapter, and Remembrance of the same; the other is called Science or Knowledge of the Truth of Propositions, and how Things are called; and is derived from Understanding. Both of these Sorts are but Experience; The former being the Experience of the Effects of Things that work upon us from without; and the latter Experience Men have from the proper Use of Names in Language: and all Experience being, as I have said, but Remembrance, all Knowledge is Remembrance: and of the former, the Register we keep in Books, is called History; But the Registers of the latter are called the Sciences.