DISEASES of the SOUL: A DISCOURSE  
DIVINE, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL.  
BY Tho. Adam's.  SEN. 
Desinit esse remedio locus, ubi quae fuerunt Vitia, Mores sunt.  
LONDON, Printed by George Purslowe for john Budge, and are to be sold at the great South-door of Paul's, and at Britain's Burse.  
1616.   

TO THE TRULY judicious, and worthily eminent in his Profession, Mr. WILLIAM RANDOLPH, Doctor of Physic.  
Worthy Sir,  
IT will seem strange to those, that better know my unworthiness then your merits, that I should administer Physic to a Physician. But my Apology is just; convincing rather them of ignorance, than myself of presumption. It is not a Potion, I send, but a Prescript in paper; which the foolish Patient did eat up, when he read in it written, Take this. Neither do I send it, to direct you, but that you should rectify it. So the poor Painter sent Appelles a Picture, to mend it, not to commend it. That which tastes of Philosophy in it, is but so much of those axioms and rudiments, as I gathered in the University in a short time, and have had much opportunity to lose since. Somewhat is chimed out of experience; wherein I may say, Necessit as was ingenii largitor: as Pliny writes of the Raven; who labouring of thirst, and spying a vessel with some little water in it, but so deep as she could not reach, filled the vessel with stones; till the heavier matter sinking downwards, raised up the lighter to her easy apprehension. My own ill health forced me to look into that poor Cistern of knowledge, which I had: and finding it almost dry, I assayed by some new contemplations, to raise it up to experience; which now, behold, runs over, and( without diminution to itself) is communicatively dispersed to others. Only do you use it, as I desire you should myself: if it be in health, conserve it: if foul purge it. For my own part, I am content, that no happy meditation of mine should be ut Curia Martis Athenis; or like some precious mystery, which a Practitioner will get money by, whiles he lives; but suffer none else to use, when he is dead: for he resolves, it shall die with him. It is more Moral, then Physical; and yet the greater part Theological. wherein I have most satisfied my own conscience, in aiming at that punctual Centre, and blessed Scope, whither all endeavours should look; the straitening our warped Affections, and directing the Soul to heaven. And in this passage,( you must pardon me) I fear not to say your memory at least, if not your understanding, may hereby be helped. My Medicines are not very bitter; but nothing at all sweet to a sensual palate: learning from Saluian; that Quae petulantium auribus placent, aegrotantium animis non prosunt. For my soul, I prescribe to others that, which I desire ever to take myself; such saving Recipes, as Gods holy Writ hath directed me. For my Body, though I would not have it lamed by my own neglect, that it might lean upon the staff of Physic; having not so much health to spare, as might allow some unthrifty expense of it on surfeits: yet when it is sick, I desire no other Physician than yourself. Perhaps a great number of men are of my mind, and frequent are the knocks at your Study-dore: but I am sure that all those desires are not inflamed with that light of knowledge, which I have of your sufficiency, through much private conference. Rudeness or prolixity do ill in an Epistle, and worse when both together; and may perhaps please a man's self, and none else. I have done, when I have( yet once again) challenged your promised judicial of urines: which if you make public, you shall have the like addition to my singular thanks. Till a good gale of opportunity waft myself over to your Sudbury, I have sent you this Messenger of that love and service, shall ever be ready to attend you; desiring that, as it hath found the way to you, you would give it your Pass to the World; and( if it grow poor with contempt) your Legacy of approbation. Wingrave in Buck. May ult.  
Your Worships in all just references of love, THO. adam's.   

TO THE READER.  
THE Title of this Book requires some Apology. There is a bookelately conceived in Scotland, and born in England, which both promiseth in the Frontispiece, and demonstrates in the Module, the method and matter here proposed. Whereof I cannot speak, having only cursorily perused some page or two of it, but not of the worthiness. Because that hath the priority of the time, and transcen. dencie in quantity of mine, I have reason to fear, that this will be thought but the spawn of that: or an Epitome: or at best, that it is begot out of imitation. Herein I must seriously propose, and engage my credit to the truth thereof: that this was committed to the Stationer's hands, perused and allowed by authority: yea, and with full time to have been printed, and perhaps an impression sold, before that of Master john Abrenethys came out. What dilemmas were in the Booksellers head, or what reasons for such slackness and reservation, are to me as mystical, as his profession. Neither do I plead thus out of any affected singularity, as if I were too good to imitate so worthy a man: but only to have punctually and plainly delivered the truth hereof: leaving it to thy censure, and us all to the grace of God.  
T. A.   

A General Table of all the particular Diseases, contained in this Book.  
Page  

THe Induction. 1  
The Method. 2  
Disease 1. Of Headache and Braine-sicknesse. 3  
Disease 2. Of Inconstancy, a kind of staggers. 7  
Disease 3. Of Madness and Anger. 12  
Disease 4. Of Envy, a consumption. 17  
Disease 5. Of Idleness, the Lethargy. 20  
Disease 6. Of the Dropsy and Covetousness. 23  
Disease 7. Of Usury, and Caninus appetitus, or the dogge-like appetite. 27  
Disease 8. Of Pride. 33  
Disease 9 Of the Palsy and timorous suspicion. 35  
Disease 10. Of Immoderate Thirst, and Ambition. 39  
Disease 11. Of inflammation of the reins, or lustfulness. 44  
Disease 12. Of the rotien Fever, or Hypocrisy. 48  
Disease 13. Of Flux and Prodigality. 52  
Disease 14. Of the jaundeys and Profaneness. 55  
Disease 15. Of Apoplexy and Security. 57  
Disease 16. Of windiness in the stomach, and vainglory. 60  
Disease 17. Of the Itch or the busy-body. 63  
Disease 18. Of stinking breath and flattery. 67  
Disease 19 Of short windiness and weariness of doing well. 70    

THE SOULS Sickness: A DISCOURSE DIvine, Moral, and Physical.  

The Induction.  
THE Sickness of this World is Epidemical, and hath with the invisible poison of a general pestilence infected it to the heart. For Vice in manners, as Heresy in doctrine, distilleth insensible contagion into the fountain of Life; and dum 
Bellar. in praes. Tom. 1. Controu.  unum interficit, centum alios inficit, in killing one, banes many. Whether ex daemonis iniuria, vel ex hominis incuria, from the devils malice, or man's secureness, Iniquity is grown from a mist to a Mystery, Ignorance to Arrogance, nescience to negligence, 
2. Thes. 2. 7.  simple imprudence to politic impudence, and I know not how, too much light hath made men blind. At first they knew not when they sinned, now they would know to justify their sins: they defend that, wherein they offend, and buy Sickness with as great expense of time, wit, money, as the anguished Atheist would health.  
Sicknesses in men's Souls are bred like diseases in natural, or corruptions in civil bodies; with so insensible a progress, that they are not discerned, till they be almost desperate: as the frantic endures not bonds, nor the Lethargical noise: or as it was once said of the Romans, that they could neither endure an ill Emperor, nor obey a good one: so we may say of ourselves( no less than Livy of that State) Nec vitia nostra, nec remedia 
Decad. lib. 1.  far possumus: we can better brook our maladies, than our remedies. There is, say Physicians, no perfect Health in this world; and man, when he is at best, enjoys but a neutrality. But the Physicians of the Soul complain further: That we are all as an unclean thing, 
Esay. 64. 6.  and all our righteousness are as filthy rags, etc. and in many 
james 3. 2.  things we sin all. We may say with the Prophet, not so much for our punishments, as our sins, The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot, even unto the head, there is no soundness in it; but wounds 
Esay 1. 5. 6.  and bruises and putrefying sores.   

The Method.  
TO pursue this Argument, I would willingly dispose the tenor of my speech into this method, 1. to describe the disease, 2. to ascribe the signs, 3. to prescribe the remedy. And whereas Physicians begin their medicinal institutions or instructions at the Head, as the most noble part of the body; the principal seat of the wits, the beginning of all the organical senses, and the proper house and habitation of the animal virtue;( though Philosophy attributes that supereminent dignity to the Heart) and I( for metaphors sake) without contention suffer myself to be led after their rule; behold, I apply to the Head first: which if I could cure, it would more easily discern the infirmities of the descending parts. In the Head and other corporal parts there are many diseases, which I will not contend to find out; desiring only to say( not all, but) enough. I will borrow so 
Non ego cuncta meis amplecti versibus opto.  much Timber out of Galens' wood, as shall serve me for a scaffold to build up my Moral discourse.   

Headache and Brain sickness. Disease. 1.  
Headache is divers, say Physicians, according to the causes; proceeding some of cold, some of hot; of dryness, of moisture, of blood, of choler, of phlegm, windiness, drunkenness, of an offending stomach. There is an Headache called the Migram, Hemicrania, possessing lightly one side of the Head, and distinguished by a seam that runs along in the skull. There is a disease in the Soul not unlike this, and they that labour of it, are called Brainsick men. They may have some pretty understanding in part of their heads, but the other part is strangely sick of crotchets, singularities, and toyish inventions; wherein because they frolic themselves, they think all the world fools that admire them not. They are ever troubling themselves with unnecessary thoughtfulness of long or short, white or black, round or square; confounding their wits with Geometrical dimensions, & studying of Measure out of measure. A square cap on another man's head, puts their head out of square, and they turn their brains into dry wool, with storming against a garment of linen. New Albutij to moot the reasons, why if a Cap fell down, it broke; if a Sponge, it broke not; why Eagles fly, and not Elephants. There be such students in the Schools of Rome; what shallbe done with an Ass, if he get into the Church to the Font uncovered, and drink the water of Baptism: upon the strange hazard of a Clarks negligence, and an Asses thirst entering the Church, which are uncertain, they make themselves Asses in certain. Or if a hungry Mouse filch the Body of our Lord, etc. Brave wits to invent Mousetraps. These curiosities in human, but much more in divine things, prove men brainsick.  

Cause.  
THe Cause of the Migram, is the ascending of many vaporous humours, hot or cold, by the veins or arteries. The Cause of this spiritual Migram, or braine-sicknesse, is the unkindly concurrence of ignorance, arrogance and affectation, like foggy mists and clouds, obscuring & smothering the true light of their sober judgements; and bearing their affections like a violent wind, upon one only point of the Compass, newfangled Opinion. Like the giants son, they must have six toes on a foot: they hate, not to be observed, and had rather be notorious, than not notable. Opinion, is a foot too much, which spoils the Verse. New Physic may be better then old, so may new Philosophy; our studies, observation, and experience perfecting theirs: beginning, not at the Gamoth, as they did, but as it were at the Ela: but hardly new Divinity; not that an ancient error should be brought out against a new truth. A new truth? nay, an old newly come to light: for Error cannot wage Antiquity with Truth. His desire is to be cross to regularity; and should he be enjoined a Hat, a Cap would extremely please him: were he confined to extemporal and enthusiastical labours, he would commend premeditation and study; which now he abhors, because they are put on him. He is unwise in being so bitter against Ceremonies: for therein he is palpably against himself, himself being nothing else but Ceremony. He loves not the beaten path; and because every fool( saith he) enters at the gate, he will climb over the wall, whiles the door of the Church stands open, he contends to 
john 10. 1.  creep through the window. The Brainsick are no less then drunk with Opinion; and that so strangely, that sleep which helps other drunkards, doth them no good. Their ambitious singularity is often so violent, that if it be not restrained, it grows to a kind of frenzy, and so the Migram turns into the Staggers. Herein, because we will not credit their Positions, nor receive their Crotchets in our set Music, they reel into the low-countries.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
Physicians say of the Migram-affected, that in the violent fit of the passion, they can abide: 1. No noise or loud speech: 2. Not clear light: 3. Not to drink Wine: 4. Nor almost to move at all, etc. Our Brainsick Novelist is described by such tokens.  
1. Loud speech he loves not, except from his own lips. All noise is tedious to him, but his own: and that is most tedious to the company. He loves to hear himself talk out of measure. He wonders, that the senses of all his hearers do not get up into their ears, to watch and catch his mysteries with attention and silence; when as yet himself is more Non-resident from his theme, than a discontinuer is from his charge.  
2. The clear light he cannot endure, for his brain is too light already. He presumes, that his head contains more knowledge than ten Bishops; and wonders that the Church was so overseen, as to forget him, when offices were disposing, or places a dealing; and because he can get none, rails at all for Antichristian. He is the only wise man, if he might teach all men to judge him, as he judgeth himself: and no star should shine in our Orb, without borrowing some of his light. He offers to reform that man, that would inform him; and presumes of so much light, that if himself were set, our world would be left without a Sun.  
3. Wine he hates, specially when it is powered into his wounds:( as the Fathers interpret the Samaritans wine to the wounded man, to cleanse and purge him.) Reproof and he are utter enemies; no man is good enough to chide him: wholesome counsel, which is indeed Wine to a weak soul, he accounts Vinegar; nothing so pleaseth him as his own Lees. Opinion hath brewed him ill, and he is like water scared out of the wits.  
4. He must not be moved, nor removed from what he holds: his will is like the Persian law, unalterable. You may move him to choler, not to knowledge: his brain is turned, like a Bell rung too deep, and cannot be fetched back again. His own affectation is his pulley, that can move him; no engine else stirs him. A man may like him at first, as one that never heard music doth the Tinker's note on his kettle; but after a while, they are both alike tedious. There is no help for his auditor, by by any excuses to shift him off; if he have not the patience to endure an impertinent discourse, he must venture the censure of his manners, and run away. His discourse is so full of parentheses, as if he were troubled with the rheum, and could not spette. He is ever tying hard knots, and untying them, as if no body had hired him, and therefore he must find himself work. If he light on the sacred Writ, he conceitedly allegorizes on the plainest subject, and makes the Scripture no more like itself, than Michols Image in the bed upon a pillow of goats hair, was like David. He carries bread at his back and feeds upon stones. Like a full fed Dog, he leaves the soft meat to lie gnawing upon bones: that we may say of him, this man hath a strong wit, as we say, that dog hath good teeth.   

Curation.  
THe way to cure the Migram is divers, according to the cause; either by cutting a vein, purging, revulsive or local remedies. But the sanation of this Brainsick malady is very difficult: insomuch, that Solomon saith, There is more hope of a fool, then of one wise in his own conceit. For he imagines the whole world to be sick, and himself only sound. I might prescribe him the opening of a vein which feeds this disease, that is, affectation: the itching blood of singularity let out, would much ease him. Or a good purge of humility to take him down a little, because he stands so high in his own imagination: and full vessels, to prevent their bursting must have timely vent. Or a little opium of sequestering him from business, and confining him that he might take some sleep; for his brains want rest. Or a little Euphorbium of sound admonition and fit reproof dropped into his ear warm. Some Euphrasia or eyebright would do well. Unctions, if lenifying, will do no good, nor any of the former, I doubt; except a strong pill of Discipline go with them. The speciallest remedy is Discipline, as the Father said, when he heard his son complain of his head; my head, my head, commanded a servant; Carry 
2. King 4. 19  him to his Mother: so for these men so troubled with the Headache, deliver them to their mother, let the Church censure them.    

Inconstancy, a kind of staggers. Disease. 2.  
THere is a Disease in the Soul called Inconstancy, not unfitly shadowed to us by a bodily infirmity, possessing the superior part of man, vertigo, a swimming in the head, a giddiness, or the Staggers. The disease in the body is described to be an astonishing and dusking of the eyes and spirits, that the Patient thinks all that he seeth to turn round, and is suddenly compassed with darkness. The parallel to it in the Soul, is Inconstancy, a motion without rule, a various aspect, a diversifying intention. The Inconstant man is like a Pour contrell; if he should change his apparel so fast as his thought, how often in a day would he shift himself? He would be a Proteus too, and vary kinds. The reflection of every news melts him, whereof he is as soon glutted. As he is a Noun, he is only adjective, depending on every novel persuasion: as a Verb, he knows only the Present Tense. To day he goes to the Key to be shipped for Rome, but before the Tide come, his tide is turned. One party think him theirs, the adverse theirs: he is with both, with neither, not an hour with himself. Because the Birds & Beasts be at controversy, he will be a bat, and get him both wings and teeth. He would come to heaven, but for his halting: two opinions( like two watermen) almost pull him apieces, when he resolves to put his judgement into a Boat, and go somewhither; presently he steps back, and goes with neither. It is a wonder, if his affections, being but a little lukewarm water, do not make his religion stomack-sicke. Indifferency is his ballast, and Opinion his sail: he resolves, not to resolve. He knows not what he should hold; he knows not what he doth hold. He opens his mind to receive motions, as one opens his palm to take a handful of water; he hath very much, if he could hold it. He is sure to die, but not what religion to die in; he demurs like a posed Lawyer, as if delay could remove some impediments. He is drunk when he riseth, and reels in a morning fasting. He knows not whether he should say his Pater noster in Latin, or English; and so leaves it and his prayers unsaided. He makes himself ready for an appointed feast; by the way he hears of a Sermon, he turns thitherward, yet betwixt the Church gate, and Church door, he thinks of business and retires home again. In a controverted point he holds with the last reasoner he either heard or read, the next diverts him; and his opinion dwells with him, perhaps so long as the teacher of it is in his sight. He will rather take dross for gold, then try it in the furnace. He receives many judgements, retains none, embracing so many faiths, that he is little better than an Infidel.  

Causes.  
THey give a double cause of this disease in the body; either the distemperature and evil affectedness of the brain; or an offence given to it from the mouth of the stomach: vapours, gross and tough humours, or windy exhalations, either lodging in the brain, or sent thither from the stomach, turning about the animal spirits: hence the brain staggers with giddiness. This spiritual Inconstancy ariseth from like causes. If it be in religion, it proceeds from cloudy imaginations, fancies, fictions, and forced dreams, which keep the mind from a sober and peaceful consideratenesse. Multitude of opinions, like foggy vapours, missed the intellectual faculty, and like reverberated blasts whirl about the spirits. He sees some Ceremonial divisions in our Church, and therefore dares not steadfastly embrace that truth, which both parts without contention teach and observe. So leaves the blessing of his mother, because he beholds his brethren quarreling: whiles he sees the unreconcilable opposition of Rome and us, which he fond labours to atone, he forsakes both, and will now be a Church alone. Thus his breast is full of secret combats, contradictions, affirmations, negatives, and whiles he refuseth to join with others, he is divided in himself: And yet will rather search excuses for his unstaidness, than ground for his rest. He loathes Manna after two days feeding, and is almost weary of the Sun for perpetual shining. If the Temple pavements be ever worn with his visitant feet, he will run far to a new Teacher: and rather than be bound to his own parish, he will turn Recusant. He will admire a new Preacher, till a quarter of the sand is out; but if the Church doors be not locked up, he cannot stay out the hour: what he promiseth to a Collection to day, he forgets, or at least denies the next morning. His best dwelling would be his confined chamber, where his irresolution might trouble nothing, but his pillow. In human matters, the cause of his variableness is not varied, but the object. He is transformable to all qualities, a tempered lump of wax to receive any form, yet no impression sticks long upon him. he holds it the quickness of his wit, to be voluble.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe signs of this disease in the body, are a mist and darkness, coming upon every light occasion. If he see a wheel turning round, or a whirlpool, or any such circular motion, he is affected with giddiness. The Symptoms of the Spiritual Staggers are semblable. He turns with those that turn, and is his neighbour's Chameleon. He hates staidness as an earthen dullness. He prosecutes a business without fear or wit; and rejecting the patience to consult, falls upon it with a peremptory heat: but like water once hot, is soon frozen, and instantly he must shift his time and his place; neither is he so weary of every place, as every place is weary of him. He affects an object with dotage, and as superstitiously courts, as an Idolater his guilded block: but it is a wonder, if his passionate love outlive the age of a wonder, 9 days. He respects in all things novelty above goodness; and the child of his own brains, within a week he is ready to judge a Bastard. He salutes his wits after some invented toy, as a serving-man kisseth his hand, when instantly on another plots arising, he kicks the former out of doors. He pulls down this day what he builded the other, now disliking the site, now the fashion, and sets men on work to his own undoing. He is in his own house, as his thoughts in his own brain, transient guests: like a Haggard, you know not where to take him. He hunts well for a gird, but is soon at a loss. If he gives any profession a winter's entertainment, yet he is whether for a penny the next Spring. He is full of business at Church, a stranger at home, a Sceptic abroad, an observer in the street, every where a fool. To conclude, their own unfaithfulness making the Inconstant thus sick, there is an accession of the Lords plague; he adds dotage as a punishment of wilful dotage. The Lord hath mingled a perverse spirit in the 
Esay 19 14.  midst thereof: and they have caused Egypt to err in every work thereof, as a drunken man staggereth in his vomit.   

Cure.  
FOr the curing of this bodily infirmity, many remedies are prescribed: odoriferous smells in weakness, the opening of a vein in better strength, cupping glasses applied to the hinder part of the head, with scarification, gargarisms and sternutatory things, together with setting the feet in hot baths, etc. To cure this Spiritual Staggers, let the Patient be purged with Repentance for his former unsettledness: let him take an ounce of Faith to firm his brains; let his repose be on the Scriptures, and thence fetch decision of all doubts; let a skilful Physician order him, a good Minister. Let him stop his ears to rumours, and fix his eyes on Heaven, to be kept from distracting objects. Let him keep the continual diet of Prayer, for the Spirit of illumination; and thus he may be recovered.    

Madness and Anger. Disease 3.  
THe next disease I would describe, is Frenzy or Madness. Now though Physicians do clearly distinguish betwixt these two, Frenzy and Madness; calling Frenzy an inflammation of the brain without a Fever; or an impostumation 
Galen.  bred and engendered in the pellicles of the brain, or pia matter: and Mania or Madness, an infection of the former cell of the head, without a Fever: the one abusing the imagination, the other ravishing the memory; I list not to dispute or determine. That which serves my intention, is to confer either of these passions, with a Spiritual disease of like nature, Anger. Irafuror brevis. It is a madness, I am sure, I am not sure how short. I do not ask for men passionlesse, this is hominem de homine tollere. Give them leave to be men, not mad men. Iraoptimo loco donum Dei: & magna est ars, irasciverbis praemeditatis, 
jerem.  & tempore opportuno. Anger in the best sense is the gift of God, and it is no small art, to express anger with premeditated terms, and on seasonable occasion. God placed Anger amongst the affections engraffed in nature, gave it a seat, fitted it with instruments, ministered it matter whence it might proceed, provided humours whereby it is nourished. It is to the Soul as a nerve to the body. The Philosopher calls it the Whetstone to fortitude, a spur intended to set forward Virtue. This is simply rather a propassion, than a passion.  
But there is a vicious, impetuous, frantic anger, earnest for private and personal grudges; not like a medicine to clear the eye, but to put it out. This pernicious disease of the Soul hath degrees. 1. It is inhuman; Tigers devour not Tigers, this rageth against kind and kindred. 2. Impious; it rageth often against God; as that Pope upon a field lost against the Frenchmen: Sic esto nunc Gallicus. So, turn French now, etc. 3. Mad; for it often rageth against unreasonable creatures, as Balaam striking his Ass; how much is such a man more irrational and bestial, than the Beast he maligns? 4. It is more than mad, striking at insensible things: as Xerxes wrote a defying letter to Athos a Thracian mountain. Mischievous Athos, lifted up to heaven, make thy quarries passable to my travel, or I will cut thee down, and cast thee into the sea. But his revenge was neither understood, feared, nor felt. So the Africans being infested with a North wind, that covered their corn fields with sand from a mountain, levied an army of men to fight with that wind; but were all buried under the sand. So Darius, because a River had drowned him a white Horse, vowed to cut it into so many Channels, that a woman with child might go over drie-shooed. We have some so madly impatient with a storm, wind etc. which might answer them, as Rabshaceh told the jews: Am I 
Esay 36, 10.  come hither without the Lord? it is he that sent me. This anger is immediately directed against God: the heart speaks Atheism, only in other words. 5. It is unnatural, for it 
Insanit: cum aliena nequit, sua pectora rodit.  maligneth a man's self. It is full of consternation and amazement, and never useth violence, without torment to itself. It thinks to offer wrong, and indeed suffers it.  
Ipsa sibi est hostis vesania, seque furendo-Interimit. As the frantic or drunkard do that, intoxicate, which sober, they would quake to think of; so these ireful, direful men( or rather beasts) dare in their fits play with Serpents, mingle poisons, act massacres, whereat their awaked souls shudder.  
The higher the person in whom this frenzy reigns, the 
Basil. In potestate nihil nisi potestatem respicere.  greater the fault. The Master-Bee hath no sting, the rest have: the greater power, the less passion. It is a Statetyrannie, in authority to mind nothing but authority. Posse & nolle, nobile. It is noble to may and will not. When a railing wretch followed a Heathen Prince with obloquys all day, and home to his doors at night, he requited him with commanding his servant to light him home to his house with a torch. Damascen makes three degrees of anger; Bilem, Iracundiam, Infensionem: Choler, Wrath, heavy Displeasure. Some have added a fourth.  
1. The first hath a beginning and motion, but presently ceaseth; we call this Choler. Like fire in stubble, soon kindled, and soon out. These are like gunpowder, to which you no sooner give fire, but they are in your face. They say, these hot men are the best natured; but I say then, the best are nought. These are stung with a nettle, and allayed with a dock.  
2. The second is not so soon conceived, but takes deeper hold in the memory. This fire is neither easily kindled, nor easily put out: like fire in Iron, which hardly taking, long abideth. These men are like green logs, which once set on combustion, continue burning day and night too.  
3 The third entertain this fire suddenly, and retain it perpetually, not desisting without revenge. These are like fire, which bewrayeth not itself without the ruin and waste of that matter wherein it hath caught: this worst.  
4 The fourth is a moderate Anger, not soon incensed, but quickly appeased: and this is the best, because likest to the disposition of God, who is merciful and gracious, 
Psal. 103. 8.  slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy, ready to forgive.  

Causes.  
Frenzy is caused by abundant blood, or choler occupying the brains or the films thereof: the more adust this choler is, the more pernicious the madness. The cause of anger, is the giving to Passion the dominion over Reason. Seneca says, Causa iracundiae opinio iniuriae est: the cause of anger is the conceit of injury. Such a man gets up on 
De ira lib. 1. cap. 22.  the wild jade his choler, and spurs him on, having no bridle of moderation to hold him back. His conversation is so full of choleric fits, as a book of tedious parentheses, that they mar the sense of his life. He is like an egg in roasting, hopeful to be good meat, but it grows too hot on a sudden, and flies in your face not without a great noise. Anger is able to turn Dametas into Hercules furens, teaching him that is strong to fight, him that is not 
Ira forti producit lacertes, imbelli linguam.  to talk: whilst the lightning of his rage lasts, he thunders out a challenge, but after a little calm meditation, sounds a retreat. He menaceth the throats of his enemies, though they be many, and swears loud he will be their Priest, he means Executioner. But if you compare his threatenings and his after-actions, you would say of them, as that wise man shearing his hogs: Here is a great deal of cry, but a little wool. His enemies are worse feared than hurt, if so they be in personal presence, as he is in sober judgement a little out of the way.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Frenzy is easily seen, and needs not to be described by signs. Physicians give many, I will say no more but this. If the madness proceed from blood, they are perpetually laughing; if of choler, they rage's so furiously, that bands only can restrain them from doing violence. The Symptoms of this spiritual madness, rash and furious anger, are many, visible and actual.  
1. Swelling of mind so high and so full, that there is no room for any good motion to dwell by it. Iratumor mentis, and makes a man like the Spider-poysoned toad. In this raging fit, Reason, Modesty, Peace, Humanity, etc. run from him, as servants from their mad master, or Mice from a Barn on fire. 2. Contumely without any distinguishing respect of friend, fone, alien, familiar, reviles any, fratremque, patremque. 3. Violence of hands, savage and monstrous behaviour: Like the troubled Sea, when it 
Esay. 57 20.  cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt: fuming and foaming, like a muddy channel: a distorted countenance, 
Sen. de. ira. Lib. 1. Cap. 1.  sparkling eye, foul language, hasty hands. If the angry man, and the drunkard had a glass presented them, how hardly could they be brought again to love their own faces!   

Cure.  
TO cure this Bedlam passion,( leaving the other to deeper judgements in that profession) both nature and Grace have given rules. Natural reason; that an angry man should not undertake any action or speech, till he had recited the Greek Alphabet; as a pause to cool the heat of choler. That angry men should sing to their passions, as Nurses to their Babes 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hast not, cry not. Maximum remedium est irae, mora. The best remedy for Anger is delay. What a man doth in anger, 
Sen. de ira. Lib. 1. Cap. 28.  he lightly reputes in cold blood.  
That we should keep our corrupt nature from provoking objects, as a man that hath Gunpowder in his house, keeps it safe from fire. That we should construe all things in the best sense: a good disposition makes a good exposition, where palpableness doth not evince the contrary. That suspicion is a pair of bellows to this mad fire. That jealousy and self-guiltiness are the angry man's Eavesdropper and Intelligencer. That the Earth suffers us living to plow furrows on her back, and dead, opens her bowels to receive us: a dead earth convincing a living earth's impatience. Scripture. That anger resteth in the bosom of fools. That the wrath of man doth not accomplish the righteousness of God. That unadvised anger is culpable of judgement. Let him take some herb of Grace, an ounce of Patience, as much of Consideration how often he gives God just cause to be angry with him; and no less of meditating how God hath a hand in Shimeys railing, that David may not be angry: mix all these together with faithful confidence, that God will dispose all wrongs to thy good; hereof be made a pill to purge choler. To conclude, let reason ever be our judge, though passion sometimes be our solicitor. 
Parit ira furorem;  
Turpia verba furor, verbis ex turpibus exit  
Ira, ex hac oritur vulnus de vulnere lethum.  
Wrath kindles fury, fury sparks foul words,  
Those let out wounds and death with flaming swords.     

Envy a consumption. Disease. 4.  
Envy fitly succeeds anger, for it is nothing else but inveterate wrath. The other was a frantic fit, and this is a consumption; a languishing disease in the body, the beginning of dissolution, a broaching of the vessel, not to be stopped till all the liquor of life is run out: what the other tabe is in the body, I list not to define, by reason that this spiritual sickness is a consumption of the flesh also, and a pining away of the spirits: now since they both have relation to the body, their comparison would be confusion. Envy is the consumption I singularly deal withal, which though I cannot cure, I will hopefully minister to.  

Cause.  
THe cause of Envy, is others prosperity; or rather an evil eye shot upon it. The angry man hath not himself, the envious must have no neighbour. He battens at the maligneds misery; and if such a man riseth, he falls as if he were Planet-struck. I know not whether he could endure to be in Paradise with a superior. He hates to be happy with any company. Envy sits in a man's eyes, and wheresoever through those windows it spies a blessing, it is sickness and death unto it. Inuidus petat a jove privari uno oculo, ut avarus quòd privetur ambobus. The envious man would have happily one of his eyes put out, as the covetous should lose both. A Physician being asked what was the best help to the perspicuity of the eyes, affirmed, Envy: for that like a perspective glass would make good things appear great things. 
Fertilior seges est alienis semper in agris;  
Uicinumque pecus grandius uber habet. 
ovid.    
He is even quarreling with God, that his neighbour's field bears better corn, and thinks himself poor, if a near dweller be richer. He will dispraise God's greatest blessings, if they fall beside himself: and grow sullen( so far as he dares) with the Prince, that shall promote a better deserver. There is no law perfect, if he was not at the making it. He undertakes a great work, and when he cannot accomplish it, he will give leave to none other. No man shall have that glory, which he aspired and miss. An Aesop's dog in the manger; because he can eat no hay himself, he will starve the horse. Poison is life to a Serpent, death to a man: and that which is life to a man, his humidity and spittle, they say is death to a Serpent: the rancorous sustenance which a malicious man lives of, is the misery and mischief to a good man; and a good man's prosperous felicity is the malicious man's death. God hath in justice appointed it to be a plague to itself. Among all mischiefs it is furnished with one profitable quality; the owner of it takes most hurt. Carpitque, & carpitur una: suppliciumque suum est.— ut Aetna seipsum,  
Sic se non alios, invidus igne coquit.  
The envious is a man of the worst diet, and like a strange Cook, shows himself; nay, and conceits pleasure in pining: so that his body, at last, hath just cause to sue his soul on an action of dilapidations. He finds fault with all things, that himself hath not done. He wakes, whiles his enemy takes rest. Parum est, si ipse sit foelix, nisi alter fuerit infoelix. His affections are like lightning, which commonly 
Feriunt summos fulgura montes.  scorch the highest places. He creeps like a Canker to the fairest flowers. By putting in a superfluous syllable, he hath corrupted one of the best words, turning amorem into amarorem, love into bitterness. A Philosopher seeing a malicious man dejected, asked him, whether some evil had happened to himself, or some good to his neighbour.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Signs of this disease are given by the Poet. 
— videt intus edentem  
Vipereas carnes, vitiorum alimenta suorum. 
Met. 2.   
Pallor in o'er sedet, macies in corpore toto;  
Nunquam recta acies; livent rubigine dentes:  
Pectora fell virent, lingua est suffusa veneno.   
A pale face without blood, and a lean body without any juice in it, squint eyes, black teeth, a heart full of gall, a tongue tipped with poison. amazedness makes the face pale, grief drinks up the blood, looking on men's prosperity makes the eyes squint, and cursing, the teeth black. It were well for him on earth, that he should dwell alone. It is pity he should come into heaven; for to see one star excel another in glory, would put him again out of his wits. I wonder, when he is in hell, whether he would not still desire superiority in anguish, & to sit in the chair, though he receive the more torments. The envious man is so cross to God, that he is sure of punishment: he hath in present one like to the nature of his offence. For his sin, whereas GOD brings good out of evil, he brings evil out of good. For his punishment, whereas even evil things work together to the good of the good, even good things work together to his evil. All the happiness lights on him that is envied; for it goes well with him, with whom the malicious thinks it goes too well.   

Cure.  
HIs Cure is hard, even as with a tabe in the body: too much Physic makes him worse. Crosses are fitly called God's physic; whereby if God will cure him, he must minister them to those he hates. Strange! that one man should be healed, by giving physic to another. Two simples may do him good, if he could be won to take them: a scruple of content, and a dram of charity. If these be given him,( well stirred) in a potion of repentant tears, he may be brought to wish himself well, and others no harm, and so be recovered.    

Idleness, the Lethargy. Disease 5.  
Idleness in the soul is a dangerous disease as the Lethargy in the body. The very name of Lethargy speaks the nature: for it is compounded of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 forgetfulness, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 slothful; and so consequently is defined to be a dull oblivion. The Idle man is a piece of base heavy earth, moulded with muddy and standing water. He lies in bed the former half of the day, devising excuses to prevent the afternoons labour. He cannot endure to do any thing by himself, that may be done by Attorney. He forestalls persuasion inducing him to any work, by forecasting the unprofitableness: he holds business man's cruelest enemy, and a monstrous devourer of time. His body is so swollen with lazy humours, that he moves like a tun upon two pottle pots. He is tempted to covetise, for no other reason, but to be able to keep servants; whom he will rather trust, then step out to oversee. Neither summer nor winter scape the blame of his laziness: in the one it is too hot, in the other too cold to work. Summer hath days too long, winter nights too cold; he must needs help the one with a nap at noon, the other with a good fire. He was very fit to be a Monk: spare him an early mass, and he will accept it: yet howsoever, he will rather venture the censure, then forsake a lazy calling.  

Cause.  
THe Cause of the Lethargy is abundant phlegm, overmuch cooling the brain, and thereby provoking sleep; which putrefied in the brain, causeth a fever. The cause of Idleness is indulgence to the flesh, a forgetfulness of the end of our creation, a wilful digression from man: for the lazy wretch is a dormouse in an human husk. To man motion is natural, the joints and eyes are made to move; and the mind is never asleep, as if it were set to watch the body: Sleep is the image of death, saith the Poet: and therefore the Church-sleeper is a dead corpse, set in his pew like a coffin, as if the Preacher were to make his funeral Sermon. He sings out harvest like the Grasshopper; therefore may at Christmas dance for and without his dinner. He riseth at noon to breakfast, which he falls to unwashed, and removes not out of his chair without a sleep. Whilst he sleeps, the enemy oversowes the field of his heart with tars. He is a patient subject for the devil to work on, a cushion for him to sit on, and take his ease: his misery is, that his damnation sleepeth not. His bed is his haven, his heaven, and sound sleep his deity. 
The standing water stinks with putrefaction: 
Du Bart.   
And virtue hath no virtue, but in action.   
If he be detained up late, he lies down in his clothes, to save two labours: nothing shall make him bustle up in the night, but the house fired about his ears; which escaping, he lies down in the yard, and lets it burn. He should gather moss, for he's no rolling stone. In this he is a good friend to his Country, he desires no innovation: he would scarce shift ground ten leagues, though from a cottage to a Manor. He is so loath to leave the taphouse in winter, that when all leave him, he makes bold with the chimney corner for his Parlour. If ever( in a ●●gne) he lights upon a humour to business, it is to game, to cheat, to drink drunk, to steal, etc. and falls from doing nought to do naughtily; so mending the matter, as you have heard in the fable, The devil mended his dame's leg; when he should have put it in joint, he broke it quite apieces.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
Symptoms of the Lethargy are a great pulse, beating seldom, as if it were full of water; a continual proneness to sleep, that they are scarcely compelled to answer a question. You may know a lethargical Idle man, by a neglected beard, unkembed hair, and unwashed face, foul linen, clothes unbrushed, a nasty hand smelling of the sheet, an eye opening when the ear receives your voice, and presently shut again; as if both the organs were stiff with excretions. He hath a blown cheek, a drawling tongue, a leaden foot, a brazen nose: he gapes and gaps so often, that sometimes he keeps his mouth open still, as if he had forgotten to shut it.   

Cure.  
TO cure the Lethargic, there are required many intentions; not without frictions, scarifications, sharp odours, and blood-letting, etc. To cure the Idle, it should more properly belong to Surgery then Physic; for there is no medicine like a good whip, to let out his lazy blood; and a good diet of daily labour, which some skilful beadle must see him take; put him into the bath at Bridewell, to take away the numbness of his joints, and scour off his rust, and so he may be recovered. 
Fac been, fac tua, fac aliquid, fac utile semper:  
Corrumpunt mores otia prava bonos.     

The Dropsy and Covetousness, Causes. Disease. 6.  
PHysicians say, that the Dropsy is an error in the digestive virtue in the liver, bred of the abundance of salt and waterish phlegm, with the over-feeding of raw and moist meats. It is distinguished into three sorts, Ascites, Tympanites, and Anasarca, or Hyposarca. Ascites is, when between the film called Peritonaeum( which is the Caule that covers the Entrails) much watery humour is gathered. Tympanites ariseth from windiness and flatuous causes gathered into the foresaid places. Hyposarca is, when the humours are so dispersed through the whole body, that all the flesh appears moist and spongy. Our spiritual Dropsy covetousness, is a disease bred in the soul, through defect of faith and understanding. It properly resides in the inferior powers of the soul, the affections; but ariseth from the errors of the superior intellectual faculty; neither conceiving aright of God's all-sufficient help, nor of the world's all-deficient weakness.  

Signs.  
THe corporal Dropsy is easily known by heaviness, swelling, puffing up, immoderate desire of drink, etc. The spiritual likewise( though it leans the carcase) lards the conscience; at least swells and puffs it up: and as if some hellish inflammation had scorched the affection, it thirsts for Aurum potabile without measure. The Covetous man is of Renodaeus his opinion, that argentum plurimum valet ad cordis palpitationem, silver is good against the heart-panting. The Wise man calls it a disease, an- evil disease, and almost 
Eccles. 6. 2.  incurable. The Covetous hath drunk the blood of oppression, wrong from the veins of the poor: and behold, like an undigestible receipt, it wambles in hisstomack; he shall not feel quietness in his belly. This is an epidemial sickness. 
Aurum omnes, victa iam pietate, colunt.  
Religion gives riches, and riches forgets religion.  
Religio dat opes, paupertas Religionem:  
Divitiae veniunt, Religioque fugit.   
Thus do our affection's wheel about with an unconstant motion. poverty makes us Religious, Religion rich, and riches irreligious. For as, Pauperis est rogare, so it should be Divitis erogare. Seneca wittily and truly, Habes pecuniam? vel teipsum vel pecuniam habeas vilem necesse est. Hast thou money? either thou must esteem thy money vile, or be vile thyself. The Covetous man is like a two-legd Hog: whiles he lives, he is ever rooting in the earth, and never doth good, till he is dead; like a vermin, of no use till uncased. Himself is a Monster, his life a riddle: his face( and his heart) is prone to the ground; his delight is to vex himself. It is a question whether he takes more care to get damnation, or to keep 
Curans quasi corurens. avarus quasi avidus aeris.  it; and so is either a Laban or a Nabal, two infamous churls in the old Testament, spelling one another's name backward. He keeps his god under lock and key, and sometimes for the better safety, in his unclean vault. He is very eloquently powerful amongst his poor neighbours; who for awful fear listen to Pluto, as if he were Plato. He prevails very far when he deals with some officers; as a Pharisee with Christ's Steward, Tantum dabo, tantus valor in quatuor syllabis: so powerful are two words. He prevails like a sorcerer, except he light upon a Peter: Thou and thy money be damned together. His heart is like the East Indian ground, 
Acts 8.  where all the mines be so barren, that it bears neither grass, herb, plant, nor tree. The lightness of his purse gives him a heavy heart, which yet filled, doth fill him with more cares. His medicine is his malady: he would quench his avarice with money, and this inflames it, as oil feeds the lamp, and some harish drinks increase thirst. His proctor in the law, and protector against the law, is his money. His Alchemy is excellent, he can project much silver, and waste none in smoke. His Rhetoric is how to keep him out of the Subsidy. His Logic is to prooveheaven in his chest. His Mathematics, Omnia suo commodo, non honestate mensurare, to measure the goodness of any thing by his own profit. His Arithmetic is in Addition and Multiplication, much in Substraction, nothing in Division. His Physic is to minister gold to his eye, though he starve his body. His Music is Sol, re, me, fa: Sola res me facit; that which makes me, makes me merry. Divinity he hath none: Idolatry enough to his money: Sculptura is his Scriptura, & he hath so many Gods as images of coin. He is an ill harvest man, for he is all at the rake, nothing at the pitchfork. The devil is a slave to God, the world to the devil, the covetous man to the world; he is a slave to the devils slave; so that his servant is like to have a good office. He foolishly buries his soul in his chest of silver, when his body must be buried in the mould of corruption. When the Fisher offers to catch him with the Net of the Gospel, he strikes into the mud of Avarice, and will not be taken. The Dropsy of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth Senectute iwenescere. Cicero calleth it 
1. Tim. 6. 10 De Senect.  an absurd thing, Quò minus viae restat, eò plus viatici quaerere. He sells his best grain, and feeds himself on mouldy crusts: he returns from plough, if he remember that his cupboard was left unlocked. If once in a Reign he invites his neighbours to dinner, he whiles the times with frivolous discourses, to hinder feeding; sets away the best dish, affirming it will be better cold: observes how much each guest eateth, and when they are risen and gone, falleth to himself, what for anger and hunger, with a sharp appetite. If he smells of Gentility, you shall have at the neither end of his board a great Pastry vncut up, for it is filled with bare bones; somewhat for show, but most to keep the neither mess from eating. He hath sworn to die in debt to his belly. He deducts from a servants wages the price of a halter, which he cut to save his master, when he had hung himself at the fall of the market. He lends nothing, nor returns borrowed, unless it be sent for; which if he cannot deny, he will delay in hope to have it forgotten. To excuse his base and sordid apparel, he commends the thriftiness of king Henry, how cheap his clothes were. His fist is like the Prentices earthen box, which receives all, but le's out nothing till it be broken. He is in more danger to be sand-blind, than a Goldsmith. Therefore some call him anidum, a non videndo. He must rise in the night with a candle to see his corn, though he stumble in the 
So did a wretched corne-hoorder. Prodigus non habebit, sed avarus non habet.  straw and fire his barn. He hath a lease of his wits, during the continuance of his riches: if any crossestarts away them he is mad instantly. He would flay an Ass for his skin, and like Hermocrates dying, bequeath his own goods to himself. His case is worse than the prodigals: for the Prodigal shall have nothing hereafter, but the Covetous hath nothing in present.   

Cure.  
FOr his cure much might be prescribed; specially as they give in the corporal Dropsy, purge the humour that feeds it. When the Covetous hath gotten much, and yet thirsts, a vomit of confiscation would do well, and set him to get more. It was a good moral instruction that fell from that shame of Philosophy Epicurus, the course to make a man rirh, is not to increase his wealth, but to restrain 
Si quem divitem efficere voles, non est quod opes augeas, sed tollas cupiditatem.  his covetous desires. The Apostles counsel is to fly it, and all occasions, occupations that may beget or nourish it. Remember, saith a schoolman , that though homo be de terra, & exterra, yet non ad terram, nec propter terram. Man is on the 
Eph. 5. Lomb. Polychron. lib. 5. cap. 10.  earth, of the earth, but not for the earth, etc. I have read of one john Patriarch of Alexandria, asparing and straithanded man, that being earnest at his prayers, there appeared to him a Virgin with a crown or garland of Olive leaves: he desiring to know her name, she called herself Mercy: requiring her intent, she requested him to marry her, promising him much prosperity on that condition. He did so, and found himself still the richer for his merciful deeds. She may offer herself long enough in these days ere she be taken. Mercy may live a maid, for no man will marry her. Valerius Maximus speaks of one Gilianus, a famous Roman, that besides hospitality to strangers, paid the taxes of many poor, rewarded deserts unsued to, bought out the servitude of captives, and sent them home free: how few such like can an English Historiographer write of? I would we had such a Gilianus amongst us, so it were not from Rome. Well then, let the Covetous remember his end, and the end of his riches, how certain, how uncertain they are! And intent his covertice to a better object. Quis alius noster est finis, quam pervenire ad regnum cuius nullus est 
Aug de civit. lib. 22. cap. 30.  finis? What else should be our end, save to come to the kingdom that hath no end! His cure is set down by God: I leave the receipt with him. They that will be rich, fall into 
1. Tim. 6. 9 10. 11. 17.  temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and noisome lusts, which drown men in perdition and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all evil, etc. But thou, O man of God, fly these things, and follow after righteousness, etc. Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not high minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, etc. but that they be rich in good works, etc. The place is powerful; let the Covetous read, observe, obey, repent, believe, and be saved.    

Usury, and Caninus appetitus, or the doglike appetite. Disease 7.  
NExt to the Dropsy of Covetice, I would place the immoderate hunger of Usury; for as the one drinks, so the other feeds to satisfy; and the former is not more thirsty after his cupping, than the latter is hungry after his devouring. Some have compared Usury to the Gout,( by reason of that diseases incidency to Usurers) which is an unnatural humour flowing to the extreme parts. It is either Arthritis, an articular disease, which we call a jointsickenesse: or Podagra, a pain invading the joint of the great toe, or the heel, or some inferior parts of the foot: this like a strong charm bindeth a man to his chair. Musculus says, that Divines shall reform Usury, when Physicians have cured the Gout: the sin and the disease are both incurable. And that will one day rack the conscience, as this the sinews. Herein the merely Covetous and the Usurer differ: the Covetous to be rich, would undergo any labour, the Usurer would be rich, yet undergo no labour; therefore like the gout-wrung, desires to sit stil. I have thought fitter to compare it with the doglike appetite; which cannot refrain from devouring meat without measure; which the stomach not able to bear, they fall to vomiting like Dogs: hence again hunger is excited to more meat, and much meat provokes spewing: so that their whole life is nothing else but a vicissitude of devouring and vomiting.  

Causes.  
IT is caused through cold distemper of the stomach, or through vicious and sharp humours, which gnaw and suck the mouth of it: or through unmeasurable dissipation of the whole body, which lightly follows the weakness of the retentive virtue. This animal hunger is raised partly from the coldness of the heart, for there is no charity to warm it; partly from corrupt affections, which like vicious humours gnaw and suck the conscience dry of all vividitie, whether of grace or humanity; partly through the weak retention of any good instruction, whether from the Scriptures of God, or writings of sobermen.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe corporal disease is easily perceived, by insatiate feeding, which yet ministers almost no virtue to the body, but it is rather made lean, and wasted therewith; the skin is rarefied, the body made fluid and apt to much egestion, etc. An Usurer is known by his very looks often, by his speeches commonly, by his actions ever. He hath a lean cheek, a meager body, as if he were fed at the devils allowance. His eyes are almost sunk to the backside of his head with admiration of money. His ears are set to tell the clock; his whole carcase a mere Anatomy. Some Usurers have fatter carcases, and can find in their hearts to lard their flesh, but a common meagerness is upon all their consciences. Foenus pecuniae, funus animae. Some spin Usury into such fine threads of distinction, that they take away all the names whereby it offends: and because R. is a dogged letter, and they conceive a toothless practice, Interest, Usury, and all terms with R. in them shall be put out: and the Usurer shall be called only, one that lives upon his monies. All his reaches are at riches: his wit works like a Mole, to dig 
Moral. par. 2.  himself through the earth into hell. Plutarch writes strangely of Hares, eodem tempore & parere, & alere, & alios concipere foetus; at one time to bring forth, nourish and to conceive. Your Usurer makes his money truly do all these 
Populus me si bulat at mih plaudo ipse domi. Hor.  at once. He drowns the noise of the people's curses, with the music of his money; as the Italians in a great thunder, ring their bells, and shoot off their Cannons, by an artificial noise of their own, to dead the natural of broken clouds. His practice mocks Philosophy, Quòdex nihilo nihil fit, and teaches of nothing to get something. He is a rank Whoremaster with his mistress Pecunia, and lives upon the lechery of metals. He doth that office for the Devil on earth, that his spirits do in hell, whip and torment poor souls. His blows are without fence; except men( as Strepsiades desired) could pluck the Moon out of the skies, his month and day will come.  
Nature hath set a pitch or term in all inferior things, when they shall cease to increase. Old cattle breed no longer; doted trees deny fruit: the tired earth becomes barren: only the Usurer's money, the longer it breeds, the lustier; and a hundred pounds put out twenty years since, is a great great Grandmother of two or three hundred children: pretty striplings, able to beget their mother again in a short time. 
Each man to heaven his hands for blessing rears;  
Only the Usurer needs not say his prayers.  
Blow the Wind East or West, plenty or dearth,  
Sickness or health, sit on the face of earth,  
He cares not: Time will bring his money in:  
Each day augments his treasure and his sin.  
Be the day red or black in Calendar,  
Common, or holy fits the Usurer.  
He starves his carcase; and true money's slave,  
Goes with full chests, and thin cheeks to his grave.   
He hath not his gold so fast, as his gold him. As the covetous takes away the difference betwixt the richest Mine and basest mould, use: so this pawne-groper spoils all with over-using it. It is his ill luck that the beams of wealth shine so full upon him: for riches like the sun fires and inflames objects that are opposed in a diameter, though further removed; but heateth kindly, when it shines upon a man latetally, though nearer. He shrinks up his guts with a starving diet, as with knot grass; and puts his stomach into his purse. He sells time to his customers, his food to his coffer, his body to languishment, his soul to the Devil.   

Cure.  
HIs Cure is very desperate: his best reprehension is deprehension: and the best purge is to purge him out of the land. Hiera picra Galeni is a sovereign confection to clarify him. Let him be fed, as Physicians prescribe in the cure of the corporal disease, with fat suppings: and let him drink abundantly, till he forget the date of his bonds. Turn him out from the chimny-corner into some wilderness, that he may have a cold and perspirable air. Give him a good vomit of Stibium, till he hath spewed up his extortions. Let his diet-drink be repentance, his daily exercise restoring to every man his got interest. Give him a little Opium, to rock his cares a sleep: and when he is cold, make him a good fire of his Bills and Bonds. Give him a julep of the Gospel, to beget in him the good blood of faith. If nothing work with him, let him make 
Psal. 15.  his will, and hear his sentence, that he shall never dwell with the blessed.    

Pride and the Pleurisy, Disease 8.  
THe Pleurisy is defined to be an inward inflammation of that upper skin, which girdeth the sides and the ribs: and therefore is called dolour lateralis. Pride is a pursy affection of the soul, Lege, modo, ratione carens: Without law, for it is rebellious: without measure, for it delights in extremes: without reason, for it doth all things with precipitation. The proud man is bitten of the mad dog, the flatterer, and hence runs on a garget.  

Causes.  
THe Pleurisy is caused of an abundance of hot blood flowing unnaturally to the foresaid place: or by the engendering of cold, gross, and viscous humours, gathered into the void place of the breast, or into the lungs. This spiritual disease ariseth from a blown opinion of ones self: which opinion is either from ignorance of his own emptiness; and so like a Tumbril full of nothing but air, makes a greater sound, than a vessel of precious liquor: or from arrogance of some good, which the owner knows too well. He never looks short of himself, but always beyond the mark, and offers to shoot further than he looks, but ever falls two bows short, humility and discretion.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Symptoms of the Pleurisy are difficult breathing, a continual Fever, a vehement pricking on the affected side. The proud man is known by his gate, which is peripatetical, strutting like a new Church warden. He thinks himself singularly wise, but his opinion is singular, and goes alone. In the company of good wits he fenceth in his ignorance with the hedge of silence, that observation may not climb over to see his follies. He would have his judgement for wearing his apparel pass unmended, not uncommended. He shifts his attire on some solemn day twice at least in twelve hours; but cannot shift himself out of the Mercer's books once in twelve months. His greatest envy is the next Gentleman's better clothes: which if he cannot better or equalize, he wears his own neglected. His apparel carries him to Church, without devotion, and he riseth up at the Creed to join with the rest in confession, not of his faith, but his pride: for sitting down hides much of his bravery. He feeds with no cheerful stomach, if he sit not at the upper end of the table, and be called young master, where he is content to rise hungry, so the observant company weary him with drinking to: on this condition he gives his obligation for the shot. He loves his lying glass beyond any true friend; and tells his credulous auditors, how many Gentlewomen have run mad for him: when if a base female servant should court him, I dare wager, he proves no Adonis. If he were to die on the block as Byron, he would give charge for the composition of his locks.   

Pride.  
PRide is of the feminine gender;( therefore the more intolerable in a masculine nature:) much Civet is unsavoury: Non bene olet, quae bene semper olet. She that breathes perfumes 
jerom.  artificially, gives herself to have naturally corrupted lungs. This woman hath neither her own complexion nor proportion: for she is both painted, and pointed together. She sits moderator every morning to a disputation betwixt the comb and the glass: and whether concludes best on her beauty, carries her love and praise. Howsoever, of men saith the Poet: Forma viros neglecta decet. Indeed 
Amor.  there is no graceful bahaviour like humility. This fault is well mended, when a man is well minded: that is, when he esteems of others better than himself. Otherwise a proud man is like the rising earth in montenous places: this swells up monte, as he mente: and the more either earth advanceth itself, perpetually they are the more barren. He lives at a high sail, that the puffy praises of his neighbours may blow him into the enchanted Island, vainglory. He shines like a Gloeworme in a dark village, but is a crude thing when he comes to the Court. If the plethorie swells him in the vein of valour, nothing but well-beating can hold him to a man. If ever he goes drunk into the field, and comes off with a victorious parley, he would swell to a son of Anak.   

Cure.  
THe Pleurisy is cured by drawing out some blood from the vein, that hath relation to the affected part. A Clyster is very good, together with some fomentations. It is helped much by cupping, I do not mean, drinking. God prescribes the cure of Pride, by precept and pattern. Precept. Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God: the reason is given; for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace 
1. Pet. 5. 6.  to the humble. pattern. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart; and you shall find rest unto 
Mat. 11. 29.  your souls. The Master is worth your hearing, the lesson your learning, the recompense your receiving. The cure hereof is hard, for all vices are against humility: nay, all virtues are against humility; as many are proud of their good deeds: nay, humility hath an opposition against humility, as if she were false to her own person. Saepe homo de vanae gloriae contemptu vanus gloriatur: so that often, humility by a prodigious and preposterous birth, brings forth pride. Pride doth make a wiseman a fool; continues him a fool, that is so; the opinion of his own wisdom excluding all opportune possibility of receiving knowledge. power precious juice into a vessel full of base liquor, and it runs beside. That instruction is split, which you offer to infuse into a soul so full of self affectation. Many a man had proved wise, if he had not so thought himself. If the air of his pride be enclosed in a base bubble, attire, it is the more vile: for the generation of his sin is produced from the corruption of himself. God made him a man, he hath made himself a beast; and now the Tailor( scarce a man himself) must make him a man again: a brave man, a better man than ever Nature left him. Thus he is like the Cinnamon tree, the bark is better than the body; or some Vermin, whose case is better than the carcase.  
For his cure, open his pleuriticke vein with the sacrificing knife of the Law; and tell him, that the cause of his pride is the effect of his sin. That wickedness brought shame to nakedness, and apparel hides it; whereof being proud, he glories in his own halter. Strip him of his gaudy clothes, and put him in a Charnel house, where he may read visible lectures of mortality and rottenness.    

Palsy and timorous suspicion. Disease 9  
THe former sick were Tumidi, these are Timidi: they were bold to all evil, these are fearful to all good. The palsy is a disease, wherein one half of the body is endamaged in both sense and moving. Of that disease which is called Paralysis, Resolution, or the dead palsy, wherein sometimes sense alone is lost, sometimes motion alone, and sometimes both together perish, I intent not to speak. It is( proportion considered) more dangerous to the body, than I would imagine this disease to be to the soul. I would compare it to that corporal infirmity, which Physicians call Tremorem, and some vulgarly the palsy; wherein there is a continual shaking of the extremer parts: somewhat adverse to the dead palsy: for that takes away motion, and this gives too much, though not so proper and kindly. This spiritual disease is a cowardly fearfulness, and a distrustful suspicion, both of actions and men. He dares not undertake, for fear of he knows not what: he dares not trust, for suspicion of his own reflection, dishonesty.  

Cause.  
THis evil in the body is caused generally through the weakness of the sinews, or of the cold temperature of nature, or accidentally of cold drink taken in Fevers. Old age and fear are not seldom causes of it. This spiritual palsy ariseth either from the weakness of zeal, and want of that kindly heat, to be affected to God's glory, or from consciousness of selfe-corruption, thereby measuring others. The first is Fearfulness, the second Distrustfulness.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Signs of the palsy are manifest; of this not very close and reserved. He conceives what is good to be done, but fancy's difficulties and dangers, like to knots in a bulrush, or rubs in a smooth way. He would bowl well at the mark of Integrity, if he durst venture it. He hath no journey to go, but either there are bugs, or he imagines them. Had he a pardon for his brother( being in danger of death) and a Hare should cross him in the way, he would no further, though his brother hanged for it. He owes God some good will, but he dares not show it: when a poor plaintiff calls him for a witness, he dares not reveal the truth, lest he offend the great adversary. He is a new Nicodemus, and would steal to heaven, if no body might see him. He makes a good motion bad by his fearfulness and doubting; and he calls his trembling by the name of conscience. He is like that Collier, that passing thorough Smithfield, and seeing some on the one side hanging, he demands the cause; answer was made, for denying the Supremacy to King Henry: on the other side some burning, he asks the cause; answered, for denying the real presence in the Sacrament: some, quoth he, hanged for Papistry, and some burned for protestancy? then hoyte on a God's name: I'll be ne'er neither. His Religion is primarily his Princes, subordinately his Landlords. Neither deliberates he more to take a new religion, to rise by it; then he fears to keep his old, lest he fall by it. All his care is for a ne noceat. He is a busy inquirer of all Parliament acts, and quakes as they are read, lest he be found guilty. He is sick, and afraid to die, yet holds the potion in a trembling hand, and quakes to drink his recovery. His thoughts are an ill balance, and will never be equally poised. He is a light vessel, and every great man's puff is ready to overturn him. Whiles CHRIST stands on the battlements of heaven, and beckons him thither by his word, his heart answers, I would fain be there, but that some troubles stand in my way. He would ill with Peter walk to him on the pavement of the Sea, or thrust out his hand with Moses, to take up a crawling Serpent, or hazard the loss of himself, to find his Saviour. His mind is ever in suspicion, in suspension, and dares not give a confident determination either way. Resolution, and his heart are utter enemies, and all his Philosophy is to be a Sceptic. Whether is worse, to do an evil action with resolution that it is good; or a good action with dubitation that it is evil, some body tell me. I am sure neither is well: for an evil deed is evil, whatsoever the agent think; and for the other, Whatsoever is not of Faith, is sin. Negatively, this rule is certain and infallible: It is good to forbear the doing of that, which we are not sure is lawful to be done. Affirmatively; the work being good, labour thy understanding so to think it.  
Fear rather than profit hath made him a flatterer; and you may read the statutes and his Landlords disposition in the characters of his countenance. A Soldier, a Husbandman, and a Merchant should be venturous. He would be God's Husbandman, and sow the seeds of obedience, but for observing the wind & weather of great men's frowns. He 
Eccles. 11. 4. Luke 11. 13.  would be God's factor, but that he fears to lose by his Talon, and therefore buries it. He would be God's soldier, but that the world and the devil are two such shrewd and sore enemies. He once began to prosecute a deed of charity, 
2. Tim. 2. 3.  and because the event crossed him, he makes it a rule to do no more good by.  
As he is fearful of himself, so distrustful of others, carrying his heart in his eyes, his eyes in his hands: as he in the Comedy, Oculatae mihi sunt manus, credunt quod vident: He knows nothing by himself but evil, and according to that rule measures others. He would fain be an Usurer, but that he dares not trust the Law with wax and paper. He swears damnably to the truth of that he affirms; as fearing otherwise not to be believed, because without that othing it, he will credit none himself. The bastardy of swearing lays on him the true fatherhood. He will trust neither man nor God without a pawn: not so much as his Tailor with the stuff to make his clothes: he must be a Broker, or no neighbour. He hath no faith; for he believes nothing, but what he knows; and knowledge nullifies belief. If others laugh, he imagines himself their ridiculous object: if there be any whispering, conscius ipse sibi, etc. it must be of him without question. If he goes to law, he is the advocates spirit, and haunts him worse than his own malus genius. He is his own Cater, his own Receiver, his own Secretary; and takes such pains, as if necessity forced him, because all servants he thinks thieves. He dares not trust his money above ground for fear of men; nor under ground for fear of rust. When he throws his censures at actions, his luck is still to go out: and so whiles he playeth with other men's credits, he cousins himself of his own. His opinion lights upon the worst sense still; as the Fly, that passeth the sound parts to fasten on a scab; or a Dorre, that ends his flight in a dunghill. Without a Subpaena these timorous cowherds dare not to London, for fear lest the city air should conspire to poison them: where they are ever crying, Lord, have mercy on us, when as Lord, have mercy on us is the special thing they feared. The ringing of bells tunes their hearts into melancholy; and the very sight of a corpse is almost enough to turn them into corpses. On the Thames they dare not come, because they have heard some there drowned: nor near the Parliament-house, because it was once in danger of blowing up. Home this Emblem of diffidence comes, and there lives with distrust of others, and dies in distrust of himself; only now finding death a certain thing to trust to.   

Cure.  
THe Cure of this bodily shaking is much at one with that of the Palsy; specially if it be caused of cold and gross humours. To help a man of this spiritual trembling, these intentions must be respected. First, to purge his heart by repentance, from those fowl and feculent corruptions, wherewith it is infected: and being clean himself, he will more charitably censure of others. Then teach him to lay the heaviest load on himself, and to spare others. True wisdom from above is without judging, 
jam. 3. 17.  without hypocrisy. The wisest men are the least censurers: they have so much a do to mend all at home, that their neighbours live quietly enough by them. Set him a good affection, and he will have a good construction. Minister to his soul a draft of charity, which will cleanse him of suspicion: for Charity thinks no evil. None? It thinks no 
1. Cor. 13. 5.  evil, unless it perceive it apparently. To credit all were silliness; to credit none, sullinnesse. Against his timorousness he hath an excellent receipt, set down by God himself. Fear not the fear of the wicked; but sanctify the Lord 
Esa. 8. 12. 13  of hosts himself: let him be your fear, let him be your dread. The way for him to fear nothing as he doth, is to fear one thing as he should. Awful reverence to God doth rather bolden, then terrify a man. They that trust in the Lord, shall be as mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth for ever. 
Psa. 125. 1.  They may be moved, they cannot be removed, from what is good, from what is their good, their god. This course may cure his paralyticke soul; only if it shall please God, to be his Physician.    

Immoderate Thirst, and Ambition. Disease. 10  
THere is a disease in the body called immoderate thirst; which is after much drinking desired and answered, a still sensible dryness. By this I would( I suppose not unfitly) express that spiritual disease, Ambition, a proud soul's thirst, when a draft of honour causeth a drought of honour; and like Tully's strange soil, much rain of promotion falling from his heaven the Court, makes him still as dry as dust. He is a most rank Churl, for he drinks often, and yet would have no man pledge him.  

Cause.  
THe disease is caused in the body, through abundant heat drying up moisture: and this is done by hot, choleric, or salt humours engendered in the stomach, or through Fevers burning or Ectic.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Signs of the disease are best discerned by the patient's words. The cause of Ambition is a strong opinion of honour; how well he could become a high place, or a high place him. It is a proud covetousness, a glorious and Court-madnes. The head of his reason caught a bruise on the right side, his understanding; and ever since he follows affection, as his principal guide. He professeth a new quality, called the art of climbing: wherein he teacheth others by pattern, not so much to aspire, as to break their necks. No stair pleaseth him, if there be a higher; and yet ascended to the top, he complains of lowness. He is not so soon laid in his bed of honour, but he dreams of a higher preferment, and would not sit on a seat, long enough to make it warm. His advancement gives him a fresh provocation; and he now treads on that with a disdainful foot, which erewhile he would have kissed to obtain. He climbs falling towers, and the hope to scale them, swallows all fear of toppling down. He is himself an Intelligencer to greatness, yet not without under-officers of the same rank. You shall see him narrow-eyed with watching, affable and open-brested like Absalon, full of insinuation so long as he is at the stair-foot: but when authority hath once spoken kindly to him, with Friend, sit up higher, he looks rougher than Hercules; so big, as if the river of his blood would not be banked within his veins. His tongue is flabellum Diaboli, and flagellum justi: bend to scourge some, flatter others, infect, infest all. Agrippina, Nero's mother, being told by an ginger, that her son should be Emperor, but to her sorrow: answered, Let my sorrow be what it will, so my son may get the Empire. He hath high desires, low deserts. As Tully for his Pindinessus, he spends much money about a little preferment; and with greater cost than the captain bought his Burgesship, he purchaseth incorporeal fame; which passeth away, as swift, as time doth follow motion; & whose weight is nothing but in her name, whereas a lower place well managed, leaves behind it a deathless memory. Like a great wind, he blows down all friends that stand in his way to rising. Policy is his post-horse, and he rides all upon the spur, till he come to None-such. His greatest plague is a Rival. 
Nec quemquam iam ferre potest Caesarue priorem,  
Pompeiusue parem. 
Iwen. Sat. 2.   
Tolluntur in altum, ut lapsu graviore ruant.   
He is a child in his gaudy desires, and great Titles are his rattles, which still his crying, till he see a new toy. He kisses his wits, as a Courtier his hand, when any wished fortune salutes him: and it tickles him, that he hath stolen to promotion without God's knowledge. Ambitio ambientium crux. Ambition is the rack, whereon he tortureth himself. The court is the sea, wherein he desires to fish: but the net of his wit and hope breaks, and there he drowns himself. An old courtier being asked what he did at Court, answered, I do nothing, but undo myself.   

Cure.  
FOr the bodily disease, caused of heat and dryness, Physicians prescribe Oxicratum, a drink, made of vinegar and water sodden together: a chief intention in them, is to procure sleep, etc. To cure the immoderate Thirst of Ambition, let him take from God this prescript: He that exalteth himself, shall be brought low: but he that humbleth himself, shall be exalted. That he, who sets himself down in the lower room, hears the masters of the feasts invitation, Friend, sit up higher. That a glorious Angel by ambition became a Devil; and a Lucifer of his sons, the king of Babylon, that said, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God, is brought down to hell, and to the sides of the 
Esa. 14. 14.  pit. That the first step to heavens Court, is humility. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. That 
Mat. 5. 3.  he, who walks on plain ground, is in little danger to fall; if he do fall, he riseth with small hurt: but he that climbs high, is in more danger of falling; and if he fall, of killing. That the great blasts of powerful envy overthrow Oakes and Cedars, that oppose their huge bodies; and pass through hollow Willows, or over little shrubs, that grow under the wall. That the higher state is the fairer mark for misfortune to shoot at: That which way soever the ambitious man looks, he finds matter of dejection. Above him, behold a God casting an ambitious Angel out of heaven, 
Luk. 1. 48.  an ambitious king from the society of men: but so respecting the lowliness of his handmaiden, that all generation call her blessed. Below him, behold the earth, the womb that he came from, and the tomb that must receive him. About him, behold, others transcending him in his best qualities. Within him, a mortal nature, that must die, though he were clad in gold; and perhaps an evil conscience stinging him, whose wounds are no more eased by promotion, than a broken bone is kept by a tissue-coate from aching. That there is a higher reckoning to be made of a higher place. That like city-houses, that on small foundations carry spacious roofs, his own toppe-heavy weight is ready to tumble him down. That he mounts up like a seeled Dove, and wanting eyes of discretion, he may easily light in a puddle. That he is but a stone tossed up into the air by fortune's sling, to receive the greater fall. That for want of other malignant engines, he begets on himself destruction. That Tiberius complained of fortune; that having set him up in so high a monarchy, she did not vouchsafe him a ladder to come down again. That the honours of this world have no satisfactory validity in them. The poor labourer would be a farmer: the farmer after two or three dear years aspires to a yeoman: the yeoman's son must be a Gentleman. The Gentleman's ambition flies justice-height. He is out of square with being a Squire, and shoots at knighthood. Once knighted, his dignity is nothing, except worth a noble title. Then, he thinks himself, whiles a mere Baron, a bare on: the world must count him a Count, or he is not satisfied. He is weary of his Earldom, if there be a Duke in the land. That granted, he thinks it base to be a subject: nothing now contents him but a crown. Crowned, he vilifies his own kingdom for narrow bounds, whiles he hath greater neighbours; he must be Caesared to an universal Monarch. Let it be granted, is he yet content? No, than the earth is a molehill, too narrow for his mind, and he is angry for lack of elbow-room. 
unus Pellaeo Iweni non sufficit orbis:  
Aestuat infoelix angusto limine mundi.  Last to be king of men is idle, he must Deified: and now Alexander conceits his immortality, and causeth Temples and Altars to be built to his name. And yet, being thus adored, is not pleased, because he cannot command heaven, and control nature. Rome rob the world, Sylla Rome, and yet again Sylla himself, not content till then, when advancement hath set him up as a Butt, he cannot be without the quiver of fears. Thus the largest draft of honour this world can give him, doth not quench, but inflame his ambitious thirst. Well, let repentant humiliation prick the bladder of his blown hopes, and let out the windy vapours of self-love. And now let him hunger and thirst after righteousness, and on my life he shall be satisfied. 
Mat. 5. 6.     

Inflammation of the reins, or lustfulness. Disease 7.  
AMong many diseases incident to the reins, as the Diabetes, ulcers, the stone there, and the emission of bloody urine, there is one called inflammation of the reins. To this not unfitly, by comparing the causes, Symptoms, and cure of either, I do liken Lust: the Scripture calls it by a general name, Uncleanness. Covetousness is commonly the disease of old age, Ambition of middle age, Lust of youth: if it extends further, it portends less help.  

Causes.  
THe Causes of the bodily disease are given to be. First, corrupt humours. Secondly, drinking of many medicines. Thirdly, vehement ridings. Consider these in our comparison, and tell me, if they sound not a similitude. There is corruptio perdita, whence comes eruptio pestifera. Provocatur libido, ubi deficit; revocatur, ubi desinit. Medicines are invented, not to qualify, but to calefie; as if they intended to keep alive their concupiscence, though they dead their conscience.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Signs are many. There is a beating pain about the first joint of the back, a little above the bastard ribs, etc. with others, which modesty bids cover with the cloak of silence. The Lustful man is a monster; as one that useth, 
Humano capiti ceruicem iungere equinam.   
He affects Popery for nothing else, but the patronage 
Hor.  of fornication, and frankness of Indulgence. He cities Harding frequently, that common Courteghians in hot countries, are a necessary evil: which he believes against God's express prohibition, in a hotter climate than Italy. There 
Deut. 23. 17  shall be no whore of the daughters of Israel: then certainly no whoremaster. He thinks it; if a sin, yet peccadillo, a little sin; and that the venereal faults are venial, at least venal. Thus he would be a Bawd to the sin, if not to the sinners. He is careless of his own name, of his own soul: injurious to his own minion, whom he corrupts: to his bastard, whom he brings up like himself. He increaseth mankind, not for love to the end, but to the means. His soul is wrapped in the truss of his senses; and a whore is the Communis terminus, where they all meet. He hath no command over his own affections, though over countries; as our modern Epigrammatist of Hercules. 
Owen Epigr.  
Lenam non potuit, potuit superare leaenam;  
Quem fera non valuit vincere, vicit hera.  His practice is, as it is said of some Tobacchonists, to dry up his purse, that he may dry up his blood, and the radical moisture. 
Nil nisi turpe juuat, curae est sua cuique voluptas; 
Amor. 1.   
Haec quoque ab alterius grata dolore venit.   
The delight of his wickedness is the indulgence of the present, for it endures but the doing. He never rests so contentedly, as on a forbidden bed. He is a felonious picklock of Virginities, and his language corrupts more innocent truth, than a bad Lawyers. He is an Almanac from eighteen to eight and twenty; if he escapes the fire so long. He can never call his hairs and his sins equal; for as his sins increase, his hairs fall. He buys admission of the Chambermaid with his first fruits. He lives like a Salamander in the flames of lust, and quencheth his heat with fire; and continues his days under Zona Torrida. He spends his forencone with Apothecaries; the afternoon of his days with Surgeons: the former beget his misery, the latter should cure it. Every rare female, like a wandering Planet, strikes him: hence he grows amazed. His eyes are the trapdoors to his heart; and his lascivious hopes suck poison from the fairest flower. He drowns himself in a woman's beauty, which is God's good creation, as a melancholy distracted man in a Crystal river. When conscience plucks him by the sleeve, and would now after much importunacy speak with him, he bids her meet him at fifty: he chargeth repentance attend him at master Doctors. When his life's sun is ready to set, he marries, and is then knocked with his own weapon: his own disablenesse, and his wives youthfulness, like bells ringing all in. Now his common theme is to brag of his young sins; and if you credit his discourse, it shall make him far worse than he was. At last, he is but kept above ground by the art of Chirurgery.   

Cure.  
FOr his cure, let him blood with the law of God: Thou shalt not commit adultery. That the righteous God trieth 
Psal. 7. 9  the heart and the reins: even the place, where his disease lieth. That 
Si Renum cupis incolumem servare salutem,  
Sirenum cantus effuge, sanus eris.   
That brevis est voluptas fornicationis, perpetua poena fornicatoris: 
Owen Epig.  the pleasure of the sin is short, the punishment of the 
jeron.  sinner eternal. That 
Nuda Uenus picta est, nudi pinguntur amores:  
Nam, quos nuda capit, nudos amittat oportet.   
That his desired cure, is his deserved poison. Age and sleep are his infalliblest Physicians. Disease is the mortifier of his sin, and cures it with an issue. That no black shield of the darkest night, no subtle art can hide or defend from God's impulsive sight. That, as a modern Poet of ours: 
joy graven in sense, like snow in water wastes.  
Without conserve of virtue nothing lasts.  That he walks the highway to the devil; and Winds down the blind stairs to hell. That as it is called a noble sin, it shall have a noble punishment. That he hath taken a voyage to the kingdom of darkness; and is now at his journeys end, when lust leaves him ere he discharge it. Let him observe S. Paul's medicine: Fly fornication: Every sin that a man doth, is without the body: but he that 
1. Cor. 6. 8.  committeth fornication sinneth against his own body. And This is the will of God, even your sanctification, and that ye 
1. Thes. 4. 3.  should abstain from fornication. Let him shun Opportunity as his Bawd, and Occasion as his Pander. Let him often drink that potion, that Augustine at his conversion. Let 
Confes. lib. 8. cap. 12. Rom. 13. 13.  us walk honestly as in the day time, not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, etc. But put ye on the Lord jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof. physicians prescribe, for the reins inflammation, cooling things, cataplasms, baths, etc. A special intention to cure this burning concupiscence, is to cool it with the tears of penitence. Weep for thy sins; and if the disease grow still strong upon thee, take the antidote God hath prescribed, Marriage. It is better to marry then to burn. Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed 
1. Cor. 7. Heb. 13. 4.  undefiled: but Whoremongers and Adulterers God will judge. Much exercise doth well to the cure of this Inflammation. When our affections refuse to sit on the nest of Lust, and to keep it warm, the brood of actual follies will not be hatched. How Aegistus( not without company) became an Adulterer, 
In promptu causa est, desidiosus erat. For.  
Otia si tollas, periere Cupidinis arcus.   
Cupid shoots in a slug, and still hits the sluggish. This intemperate fire is well abated by withdrawing the fuel. Delicates to excite Lust, are spurs to post a man to hell. It is fasting spittle, that must kill his tetter. Uncleanness is the bastard begot of Gluttony and Drunkenness. Sine Cerere & Baccho friget Venus. When the mouth is made a tunnel, and the belly a barrel, there is no contentment without a bed and a bedfellow.    

The rotten Fever, or Hypocrisy, Disease 12.  
AMongst almost innumerable kinds of Fevers; there is one called, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or febris putrida, the rotten Fever: which is a fever of one fit, continuing many days without any great mutation. Therefore it is called of some, continens febris, a stable and constant fever. Hereunto I have likened a rotten disease in the soul, called Hypocrisy; which is nothing else, but vice in virtues apparel.  

Cause.  
THis corporal disease is caused, when the humours do putrefy and rot equally within the vessels. It is not engendered in those that be lean and slender, or of a thin and rare state of body, or of a cold temper; but in those that be hot and abound with blood, fleshy, gross and thicke-bodied. Me thinks this malady smells very like Hypocrisy; which is a rotten heart, festered and putrefied with habituated sins, there with great delight and indulgence reserved: not incident to those that have a weak, thin, and slender opinion of themselves; that through humility have a lean and spare construction of their own deserts: no; nor to them that be of a cold temper and disposition to religion, not caring either to be good, or to seem so: but to those that have a gross and a blown conceit of themselves, swelling into an incomprehensible ostentation, and implacably hot in the persecution of that, they inwardly affect not.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
ROr the Signs of this putrid fever, they be not externally discerned; except you feel the pulse, which beats thick, quick, and vehement. The Hypocrite is exceedingly rotten at core, like a Sodom apple, though an ignorant passenger may take him for sound. He looks squint-eyed, aiming at two things at once, the satisfying his own lusts, and that the world may not be aware of it. Bonus videri non esse; malus esse non videri cupit. They would seem good, that they might be evil alone: not seem evil, lest they might not then be evil so much. Oues visu, Vulpes actu, actu: having much angel without, more devil within: a villainous Host dwelling at the sign of, Friend. 
Tuta frequensque via est, per amici fallere nomen.  
Tuta frequensque licet sit via, crimen habet,  
Which one thus wittily englisheth:  
A safe and common thing it is,  
through friendship to deceive.  
As safe and common as it is,  
'Tis knavery, by your leave.   
He is on Sunday like the Rubric, or Sunday-letter, zealously red; but all the week you may write his deeds in black. He fries in words, freezeth in works; speaks in else, doth good by inches. He is a rotten tunder shining in the night: an ignis fatuus, looking like a fixed star: a painted sepulchre, that conceals much rottenness: a crude Gloeworme shining in the dark: a stinking dunghill covered over with snow: a fellow of a bad course, and good discourse: a loose hung Mill, that keeps a great clacking, but grinds no grist: a lying hen, that cackles when she hath not laid. He is like some taphouse, that hath upon the painted walls written, Fear God, be sober, watch and pray, etc. when there is nothing but swearing and drunkenness in the house. His tongue is hot as if he had eaten pepper, which works coldly at the heart. He burns in the show of forward profession; but it is a poor fire of zeal, that will not make the pot of Charity seeth. He is in company holy and demure, but alone demurs of the matter; so shuts out the devil at the gate, and lets him in at the postern.  
His words are precise, his deeds concise; he prays so long in the Church, that he may with less suspicion prey on the Church: which he doth the more peremptorily, if his power be answerable. If his place will afford it, his grace will without question. He bears an earnest affection to the Temple, as a hungry man to his meat, only to devour it. They say, come, let us take to ourselves the houses of 
Psal. 83. 12.  God in possession. We pray for their conversion, but if there be no hope, we must use the next words of the Psalm: Oh my God, make them as a wheel: like the stubble before the wind. 
Verse 13.  They can abide no point of Popery, but only this, Church-robbing. Every thing the Papists used but this is superstition. Some are so charitable, that having got the tythe-corne from the Church, they reserve from the presented Incumbent their petty tithes also: like monstrous thieves, that having stole the whole piece, ask for the remnants. Nay, it is not enough, that they devour our Parsonages, but they also devour our persons, with their contumelious slanders. Advantage can make his religion play at fast and loose; for he only so long grows full of devotion, as he may grow full by devotion. His arguments are weak or strong, according to his cheer; and he discourses best after dinner. Self-conceit swells him, and popular applause bursts him. He never gives the law good words, but when it hath him upon the hip. Like a kind Hen, he rules and feeds his chickens fat, starves himself. He forceth formal preciseness, like a Porter to hold the door, whiles devils dance within. He gives God nothing but show, as if he would pay him his reckoning with chalk; which increaseth the debt. If ever his alms smell of bounty, he gives them in public. He that desires more to be seen of men then of God, commend me to his conscience by this token, he is an Hypocrite. He covers his ravenous extortions, and covetous oppressions, with the show of small beneficences; & so may for his charity go to the devil. Indeed, gentilem agit vitam sub nomine Christiano: He lives 
Hieron. ad Celant. Tom. 1 fol. 109.  Turk under the name of Christian. He is false in his friendship, heartless in his zeal, proud in his humility. He rails against interludes, yet is himself never off the stage, and condemns a mask, when his whole life is nothing else. He sends a beggar from his gate, bountifully feasted with Scripture sentences; and( though he likes them not) so much of the Statutes, as will serve to save his money. But if every house were of his profession, Charity's hand would no longer hold up poverties head. What his tongue spoke, his hands recant; and he weeps when he talks of his youth, not that it was wicked, but that it is not. His tongue is his dissimulations lackey, and runs continually on that errand: he is the Stranger's Saint, his neighbour's Sycophant, his own Politician: his whole life being nothing else, but a continual scribbling after the set Copy of Hypocrisy.   

Cure.  
FOr his cure, there is more difficulty then of the rotten fever. In this, two special intentions are used; blood-letting, and drinking of cool water, etc. But alas! what medicine should a man give to him, whom he knows not to be sick? His heart is rotten, his husk, fair and sightly. The core of his disease lies in his conscience; and like an onion, is covered with so many pills, that you would not suspect it: Their best Physic is that, God gives to Israel: Cleanse thy heart from iniquity, Oh jerusalem, that thou mayst 
jer. 4. 14.  be saved: how long shall thy vain thoughts remain within thee? If this serve not, let them read Christ's bill, his denunciation against them, so often menaced, Woe unto you, hypocrites. I would tell them, that simulata sanctitas, duplez iniquitas; and their life is so much the more abominable, as they have played the better part. But I refer them to the White-divell.    

Flux and Prodigality. Disease 13.  
THere be divers Fluxes according to Physicians: Lienteria, a smoothness of the bowels, suffering the meat to slide away not perfectly digested: Difenteria, which is an exulceration of the bowels;( whereof also they make four forts:) Tenasmus, which is a continual provocation to siege, that the patient can neither defer, nor eschew, yet vents nothing but slime. The Flux Diarrhea is the general, as being without exulceration or inflammation. To this I compare Prodigality, which is a continual running out.  

Cause.  
THe corporal disease is caused: First, either by debility of the instruments that serve to digestion. Secondly, or through abundance of nourishment, moist and viscous soon corrupted. Thirdly, or through weakness of the retentive faculty. The similitude holds well in the causes of Prodigality. There is first a weakness of his understanding & brain, to digest that which his friends left him. Secondly, abundance of goods hath made him wanton; and the most part being slimy and ill gotten, it wastes like Snow, faster than it was gathered. Thirdly, the debility of his retentive virtue is a special cause. For Prodigality is pictured with the eyes shut, and the hands open; lavishly throwing out, and blindly not looking where.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Symptoms of this disease are manifest. He is an out liar, and never keeps within the pale. He runs after liberality and beyond it. He is diametrially opposite to the Covetous; and the difference is in the transposing of one adverb. The one, that non rogatus: the other, non dat rogatus. One hand is his receiver, but like Briareus, he hath an hundred hands to lay out. He would bear Dissipatoris, non dispensatoris officium. His father went to the devil one way, and he will follow him another: and because hath chosen the smother way, he makes the more haste. Parasites are his Tenterhooks, and they stretch him till he bursts; and then leave him hanging in the rain. You may put his heart in your pocke; if you talk to him bareheaded, with many parentheses of your worship: there is no upstart buys his titles at a dearer rate. He loves a well furnished table; so he may have three Ps. to his guests: Parasites, Panders, and Players: the fourth he cannot abide, Preachers. He will be applauded for a while, though he want( almost) pity, when he wants. Like an hourglass turned up, he never leaves running, till all be out. He never looks to the bottom of his patrimony, till it be quite unravelled; and then( too late) complains that the stock of his wealth ran course at the fag-end. His father had too good an opinion of the world, & he too much disdains it. Herein he speeds, as he thinks, a little better; that those that barked at his Sire like dogs, fawn upon him, and lick his hand like Spaniels. He vies vanities with the Slothful, and it is hard to say, who wins the game; yet give him the bucklers: for Idlneesse is the coach to bring a man to Needome, Prodigality the post-horse. His father was no man's friend but his own; and he( saith the Proverb) is no man's foe else: of what age soever, he is under the years of discretion; and if Providence do not take him Ward, his heirs shall never be sought after. His vessel hath three leaks, a lascivious eye, a gaming hand, a deified belly; and to content these, he can neither rule his heart, nor his purse. When the shot comes to be paid, to draw in his company is a quarrel. When he feels want,( for till than he never sees it) he complains of Greatness for ingratitude, that he was not thought of when promotions were a dealing. When his last acre lies in his purse, he projects strange things, and builds houses in the air, having sold those on the ground he turns malcontent, and shifts that he never had, Religion. If he have not learned those tricks that undid him, Flattery and Cheating, he must needs press himself to the wars. He never before considered adposse, but advelle, and now he forgets velle, and looks only to posse. Take him at first putting forth into his sea of wealth and profuseness, and his fullness gives him 
Mant.  
— Languentis stomachum, quem nulla ciborum,  
Blandimenta movent, quem nulla invitat orexis:  His stomach so rasping since his last meal, that it grows too cowardly to fight with a chicken: then he calls for sport like sauce to excite appetite; and when all fails, thinks of sleep, lies down to find it, and misseth it. In the connivence of his security, harlots and sycophants rifle his estate, and then send him to rob the hogs of their provender, Ioues nuts, acorns. In short time he is dismounted from his coach, disquantitied of his train, distasted of his familiars, distressed of his riches, distracted of his wits; and never proves his own man, till he hath no other. At last, after his hovering flight, he drops to a centre, which is a room in the Alms house, that his father built.   

Cure.  
FOr his Cure;( I will not meddle with his estate, I know not how to cure that; but for his soul) let him first take a pill of Repentance: for howsoever he hath scoured his estate, he hath clogged his conscience, and it must be purged. Bind up his unruly hands, so lavish and letting fly. Pull off from his eyes that film of error, that he may distinguish his reproving friends from his flattering enemies. Cool his luxurious heat with Solomon's after-course, the banquet of his pleasures being done: that for all these things God will bring him to judgement. That beggary 
Eccl. 11 9 Luk. 15. 13.  is the heir apparent of riot, as the younger son in the Gospel( we have too many such younger brothers.) That his answer to those that admonish his frugality, is built upon a false ground: My goods are my own, as the Parasites said of their tongues: whereas he is not a Lord, but 
Psal. 12. 4. Luke 16. 2.  a Steward, and must one day reddere rationem dispensationis. The bill of his reckoning will be fearful. Item, for so many oaths. Item, for so many lies. Item, for drunkenness. Item, for lust, etc. Nay, and Item for causing so many Tavern Items, which were worse than Physic bills to his estate. To conclude, if Death find him as Bankrupt of spiritual, as of worldly goods, it will send him to an eternal prison.    

The jaundeis and Profaneness. Disease 14.  
ICterus or the jaundeis, is a spreading of yellow choler or melancholy all over the body. To this I compare Profaneness, which is an epidemial and universal spreading of wickedness throughout all powers of the soul.  

Cause.  
THe jaundeys is caused sometimes accidentally, when the blood is corrupted by some outward occasion with out a Fever; or through inflammation and change of the natural temperament of the liver; or through obstruction of the passages which go to the bowels, etc. The causes of Profaneness are an affected ignorance, a dead heart, a sensual disposition, an intoxicate reason, an habituated delight in sin, without sense, without science, without conscience.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Symptoms of both the jaundeys and Profaneness need no description: their external appearance discolouring, the one the skin, the other the life, save both Physicians much labour; if it be true, that the knowledge of the disease is half the cure. He hath sold himself to wickedness, for the price of a little vanity, like Ahab; or let a Lease, not to expire without his life. At first sight you would take him for a man; but he will presently make you change that opinion, for Circe's cup hath transformed him. His eyes are the casements, that stand continually open, for the admission of lusts to the unclean rest of his heart. His mouth is the devils trumpet, and sounds nothing but the music of hell. His hand is besmeared with aspersions of blood, lust, rapine, theft; as if all the infernal serpents had disgorged their poisons on it. He loves Satan extremely, and either swims to him in blood, or sails in a vessel of wine. His heaven is a Tavern, whence he never departs, till he hath cast up the reckoning. He is ready to swear, there is no God, though he swears perpetually by him. Religion is his footstool, and Policy his horse, Appetite his huntsman, Pleasure his game, and his dogs are his senses. He endeavours by the continuance of his sports, to make the motion of pleasure circular, and the flame of his delight round, as the Moon at full, and full as bright. The point of his heart is touched with the Loadstone of this world, and he is not quiet but toward the North, the scope of wickedness. He hath bowled his soul at the mark of sensuality, and runs to hell to overtake it. If the devil can maintain him a stock of thoughts, let him alone for execution; though to bastard his own children, and water on his father's grave. To conclude, he is but a specialty of hell antedated and strives to be damned before his time.   

Cure.  
HIs Physic, as in some jaundeis, must be strong of operation; for the dryness of the ones stomach, of the others conscience, doth enervate the force of medicines. The special intentions of his cure are strong purgations and blood-letting. If the law of God doth not purge out this corruption from his heart, let him blood by the law of man: manacle his hands, shackle his feet, dispute upon him with arguments of iron and steel: let him smart for his blasphemies, slanders, quarrels, whoredoms: and because he is no allowed Chirurgeon, restrain him from letting blood. Mussel the Wolf, let him have his chain and his clog, bind him to the good behaviour: and if these usual courses will not learn him continence, sobriety, peace, try what a Newgate and a grate will do. If nothing, let us lament his doom. Their end is damnation, whose 
Phil. 3. 19  God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things.    

Apoplexy and Security. Disease 15.  
THe Apoplexy is a disease, wherein the fountain & original of all the finewes being affected, every part of the body loseth both moving & sense; all voluntary functions hindered, as the wheels of a clock when the poised is down. To this I liken Security, which though it be not sudden to the soul, as the other is to the body; yet is almost as deadly. There may be some difference in the strength of opposition, or length of obsession; all similitudes run not like Coaches on four wheels: they agree in this, they both lie fast a sleep; the eyes of the ones body, of the others reason shut, and they are both wtihin two groans of death.  

Cause.  
THe cause of the Apoplexy is a phlegmatic humour, cold, gross, and tough, which abundantly fills the ventricles of the brain. The cause of Security, is a dusking and clouding of the understanding with the black humours, and dark mists of selfe-ignorance; a want of calling himself to a reckoning, till he be nonsuited.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Signs of the corporal are more palpable, then of the spiritual sickness. The parish of his affections is extremely out of order; because Reason his Ordinary doth not visit; nor Memory his Churchwarden present;( or if it at all, Omnia bene.) Neither doth Understanding the judge censure and determine. He keeps the chamber of his heart locked, that meditation enter not, and though it be sluttish with dust and cobwebs, will not suffer repentance to sweep it. He looseth the fruit of all crosses; and is so far from breaking his heart at a little affliction, that a sharp twitch stirs him not. Whereas a melting heart bleeds at the least blow, he feels not the sword drinking up his blood. Most men sleep nigh half their time, he is never awake: though the Sun shines, he lives in sempiternal night. His soul lies at ease, like the rich man's, and is loath to rise. Custom hath rocked him asleep in the cradle 
Luk. 12.  of his sins, and he sleeps without starting. His Security is like Popery, a thick curtain ever drawn to keep out the light. The Element he lives in, is mare mortuum. He is a foolish Governor, and with much clemency and indulgence nurseth rebellion; neither dare he chide his affections, though they conspire his death. He is the Antitype to the fabulous Legend of the seven Sleepers. Policy may use him as a block, cannot as an engine. He is not dangerous in a commonwealth; for if you let him alone, he troubles nobody.   

Cure.  
THe Cure of the Apoplexy is almost desperate. If there be any help, it is by opening both the Cephalica veins; and this course speeds the patient one way. Security, if it sleeps not to death, must be rung awake. There are five bells, that must ring this peal.  
First, Conscience is the Treble, and this troubles him a little: when this bell strikes, he drowns the noise of it with good fellowship. But it sounds so shrill, that at last it will be heard; especially if God pulls it.  
Secondly, Preaching is the Stint or the Certain to all the rest. This is Aaron's Bell, and it must be rung loud to wake him: for lightly he begins his nap with the Sermon, and when the parish is gone home, he is left in his seat fast asleep: yet this may at last stir him.  
Thirdly, another Bell in this ring, is the death of others round about him; whom he accompanies to the Church with a deader heart than the corpse; knows he is gone to judgement, yet provides not for his own accounts at that Audite. It may be, this spectacle and a mourning cloak may bring him to weep.  
Fourthly, the oppressed Poor is a Counter-tenor, and rings loud kneels of moans, groans, and supplications, either to him for his pity, or against him for his injury. If this bell, so heavily tolling, do not waken him, it will waken God against him. Their cry is come up into the ears of the 
jam. 5. 4.  Lord of Hostes.  
Fifthly, the Tenor or Bow-bell is the abused creatures; the rust of the gold, the stone out of the wall crying against the Oppressor: the corn, wine, oil, against the Epicure.  
Happily this peal may wake him. If not, there is yet another goad, affliction on himself, God cutting short his horns, that he may not gore his neighbours: and letting him blood in his riches, lest being too rank, he should grow into a surfeit: or casting him down on his bed of sickness, and there taking sleep from his body, because his soul hath had too much. If neither the Peal nor the Goad can waken him, God will shoot an Ordinance against him, Death. And if yet he dies sleeping, the Archangels Trump shall not fail to rouse him. Awake then, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee 
Ecl. 5. 14.  light.    

Windiness in the stomach, and vainglory. Disease 16.  
INstation in the stomach hath some correspondence with vainglory in the soul: a disease in either part of man full of ventosity, where all the humour riseth up into froth.  

Cause.  
Windiness is engendered through phlegmatic humours in the stomach; or through meats dissolved into vapours by deficiency of kindly heat. The cause of vainglory is a vaporous windy opinion of some rare quality in himself: which though it be but an atomus, he would blow( like an Alchemist) to a great mass. But at last, it either settles in a narrow room, or vanisheth into foam.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
Symptoms of the corporal disease are a swelling of the stomach, empty belchings, much rumbling of wind in the bowels, which offering to descend, is turned back again. You shall easily know a vainglorious man: his own commendation rumbles within him, till he hath bulked it out; & the air of it is unsavoury. In the field, he is touching heaven with a lance; in the street, his eye is still cast over his shoulder. He stands up so pertly, that you may know he is not laden with fruit. If you would drink of his wisdom, knock by a sober question at the barrel, and you shall find by the sound, his wits are empty. In all companies, like chaff he will be uppermost: he is some surfeit in nature's stomach, & cannot be kept down. A goodly Cypress tree, fertile only of leaves. He drinks to none beneath the salt; and it is his Grammar rule without exception, not to confer with an infetiour in public. His impudence will overrule his ignorance to talk of learned principles; which come from him, like a treble part in a base voice, too big for it. Living in some under-staire office, when he would visit the country, he borrows some Gallants cast suit of his servant, and therein( frantic) acts that part among his besotted neighbours. When he rides his master's great horse out of ken, he vaunts of him as his own, and brags how much he cost him. He feeds upon others courtesy, others meat: and( whether more?) either fat's him. At his Inn he calls for chiekens at spring, and such things as cannot be had; whereat angry, he sups according to his purse with a red Herring. far enough from knowledge, he talks of his castle,( which is either in the air, or enchanted) of his lands, which are some pastures in the Fairy-ground, invisible, no where. He offers to purchase Lordships, but wants money for earnest. He makes others praises as introductions to his own, which must transcend; and calls for wine, that he may make known his rare vessel of deal at home: not forgetting to you, that a Dutch Merchant sent it him, for some extraordinary desert. He is a wonder every where; among fools, for his bravery, among wisemen for his folly. He loves an Herald for a new Coat, and hires him to lie upon his Pedigree. All Nobility, that is ancient, is of his alliance; and the Great man is but of the first head, that doth not call him, Cousin. When his beams are weakest, like the rising and setting Sun, he makes the longest shadows: whereas bright knowledge, like the Sun at highest, makes none at all; though then most resultance of heat, and reflection of light. He takes great pains to make himself derisory; yet( without suspecting it) both his speech and silence cries, Behold me. He discommends earned worth with a shrug, and lisps his enforced approbation. He loves humility in all men, but himself, as if he did wish well to all souls but his own.  
There is no matter of consequence, that Policy begets, but he will be Gossip to, and give it a name, and knows the intention of all projects, before they be full hatched. He hath somewhat in him, which would be better for himself, and all men, if he could keep it in. In his hall, you shall see an old rusty sword hung up, which he swears killed Glendower in the hands of his Grandsire. He fathers upon himself some villainies, because they are in fashion; and so vilifies his credit, to advance it. If a new famous Courteghian be mentioned, he deeply knows her: whom indeed he never saw. He will be ignorant of nothing, though it be a shame to know it. His barrel hath a continual spigot, but no tunnel; and like an unthrift, he spends more than he gets. His speech of himself is ever historical, histrionical. He is indeed admirations creature, and a circumstantial Mountebank.   

Cure.  
FOr the cure of the corporal disease, you must give the Patient such medicines, as divide and purge phlegm; with an extenuating diet. To cure this windy humour of vainglory, S. Paul hath a sharp medicine: That his glory 
Phil. 3. 19  is in his shame. Prescribe him, that the free giving all glory to God, is the resultance of the best glory to man. The counsel of both Law and Gospel meets in this. Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, nor the strong in his strength, nor 
jer. 9 23. 1. Cor. 10 17.  the rich in his wealth; but let him that glorieth, glory in the Lord. That he hath nothing,( which is good) that he hath not received; and it is a shame for the Cistern not to acknowledge the Fountain. That the praise of good deserts is lost by want of humility. That there is none arrogant, but the ignorant: and that if he understood himself, his conceited sea is but a puddle, which every judicious observers plummet finds shallow, and muddy. That trafficking for the fraught of men's praises for his good worth, He suffers 
Chryshom. 24 ad pop. Ant.  shipwreck in the haven; and loseth his reward there, where he should receive it.    

The Itch, or the Busy-body. Disease 17.  
THe Itch is a scurvy disease; a man would not think the soul had any infirmity to sample it. You shall find the humour of a busy-body, a contentious intermeddler very like it. The Itch is a corrupt humour between the skin and the flesh, running with a serpedinous course, till it hath defiled the whole body. Thus caused.  

Cause.  
NAture being too strong for the evil humours in the body, packs them away to the utter parts, to preserve the inner. If the humours be more rare and subtle, they are avoided by fumosities and sweat: if thicker, they turn to a scabious matter in the skin: some make this the effect of an inflamed liver, etc.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
IF this Itching curiosity take him in the Cephalica vein, and possess the understanding part, l e moots more questions in an hour, than the seven Wise men could resolve in seven years. There is a kind of down or curdle on his wit, which is like a Gentle woman's train, more than needs. He would sing well, but that he is so full of Crotchets. His questions are like a plume of feathers, which fools will give any thing for, wisemen nothing. He hath a greater desire to know where Hell is, then to scape it: to know what God did before he made the world, than what he will do with him when it is ended. For want of correcting the garden of his inventions, the weeds choke the herbs; and he suffers the skin of his brain to boil into the broth. He is a dangerous Prognosticator, and propounds desperate riddles; which he gathers from the conjunction of Planets, Saturn and jupiter; from doubtful Oracles out of the hollow vaults and predictions of Merlin. He dreams of a cruel Dragon, whose head must be in England, and tail in Ireland; of a headless cross, of a popish curse. And Our Lord lights in our Lady's lap, and therefoee England must have a clap. But they have broken day with their Creditors, and the Planets have proved honester, than their reports gave them. Thus as Bion said of Astronomers, he sees not the fishes swimming by him in the water, yet sees perfectly those shining in the Zodiac. Thus if the Itch hold him in the theorical part. If in the practical;  
His actions are polypragmatical, his feet peripatetical. Erasmus pictures him to the life. He knows what every Merchant got in his voyage, what plots are at Rome, what stratagems 
Enchirid. mil. Chan.  with the Turk etc. He knows strangers troubles, not the tumultuous fightings in his own bosom, etc. His neighbour's estate he knows to a penny; and wherein he fails, he supplies by intelligence from their flattered servants: he would serve well for an Informer to the Subsidie-book. He delays every passenger with inquiry of news; and because the country cannot satiate him, he travels every term to London for it: whence returning without his full load, himself makes it up by the way. He buys letters from the great city with Capons; which he wears out in three days, with perpetual opening them to his companions. If he hears but a word of some State-act, he professeth to know it, & the intention, as if he had been of the Counsel. He hears a lie in private, and hastes to publish it; so one knave gulls him, he innumerable fools, with the strange Fish at Yarmouth, or the Serpent in Sussex. He can keep no secret in, without the hazard of his button. He loves no man a moment longer, then either he will tell him, or hears of him news. If the spirit of his tongue be once raised, all the company cannot conjure it down. He teaches his neighbour to work unsent for, and tells him of some dangers without thanks. He comments upon every action, and answers a question ere it be half propounded. Alcibiades 
Laert. mill drachm.  having purchased a dog at an unreasonable price, cut off his tail, and let him run about Athens; whiles every man wondered at his intent, he answered, that his intent was their wonder, for he did it only to be talked of. The same Author reports the like of a gawish traveler that came to Sparta, who standing in the presence of Lacon a long time upon one leg, that he might be observed & admired, cried at the last: Oh Lacon, thou canst not stand so long upon one leg. True, said Lacon, but every Goose can.  
His state, belike, is too little to find him work; hence he busieth himself in other men's common wealths: as if he were Towne-taster: he scalds his lips in every neighbour's pottage. If this Itch proceed from some inflammation, his bleach is the breaking out of contention. Then he hath humorem in cerebro, in cord tumorem, rumorem in lingua. His brain is full of humour, his heart of tumour, his tongue of rumour. He spits fire at every word, and doth what he can to set the whole world in combustion. He whispers in his neighbour's ear how such a man slandered him: and returns to the accused party( with like secrecy) the others invective. He is hated of all, as being indeed a friend to none, but Lawyers and the Devil.   

Cure.  
FOr his Cure; if his Itch proceed from a Moonsick head, the chief intention is to settle his brains; lest 
Act. 26. 24 Deut. 29. 29  too much learning make him mad: as Paul was wronged. Give him this Electuary. That secret things belong to the Lord, and revealed to us and our children for ever. That the judgements of God are, soepe secreta, semper justa: and therefore it is better mirari, quam rimari. That in seeking to know more than he ought, he knows not what he should. That gazing at the stars, he is like to fall into the lowest pit.  
If his Itch be in his fingers, and that he grows like a Meddler in every body's orchard, let him apply this unction. That he meddle with his own business. That he recall his prodigal eyes, like wandering Dinah's, home; and teach them another while to look inward. That he be busy in repairing his own heart; for of other meddling comes no rest.  
If his disease proceed from a greater inflation or inflammation, thus sharply scarify him: That sowing discord among brethren, is that seventh abomination to the Lord. That as 
Prou. 6. 19 Gen. 49. 7.  troublesome men seek faction, they shall meet with fraction; and as they have a brotherhood in evil, so they shall be 
Senee. de ira. lib. 2. cap. 3 4.  divided in jacob, and scattered in Israel. That cum pare contendere, anceps est; cum superiore, furiosum: cum inferiore, sordidum. If thy enemy be equal, yet the victory is doubtful. If low, parce illi, it is no credit to conquer him. If great, parce tibi, favour thyself, contend not. Serua parcem domi, pacem Domini. love peace, and the God of peace shall give thee the peace of God, which passeth all understanding.    

Stinking breath and Flattery. Disease 18.  
THe Flatterer hath a disease very odious, foetorem or is, a stinking breath. The corporal disease is caused, 1. sometimes through putrefaction of the gums. Secondly, sometimes through hot distemper of the mouth. Thirdly, sometimes through corrupt and rotten humours in the mouth of the stomach. Fourthly, and not seldom through the exulceration of the lungs. The main cause of Flattery is a kind of self-love; for he only commends others, to mend himself. The communis terminus, where all his frauds, dissimulations, false phrases and praises, his admirations, and superlative title meet, is his purse. His tongue serves two Masters his great-ones ear, his own avarice.  

Signs and Symptoms.  
IF the cause of this Stench be in the mouth, it is discerned: if in the vicious stomach, or ulcerate lungs, it is allayed by eating; and not so forcible after meats as before. So the Flatterers stomach is well laid after dinner; and till he grow hungry again, his adulatory pipes go not so hotly. His means come by observance, and though he wait not at table, he serves for a fool. He is after the nature of a Barber; and first trimmes the head of his master's humour, and then sprinkles it with Court-water. He scrapes out his diet in curtsies; and cringeth to his glorious object, as a little Cur to a Mastiff: licking his hand, not with a healing, but poisoning tongue. Riches make many friends: truly; they are friends to the riches, not to the rich man. A great proud man, because he is admired of a number of hangs-by, thinks he hath many friends. So the Ass, that carried the goddess, thought all the knees bowed to her, when they reverenced her burden. They play like flies in his beams, whiles his wealth warns them. Whilst like some great Oak, he stands high and spreads far in the forest, innumerable beasts shelter themselves under him, feeding like hogs on his acorns: but when the axe of distress begins to fallen him, there is not one left to hinder the blow. Like burrs, they stick no longer on his coat, than there is a nap on it. These Kites would not flock to him, but that he is a fat carcase. Sejanus, whom the Romans worship in the morning as a Semi-god, before night they tear apieces. Even now stoops, and presently strokes. You may be sure, he is but a gallipot, full of honey, that these wasps hover about; and when they have fed themselves at his cost, they give him a sting for his kindness.  
The Flatterer is young Gallants Schoolmaster, and enters them into booke-learning. Your cheating Tradesman can no more be without such a Factor, than an Usurer without a Broker. The Fox( in the Fable) seeing the Crow highly perched, with a good morsel in his mouth, flattered him that he sung well, with no scant commendations of his voice: whereof the Crow proud, began to make a noise, and let the meat fall: the foolish bird seeing now himself deceived, soon left singing, and the Fox fell to eating. I need not moral it. The Instrument his tongue is tuned to another's ear; but like a common fiddler, he dares not an honest song. He lifts up his Patron at the tongues end, and sets him in a superlative height; like a Pharos, or the eye of the Country, when he's indeed the eyesore. He swears to him, that his commending any man is above a justice of pieces letter; and that the eyes of the Parish wait upon him for his grace. He insinuates his praise, most from others report: wherein( very rankly) he wrongs three at once. He belies the named commender, the person to whom this commendation is sent, and most of all himself, the messenger. Whilst he supplies a man with the oil of flattery, he wounds his heart; like thunder, which breaks the bone, without scratching the skin. He seldom speaks so pompously of his friend, except he be sure of Porters to carry it him. He is the proud man's earwig, and having once gotten in, impostumes his head. A continent man will easily find him; as knowing, that it is as evil, laudari à turpibus, as ob turpia. One being asked, which was the worst of beasts, answered; of wild beasts the Tyrant, of tame beasts the Flatterer. Like an ill Painter, because he cannot draw a beautiful picture, he is ever limbing deformities and devils: so the Flatterer, ignorant of goodness, lays fair colours upon foul iniquities. This cunning wrestler stoops low, to give the greater fall, and wisheth to his object, as a whore to her Lover, abundance of all goods, except only sober wits. He studies all the week for preventions, to keep his Patron on the Sunday from Church: a Sermon and he are antipodes. Lest his Observed should take him into the light, and look on him, he keeps him perpetually hoodwinked with the opinion of his own knowledge; admiring his deeds for sanctimonious, and his words for Oracles. Sometimes Conscience is his rivall-aduocate, and pleads against him in his Patron's heart: but because the judge is partial on his side, and his periurous tale runs so smooth with the grain of his affections, he gives Conscience the checkmate. In short, he is( at last) one way a Pander, Cozenages Factor, sins Magician, and a pleasing murderer, that with arrident applauses tickles a man to death.   

Cure.  
TO cure this stinking breath of Adulation, give him a vomit. 
Pro. 24. 24.  He that saith to the wicked, Thou art righteous, him shall the people curse; nations shall abhor him. But to them 
Verse 25.  that rebuke him, shall be delight, and a good blessing shall come upon them. As ( not serving our Lord jesus Christ, but his own 
Rom. 16, 18.  belly) by good words and fair speeches he hath deceived the hearts of the simple; so he hath most deceived himself, and been no less his own fool, than others knave. Tell him, that his beginning is hateful to God, his end to men also. His great friend did no more love him in his dream, than he will hate him waking: as a sick man, after the receipt of a loathsome potion, hates the very cruse, whereout he drank it. And lightly, what he hath got by flattering fools, he spends upon knaves; or worse, and dies full of nothing but sins and diseases. Let him sound repent, reform himself, inform others, whom he hath deformed; become a friend to goodness, and so to himself and others. Repentance and Obedience can only make his breath sweet.    

Short windedness and weariness of doing well. Disease 19  
THe Asthma is caused by abundance of gross & clammy humours, gathered into the gristles, or lappets of the lungs: or through some distillations, wherewith the Trachea arteria, or windpipe is replete.  

Cause.  
THe causes of this spiritual Short-windednesse, are 1. want of Faith, which is the true lifeblood of courage against all difficulties. 2. want of Patience, to hold out in the working up of salvation. 3. a feeble hope, not supposing the recompense to the worth of their labours.   

Signs and Symptoms.  
THe Signs of both the diseases are palpable: the Physician may easily judge of his Patient, the Patient of himself. He prays for a brunt very zealously, but like a hasty shower soon over. You shall have him the first man at Church, on a Sabbath morning, and the first man out. He lays the foundation of an alms-house, and so leaves it. He shoots up, like jonas gourd, in a night, and next day withers. He is in religious practices, like the Spring in that windy month, March many forwards. He riseth fair, as a Summer-sunne, but is soon clouded: no man rides faster at first putting forth, nor is sooner weary of his journey. A little onwards to heaven, he quandaries, whether to go forward to God, or with Demas to turn back to the world. The light of his devotion is ever anon in the eclipse, and his whole life rings the changes; hot and cold, in and out, off and on, to and fro: he is peremptory in nothing, but in vicissitudes. He is early up and never the near; saluting Christ in the morning, but none of those that stayed with him: therefore losing his reward, because he will not tarry working in the Vineyard till night. He purposeth to go to God, 
Mat. 15. 32.  and in the fit of his devotion tells him so, but still breaks promise. One told Socrates, that he would fain travel to Olympus, but he feared his ability to hold out the journey. Socrates answered him, I know you walk every day a little, put that together in a continuing straightness, and you shall come whither you desire. This man rows( as we all should do) against the stream; & whiles he neglects 2 or 3. strokes, he is carried down further in an hour, than he can recover in a day. He loves, like a horse, short journeys: & walks on so warily, wearily, timorously, that he tells his steps, and his stops; and reckons every impediment to a rub & a thorn.   

Cure.  
FOr his cure. Pro ratione victus, as they prescribe for the Asthma, which is a disease in the body, to avoid perturbations of the mind: so let this Orthopnick, for the help of his mind, avoid needless perturbations of the body. He is troubled, like Martha about many things, but forgets the better part. Give him some juice of Bulapathum, which is the herb patience. For he hath need of patience, that after he hath done the 
Heb. 10. 36.  will of God, he might receive the promise. He considers not that heaven is up an hill, like Olympus with the heathen, mount Zion with the Christian, and therefore thinks to get thither per saltum, not per scansum. Assure him, that Salvation 
Phil. 2. 12. 2. Pet. 1. 10.  must be wrought up, and Election made sure by diligence. That vincenti dabitur; not to him that flies, nor to him that knocks a bout or two, nor to him that faints and yields, but To him that overcomes. That who continues to the end shall be 
Reu. 2. & 3. Mat. 24. 13.  saved. That it was a shame to see Lot incestuous with his daughters in the Mount, that kept him chaste in Sodom: to see Noah mocked of his son for drunkenness, by whose righteousness his son scaped. That he hath many encouragements, Christ calling, the Father blessing, the Spirit working, the Angels comforting, the Word directing, 
2. Thes, 3. 13 Gala. 6. 9 Esa. 28. 12.  the Crown inviting: all tuning him this one lesson, Be not weary of well-doing. For in due season we shall reap, if we faint not: and after our weary labour find rest.    

The Conclusion.  
INnumerable are the bodies infirmities; introitus unus, innumeri exi-tus, there being but one means of coming into the world, infinite of going out; and Sickness is Death's Leger▪ Ambassador. But they are few and scant, if compared to the souls; which being a better piece of timber, hath the more teredines breeding in it: as the fairest flower hath the most Cantharideses attending on it. The devil loves the soul as the jewel, the body of the rind or husk, as if it were without the other a dead commodity, and would stink in his hands. He cries as the king of Sodom to Abrahrm, Da mihi animus▪ caetera cape tibi. If he can corrupt this, he knows the other will fall to corruption of itself: for the soul works by motion, the body but by action for the soul's servant. Now sathan was ever ambitious and will not care for the waiting Maid, if he may get the mistress; or useth the other but for his better conveyance and insinuation to this. And because it bears the narrow portraiture and image of that Creator he emulates, this he seeks the more violently to deface. Let the body enjoy the light and warmth of the Sun, so he can enwrap this in the cold clouds of dark night. A dark night indeed, wherein many souls do live; having the little windows or loop-holes of reason shadowed by the curtains of fleshly lusts. Night is a sad, heavy, and uncomfortable time, to the unresting body( a nurse of anguished thoughts at whose dugs sorrows and dreams lie continually sucking:) thinking every hour an olympiad, till the Sun ariseth: so is the soul's darkness, if security hath not rocked asleep; and custom( which is the apoplexy of bedrid nature, and wicked life) obstupefied her; an unquiet, turbulent, and peaceless time: with such hurrying tempests within, that the body tumbles upon a soft bed, and after many experienced shift finds no ease.  
There be three things, say Physicians, that grieve the body. First, the cause of sickness, a contranatural distemper, which lightly men bring on themselves, though the sediments rest in our sinne-corrupted nature. Secondly, sickness itself. Thirdly, and the co-incidents, that either fellow it, or follow it. In the soul there be three grievances. First, original pravity, a natural 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, proclivity to evil, contradiction to good. Secondly, actual sin, the main sickness: Thirdly, and the concomitant effects, which are punishments corporal and spiritual, temporal and eternal. For all sin makes work; either for Christ, or Satan: for Christ, to expiate by his blood, and the efficacy of that once performed, ever available passion; or for the devil, as God's executioner to plague. Many remedies are given for many diseases: the sum is this; the best Physician is Christ jesus, the best Physic the Scriptures. Ply the one, fly to the other: let this teach thee, he must cure thee: that express image of his Father's person, and brightness of his glory, in whom the graces of God shine without measure: oft have you seen in one heaven 
I●b. 1. 3.  many stars; behold in this Son, as in one star many heavens: for in him dwelleth all fullness. let us fly by our faithful prayers to this Physician, and entreat him for that 
Colos. 1. 19  medicine, that issued out of his side, water and blood, to cure all our spiritual maladies. Fusus est sanguis medici, ut fiat medicamentum aegroti. And when in mercy he hath cured us, let our diet be a conversation led after the canon of his sacred Truth: that whatsoever become of this frail vessel, our flesh, floating on the waves of this world, the passenger our Soul may be saved in the day of the Lord jesus.  
Amen.   
FINIS.