THE SECOND PART OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY. Wherein, as it were by a natural history of the body and soul of man, the creation, matter, composition, form, nature, profit and use of all the parts of the frame of man are handled, with the natural causes of all affections, virtues and vices, and chief the nature, powers, works and immortality of the Soul. By PETER DE LA PRIMAUDAYE Esquire, Lord of the same place and of Bar. And translated out of the second Edition, which was reviewed and augmented by the Author. AT LONDON Printed by G.B. R.N. R.B. 1594. TO THE RIGHT Honourable Sir JOHN PUCKERING knight, Lord Keeper of the great Seal of England, T. B. wisheth increase of honour here, to the glory of the Highest, and endless happiness with the Saints in the world to come. Having finished (Right honourable) the translation of the second part of the French Academy, and pondering with myself, unto whose Patronage I might commendand commit the same, as it were into a safe Haven to be preserved from the tempestuous and surging waves of this Sea-like world, it came to my mind upon sundry good considerations, that your Honour might challenge the same as a thing that by all right appertaineth unto yourself. For first, calling to my remembrance, that the principal scope aimed at by this Author in the penning of his book, was to uphold the glorious essence of God against all contradiction of Atheists, and that by the view of his divine works in the creation of the body and soul of man, I presently concluded with myself, that the defence of this point against that viperous brood, was a work best beseeming the sacred seat of Magistracy, and such as for their places representing the person of the supreme judge, wore by the infallible word of truth adorned with his own titles, Psal. 82. 1. Exod. 21. 6. Now forasmuch as by the special providence of God it hath pleased her royal Majesty to advance you to that seat of magistracy, next under her Highness, in which you are placed, it seemed unto me, that I should after a sort offer wrong unto your Honour, if I did not recommend unto it the defence of the highest ruler, whose person you do in a higher degree than others represent. Secondly, when I considered with myself that this generation of earth-worms, which place nature being but a creature in the room of the Creator, and deny the immortality of souls after this life, do therein as much as lieth in them labour to put out the light of their own conscience, which yet could never be wholly darkened in the minds of any, no not of the most desperate Atheist that ever was, I thought it most convenient to crave, that your Honours lawful protection in the behalf of this Book, and of my small pains taken therein for the benefit of my country, might be as it were a Sub paena served upon the whole rabble of these devils incarnate, to cause them to appear at that high court of Conscience, in which you enjoy the chiefest place next under her sacred Majesty, there to make answer to the humble complaint of Conscience, unto which they offer such notorious violence. A third reason that moveth me to become an humble petitioner, that this book may be gathered under the wings of your Honours safe defence, is the constant report of your great care, that none be entertained into your retinue and family, whose hearts are possessed with a liking of that Antichrist of Rome, within the compass of whose jurisdiction, this dangerous infection of Atheism began first in this latter age of the world to break forth, and hath now set footing even in those countries, from whence by a general consent of all Estates it hath been banished long ago. Let Florence testify this to all posterity succeeding, where that monster Machiavelli first began to bud, who hath now spread abroad his deadly branches of Atheism over the most countries in Christendom, insomuch as few places but are so well acquainted with his doctrine, that the whole course of men's lives almost every where, is nothing else but a continual practice of his precepts. And yet Machiavelli being Secretary to that Florentine estate, and employed altogether in civil affairs, may seem in some sort inexcusable, if he be compared with many of those unholy Fathers of Rome, who making open profession to be the Ringleaders (forsooth) of the whole world to bring them unto GOD, were plunged irrecoverably in this bottomless gulf of Atheism. Pope Leo the tenth a Florentine borne, was so far from confessing Christ jesus to be the Son of God with Peter, whose Vicar he would seem to have been, that he blushed not openly to deride the doctrine of the Gospel, and to scoff at Christ jesus himself the Author thereof. For upon a time as Cardinal Bembo by occasion cited unto him a place of Scripture concerning the glad tidings of salvation, this son of perdition most blasphemously replied upon him in this manner, How profitable this fable of Christ hath been to us and to our crew is well known to all ages. A most horrible saying, and such as could not proceed but from a flat Atheist: of whom also it is reported, that he maintained there was neither Heaven nor Hell after this life. Birds of the same feather were Silvester the second, Benedict the ninth, Gregory the seventh, john the three & twentieth, Alexander the sixth, Clement the eight, Paulus the third, with divers others of that rabble, of whom some utterly renounced God and betook themselves to the Devil, some denied the immortality of the soul, some taught most damnable heresies, and all of them turned the grace of our God into wantonness, denying God the only Lord, and our Lord jesus Christ, Jude verse 4. It would require a long time to anatomize their several lives, and your Honours weighty affairs in behalf of this Church and Commonwealth will suffer no long discourse: in regard whereof I am constrained in few words, and yet in most humble wise to recommend myself and these my poor labours to be shrouded under your Lordship's safe protection, most hearty craving at the hands of the highest, so to guide your Honour in the managing of that great charge he hath called you unto, as may make most both for his own glory here, and for your blessed and endless reward elsewhere. [* ⁎ *] Your honours most addicted T. B. TO THE CHRISTIAN READER Grace and Peace. SENECA the Philosopher reporteth (gentle Reader) that the looking glass was first invented to this end, that man might use it as a mean to know himself the better by. Now besides that in a glass we may attain to some kind of knowledge of ourselves when we take a view of our own countenance, and of the lineaments & proportion of our bodies outwardly, Socrates applied the same to a further use for the instruction of manners. For as Apuleius writeth of him, he earnestly persuaded his Auditors to look often into a glass, and to behold themselves therein, to this intent, that he which thought himself beautiful and fair, might take occasion thereby to avoid all kind of deformity in manners and conversation, whereby that beauty of his would be greatly blemished: and that whosoever perceived by the glass any defect of comeliness in his countenance, might labour so much the more seriously by the help of virtue and inward graces of the mind to recompense the outward wants & imperfections of his body. In which respect this Book may most fitly be resembled to a glass, as that which affordeth unto us both these uses in far more excellent manner than can be performed by any looking glass how rare and surpassing soever it be. For even the best of that kind doth represent unto our eyes only so much of the surface of our own bodies as is directly before it, but as for the hinder parts we take no view of them by a glass, much less is it able to give us a sight of the internal members of our bodies, whereby we may attain to any profitable knowledge of them. But if we take a diligent view of this book, and with the eyes both of body and mind look intentively upon the same, it will in most evident manner represent unto us not only the outward members of man's body both before and behind & on every side, but even the most hidden and inward parts thereof, which otherwise before life have left the body cannot possibly be seen of any man. Here may you behold all the bones as it were the frame and timberworke of man's body, yea the very foundation upon which all the residue of the building is laid. Hear may you see the exquisite frame and composition of the head, as it were the upper lodging of this house, the several ventricles of the brain, as so many sundry chambers for the entertainment of the Animal spirits: the singular workmanship of the eyes, as of the lights and windows appertaining to this palace of man's body: the matter and form of the humours in the eyes, as it were the crystal glass set in the windows, together with the eyelids as casements to open & shut, to receive in or keep out the light as need requireth: besides the eyebrows as penthouses to defend those windows from the violence of stormy weather. What should I speak of the ears, as of high watch-towres whereby warning is given to the internal senses so often as any adversary noise giveth notice of enemies approaching to annoy this goodly castle? The mouth is it not as the door that receiveth in all kind of provision meet for the reparation and maintenance of this great building, as occasion serveth? It is a world to think what excellent workmanship appeareth in the voice & tongue of man, and what singular uses it hath very requisite for the perfection of this piece of work. Now if we shall descend and enter into the contemplation of the breast, as of the middle story of this building, & consider with what goodly household stuff those rooms are adorned, who is able either with tongue to utter, or with heart to conceive, the rare devices the precious jewels, the singular art there to be found? What an exceeding fair room is the dining chamber of the heart, the receptacle of the will & affections, the shop wherein the vital spirits are wrought, and the forge from whence is derived that fire and heat which warmeth the whole house? And lest this fire should break forth into such a flame as might bring peril of burning to this goodly building the chamber of the heart is daily & continually refreshed with cool blasts proceeding from the lungs, as from an outward room that is built round about a great part thereof. Here also is to be seenethe Artery, which as a lively conduit carrieth forth continually most crystal streams of vital spirits into every room and office of the house. Betwixt this second story and the third is laid the Midriff as a flore that maketh a separation between the instruments of the vital parts being the implements of that middle room, and the natural instruments of the neither story which serve both for the upholding & maintenance of the whole building, and also containeth in it matter for the erecting of a new frame, which is to stand after the former is come to his full period. In this third story or partition is to be seen the stomach, which being as it were the kitchen of the body receiveth in at the door of the mouth all such meats & drinks as are requisite for the keeping of it in sufficient reparations, & for the defence of it against two mighty enemies Hunger and Thirst, who by continual undermining can of the same, la● or to lay it even with the ground. And because nothing can be prepared in the kitchen without heat, & the maintenance thereof, besides the natural heat of the stomach it is compassed on the right side with the liver, on the left with the spleen, behind with the muscles of the chinbone, before with the kal, above it hath the hart & midriff, and within it are sundry vital spirits, from all which as from so many several fires, it receiveth heat for the better dressing and concocting of that which is conveyed into it. Neither are the gutters & sinks necessarily belonging to every house, wanting to the perfection of this beautiful building of man's body: as may appear by the guts and other parts of base service, without which it is not possible that this frame should long continue. Now besides the singular delight and pleasure, which this natural knowledge of our own bodies yieldeth unto our minds, the profit & commodity that issueth here from is great & manifold. For first in regard of ourselves if we were thoroughly acquainted with the Anatomy of our bodies, with the substance and situation, with the form and qualities, with the uses and offices of every part and member of the same, it is out of all question, that by the knowledge thereof, we might both prevent many diseases and infirmities, which through want thereof would seize upon us, and being overtaken with any, might recover ourselves more speedly by a wise and skilful carriage of ourselves according to the same. Neither is it laid upon every one to have so much skill as is requisite for him that maketh profession of that art towards all men, but only so far forth as may serve for the preservation of his own health, either in employing the talon of his private knowledge, or in yielding himself more readily, unto the wise direction of the skilful Physician. Secondly, Prou. 6. 6. as Solomon sendeth us to the industrious nature of the Pismire to learn diligence and forecast in our calling, so the Apostle taketh occasion by the variety of members in one body, 1. Cor. 12. to reprehend two sorts of people in the Church of Corinth, both such as were carried away with envy towards their superiors, themselves being endued with meaner gifts, and those also who being furnished with more excellent ornaments of God's spirit, were puffed up with pride in themselves, and with disdyne towards others of fewer graces. And this being the second use that ariseth from this natural knowledge of our bodies, offereth itself in most plentiful manner to be observed by us, in every part and member of the same. What a notable lesson of good neighbourhood are we taught by the view & contemplation of man's face? For, as many several members of different uses are so artificially knit and linked together in one face, that not one of them is any impediment or hindrance, unto another in the execution of his office: so we are instructed thereby how to carry ourselves towards our neighbours, every one to contain himself within the limits of his several calling, & not to encroach one upon another as the manner of a great many is, that are not contented with their own estate. Again, in the second story of this frame when we consider the lungs, which are the bellows of the voice, are placed so near the heart that they compass it round about, are not all men thereby admonished, that their speech is but the interpreter of the heart, & the messenger thereof? that the mouth must like a good servant attend upon the heart, & utter nothing but that which it receiveth first from the same? that no man ought to imitate the example of Hippolytus in Euripides, who being admonished of his Nurse to remember his Oath, made her this misshapen answer, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: The tongue hath sworn, but the mind is unsworn? As many hollowhearted subjects of late days behaved themselves towads her Majesty, having received a dispensation so to do from Pope Gregory the thirteenth, whose goodly posy was thus set down in certain tokens sent to all such as were to be reconciled unto him, Fili mi da mihi cor & sufficit, My son, give me thy heart, and i● sufficeth. Which is all one as if he had said swear and forswear thyself if thou wilt, say thou art a good subject go to the church, do whatsoever is commanded thee, so thou let me have thy heart, it skilleth not who have thy t●●g, thy hand, & all the rest of thy body. Elihu being of another spirit, was better instructed in the knowledge of this near conjunction, which naturally ought to be between the heart and the tongue: and therefore speaking to his friend job he telleth him, job 33. 3. that his words should be in the uprightness of his heart. Whereas they that follow not this course of nature, but violently draw their tongue to utter that which is far disagreeing from the meaning of the heart, are branded for the same by the kingly Prophet David with this mark of infamy, Psalm 12. 2. that they are men of two hearts, or of a double heart, which is monstrous in nature. The like instruction to this we are taught in that the tongue is placed so near under the brain, which is the seat of the mind & understanding part of man, as it were at the feet of her schoolmaster, to the intent it should not speak unadvisedly and handover head, as we use to say, but with great deliberation, both in regard of the matter itself to be delivered by speech, and also of the circumstances of time, place and persons, which are not to be neglected. For look how preposterous it is to set the 〈◊〉 before the horse, so is it for the tongue to run before the wit, and to utter it knoweth not well what, having received no direction from the same. And therefore Solomon putting the name of heart for the mind and understanding part of man saith, Prover. 15. 28. and 16. 23. that a righteous man's heart meditateth or pondereth what it shall answer: & that the heart of the wise guideth his mouth prudently. Neither is it slightly to be passedover, that every one having two eyes that serve for seeing, two ears for hearing, two nostrils for smelling, two feet for going, hath yet but one soft & fleshy tongue for sundry uses, & that tied fast with strings, & compassed about with gums, teeth, and lips, as with a double wall, to teach men thereby, that the tongue being a very unruly member, had need to be bridled & hemmed in on every side, lest it break forth into a world of wickedness, and breed destruction to the whole body. Now if we look into the middle story of this building, there we shall see that although the heart be the fountain of life, and the root of all the vital spirits that are dispersed into every part and member of the body, yet it cannot want either the cool refreshing it hath from the lungs, or the veine-pip●s proceeding from the liver, or the moving strings it hath from the sinews, or the necessary defence of the ribs and bones, which as strong bulwarks and rampires fence it in on every side. Even so fareth it with the great and mighty men of this world; who although in regard of their power and authority over others, they seem to have their lives and livelihoodes at their beck and commandment, yet they are so far from being able of themselves to maintain their honours and high places without the necessary aid of the inferior sort, as that without them they should want wherewith to uphold their own lives. But this appeareth yet more evident in the lower story of this frame, where the guts and entrails of the body as it were the sinks of an house have their abiding. For although in regard of their use they may seem to be the basest and most abject parts of the body, yet if we consider the necessity of them, we shall see that a man may better spare a principal member of his body then the least gut that is in his belly. Even so fareth it with the politic body of a common wealth, in which the base Artisan will sooner be miss oftentimes then he that carrieth a greaterport, and is advanced to a higher room and office in the same. A third use that may be made of this book as it were of a crystal glass worthy the looking into, is that singular delight & pleasure which may be reaped, by the view and consideration of the harmony between this terrestrial frame, & the celestial habitation of the heavens, when they are compared together. And as that famous sentence 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Know thyself, is reported of many to have descended from the heavens, so surely it will be no small furtherance to a man whereby he may attain to a better knowledge of himself, if he seriously observe what a great agreement there is between him and the heavens, whereunto the very situation of his countenance lift up towards heaven, doth as it were lead him by the hand. First therefore if we consider the original of them both, Gen. 1. 1, 26. we find in holy Writ, that as God is said to have made the heavens in the beginning, so also it is there related, that not long after he made man after his own image and committed unto him the sovereignty over the earth and over all living and moving creatures under the cope of heaven. Neither can it be truly said, that howsoever the Lord himself form the first man, and breathed in his face the breath of life, yet since that first creation he hath not intermeddled at all with the continual propagation of mankind, but hath surrendered all his working power into the hands of nature, by whose powerful operation the matter of men's bodies is brought to this glorious perfection, which we see it hath when it first appeareth in the world. For this is to speak after the manner of mere natural men, that have not as yet learned the language of Canaan, as is plain if we call to mind what the kingly Prophet saith unto the Lord, that it was he that possessed his reins, Psal. 139. 13. and that covered him in his mother's womb. Which also is more manifestly taught by that holy man job, who confidently affirmeth, job 10. 10, 11. that it was the Lord who had powered him out as milk, and turned him to cruds like cheese: that he had clothed him with skin and flesh, and joined him together with bones and sinews. Wherefore as it was the eternal God, who first turned the body of the heavens into that roundness, gathered the light into the bodies of the celestial lamps, fixed the stars in the firmament, endued each planet with his several motion, and clothed the inferior world with this glorious circumference: so the same God at the first planted Adam as the root of mankind, and ever since hath caused his whole race & every several person as so many branches to issue and grow out of his loins. He turned the eyes into that roundness: he planted the ears as watchtowers in the upper part of the head: he placed the tongue, fastened the teeth, stretched out the sinews? he watered the veins with blood, gave maessines to the bones, and clothed the flesh with a fine skin as with a garment: he severed the fingers and toes, caused the feet to walk, and the hands to gripe. He, and none but he giveth sight to the eyes, hearing to the ears, taste to the tongue, smelling to the nostrils, and feeling to the fingers. Who but he hath endued the lungs with breathing, the heart with the spirits of life, the stomach with concoction, the liver with the making of blood, and women's breasts with the making of milk? Who hath fashioned the instruments of hearing in the head like to a hammer and an anvil, the heart in the body like a pyramid, and made the spleen in substance like a sponge? Who hath covered the head with hair for comeliness, and boared the skin through with infinite pores for evacuation? In a word, who hath given beauty to the whole body, and to each member his several operation? What father, what mother, what workman hath wrought these things, but the only wise and immortal God? But to proceed, as the sun, moon, and celestial stars and planets have a double motion, the one common with the whole body of the heavens, the other proper and peculiar according to the nature of every several star: so have the parts of man's body two motions, whereof the one dependeth of the motion of the whole body, and is therefore universal, and the other is particular according to the inset nature and disposition of each several member. And to descend to a more special comparison of one particular thing with an other, how doth the diverse operations of the animal spirit (whose seat is in the brain) concur with the different workings of the sun in the firmament upon the inferior bodies here below upon the face of the earth? We see that through the selfsame reflection of the sunbeams, the clay is hardened, and the wax made soft: that the light of the sun is comfortable to some eyes, whereas other become worse through the brightness of the same, that it worketh otherwise upon a thick body then upon a thin, upon a hard then upon a soft, upon a plant then upon a stone, upon the earth then upon the water. So the Animal spirit being distributed into sundry partr and members of the body worketh diversly in each of them according to the diverse nature, composition, and temperament of every one. For being imparted to the eyes by the optic sinews it giveth sight: to the ears by certain passages, it worketh hearing: to the tongue by small Nerves, it breedeth tasting: in a word, being dispersed into the muscles and skin by means of certain sinewy threads concurring in manner of a net, it infuseth feeling throughout the whole body. And as it often falleth out that we are deprived of the heat and light of the sun, when either some thick cloud, or the body of the Moon, or some such thing is interposed and put between us and the same: so we quickly see and feel the want of the Animal spirit, when any thick clammy humour, or wind, or melancholic fumes, or any such impediment stop the passages and hinder the working thereof, as is to be seen in them that are taken with the palsy, apoplexy, madness, numbness, and such like. It is no less delectable than strange to consider in how many things the Sun as it were the heart of the heavens, agreeth with the heart of man, which may not unfittely be called the sun of the body. For as the Sun being the chiefest of the Planets occupieth the middle place among those wandering stars, having the rest as his guard both above and beneath him, to employ as need requireth both for their own safety and the good of the inferior world: so the heart being the chiefest member of the body, is seated in the middle story of the same, having the other parts both above and beneath it and on every side, employing them according to their several offices for the upholding and preservation of the whole frame. And as the Sun is the storehouse of that celestial heat, which together with a divine and quickening spirit working in the bowels of the earth maketh it a fruitful Mother, and tender Nurse for the bringing forth and preservation of all things: so the heart is the hearth from whence proceedeth all that inset and native heat, which being conveyed with the vital spirit into every member of the body maketh them lively and powerful to perform those duties that are enjoined them. Concerning the motion of the heart, as it agreeth with the Sun in this that they both have a double motion, so in that the hea● being the first that receiveth life and motion, is the Original of all motion in the body, it resembleth the whole heavens, of which dependeth all natural motions of inferior bodies whatsoever. Again, the two eyes in the head represent the two chief lights in the firmament. And as there are both simple stars in the heavens, namely the Sun, Moon, Saturn, Iupit●r, Mercury with the rest, and also compound, as the Charles-waine, the Lion, both the bears and others: so in the body there are simple or similar parts, as the sinews, bones, arteries, veins, etc. and compound parts, as the heart, liver, brain, stomach, lungs and such like. Moreover, it is certain, that the Planets, howsoever in regard of their moving to and fro they are said to be wandering stars, have yet their certain limits in the heavens, especially in the Zodiac, in which as in their dwelling houses they exercise those natural powers wherewithal they are endued, as the proper mansion of the sun is in Leo, of the Moon in Cancer, of Saturn in Capricorn, of jupiter in Sagittarius, and so of the rest. In like manner, although the body of man be so framed, as that there is no one part but it is serviceable unto all, yet there are certain several places appointed as peculiar shops for each faculty to work in especially, as the brain for the Animal spirit, the heart for the Vital, and the liver for the Natural: the gall is the receptacle for choler, the spleen for Melancholy, the sucking veins serve to purge the blood from the serous substance of it, and so of the other powers and parts of the body. To conclude this third use (for a day would not suffice to utter all that might be spoken in this matter) as the Sun by reason of the Annual progress through the twelve signs, maketh a sensible division of the year into four parts, which have their different seasons and qualities if they fallout according to the course of nature, and so likewise the Moon by her 〈◊〉 quartereth the month accordingly: even so farethit with the body of man in regard of his whole age, which being considered from the beginning unto the ending, agreeth very fitly to those several seasons both for number and predominant qualities, if the thread of life be not cut off in the midway by the razor of death. For the body of man in his first age, which is his childhood, is moist and hot, and so is the former part of the year called the Spring, as also the first part of the month from the new moon to the ending of the first quarter. In the second part of man's age, which is his flourishing and youthful time, the body of man is hot and dry, such as are the qualities of the second part of the year or Summer season, and of that second part of the month, which is from the first quarter to the full Moon. Thirdly, the body of man in the third part of his age, commonly called Mans-age, is cold and moist according to the disposition of the third part of the year called Autumn, and of that season of the Moon, which is from the full to the last quarter. To conclude, in the fourth and last quarter of man's age called Old-age, his body is cold● and dry like to the Winter season, and to the fourth part of the month, which is from the last quarter to the next new Moon. Now as these three former uses of the Anatomy of man's body serve for the commodity and delight of man, so the fourth is the same that aught to be made, not only of the body of man, but as Solomon teacheth us, of all the creatures both in heaven and earth, and that is the glory of God, For the Lord having set in his visible creatures evident marks of himself and of his eternity, power goodness, Rom. 1. 20. wisdom and providence, as the Apostle teacheth, what remaineth but that man for whose sake & service the Lord created all things, should thereby acknowledge his sovereign Lord, and return unto him all glory, praise, and dutiful obedience for the same. That we ought to make this use of the anatomical consideration of our bodies, the kingly Prophet David teacheth us most divinely by his own example, when after a view taken of the admirable work of God in fashioning him in his mother's womb, he breaketh forth into this saying, Psalm. 139. 14. I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works, and my soul knoweth it well. And surely unless we tread in the steps of this worthy king, & propo●●d this as the scope of all our travails in searching out the several parts of our bodies, that God our Creator and gracious preserver may be praised, worshipped, & feared thereby, we shall never know ourselves aright, and as we ought to do, but rather join with the most part of men who not using their skill in this behalf as a ladder to climb up by unto God. stick fast in the very matter and form of their bodies, so that many of them become meère Naturalists and very Atheists. One especial cause whereof, as 〈◊〉 it is because they lay not the ground and foundation of their skill in the holy Scriptures, the fountain of all sound knowledge, which teach us, that ●t is the Lord that made us and that form us from the womb, Isay 44. 2. but follow after some small streams of this knowledge, even such as are polluted with the in●entions of man's brain placing the course of nature in the procreation of mankind (which is but an effect of God's almighty working power) in the room of God himself the supreme cause of al. In which respect they may not unfitly be resembled to Moles that are always plodding in the earth, or to swine that finding acorns upon the ground, never look up to the tree from which they fall. They forget that man's eyes are therefore set in the head, which is the upper part of the body, rather than in his breast, belly, or feet, because he should be admonished thereby to lift up his mind unto heaven and heavenly things: & therefore Plato saith, that men's eyes were set in a body erected and looking upward, that they might be as guides to lead them to the knowledge of God, upon the sight of the celestial light, & notice taken of the heavenly motions. Otherwise, although a man's skill be never so great, although he knoweth the way of the stars, the walls of the world, the foundations of the earth, the top of the heavens, yet if he be ignorant of the creator & moderator of them all, it shall profit him nothing. But as no man is to look for grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles, so we must not think that Epicures and Atheists will once either labour to know God or open their lips to praise him, when as yet they have not learned to believe that he is, much less that he is a rewarder of them that seek him. Hebr. 11. 6. And surely of all Satan's delusions wrought by him in the hearts of unbelievers, this monstrous error of 〈…〉, as that which is destitute of all show of 〈…〉 self into the heart of man. For 〈…〉 ruption, hunger and thirst is not more incident unto him then 〈…〉 religion and aberration in 〈◊〉, yet for any man not to see and acknowledge by the dim candle of nature, that God is, that his 〈◊〉 ●●●cheth over all, that the soul of man is immortal, and that after this l●se there is a place of happiness for the good and of torments for the wicked, is as I may term it, a supernatural error, or rather cleun● againsst 〈◊〉 religion, nature and all. The truth whereof appeareth both by the common consent of all nations, who have generally approo●ed those points as inviolable principles and maxims in nature, and also by the judgement of the sounder sort of Philosophers and Lawmakers amongst the Heath●●, who knowing that all men's consciences did naturally acknowledge not only a being of a divine power, but a subjection also thereunto, pretended that their laws and superstitions came from some one or other of their supposed gods & goddesses: as Minos' King of the Cretensians made the people believe that he had received his laws of jupiter, Lycurgus the D●●●demonian lawmaker of Apollo's oracle, Numa Pompilius a Roman● king of Aegeria the Nymph, and so the rest of others. And in truth they that deny the divine essence, what do they but deny themselves, and the being of all things in the world beside? For as Aratus the heathen Poet 〈…〉 is also confirmed unto us by the Apostle Paul, Act. 17. In God we live, 〈…〉 have our being: so that without him it is impossible we should have any being one moment of an hour. And it is strange to consider 〈◊〉 these reaonable beasts (for men I dare not call them) standing so 〈◊〉 upon reason and sense as they would seem to do, cannot in reason 〈◊〉 that this great variety & exquisite order, which they behold and see in nature & natural things, must of necessity have some superior cause from which they received both their first being, and their conti●●al 〈◊〉 in the same. When they look upon any excellent picture, they presently judge, as the truth is, that it was wrought by some cunning painter: and every 〈◊〉 building leadeth all men to the consideration of some exquisite master builder that framed it. And shall not the view of the world, and the knowledge of so many admirable things therein as are subject to all our senses, constra●●●●s to acknowledge a superior cause and creator of them all? Doth any ship sail his right course without a Pilot? or is there any City well governed without a Magistrate? And shall any surmise, that the celestial lights could observe their right motions without the direction of him that made them? or that the terrestrial globe of the earth could 〈◊〉 so well ordered by the course of nature, were it not that all things are 〈◊〉 by him that 〈◊〉 them all? But such is the blockishness of these 〈…〉 that they will believe nothing but that which they may see with their eyes, and 〈◊〉 knowledge of by the light of their bodies. As though, if their eyes were plucked out of their heads there could be no sun in the 〈…〉 nor light in the world because themselves were in darkness and could see nothing. How many things are there in nature which 〈…〉, and yet no man maketh any question of their being, no not they 〈◊〉, who notwithstanding deny that there is any divine nature, any 〈◊〉 soul, Angel or spirit, because they are not visible and sub●ect to ●ight. Can any of them see the wind, look upon the voice of a man, behold the sweet harmony of music? Nay, can they take a view of the hearts in their bodies, or of the brains in their heads? Are they therefore without heart and brainless? Surely it seemeth they are clean void of brain, ●it and common sense, that nail all their belief so fast to the sight of their bodily eyes. And yet were it so that they would not most wilfully 〈…〉 the evidence of their own hearts, they should there behold with the eyes of their mind as it were in a crystal glass that which may be known of God. Rom. 1. 19 Nay the holy Ghost proceedeth further, and telleth us, that even our bodily eyes may and do after a sort look upon the eternal powe● and Godhead, Psal. 20. which are seen by the creation of the world, being viewed in the works thereof. And because it may so fall out by the 〈◊〉 judgement of God, that these beetle-eyed Atheists may aswell be deprived of their bodily eyes, as they want the sight of their minds, the creator and Lord of the whole world hath set such marks of his deity in his works that such as have only the direction of nature may even with their eyes closed up touch and handle him if they will but grope after him, Act. 17. 27. in whom we all live move and have our being. What should I press them with the certain testimony of their own hearts and consciences, which will they will they, draw them to a fearful acknowledgement of the mighty power of God, whensoever either by his terrible voice of thunder he shaketh their hearts, or by some irrecoverable disease, as a messenger of death, he 〈◊〉 them to appear before his tribunal seat and throne of iusti●. But there needeth no other proof to co●●nce them then the words of their own mouths. For do not their horrible oaths whereby they blaspheme the Majesty of God, and as much as lieth in them tear him in pieces, ●e a●e ●●●nesse against themselves that the Lord whom they despite in that 〈…〉 hath a being, howsoever otherwise they deny the same? And if no reason will sink into their brains, yet me thinks the weight of God's judgement which have from time to time seized extraordinarily upon these Atheists that have sprung up in the world should cause them more seriously to consider of their miserable estate. It is reported of Protagoras, Protagoras. who was one of the first of that stamp, that being banished from Athens, and his Books publicly burnt, he was drowned in the sea as he sailed into Sicilia. Diagoras Diagoras. was violently slain by certain men whom the Athenians had hired with money for that purpose. Epicurus Epicurus. also, who placed his felicity in corporal pleasures, died miserably in a vessel of hot water, after that he hadbin fourteen days together extremely tormented with the stone in the bladder. Lucianus, Lucianus. surnamed by his own countrymen the Blasphemer, as he behaved himself most currishly in barking both against the gods of the Heathen, and against Christ jesus the Saviour of the world, so his end was thereafter by being torn in pieces and devoured of dogs. Pliny Pliny Sen. the elder denying the immortality of the soul of man, and placing Nature a creature in the stead of God the Creator, whilst he was over-curious in searching out the cause of the burning of Aetna, was choked with the smoke that issued from it. A just punishment for him to end his life by smoke, who esteemed his soul to be no better than a little vapour. Cassius. Brutus. Cassius being a professed Scholar of Epicurus, & Brutus most brutishly railing upon the providence of God because his enterprises against Caesar succeeded not to his desire, were both overtaken with the revenging hand of God, the one of them causing his servant to be his Butcher, and the other imbruing his hands in his own blood. The like befell Lucretius Lucretius. a most notorious Atheist, who being deprived of the right use of his senses, abused by him to the denying of God and of all religion, slew himself in the midst of his madness. Pope john the 13. Pope john 13. may worthily be enroled in this band, as he that was not ashamed to put up ● supplication to the devil to send him goodluck at dice: and one day in the midst of his jollity he took a cup of wine and drank to the devil. But by the just judgement of God he was stabbed in with a dagger by one who took him committing adultery with his wife, so that he died thereof within eight days after. Leo the tenth Pope Pope Leo. 10. of that name, who thought there was neither heaven nor hell after this life, and blasphemously said that the Gospel of Christ was but a fable, was suddenly stricken dead with an extreme laughter, which he fell into by reason of news brought him of the slaughter and overthrow of certain French men in Italy by his means. The French histories make mention of one Frances Rabelais, Frances Rabelais. who having sucked in this poison of Atheism made a mock at all religion, as Lucretius his forerunner had done before him: but the selfsame author & defender of true religion, that took from Lucretius all use of reason, did so deprive this beast of all sense, that as he led a brutish life; so he died like a swine in the midst of his drunkenness, deriding those that spoke unto him of God and of his mercy. jodellus jodellus. likewise a French Poet, and a professed Atheist, as he gave himself in his life time to write tragedies, so he made a right tragical end. For having through gluttony and riot wasted his patrimony and wealth, he fell into such extreme need, that he was miserably famished for want of sustenance. It would ask a long time to set down the judgements of God that have justly overtaken sundry others of this abominable crew: only I will rehearse one history worthy our knowledge concerning this matter, mentioned by Enguerran in the second volume of his Histories. In the reign of Lewes the eleventh, and upon the fift day of june 1464. there happened (saith he) a wonderful accident in the Palace at Paris, whilst there was a controversy in pleading between the Bishop of Angiers and a rich citizen of that town, A citizen of Angiers. whom the Bishop accused of notorious Atheism, namely, that he had said in the hearing of many, that he believed not there was any god or devil, either any heaven or hell, Now as the Bishop's Advocate rehearsed these words, the place where they were pleading trembled very sore, insomuch that with the shaking a stone fell down from the top to the bottom, but hurt no body, albeit they were all taken with a great fear. Whereupon they went all presently out of the place until the next day when the matter was to be heard again. And then also the said room began to shake again, so that one of the summers of the chamber sprang out of the mortesse, and bowed downward two feet, but fell not. All that were present supposed they should have died no other death, which caused them so violently to rush out, that for haste some left their hats, some their caps, some their slippers behind them, neither durst any plead any more there before it was thoroughly mended. Now albert Enguerran speaketh nothing of the determination of that suit, yet for as much as nothing cometh to pass by happe-hazard (as they use to speak) but all things are guided by the good providence of God, it is out of question, that the Lord would teach us hereby, how we should detest and abhor such execrable thoughts and speeches, seeing the very dumb creatures, as the stones, the timber, and the earth itself (which of it own nature is unmovable) were so affected with the horror thereof, that they could not abide so much as to hear it spoken of without shaking. But here some will say unto me, that this labour might well have been spared, considering that the sunshine of the Gospel (which breaketh forth so clearly in all quarters of the land) will quickly descry if any such ugly bird should once begin to peep out of the shell within the nest of this Island. And if the Athenians being mere heathen men banished Protagoras out of their territories, and burned his Books in a public place, because in the beginning of one of them he called the deity into question, we may not think but that in this land overspread with the knowledge of God, this monstrous brood shallbe nipped in the head so soon as ever it shall dare to show itself. Indeed a man would think that Atheism should not once be dreamt of, or named amongst us, considering that we live in those times of which the Prophets foretold, Isaiah. 11. 9 & 54. 13. jer. 31. 34. That the earth should be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters that cover the sea: that all the children of the Church should be taught of the Lord: so that one neighbour shall not teach another, saying, Know the Lord: for they shall all know me from the least of them to the greatest, saith the Lord. So a man would think that France, having been for these thirty years & upwards almost continually scourged with civillwarres, and that for the cause of religion, should be so far from being stained with the least spot of Atheism, as that it might now at the length truly say with the Prophet David, Psal. 119. 71. It is good for me that I was afflicted, for thereby have I learned to keep thy law. And yet both this our Author and some other of that nation, knowing that this infection hath seized upon many of their countrymen, have laboured by their writings to suppress the same. And surely it is greatly to be feared, that as their disguised attire covereth the bodies of many of our people, & maketh them deformed, so this poison of Atheism hath passed the narrow seas, & is landed in the hearts of no small number, to their utter destruction both of body and soul. Neither is this the fear of some few without any ground, but of a great many wise and godly Christians, who seeing the general profaneness of men's lives almost every where, both publicly cry out against the present infection, and privately bewail the future evils that necessarily follow the same. And albeit per adventure there be none amongst us, that are so far gone in Atheism as Ligneroles a French Courtier of late days was, who is said to have made open profession thereof, yet if the tree may be judged of by the fruits, & the outward effects of men's lives do show the inward affections of their hearts, he that hath but half an eye may see, that there are a great many amongst us of those foolishmen of whom David speaketh, Psal. 16. 1. Who say in their hearts that there is no God. In the forefront of which company, the students of Machiavel's principles and practisers of his precepts may worthily be ranged. This bad fellow whose works are no less accounted of among his followers, than were Apollo's Oracles among the Heathen, nay then the sacred Scriptures are among sound Christians, blusheth not to belch out these horrible blasphemies against pure religion, and so against God the Author thereof, namely, That the religion of the heathen made them stout & courageous, whereas Christian religion maketh the professors thereof baseminded, timorous, & fit to become a prey to every one: that since men fell from the religion of the Heathen, they became so corrupt that they would believe neither God nor the Devil: that Moses so possessed the land of judaea, as the Goths did by strong hand usurp part of the Roman Empire. These and such like positions are spewed out by this hellhound sometime against true religion, otherwhiles against the religion and Church of Rome, sometimes also taxing the religion of the heathen, of falsehood, and cousinage: so that in truth he would have all religion to be of like account with his disciples, except it be so far forth as the pretence and show of religion may serve to set forward and effect their wicked policies. And for this cause he setteth down this rule for every Prince and Magistrate to frame his religion by, namely, that he should pretend to be very religious and devout, although it be but in hypocrisy. And to this he addeth a second precept no less impious, that a Prince should with tooth and nail maintain false miracles and untruths in religion, so long as his people may thereby be kept in greater obedience. Now what fruits we are to expect from the students of this profession, let all men judge that have any sparks of pure religion glowing in their hearts. Unto these may be added, such as tread in the steps of Lamech, who derided the judgement of God upon Cain: such as walk in the ways of Ishmael, who mocked Isaac in regard of the promise: and such as those irreligious persons were of whom Peter speaketh, who in iesting-wise asked what was become of the promise of Christ his coming to judgement. That there are such amongst us, even in these times wherein we live, let the testimony which one of that crew gave lately of himself when the heavy hand of God by sickness summoned him to give an account of his dissolute life. He being one day admonished of his friends to leave his bad course of life, which otherwise would bring him to utter destruction, scoffingly returned them this answer: Tush (quoth he) what is he better that dieth in his bed than he that endeth his life at Tyburn? And being further urged to doubt the loss of his soul in Hell fire for ever although he feared not death in this world, he replied, Hell? What talk you of Hell to me? I know if I once come there, I shall have the company of better than myself: I shall also meet with some knaves in that place, and so long as I shall not sit there alone, my care is the less. But you are mad folks (quoth he) for if I feared the judges of the Bench no more than I dread the judgements of God, I would before I slept dive into one karles bags or other, and make merry with the shells I found in them so long as they would last. The voice of a mere Atheist, and so afterwards he pronounced of himself when he was checked in conscience by the mighty hand of GOD. And yet this fellow in his life time and in the midst of his greatest ruff, had the Press at commandment to publish his lascivous Pamphlets, whereby he infected the hearts of many young Gentlemen and others with his poisonful platforms of love, and devilish discourses of fancy's fits: so that their minds were no less possessed with the toys of his irreligious brain, than their chambers and studies were pestered with his lewd and want on books. And if the rest of his crew may be permitted so easily as he did without controlment to instill their venomous inventions into the minds of our English youth by means of printing, what other thing can we look for, but that the whole land should speedily be overflown with the deadly waters of all impieties, when as the floodgates of Atheism are thus set wide open? Are they not already grown to this boldness, that they dare to gird at the greatest personages of all estates and callings under the fables of savage beasts, not sparing the very dead that lie in their graves? that the holy Apostles, the blessed virgin Mary, the glorious kingdom of heaven itself must be brought in as it were upon astage to play their several parts, according as the humour of every irreligious head shall dispose of them? And whereas godly learned men, and some that have spoken of their own experience, have in their books that are allowed by authority, termed stage-plays and theatres, The school of abuse, the school of bawdry, the nest of the devil & sink of all sin, the chair of pestilence, the pomp of the devil, the sovereign place of Satan, yet this commendation of them hath lately passed the Press, that they are rare exercise of virtue. It were too long to set down the Catalogue of those lewd and lascivious books, which have mustered themselves of late years in Paul's Churchyard, as chosen soldiers ready to fight under the devils banner: of which it may be truly said, that they prevail no less (if not more) to the upholding of Atheism in this light of the Gospel, than the Legend of lies, Huon of Bordeaux, King Arthur, with the rest of that rabble, were of force to maintain Popery in the days of ignorance. Wherefore my humble suit is to all such as may by virtue of their authority stay the violent course of Atheism daily spread abroad by these pernicious Pamphlets, that they would lay to their helping hand for the speedy redress thereof. And as for those that reap the gain of iniquity by the sale of such infectious stuff, oh what a sweet smelling sacrifice should they offer unto the Lord, if they would gather all such hurtful Books together, and cause them to pass through the fire in the midst of that yard, where now they are so commonly sold. Hereby it would come to pass, that the land being purged of so great contagion as droppeth out of the pens of such godless brains, the Lord would withdraw his heavy hand, which now many ways presseth us sore, the preaching of the Gospel would prevail mightily, Act. 19 19, 20. as it did in Ephesus after the like sacrifice, and young Gentlemen and others would employ good hours upon better studies: which the Lord grant for his mercy's sake. AMEN. THE SPECIAL AND principal matters handled in this second tome of the French Academy, as it is divided into several days works, and distinguished by Chapters. The first days work. Pag. 15 OF the creation of the first man, and of the matter whereof the body of man is made. Chap. 1. 22 Of the creation of woman. Chap. 2. 28 Of the simple or similarie parts of the body, namely the bones, ligaments, gristles, sinews, pannicles, cords or filaments, veins, arteries and flesh. Chap. 3. 34 Of the compound parts of the body, and first of the feet and legs, and of the arms and hands. Chap. 4. 41 Of the backbone of the marrow thereof: of the ribs, and of other bones of man's body. Chap. 5. 47 Of the share bone and marrow of the bones: of the bones in the head, and of the flesh: of the muscles and of their office. Chap. 6. 52 Of the kernels in the body, and of their sundry uses, especially of the breasts of women, of their beauty and profit in the nourishing of children, and of the generation of milk. Chap. 7. 57 Of the fat and skins of man's body, and of their use: of the hairs thereof. Chap. 8. The second days work. 62 Of the bodily and external senses, especially of touching: of their members, instruments and offices. Chap. 9 67 Of the eyes, and of their excellency, profit and use: of the matter and humours whereof they are made. Chap. 10. 73 Of the tunicles and skins of the eyes: of their form & motions: of their sundry colours: of the sinews whereby they receive sight, and of other parts about the eyes. Chap. 11. 79 Of the ears, and of their composition, office, and use. Chap. 12. 85 Of the divers uses of the tongue: of the instruments necessary both for voice and speech, how there is a double speech, of the form thereof, how the spirit of man is represented thereby. Chap. 13. 91 Of the agreement which the instruments of the voice and speech have with a pair of Organs, what things are to be considered in placing of the lungs next the heart, of the pipes and instruments of the voice. Chap. 14. 96 Of the tongue, and of the nature and office thereof: of the excellency & profit of speech which is the art of the tongue: what is to be considered touching the situation thereof in the head, and near the brain. Chap. 15. 103 Of the office of the tongue in tasting, and in preparing meat for the nourishment of the body: of the teeth, and of their nature and office: of the conduit or pipe that receiveth and swalloweth down meats. Chap. 16. The third days work. 108 OF the sense of taste given to the palal: what tastes are good to nourish the body: of the diversity of them: of hunger and thirst, and of their causes. Chap. 17. 113 Of helps and creatures meet for the preservation and nourishment of the body: how God prepareth them to serve for that purpose: of their use. Chap. 18. 119 Of the nose and of the sense of smelling, and of their profit and use: of the composition matter and form of the nose. Chap. 19 124 Of the use briefly of all the outward senses of man's body, namely in purging the superfluities and ordures of his nose: of the diversity that is in men's faces, and of the image of the mind and heart in them. Chap. 20. 130 Of the nature, faculties and powers of man's soul: of the knowledge which we may have in this life, and how excellent & necessary it is: into what kinds the life and soul are divided. Chap. 21. 136 Of the two natures of which man is compounded how the body is the lodge and instrument of the soul: how the soul may be letted from doing her proper actions by the body, and be separated from it, and yet remain in her perfection. Chap. 22. 142 Of the brain and of the nature thereof: of the sundry kinds of knowledge that are in man: of the similitude that is between the actions and works of the natural virtues of the soul, and of the internal senses. Chap. 23. 147 Of the composition of the brain, with the members and parts thereof: of their offices, and that knowledge which ought to content us touching the principal cause of the virtues and wonderful powers of the soul. Chap. 24. The fourth days work. 148 OF the seat of voluntary motion and sense: of the office and nature of the common sense: of imagination, and of fantasy: & how light and dangerous fantasy is: of the power which both good and bad spirits have to move it. Chap. 25. 158 Of reason and memory, and of their seat, nature & office: of the agreement which all the senses both external and internal have one with another, and of their virtues. Chap. 26. 164 That the internal senses are so distinguished, that some of them may be troubled and hindered, and the rest be safe and whole, according as their places and instruments assigned unto them in the body are sound or perished: and of those that are possessed with devils. Chap. 27. 170 Of the reasonable soul and life, and of virtue: of the understanding and will that are in the soul, and of their dignity and excellency. Chap. 28. 176 Of the variety and contrariety that is found in the opinions, deliberations, counsels, discourses, and iugdements of men, with the cause thereof: and of the good order and end of all discourses. Chap. 29. 182 Of judgement, and of his office after the discourse of reason: and how belief, opinion, or doubting follow it: of the difference that is between them. Chap. 30. 187 Of the means whereby a man may have certain knowledge of those things which he ought to believe and to take for true: of the natural and supernatural light that is in man, and how they bear witness of the image of God in him. Chap. 31. 192 How the virtues and powers of the soul show themselves by little and little, and by degrees: of contemplation, and of the good that is in it: of that true and divine contemplation which we look for after this life. Chap. 32. The fift days work. 198 OF the appetites that are in all living creatures, and namely in man, and of their kinds: and particularly of the natural and sensitive appetite. Chap. 33. 203 Of will and of the divers significations and uses of these words (Reason and Will.) of the actions, freedom, and nature thereof: of the power which reason may have over her. Chap. 34. 208 Of those good things which both men only guided by the light of nature, are able to propound to themselves, and to follow, and they also that are guided by the spirit of God: of the power and liberty of the will in her actions, both external and internal. Chap. 35. 214 Of the distinction that ought to be between the understanding & knowledge, and the will and affections in the soul, and between the scates and instruments which they have in the body: of the agreement that is between the heart and the brain. Chap. 36. 219 Of the nature and composition of the heart, and of the midriff: of the tunicles or skinny coverings of the breast, and of the Pericardion, or Cawl about the heart: of the motion, office and use of the lungs: of the heart, and of the arteries. Chap. 37. 224 Of the substance, situation and counterpoise of the heart: of the nature and use of the vital spirit, and of the forge, vessels and instruments thereof: of the sundry doors and pipes of the heart, and of their uses. Chap. 38. 229 Of the second motion of the heart, which belongeth to the affections of the soul, and of those that go before or follow after judgement: of the agreement that is between the temperature of the body, and the affections of the soul. Chap. 39 233 Of the health and diseases of the soul: of the agreement between corporal and spiritual physic: how necessary the knowledge of the nature of the body and of the soul is for every one. Chap. 40. The sixth days work. 237 OF four things to be considered in the will, and in the power of desiring in the soul: and first of natural inclinations: of self love, and the unruliness thereof. Chap. 41. 241 Of the habit of the soul in the matter of the affections, and of what force it is: of the causes why the affections are given to the soul, with the use of them: of the fountain of virtues and vices. Chap. 42 246 That according to the disposition of the judgement, the affections are more or less moderate or immoderate▪ of the cause of all the motions of the soul and heart: of the variety of affections: of the generation, nature, and kinds of them. Chap. 43. 250 That joy or grief are always joined to the affections: and what joy and grief are properly. Chap. 44. 255 Of the causes why God hath placed these affections of joy and sorrow in the heart: of true and false joy, and of good and bad hope. Chap. 45. 260 Of fear, and of the nature and effects thereof toward the body the mind and the soul, and how it troubleth them: of the true harness and armour against fear. Chap. 46. 265 Of the delight and pleasure that followeth every joy, and of the moderation that is required therein: of divers degrees of pleasures, and how men abuse them, especially those pleasures, which are received by the corporal senses. Chap. 47. 270 Of the comparison of pleasures received by the internal senses: and how men descend by degrees from the best to the basest pleasures: of the difference between the use of spiritual delights and corporal: and how the one chase the other. Chap. 48. The seventh days work. 276 OF the affections of love, of the nature, kinds, and object of it: of the beginning of friendship: of the virtue and force of alluring that is in likeness and in beauty: of the agreement that is between beauty and goodness. Chap. 49. 281 Of other causes why beauty procureth love, and of divers degrees and kinds of beauty: how it is the nature of love always to unite, an what other effects it hath: how love descendeth, and ascendeth not: what power it hath to allure and breed love. Chap. 50. 286 Of desire and coveting, and of the kinds of it: of the infiniteness of men's desires, and what Good is able to satisfy and content it: of the difference between desire and love, and of the utmost limit and end of love. Chap. 51. 291 Of the good things that are in true love, of the divers valuations of love, and of the benefits which it procureth: what knowledge is requisite to allure love, and how one love groweth by another of the friendship that may be both between the good and the bad. Chap. 52. 297 Of favour, reverence, and of honour: of their nature and effects: of those outward signs whereby they show themselves: of pity and compassion, and how agreeable it is to the nature of man. Chap. 53. 302 Of offence in the heart and soul: of the degrees of offence, and of the good and evil that may be in this affection: of contempt that is bred of it, and of mockery, which followeth contempt. Chap. 54. 307 Of anger and of the vehemency and violency thereof: of the difference that is between anger and rancour: of the affection of revenge that accompanieth them: of the motions of the heart in anger, with the effects thereof, wherefore this affection is given to man, and to what use it may serve him. Chap. 55. 313 Of hatred and of the nature and effects thereof of a good kind of hatred, and of the remedy to cure the evil hatred: of envy, and of the kinds and effects thereof: of the difference between good and evil envy. Chap. 56. The eight days work. 319 OF jealousy and of the kinds thereof: how it may be either a vice or a virtue: how true zeal, true jealousy and indignation proceed of love: of their natures, and why these affections are given to man. Chap. 57 324 Of revenge, cruelty and rage, and what agreement there is among them: what shame and blushing is, and why God hath placed these affections in man: and of the good and evil that is in them. Chap. 58. 330 Of pride, with the consideration thereof aswell in nature entire as corrupted: of the original thereof, and of such as are most inclined thereunto: what vices accompany it: how great a poison it is, and what remedy there is for it. Chap. 59 335 Of the natural powers of the soul, and what sundry virtues they have in the nourishment of the body: of their order and offices: of their agreement and necessary use: where the vegetative soul is placed in the body, and what virtue it hath to augment the same. Chap. 60. 341 What instruments the soul useth in the body, about the natural works of nourishing and augmenting: of the ventricle of stomach, and of the figure, orifices and filamentes it hath: of the stomach, and of what substance and nature it is: of the causes of hunger and of appetite: of the inferior orifice. Chap. 61. 347 Of the intalles and bowels, and of their names and offices: of the nature of the three smaller guts, and of the other three that are greater: of the instructions which we may learn by these things. Chap. 62. 353 Of the Mesentery and mesaraeum: of the meseraical veins, of the Pancreas or sweet bread, and of their nature and office: of the liver, and of his nature and office: of the roots, bodies & branches of the veins: of their names and uses, and of the similitude between them and the arteries. Chap. 63. 358 Of the blood, and of other humours in the body: of their diversity and nature, and of the agreement they have with the elements: of the similitude that is betwixt the great garden of this great world, and that of the little world, touching the nourishment of things contained and preserved in them. Chap. 64. The ninth days work. 363 OF the vapours that ascend up to the brain, and of the waters and clouds contained therein: and in what perils men are 〈◊〉: why the soul and blood are put one for another: of the temperature of the humours necessary for the health and life of the body: of the causes of health and of diseases, and of life and death. Chap. 65. 368 Of the uses and commodities of the humours joined with the blood, and what vessels are assigned unto them in the body, and of their nature and offices, and first of the choleric humour, and of the spleen: then of the phlegmatic humour, and of the kidneys and other vessels, which it hath to purge by. Chap. 66. 373 Of the names whereby the humours of the body are commonly called, with the causes wherefore: of the comparison between the corruption and temperature of the humours of the body, and between the manners and the affections of the soul: of the means whereby the humours corrupt, and of the fevers and diseases engendered thereby: of the sundry natural temperatures in every one. Chap. 67. 379 Of the divers temperatures and complexions of men, according to the nature of humours that bear most sway in them: of the disposition whereunto they are naturally moved by them either to virtues or vices: of the means to correct the vices and defects that may be in our natural inclinations. Chap. 68 383 Of the restoration and reparation of all natures created by the generative power and virtue that is in them, and namely in man: what generation is, and what the generative power of the soul is: what the seed is, and how generation proceedeth of strength and of infirmity. Chap. 69. 388 Of the powers of the generative virtue and of their offices: of the principal cause why God gave to man the power of generation: in what sense the reins are taken for the seat of generation: how we ought rightly to consider of the generation of man. Chap. 70. 393 Of the fashion of a child in the womb, and how the members are framed one after another in the mother's belly: of the time and days within which a child is perfectly fashioned. Chap. 71. 398 Of childbirth and the natural causes thereof: of the great providence of God appearing therein: of the image of our eternal nativitic, represented unto us in our mortal birth. Chap. 72. The tenth days work. 404 WHy God created man naked, and with less natural defence than he did all other living creatures: how many ways he recompenseth this nakedness: of the general beauty of the whole body of man, joined with profit and commodity. Chap. 73. 409 Whether the life of the body can proceed eyter of the matter or of the composition, form and figure, or of the qualities thereof, or else of the harmony, conjunction and agreement of all these: whether any of these, or all of them together can be the soul: of the length and shortness, of the divers degrees and ages, and of the end of man's life: of death, and of the causes both of life and death: of the difference that is between natural and supernatural Philosophy in the consideration of things. Chap. 74. 414 Of the causes generally of the length and shortness of bodily life: of natural and of violent death: in what manner the life of man consisteth in his breath: of the principal things required to life, and without which it cannot be: of the difference betwixt the life of men and the life of beasts: of the image of the spiritual death in the corporal: of the true comfort which we ought to have therein. Chap. 75. 420 Of the chief consolations, which the wisest among the Pagans and Infidels could draw from their human reason, and natural Philosophy against death: of the blasphemies used by Atheists and Epicures against God and nature: what nature is, and who they be that attribute unto it that which they ought to attribute to God. Chap. 76. 426 That there is but one soul in every several body: that one and the some soul hath in it all those virtues and powers, whose effects are daily seen: of the seat of the soul in the body, and of the principal instrument thereof of the union of the body and soul: of the divers degrees of nature, and of the excellency that is in it: of the fountains and bounds of all the powers and virtues of the soul. Chap. 77. 432 Of the nature and variety of the animal spirits, & how they are only instruments of the soul, and not the soul itself: of the nature of those bodies wherein the soul may dwell and work: of the difference that is, not only between the soul and the instrument by which it worketh, but also between the instruments themselves, and their natures and offices, and which of them are nearest or farthest off: of the degrees that are in the union and conjunction of the soul with the body. Chap. 78. 438 Of the divisions of man made in the holy scriptures, aswell in respect of the soul as of the body in what significations the names of soul, spirit and heart are used therein, and the causes why: of the entire sanctification of man: how the soul is taken for the life, and for the members and instruments of nourishment and for nourishment itself. Chap. 79. 444 What is meant by a living soul, what by a sensual and natural body, and what by a spiritual body: how the name of soul is taken for all the desires of the flesh, and for all things belonging to this life: and not only for the whole person alive, but also for the person being dead, and for a dead 〈…〉 for the spirit sep●rate from the body. Chap. 80. The Eleventh days work 490 WHether the soul of man is engendered with the body, and of the same substance that the body is of: or whether it be created by itself and of another substance: whether it be needful for us to know what the soul is, and what is the e●●ence thereof, or only to know of what quality it is, with the works and effects thereof. Chap. 81. 495 Whether there be any thing mortal in the soul of man: of the distinction between the soul and the powers of it: of the opinion of Philosophers, and what agreement is between them touching the soul of brute beasts, and the nature and substance of it: of their opinion that derive the soul of man and the soul of beasts from one sou●taine: of them that ascend higher, and of their reason's Chap. 82. 499 Of the opinion of Galen, of Plato, and of Aristotle touching the substance and nature of man's soul: of the opinion of Occ●m touching the vegetative and sensitue power thereof, and of the distinction of souls he maketh in man: of the sentence of the Platonists, and of Origen touching the creation, birth, and nature of the soul: of the conjunction of the soul with the body, and the estate thereof in the same. Chap. 83. 503 Of the opinion of the Platonists and some others touching the substance of men's souls: in what sense not only the Poets and heathen Philosophers, but also Saint Paul have said that men were the generation and lineage of God: of their error that say, that souls are of the very substance of God: of the transmigration of souls according to the opinion of the same Philosophers. Chap. 84. 509 The chief causes, as learned men think, 〈…〉 Pythagoras' and 〈…〉 transmigration of souls, and transformation of bodies: the ancient opinion of the jews touching the same thing. Chap. 85. 515 Of the Pythagoreans of these days amongst the Christians, and of their foolish opinions: of the opinions of many Doctors and and Divines touching the creation and ordinary generation of men's souls: of the moderation that ought to be kept in that matter: of the cause of the filthiness and corruption of man's soul. Chap. 86. 5●● Of those powers and properties, which the soul of man hath common with the soul of beast●● of those powers and virtues which are proper and peculiar to itself, according to the Philosophers: of the difference and agreement that is between human philosophy and christian doctrine touching th●se things. Chap. 87. 5●6 How men can have no certain resolution of the immortality of the soul, but by the word of God: of the perverseness of Epicures and Atheists in this 〈◊〉: of the chief causes that hinder 〈◊〉 from believing the immortality of the soul, and of their blockishness and evil judgement therein: how we must seek for the image of God after which man was created in his soul. Chap. 88 The twelfth days work. 5●● OF those who desire the return of souls departed to testify their immortality: what witness hath been sent us of God out of another world to resolve us therein. Chap. 89. 53● Of natural reasons whereby the immortality of souls may be proved against Epicures and Atheists: and first of the argument taken from the faculty of knowledge which the soul hath, and from that knowledge of eternity which 〈…〉: how it appeareth, that it is not begotten of this corruptible nature, because it ascendeth up unto God: and how by a special benefit of God, it is daily created, and not by the virtue of nature. Chap. 90. 541 Of the argument for the immortality of the soul, that may be taken from that natural desire thereof & of perpetuity which is in it: of another argument to the same purpose, of the desire which men have to continue their name and memory for ever: an argument to the same end taken from the apprehension and terror which men may have both of the death of the body: and also of the soul and spirit. Chap. 91. 546 Of the agreement that may be taken from the delights and pleasures of the soul to prove the immortality thereof: an argument to the same end taken from the insatiable desires & pleasures of men, even from such as are most carnal: of the testimony which they may find even in their vices to prove the immortality of their soul. Chap. 92. 551 Of the testimony that men have of the immortal nature of the soul in their very body, by the composition and frame thereof: of that which is in the motion and rest of their soul: how the creation of the whole world should be vain, and how there should be no providence of God, no religion, no divine justice, if the soul were mortal: of the multitude and qualities of the witnesses that stand for the immortality thereof. Chap. 93. 556 Of another argument for the immortality of the soul taken from that natural desire which men have of knowledge: of Aristotle's opinion touching the nature and immortality of the soul: of other reasons of Philosophers to prove that the spirit cannot be a corruptible and mortal nature: and how just men should be more miserable, and should have more occasion to fear and to eschew death, than the unjust and wicked, if the soul were mortal. Chap. 94. 563 Of that praise and reward which wisdom and virtue may receive of man in this world: how miserable it is ●f there be no better prepared for them elsewhere: how death would be more grievous and lamentable to the best learned and wisest men, then to the ignorant and foolish, if the soul were mortal how the best & most certain judgement of men is for the immortality of the soul: of them who not believing the same, say that it is good for men to be in such an error. Chap. 95. 569 Of those internal testimonies, which all men carry within themselves, to convince them that doubt of the immortality of the soul, and of the judgement to come, which shall be in eternal happiness for the good, and perpetual torment for the evil: how the very heathen acknowledged as much by reasons taken from the testimonies of nature. Chap. 96. The thirteenth days work. 575 OF the testimonies which every one may take from his conscience: of that fear unto which all men are naturally subject to prove the immortality of the soul & a judgement of God upon the just and unjust: how that which the Atheists say, that fear causeth gods amongst men serveth to overthrow their damnable opinion. Chap. 97. 581 Whether Epicures and Atheists be reasonable beasts, yea or no, and what reasons they bring to overthrow the immortality of the soul: of the false opinion of Pliny touching the same, and of his frivolous and brutish reasons to this purpose: of the brutish conclusion unbeseeming the whole race of mankind, which he maketh of this matter, and of the judgement of God upon him. Chap. 98. 588 Of them who say, that we cannot know by the light of nature but that the soul is mortal: of them that allege a place of Solomon against the immortality of the soul: how we ought to consider of the judgements of God upon Epicures and Atheists: how the absurdities which follow their doctrine declare plainly the grossness of it: of the force of those arguments that were produced before for the immortality of the soul. Chap. 99 594 Of the image of God in the soul of man, and of the image of the world in man's body: of the conjunction that is between God, the Angels, and men of the sundry degrees of Good that are therein: of those lessons and instructions which we ought to receive from the wonderful composition and conjunction of the soul and body. Chap. 100 FINIS. THE FORESPEACH OF THE INTERSPEAKERS IN this Academy, wherein is handled the cause of their future discourses touching the natural history of man.. The names of the discoursers. ASER, which signifieth Felicity. AMANA, Truth. ARAM, Excellency. ACHITOB, Brother of goodness. ASER. My companions, I greatly bewail the misery of our age, wherein so many Epicures and Atheists live, as are daily discovered amongst us in all estates and callings. True it is, that the disagreement in matters of religion amongst them that bear the name of Christians is very great, and causeth much trouble in the Church: nevertheless, I doubt not but that agreement might soon be made, if the word of God only might be the judge of true & false religion. For all that fear God, and are careful to do nothing contrary to their duty, that account the holy scriptures to be the true doctrine of the spirit of God, and are assuredly persuaded, that there is another life after this and a judge before whom they must appear, they, I say, are not so hardly induced to peace and concord, but that a man may hope well of them. But they that fear nothing, that call all things into question, that esteem all religion to be opinions only tormenting men's brains: they likewise that stiffly resist even the truth itself, whereof their own consciences convince them, labouring as much as lieth in them to extinguish not only the light of God within them, but that also which they learn in his word, such monsters, I say, will trouble all Christendom more than the contentions about religion, unless the goodness of God provide some convenient remedy for the same. For they must be taught to believe one God, one jesus Christ, the immortality of the soul, the resurrection of the body, a second everlasting life full of joy and happiness for good & just men, but full of grief and pain for the wicked and unjust: generally, they must be taught to believe whatsoever we learn in the holy scriptures concerning the creation and end of every nature. These things being spiritual and heavenly cannot be seen nor comprehended without a celestial and supernatural light, nor without spiritual eyes, joined with the virtue and power of the spirit of God, who only is able to clarify our eyes and to give them sight. For albeit God gave spiritual eyes to man, when he endued him with a reasonable and understanding soul, yet they are even blind through sin, if they always have not God that great and everlasting Sun to illuminate them with his divine light: as the eyes of the body remain in darkness, when bodily light is taken from them. Matth. 15. 14. iohn 9 39 Hereupon they are called blind in holy scripture, that have not the true knowledge of God by the light of his word. For although they that are most ignorant have some little knowledge and sense of the divinity by that small remnant of natural light, which man received at his first creation, nevertheless because this sparkle is so small in regard of that darkness, which filleth the mind of man, it is not sufficient to lead them to God, and to the right way of salvation. Therefore they soon go astray and wander hither and thither, and for the most part follow superstition in place of religion, and lies in stead of truth: because it is an easy matter for the devil to disguise his inventions under a false show of piety, that they may not discern between truth and falsehood, between that which God liketh, and which he disliketh. For seeing the spark of natural light in man's understanding is so small, there needeth no great troubling of the spirit, neither any great impediments to be cast in his way to confound and amaze him, and to take away, or utterly to overturn his judgement, whereby to mak● him as unable to judge of the truth, as a blind man is to judge of colours. But they are in far worse case that voluntarily separate themselves from all truth, both natural and supernatural. For they easily believe that, which the Epicures long since taught against the immortality of souls, and against the providence of God towards men: insomuch that they hold this for most certain, that the soul perisheth as the body doth, and that there is no God that intermeddleth in the government of human affairs, but that they are guided either by fortune, or by prudence, or by the folly of men, according as matters fall out. I quake to think that such monsters are to be found amongst them that berare the name of Christians, and have in former times received the marks and seals of Christianity in the Church of jesus Christ. But my quaking is doubled when I consider, that many of them that profess learning and human philosophy, and that are thought to have most skilful sharp and subtle wits, are not only infected with this execrable Atheism, but profess it, open a school thereof, and know how to poison many with it. For as there was never yet opinion, error or heresy so strange or monstrous in the world that hath not always found men enough to receive it, so long as there were Authors and masters to set it abroach, so these professors of Atheism are never without great store of disciples: because after this manner God punisheth the curiosity, ingratitude, and perverseness of men, the contempt of his word and hatred of the truth, which is commonly in them, as also the pleasure they take in vanity and lies. Therefore God by his just judgement giveth them over into a reprobate sense, so that they cannot but always reject the truth, and embrace error and lying, as he often threateneth them by the mouth of his Prophets and Apostles. Esay 29. 14. 2. tim. 3. 13. 2. thes. 2. 10, 11, 12. Examples hereof we see daily in such as think themselves the wisest men, who have this in their cogitation (if they dare not speak it openly) that it belongeth not to men of wit to believe in God and his word, but to such as are simple and foolish: not to these great and noble spirits that fly above the clouds, who in truth know more than they should, to bring them to that place of weeping and gnashing of teeth. We are to live (my companions) amongst such kind of men, and I suppose that ye, as well as myself, have heard some of them speak: especially since of late times the service of Princes hath longer retained us near unto them, than we were wont in our young years when the study of good letters did wholly possess us. Therefore we ought to be very desirous to fortify ourselves daily with strong and powerful reasons against whatsoever we may hear uttered by these scorners of all piety: not for fear that we shall at any time be deceived by them (for I am most assured of the graces and gifts, which we have received from God) but that we may have abundantly wherewith to resist the vain and weak arguments of these deceivers, when we light among them, especially in the company of ignorant folks, whom they may easily draw to their side if we should be silent. Besides, although we should not be able to confound them by reason of their obstinacy, yet we shall at the least give them occasion to think more seriously of their error. I know well what small account they make of the testimonies of holy scriptures, and how they esteem of them but as of fables and dreams made by some doters and idle persons: for so they call the patriarchs, Prophets, and Apostles. As for the writings of Philosophers, they will believe Epieurus, Pliny, Lucretius, Lucian, and others of their sect, who deny all divinity, and the immortality of souls. But they will give no credit to any thing that we fetch from the saying of Pythagoras, and Socrates, and from the writings of Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, Plutarch, and an infinite number of other excellent Philosophers of all nations, who have all taught that there is a divine providence and justice, and that the soul is immortal. What shall we say then? where shall we seek for arguments which they will vouchsafe to hear? I have heard them say sometimes, that they would give credit to natural Philosophy in those things wherein the causes are proved by their effects. Now if we take this course to prove unto them a godhead, his providence, his future judgement, and the immortality of the soul, which way soever we turn ourselves, either upward or downward, on the right hand or on the left, we shall find testimonies every where, which they may not in any wise reject. For we have nature, the necessity of causes, proportion and similitude, the life, decency, and dignity of man, the goodness of God, the utility that cometh by mankind proceeding from the bounty of God, all which with one common consent, and as it were with one voice do teach & cry, that there is one God creator & governor of the whole world, and that the soul of man cannot be mortal. Hereof it is, that the holy Ghost doth often propound unto us in holy scriptures this whole visible world, as a great book of nature, and of true natural divinity, all the creatures as preachers and general witnesses of God their creator, of his works and of his glory. Nevertheless there are but few that have such eyes as are requisite for the reading of this book, or fit ears to hear the voice, and to understand the sermons of these natural preachers, no not amongst them that are most skilful and best studied in the searching out of nature, and have greatest knowledge of natural things, of liberal arts, and of all human philosophy. For there are as many, yea more, to whom in this respect the self same thing is befallen, which long since befell to the first and greatest philosophers, unto whom Saint Paul objecteth this by way of reproach, Rom. 1. 18, 19 etc. that when they knew God by the works of the creation of the world (wherein he maketh his power, his eternal and invisible Godhead, as it were visible unto us) they did not glorify him as God, but withheld the truth in unrighteousness. And yet it will not be a hard matter for us (God being our helper) to make it manifest by the consideration, not only of the whole frame, but of the least creature therein, especially of the body and soul of man (who is a little world) and of the creation, nature, dignity and excellency of both his parts, how not only the simplest and most ignorant may and aught to learn to know God & his providence over every nature, and so to honour and to glorify him, as he hath bound them thereunto, but also how the wisest ought to direct all their skill and knowledge which they have in natural philosophy, to this self same end. As for those that make open profession of Atheism, and refuse the testimonies, which God in his word setteth down unto us, of himself, of his providence, and of all things belonging to the salvation and sovereign good of men, they shall have yet, will they nill they, enough probable reasons to prove all these things, so that we may easily convince and prove unto them by these testimonies, which every one of them carrieth about in himself, both the immortality of the soul, as also the religion of God and of his providence. For these three things are so linked together, that in no wise they cannot, neither aught to be separated: so that he which admitteth the one, must of necessity approve the others, and if he doubt of the one, he rejecteth all. As therefore (my companions) some years passed after our return from war, we took occasion upon the corruption that then was in all the estates of France, and the forlorn manners which reigned in every one, to meet together and to discourse in our Academy of the institution in good manners, and of the means to live well and happily, to the end that in renewing the memory of our former studies we might begin to direct our life to that principal end, which the Philosophers appoint thereof, namely virtuous actions: So I think that even now we have an other good occasion to read in this great book of nature, and to bring one to another whatsoever we have learned concerning the nature of man. For first we have leave in regard of our Prince's service, to recreate ourselves for a while in our own houses. Again, the self same place where we met so fitly, and wherein we began our former discourses of Philosophy, doth invite us to proceed in them. Moreover, we doubt not of the combat, which is prepared for us when we shall visit our neighbours and friends, amongst whom many profess themselves better Philosophers then good Christians. We know also into what straits we have been brought in our master's courts: and let us not hope that the peril will be less when their service shall recall us near unto them. Wherefore we shall do well to arm ourselves now with all the reasons and testimonies which we have in nature against that Epicurean doctrine, whose only drift is, by denying the immortality of the soul to turn men from all religion and fear of God. For thus doing, we shall not only greatly profit ourselves, but them also, who being in danger to be seduced by such deceivers shall hear us now and then reason with them: who feeling themselves convinced by natural reasons wherein they supposed to have greatest strength, will not be so bold to vomit their poison before others, but shall be constrained to d●gest it by themselves ●o heir own confusion and overthrow. I desire therefore (my companions) to know how you stand affected towards this my intent and purpose. AMANA. If ever there were age, wherein those signs of the end of the world, Matth. 24. which the spirit of God hath foretold us, have been seen, it is this, wherein they are so apparent, that there is no one body, if he be not deprived of all discourse of reason, who doth not acknowledge them very evidently. For we are fallen into those times wherein store of false prophets are arisen, & have seduced many, wherein all iniquity is increased, and charity altogether frozen. Which thing hath discovered not only many false religions, but also Atheism, which is far worse. For without doubt they that are altogether void of religion, are farther off from true religion than they that follow one that is false. And yet there are as many, yea more at this day that do openly show themselves to be Atheists & Epicures, than there are of those that are taken for good Christians. If in outward show they profess religion, it is but to cover themselves under the vale thereof, to the end that men should not take them for such as they are indeed, as also that they might keep company with the best. But in their hearts, & amongst their companions they mock & laugh at all religion, at all fear of God, & whatsoever else is taught us by his word touching any other life than this, wherein joy is prepared for the good, and torments for the wicked. Now if there were nothing else to do, but to convince such men of error & lying, the matter were easy: for they carry all their witnesses and their condemnation with them: but they are not so easily confounded. For a man is convinced, when he is constrained to acknowledge in his conscience that he hath no reason whereby he is able to withstand & gainsay that truth, which is showed unto him, & which condemneth him. But if he be obstinate, headstrong, wickedly given & froward, he will never leave kicking against the prick, but persevere in his headin●sse and obstinacy, & in his maliciousness and perverseness. For when reason faileth him, he armeth himself with impudency; like to a bold murderer, or to a shameless harlot that will blush at nothing. Therefore Chrysostome said not without reason, that heretics may well be convinced, but not confounded. For they do but wipe their mouth, as Solomon speaketh of an harlot, which presently after boasteth that she is an honest woman. But howsoever wicked men strive to blindfold their understanding, & to harden their heart against the judgement of God, yet it is never propounded unto them, but will they nill they, they feel themselves pricked and pressed with some sense thereof. True it is, that it is not so with them as the children of God are touched, as they of whom it is written, that after they had heard the preaching of Saint Peter, Acts 2. 37. they were pricked in their hearts, whereby they were led to true repentance, because they had been touched to the quick by the word. But it is said of the reprobate and of them that are hardened, of which sort are all Atheists, that God hath given them a pricking spirit, by reason of their bitter h●●●t, which causeth them always to increase in bitterness, to fret and chafe against God, when they feel themselves pressed by his word and by his judgement. Therefore I am of opinion (my companions) that for this cause, and for those reason which ASER recited unto us, we are now to call to memory all the testimonies that we can bring of God & of his providence, of his judgement, and of the immortality of men's souls, by the consideration of the nature of man, and of his parts, the body and soul: expecting when sometime hereafter God shall give us grace to contemplate the self same things in every nature, and in all this great visible world. For no doubt but such kind of contemplation will furnish us sufficiently with arguments to convince all Epicures and Atheists, & to constrain them to acknowledge in their conscience a divine justice, Psal. 19 1. and an eternal life. The heavens (saith the Prophet) declare the glory of God, & the firmament showeth the work of his hands. This high ornament, this firmament so clear, and face of heaven so sumptuous to behold, is a thing full of greatness. Therein we may behold the Master builder thereof, clothed with the whole frame as with a garment, which is a sure testimony of his power and virtue. He who cannot fall within the compass of man's gross senses, maketh himself as it were visible in his terrible works. What we learn by the view of the world. This world is unto us a learned school, wherein the praise of God doth preach itself. It is a goodly large & rich shop, wherein this sovereign and most excellent workman layeth open all his works, to this end, that he might be known by them. It is a temple, wherein there is no creature so little, but it is as it were a similitude and resemblance of the creator thereof, to show and manifest him unto us. In a word, it is a Theatre, where the divine essence, his justice, his providence, his love, his wisdom have their working by a wonderful virtue in every creature, even from the highest heaven unto the centre of the earth. Ask the beasts (saith job) and they shall teach thee, and the fowls of the heaven and they shall tell thee: or speak to the earth and it shall show thee, or the fishes of the sea, and they shall declare unto thee. Who is ignorant of all these, but that the hand of the Lord hath made these? But truly there shineth in man more than in all other creatures, a beam of the divinity, & a proportionable image and similitude of his nature, in that God hath framed him of an immortal soul, capable of understanding, & of reason, to make him partaker of his eternal glory and felicity. Psal. 8. 1. 4, 5, 6. O Lord (saith the Psalmist) who marvelous is thy name in all the would! What is man that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man that thou visitest him? Thou hast made him a little lower than God, and crowned him with glory and worship. Thou hast made him to have dominion in the works of thine hands: th●● hast put all things under his feet. But withal, as God hath more expressly created man after his own image, than any other visible nature, and therefore more excellent than the heavens or the earth, or any thing contained in them, so he hath singularly bound him to know and to honour him, in which thing he hath placed his sovereign Good. But man being exalted by God to that honour, that he might attain to so great felicity, could not conceive or acknowledge it: which is the cause that we see so many, who following the corruption of man's nature, are not only become like to brute beasts, Psal. 32. 9 Isai. 1. 3. but much more unthankful, yea far more forgetful & miserable than they are. The Ox knoweth his owner, and the Ass his master's crib, but man will not know God his creator, of whom he holdeth body, soul, and goods. What a horrible shame is it, that the Ox & the Ass, which are such dull beasts, should give greater honour and obedience to man, of whom they receive their food, than man doth to God, of whom he hath and daily doth receive so many benefits? Let us make haste therefore (my companions) to go to the school of nature. For if we profit well therein, I doubt not but we shall easily come to the knowledge of the creator thereof, and of the chief end of our being. ARAM. All things created have their proper motion, Every creature hath his proper motion and disposition. which they follow according to that love that every one of them beareth to his natural disposition. For the heavens continue always constant in their natural motions. And as the fire and air naturally love to be above, and therefore draw thitherward without ceasing: so the water and earth love to keep below, so that they always bend that ways. So that none of the elements can find any stay or resting place until they be come to those places which God hath appointed for them. Plants cast their roots downward, and their branches upward, every one following therein his nature. For a plant being to receive his nourishment from the earth by means of his roots, which are unto it in stead of mouths and veins to suck and draw necessary sustenance for the preservation of itself, sendeth them always into the ground, and disperseth them all about according as they can find nourishment: but the stalk, stock, branches and boughs, which are to be nourished in the air, always disperse themselves, draw and ascend upward. Beasts having sense, do much more show that liking which they have to follow their natural inclination. For we see that by their proper apprehension and appetite, they are driven hither and thither to seek and follow after that which they desire and love, being agreeable to their nature: and to fly from that which they hate, as being contrary thereunto. Likewise men, who only of all other mortal creatures were by creation made partakers of reason, have their proper motion convenient to their nature. For being created to attain to that sovereign and eternal Good, which is set before them in the divine essence, they have received from that infinite goodness power and virtue to wish for that Good, with a desire to apply and join themselves thereunto. Wherefore all men are naturally pricked and driven forward with a love and desire tending to that Good: aswell because of that natural agreement which they have with the same Idea of Good, which is God (their souls being of a celestial and immortal essence) as also because this Good is of that nature that it ought to be loved of every nature, yea so much the more loved as there is greater measure of reason in the creature to know it. The difference between the natural and supernatural desire of man to good. But this desire naturally engrafted in every man's heart, which provoketh and keepeth men in a love and liking of every thing which they think meet to content and satisfy them, and which they seek after in divers things as their affections lead them, differeth much from that desire, which by heavenly grace is planted a new in those, whom God according to his good pleasure and always just will, hath chosen and elected to everlasting happiness, and pricked forward, guideth and leadeth them to that principal end for which they were created. For although the other sort of men, being heirs of that corruption that hath overspread the whole nature of man by the means of the sin of the first father of all, be driven forward in soul and spirit, yea many times not thinking thereof, to their natural desire of obtaining that Good: yet they seek it as blind men that go by groping, but cannot find it, because the darkness of error & ignorance, wherewith their understanding is overwhelmed, hindereth them from looking directly towards that Good, and causeth them to wander out of that only way that could lead them unto it. So that in stead of looking unto God, and to celestial and heavenly things, they stay themselves about earthly & corruptible things, unto which the nearer they labour to approach, the farther off they are from the end of their wishes & desires. For this cause the blessed Apostle saith, 1. Cor. 2. 14. that the natural man perceiveth not the things of the spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. But they that are illuminated, and guided by heavenly and supernatural light, and whose understanding is framed by the spirit of God, to receive It, know then how they are carried by their proper motion to the contemplation of the true Good, in the enjoying whereof they shall once for ever be made partakers of a felicity, Isay. 64. 4. which eye never saw, nor ear heard, neither came into man's heart: I mean, when by dissolving the mortal tabernacle of this body, they shall be clothed with glorious immortality, and shall see him face to face who is all in all: in whom they shall be satisfied, according to the doctrine of the Prophet, Psal. 16. 11. In thy presence is the fullness of joy, and at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. This is that (my companions) which ought to whet us on to direct our sight straight to that place whereat we ought to level, namely to heaven, and not look to any other thing then to God, who is the scope, which we desire and shall one day attain unto. Now if we can not see this white so far off, and much less come unto it without direction, GOD is come near unto us in the person of his Son jesus Christ, who being the brightness of his glory, hath left us his word for a sure guide, beside so many testimonies of his providence and goodness over all creatures, How we may see God. that we daily behold him as it were visible in them. For the ruled motions of the heavens, the wonderful workmanship of so many starry tents, the connexion, agreement, force, virtue and beauty of the Elements: the situation, firmness, & spreading of the earth amidst the waters, and so many sundry natures and creatures in this whole frame of the world: all these things I say, are so many interpreters to teach us that God is the efficient cause of them, and that he is manifested in them and by them, as their final cause. But the glass wherein we may yet better behold him is man: in whom shineth and is imprinted an image of the divine essence, which is not found again in any visible creature; & that is reason and understanding, whereof by creation he was made partaker aswell as the Angels. This is the chief and principal work of the creation, whereby God meant to give such a being to his creatures & spiritual natures, to the end he might communicate his wisdom & goodness with them, & thereby lead them to eternal felicity. Wherefore if it be good for men to consider the works of God in his creatures, and in their nature created by him, and that for the reasons and ends declared by us, it is better and more necessary that they should do the same thing in their own person & nature, wherein there are almost as many marvelous works of the almighty power of God, as there are in the whole frame besides, and in all other creatures. Therefore that sentence which saith, Know thyself, was not without good reason so much praised and renowned amongst all the ancient Greek and Latin Philosophers, as that which is worthy to be taken for a heavenly oracle, & a sentence pronounced by the mouth of God. For whosoever shall know himself well, cannot fail to know God his creator, and to honour him as he ought, if he follow the chief end for which man was created, as well as the residue of the creatures. Plato in his Phaedrus, and in the tenth book of Laws, How Plato came to the knowledge of God. searching and enquiring by the means of motion, what was the substance, nature and immortality of the soul, attained to the understanding of the divine essence. Aristotle also taking the same way in his 8. book of natural Philosophy, showeth that he knew God under the name of the first mover, who was perpetual and unmovable. But we may attain to the knowledge of God & of ourselves, a great deal better than all the Philosophers could, who were ignorant of the true beginning and end of things, if we be guided by the word, which is the light of the truth, and whereof all the human philosophy of the wisest that were, is but a li●●e shadow. Now then, if under this heavenly guide we feed our spirits with a doctrine that teacheth man to know himself well, we begin at that science which of all other is most necessary, profitable, and pleasant: I say necessary, as that which guideth and leadeth us as it were by the hand to find out God; profitable, because it bringeth a marvelous commodity to this present life, both in regard of bodily health, as also of ruling all our actions according to virtue; and pleasant, because a man may see therein as it were in a sacred temple all the images of the wonderful works of the world. ACHITOB. I cannot but greatly commend those Philosophers that reprehended and condemned them, who spent all their time only in the contemplation of heaven and earth, and of the nature of other creatures, and in the mean while descended not into themselves, to know themselves and their nature, but especially their soul. For what will it profit a man to take so great pains as to measure the whole world, and to compass on every side all the elementary region, to know the things that are contained in them, and their nature, and yet in the mean time he can not measure or know himself being but alittle handful of earth? For although the knowledge of the rest of the creatures that are in this great visible world, will greatly help to lead him to the knowledge of God the Creator, nevertheless he shall never be able to know him well, if withal he know not himself. The knowledge of God and of ourselves joined together. Yea these two knowledges are so joined together, that it is very hard matter to sever them. For as a man can not know himself if he know not God, so he cannot know God well, if in like sort he know not himself. So that I take this for most certain, that neither Astronomy, Geometry, Geography, or Cosmography, nor any other Mathematical science is so necessary for man, as that whereby he may learn to know himself well, & to measure himself well by the measure of his own nature, that he may thereby know how to contain himself within the limits thereof. As for Mathematicians, natural Philosophers & Physicians, who bestow their travail in the knowledge of nature and natural things, and in the mean time forget God and themselves, whereas they ought to learn both the one and the other, by that knowledge that God hath given them of his works, I say they are not worthy to be taken for natural Philosophers, Physicians or Mathematicians, but rather for blockheaded beasts. In my opinion they behave themselves, as if a man should be always occupied in looking upon his house, and handling of his movables and household stuff, and in the mean time did not put them to those principal and special uses, for which they ought to serve, but were altogether forget full of himself, of his wife, and of his children. Moreover concerning Physicians, if their care to know their own soul, with the nature and parts thereof, be not more to minister that food and physic which is necessary for it to live well and happily, and that for ever, then to know the nature of men's bodies that they may cure others, it may worthy be said unto them, Physician heal thyself. For if he be worthily derided that taketh in hand the cure of other men and cannot heal himself, or at the least hath no care to do it, surely that man is well worthy to be had in greater derision that is more careful, not only of his own, but also of other men's bodies, than he is of his own soul, whereby he differeth from brute beasts, and is made partaker of an immortal nature. Wherefore it is very requisite, that all students in natural philosophy should profit so well in the study thereof, as to be able to turn it into true natural divinity, whereby they may learn to know God their creator, in that nature which he hath created to this end to make himself seen and known therein to all men. We have therefore good cause (my companions) to bestow all possible pains & travail, that we may proceed on in so necessary & profitable a knowledge. Two books that reach us to know God. Wherefore we must lay before our eyes two books which God hath given unto us to instruct us by, and to lead us to the knowledge of himself, namely the book of nature, and the book of his word, which we must join both together, as also that doctrine, which is set forth unto us in them concerning the knowledge of ourselves, especially of the soul, which is the true man. For the first book would stand us in small stead without the second, as we see it daily by experience, yea every one of us hath trial thereof in himself. Therefore God of his great mercy hath added the second book unto the first, to supply the want that is in our nature through sin. For if man had not sinned, this book of nature would have sufficed to have kept him always in the knowledge, contemplation; and obedience of God his creator. For than he should himself have carried the book whole and perfect imprinted in his heart and mind: neither should his soul have needed any teacher to know to self, but in itself it should have clearly beheld and contemplated itself, so long as she preserved ●er first light and abode in that harmony wherein God had created her. But now that she is in the body, as it were some excellent picture of Apelles fallen into a sink of mire, covered and compassed about with thick mists, The necessity of the word and obscure darkness, it is very needful that we should have another new light, brought unto us from heaven, which is not natural as the first but supernatural. For this cause God hath farther given us this second book, of which I spoke even now, by means whereof and by the virtue of his holy spirit, he communicateth unto us as much celestial and heavenly light as is needful for the knowledge of ourselves and of his high Majesty. Being therefore guided by the spirit of God, whereby our spirit doth see and contemplate, let us read in these two books, & diligently note in them the parts, and powers, force and virtue aswell of the body as of the soul of man, especially the immortality thereof: whereby we shall make the way easy, for us to walk and sport our minds hereafter in the large and goodly fields of the whole world, by discoursing of all natures contained therein, if it shall please God to give us grace, as he hath given us wills to perform it. True it is, that we have now taken in hand a very long piece of work, and not greatly necessary in respect of the principal cause of our meeting together, if we meant here to make an entire and perfect Anatomy of man's body. This duty belongeth to Physicians; which we will not take upon us: but it shall suffice us to open a gap to the consideration, first of the matter whereof the body is made, and of the diversity thereof: then of the form which God hath given unto it: and lastly of the profit and use of them both. For through a little understanding and knowledge, which we may have of these things, if we consider them as we ought, we shall have great occasion to marvel at the work of God in the frame of the body: yea we shall see therein store of testimonies of his almighty power, knowledge, wisdom, goodness and providence. But as for the soul, we will labour to make her to behold herself in the glass of her wonderful actions, so far forth as she is able to contemplate herself, and to measure her greatness by her own compass. Wherefore we will here make as it were an Anatomy of the soul, and of all her parts, powers, virtues, and faculties, instructing ourselves at large in the consideration of her nature, creation and immortality: and eschewing in all our discourses as much as we may, obscure words and phrases, subtle, curious and unprofitable disputations, which the ancient Philosophers have used in the searching out of such matters, we will apply ourselves to the greatest number of such as have not haunted the schools of philosophy, that we may profit many, and instruct ourselves in the truth by familiar speeches, so far forth as our weak judgement is able to comprehend, being directed by the gift and grace of God, and made comformable to his word, which is the true touchstone whereby all doctrine is to be examined. Moreover we will observe in our discourses the same order which we kept in our Academical treatises: but only that I think it meetest for our present purpose, that every one of us after he hath discoursed of some point, should offer matter subject to his companion to prosecute and speak of, as if he gave him instructions concerning that thing which he propoundeth unto him. And thus we will deal all four of us, every one in his course, making one discourse round in the morning, and another the afternoon: continuing until we have finished as it were a natural history of man, and of his parts, the body and soul. First therefore thou shalt instruct us ASER, in the creation of first man, and in the matter whereof man's body is made. Par la prieres Dieu m'ayde. ¶ THE FIRST days work of the second part of the French Acadamy. Of the creation of the first man, and of the matter whereof the body of manis made. Chap. 1. ASER. God only hath his being of himself, therefore he is eternal, without beginning & without end. But because he would not be alone, he created the creatures, and by their creation gave being to that which was nothing before. Therefore all natures took their being and essence, and do hold it of that first everlasting essence. Thus also he answered to Moses, who asked of him what his name was: The name of God. Exod. 3. 14. I will be that I will be: or, I am that I am, Moreover he said, Thus shalt thou say to the children of Israel: I am hath sent me unto you. We see here what name he giveth himself, whereby he showeth that he only is, and hath an immutable essence and existence, which only, to speak properly, a man may call a Being. Wherefore seeing God is the first essence, and that only that hath being of itself, and from which all others proceed, as rivers from their spring and fountain, we shall easily come unto the Eternity of God, if we know how to ascend thither by the degrees of the essences of all those creatures, which descended from his eternal and unchangeable essence, by reason whereof he is called jehovah by the Hebrews. If then we consider ourselves, every one of us shall know that he had a beginning, that he made not himself, neither came into the world but by the help of another. This consideration will lead every one to his father and mother that begat him: & being come so far, he will pass on and ascend step by step to his ancestors, Steps to ascend up by to the knowledge of God. making the like judgement of all his predecessors as of himself. For he will by and by think, that they came into the world after the same manner that he did, and not otherwise, and that they were not the first men. Thus if a man ascend up still from father to father, he must needs in the end come to some one father, that was the first father of all, of whom all others took their beginning, as he that was the stock of all mankind. This first father must either have his being of one, or be eternal, or come of some eternal matter like to God, or be God himself. Which because he● could not be, ●hee must needs have some beginning, and be borne after another fashion than they were that descended of him. Now what 〈◊〉 can we say he had but the Creator of the whole world? Being come to his first beginning we can mount no higher, but must stay there, and conclude, that this first builder of nature was without beginning, that he is infinite and eternal, otherwise we shall never find place to stay at. Thus we see how the creature leadeth us from essence to essence, proceeding from one to another, until it come to the first essence which is infinite and eternal, the spring and fountain of all others, which we call God. But let us speak of this creation of the first man. After the almighty power of 〈◊〉 Eternal had within nothing and of nothing made the only matter of the world, & had seucred out of this Chaos, the air, the fire, the earth and the water, & enriched the whole with celestial lights; herbs, plants, earthy, eyrie, and watery living creatures, Gen. 1. 26. Let us (said he) make man in our own image according to our likeness, and let them rule over the 〈◊〉 of the sea, and o●er the foul of the heaven, and over the beasts, and over all the earth, and over every thing that creepeth and moovethon the earth. Now we will note here in the first place three things well worthy of consideration. Three things to be considered in the creation of man. First, that God did not barely command that man should be made and created, as he commanded for the other creatures: but he speaketh, as though some great king or prince should ideliberate with his Council about the making of some great work: declaring afterward himself why he took this way in the cruation of man only, and not in the creation of the other creatures like wise, when he saith, According to our own image and likeness, which is the second thing we have to note. For by these words he plainly declareth, that he mindeth to make a work, the like whereof was not before, and to draw our an image more agreeable to his nature and more worthy his Majesty than he had done before amongst all the workest of his hands. For although he had already idomed and replenished the whole heavens 〈◊〉 goo●y lights, yea all thee 〈◊〉 and residue of the world with all sorts of creatures, yet there was not one creature under heaven which he had made capable of understanding and reason, to know and glorify God the creator of the whole world. And 〈◊〉 the Angels being 〈◊〉 spirits had this understanding and knowledge, yet he would have man beside upon earth, for whose sake chief he had created the world, to the end he might know and glorify him together with his Angels. Therefore Moses addeth the third thing which we have to consider in this deliberation of man's creation, thereby the better to let us know the excellency of this creature above the rest, when he declareth, that God would create him, that he might rule over the rest of the living creatures, and over the whole earth, as if man should be his Lieutenant, and as it were a little terrene god, under the great & sovereign God that created him. But some man may ask with whom God maketh this deliberation? For he speaketh as though he would have some helpers and companions in the making of this so excellent a work. The Prophet Isaiah answereth to this, Isa. 40. 13, 14. rom. 11. 34. saying, Who was his counsellor? or who hath given to him first, and he shallbe recompensed? For he had no other counsel or help but of himself, and of his heavenly and eternal wisdom, as it is testified by Solomon. Prou. 8. 22. etc. Therefore we must not think that he had the Angels for counsellors and helpers, either in the creation of man, or of any other creature whatsoever, as some have presumed to imagine and to affirm. For that were to derogate too much from the nature and majesty of God, and to take from him the title of Almighty, which agreeth to him only. For the creature cannot be a creator. And as there is but one only God, so there is but one creator of all things. For the work of the creation can agree to none but to God only. But Moses by this manner of speaking in the plural number, meant to give out some obscure knowledge of the trinity of persons that is in the unity of God, The trinity of persons in the unity of the godhead. and that union which they have together in the work of the creation, which is common to the Father, with the Son and the holy Ghost, as are all the other works of God. For although there be distinction of persons in one and the same divine essence, yet there is no division between them nor separation. And as they are united together in one and the same essence, so likewise are they in all their works. For the Father doth nothing but by the Son, & that in the virtue of the holy spirit. Gen. 1. 27. Therefore the Prophet addeth immediately God created the man in his image: in the image of God created he him: he created them male and female. We see here that Moses doth not propound unto us three Gods or three creators, but one only. And in that he doth twice repeat this, that God created man in his image, it is to let us understand, that this point ought to be well considered of, and weighed, as that wherein consisteth all the excellency of man, and the true difference that is between him and the other living creatures, which are but brute beasts. We shall know where we ought to seek this image of God in man, after we have heard the rest of the history of his creation. For after that Moses hath briefly and summarily spoken as we have said, he taketh the same matter again into his hand and entreateth thereof more specially. Gen. 〈◊〉 7. He saith then, That the Lo 〈◊〉 of the dust of the ground, & breathed in his face breath of life, & that the man was a living soul. Whereby he showeth evidently, that God did not create the body & soul of man both at one time, as he had created the beasts, but the body first & then the soul, which he joined therewith, not only to give life untoit, as it is given to brute beasts by the soul which they have, but also to make it capable of understanding, as we shall understand more at large hereafter. For we speak not now by what means, or at what time the soul is joined with the body in the common & ordinary generation of men, but only of the mean & order which God observed in the creation of the first man, according to the rehearsal which Moses maketh. Now touching the matter whereof he made him, because the chiefest & most apparent was taken from the earth, Gen. 3. 19 it is said expressly, that he was made thereof, & that he should return thither, as we see it true, in the death of every one. But this is most certain & granted of all the great philosophers yea evident to be seen, that man's body is compounded of the 4. elements, & of all their qualities, Man's body compounded of the 4. elements. as also all the other bodies of creatures under heaven. And because the greatest part which remaineth of that which we see of man, is of the earth, therefore it is said, that he returneth to earth, although whatsoever is taken of the other elements in the composition of his body, doth likewise turn again into them. For the flesh of man agreeth aptly with the earth, his vital spirits with the air & the fire, his humours with the water. Of what element e●ery sense holdeth most. The sense of seeing agreeth with the fire: that of hearing with the air: that of tasting with the element of water: the sense of touching with the earth: & that of smeling with the air and fire, as we shall understand more at large hereafter when we handle them. Yea there is no piece so small in the whole frame of man, wherein every one of the elements doth not intemeddle his power & qualities, although one of them doth always command above the rest. This is to be seen in the blood, which is the first & chiefest of those 4. humours in the body, & is properly of the nature of the air. For the muddy dregs, which commonly thicken & settle in the bottom of it, are of the nature of the earth, & are called Melancholy: the pure blood that swimmeth in the midst doth represent unto us the air: that humour that swimmeth in a round circle is watery sleame: and the scum that appeareth above, is the choler, which is of the nature of the fire. If we consider the ordinary generation of men, the matter is humour: natural heat is as it were the master builder: dryness hardeneth the body: and cold refresh do not only moderate the heat that the moist matter should not be consumed, but have also their proper action to congeal and gather it together. Now we must understand that of this first matter which contained all the elements, The first matter the mother of all things. and which God made the mother of all things, and capable of all forms, every body is compounded, & every one returneth into the same again, & of that taketh a new form: so that the true matter of all corporal things doth not turn into nothing, neither increaseth or decreaseth in any sort. So that ever since the Eternal that can do all things, made this whole great frame of nothing, no one thing is made of nothing, neither doth any thing vanish into nothing: but the change of every thing that is bred or that dieth, is only in form. Now by this knowledge of the matter of the first man's body, we may easily understand of what matter all men's bodies are made. For certain it is, that of one only man all others have had their beginning, being all his seed & offspring & multiplying daily according to his first virtue. The reason hereof is this, because this power is naturally engraffed in every thing to bring forth his like, & to continue itself in the same kind, being inhabled thereunto through a quickening virtue infused into it by that divine reason, which is the efficient & preserving cause of all creatures. Now I doubt not but the Epicures & Atheists, & such like deriders of God & his word, with whom this age is pestered more than any age past, will account all this to be a very fable, that hath been hitherto spoken of the creation of the first man. For they give no more credit to the writings of Moses, and of all the Prophets & Apostles, then to an old wives tale, or to the fables of doting dreams. Neither will they believe any more of God, of his providence and of his works, than they are able to understand, know, and comprehend by their natural reason. They will say then, that they have not seen the like works in nature, An argument of all Atheists against man's creation. (which they put in stead of God:) and so by the same reason they will account for lies whatsoever the word of God teacheth us concerning the creation of this great visible world, & of all things contained therein, as also that which we shall hear anon touching the creation of woman. And thus because they saw not when God created the world, & because he did set another order in nature after the creation thereof, then there was before he had created nature, therefore according to their goodly philosophy, there shallbe neither God nor Creator, nor difference betwixt the works of the creation, in which nature itself was created, and those that sollowed after God and disposed the order of nature created by him. What then shall we say of man & of all the world? Shall he be without a creator, and eternal, or made of some matter that was eternal with God, or shall he be God himself? For either he was created, or he was not created. If he were not created, then is he eternal, as even Aristotle saith, following the discourse of human reason, Aristotle's error was that the world had no beginning which notwithstanding blinded him in this martyr of creation: Wherein he is not only contrary to the word, but also to his master Plato, and to the best and most excellent amongst the Philosophers. But if the world was created, it must needs be that it had some beginning, & that the first man, (as likewise every other creature) was begotten after another manner than the use is at this present. But what would these sharp wits, or rather dull beasts say, if they had not seen by experience the work of God (which they call the work of nature only) in the generation of men? For of what are they daily begotten and conceived, but of a superfluity, and as it were of an excrement of man's body, as hereafter we shall understand more at large? Is this far more easy to digest in human reason then the first creation of man? If these scorners had never seen such a thing, and if they were not convicted hereof by daily experience, they would give as little credit to those that should tell them of it, as they do to the spirit of God speaking of his works by the mouth of his Prophets. As for those that set nature in the place of God, what greater brutishness can proceed from them? For doth not the very same of nature declare sufficiently, Nature cometh of the Latin word Nascor. which signifieth to be borne. that nature is a thing made and created, and so consequently, hath her creation and her birth of God, as all other creatures have? But God punisheth these poor ignorant fellows with the like judgement that he doth many other skilful and great Philosophers, whom he oftentimes giveth over into a reprobate sense, because through their pride and ingratitude they abuse the knowledge of natural things which God giveth them: and so that science which should lead them to a greater knowledge of God, maketh them more beastlike than any other, through their own fault. For it cannot be otherwise but that every one, considering the nature and composition even of one only member of man's body, most of necessity acknowledge and confess, that some Woorkemaster made it, and that this Woorkemaster is of no bodily or human nature, but of a spiritual and divine being: that he hath not only understanding and knowledge of all things, but also that he is understanding itself: that he knoweth, loveth, and is the author of all order, and that his wisdom and virtue is so infinite, that it surmounteth all men's understandings. Hereupon it followeth, that he is worthy to be esteemed for God, and to be worshipped of all men. There are others that ask, why man was not created an infinite space of time before he began to be by the testimony of the holy Scripture, which teacheth us, that it is not yet fully 6000. years since his creation, as though he had been created very late. But if the shortness of time offendeth them, because they think that there are so few years, since we read in holy Scripture, that man was created, let them consider that nothing lasteth long if it have any end, and that the whole space of ages past, if it be compared with eternity that is endless, is not only not to be thought little, but none at all. Therefore that question which now they ask after 5000. years, they might with the same curiosity demand after six hundred thousand years, if the world had endured so long. They also that were before us when man was but newly created, might have moved this question: yea the first man might have inquired also assoon as he was made, why he was not made before. And so this controversy about the beginning of man's being, had never at any time heretofore any other reasons than it hath now, neither shall have hereafter. Let us know then that God being eternal and without beginning began time, and in time made man whom he had never made before, being led thereunto not by any new and sudden motion, but by an immutable and eternal counsel. For no new thing can befall him, neither is there any thing in him that is mutable: but according to the height and depth of his riches he hath multiplied the children of men. And let them think, imagine and dispute what they list, yet all things have had their beginning according to the good providence of God, which no man in the world can sufficiently comprehend. O great mystery, that God hath always been, and that it pleased him some time past to make man first, who was never made before, and yet not to change his purpose and will! How we must ascend up to the knowledge of God by his creatures. Thus you see how we must step by step ascend by the works of God unto himself, as we have already touched in the beginning of our speech, and as we can do it well enough in men's works. For when I behold a work, it by and by putteth me in mind of the instruments wherewith it was made, and the instruments, of him that made them, and of him that set them awork. Then the Workemaster putteth me in mind of him that made him such a one, namely, both of his master that taught him, and also of his parents that begat him. Thus climbing up still from one to one, and from degree to degree, I must needs in the end conclude, that there is one chief Workmaster, of whom all others are descended by their order & degree. And there I must stay: as in like manner proceeding from one essence to another, I may come to the contemplation of that infinite and eternal essence, which is the spring and first cause of every nature, namely unto God, who hath given to that matter whereof he made all things, a form meet and convenient for that work which he would make of it. This is that which I think we ought to conceive touching the creation of the matter of man's body. Now before we consider the disposition thereof, I think we ought to entreat of the creation of woman, who is one self same flesh, differing only in sex, and appointed of God to be a necessary help for the original and preservation of mankind: which I desire to hear you discourse of, AMANA. Of the creation of Woman. Chap. 2. AMANA. No marvel, if the eye of man's soul be often dimmed, yea looseth all light in the diligent consideration of the wonderful works of God's providence. For as the eye of the body although clear of itself, cannot behold colours, figures, & other visible things, except it be illuminated with light from heaven, or from some other lightsome body: so albeit our understanding of it own nature be very clear sighted, as being a beam of the divine brightness, yet by reason of the bond that conjoineth it to the body, wherein it is overwhelmed with the darkness of the matter, it can in no wise attain to the glittering conceptions of eternal wisdom, unless it always have God that great & everlasting Sun, and his heavenly light to illuminat it, and to guide it to the faithful contemplation of the works of his almighty hand. This hath been the cause why so many great wits discoursing philosophically of the original and beginning of things, and looking on every side, yea doubting and fearing many things, which they found contrary to human reason, have been carried hither and thither with divers opinions, like to a vessel tossed in a deep sea, but could never come near to the knowledge of the truth. But if we follow the bright star of truth fixed in the heavenly book of life, as we have learned therein the creation of man, so we may as easily be instructed in the creation of the woman, to the confusion of the wise men of the world, and of all Epicures and Atheists. The holy scriptures teach us, that after God had created man & placed him in the garden of Eden, to dress it, and keep it, & had forbidden him to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good & evil, which was a sign & token of the homage, obedience, and subjection he did owe to God his creator & Lord, and of that blessed life appointed for him as a recompense and crown of this obedience, It is not good (than said he) that man should be himself alone, Gen. 2. 15, 18. I will make him an help meet for him. And to show the better how this help was, not only meet, but also necessary for man, Moses saith, that God had already brought all the beasts before Adam, that he might name them according to their natures and kinds, which he performed. What great knowledge of natural things was in Adam. Whereby we may judge, what great knowledge of natural things was in Adam before he sinned. For otherwise he could not have given to all living creatures names agreeable to their nature: and if he had not named them as he should, he had brought in great confusion in nature, afterward Moses addeth, that amongst all those living creatures he found no help meet for Adam: yea the Lord had spoken of him before, as if he had been alone in the world. For although all the beasts, and all the residue of the creatures were given to man to assist him, so that being in that estate of innocency wherein he was then, he might receive all service and ready obedience from all the creatures, nevertheless he had not as yet any help of his kind. For he could not have that familiarity and convesation with the beasts, nor receive such help from them, as he could from creatures of his own kind. Therefore when the Lord said, that it was not good for man to be alone, he declared plainly, that he did not create him to live and solitary in the world, but with company, and that his will was, that there should be men upon earth, who should live in society and fellowship together. Man was created for society. Now seeing that man was created for this end, he could not live in company with others of his kind without generation and multiplication thereof, which could not be except he were joined to a wise, seeing it pleased GOD to appoint it so. Wherefore as he created the other living and sensible creatures of two sexes in one kind, namely, some males and others females, that they might increase and multiply by generation, so likewise dealt he with mankind. But as he took an other course in the creation of man, than he did in that of beasts, so also dealt he in the creation of the woman, whom he purposed to give unto man for a companion. For he created not man and woman both together, but man first, and then woman afterward, as we will declare by and by. Now because there is no conjunction or communion in any human society, wherein that holy bond, which ought to knit all men together, and join them one to another, is better declared, then in that whereby man & wife are conjoined and united, as it were in one self same body, and in one soul, therefore it pleased God not without cause to begin this holy society by that conjunction, which is the bond and foundation of all the rest, and as it were the springhead and fountain of all mankind. Therefore it is written, that GOD minding to create woman and to give her to man for an helper, caused an heavy sleep to fall upon Adam, (which name is as much to say as, Of earth) and when he slept he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in stead thereof. And the Lord God made a woman of the rib, The creation of woman, and use thereof. In Hebrew Ish signifieth man, and Ishah woman. which he had taken from man: then the man said, This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh, she shall be called Man's, or Mannish, because she was taken out of man. First we see in this history, that God would not that the male and female should have two beginnings, but only one, and that they should be as it were one stock of mankind, to the end that the conjunction thereof should be more strait, firm and inviolable. For if it had been otherwise, the diversity of beginnings might have given occasion either of contemning one another, or of envy, dissension, and brawlings. Therefore God created in the person of Adam the fountain of mankind, and after framed evah, (which is as much to say, as alive, or living) to the end we might know, that the woman was not created as a new creature of an other race or kind, but was only a portion and part of the nature of man. By this means Adam had in the woman as it were a glass to behold and contemplate himself, as evah also had the like in him, and as yet to this day every husband hath the like in his wife, and every wife in her husband. For the woman was flesh of the flesh of man, blood of his blood, and bone of his bones, even as it were his own body, and a second-selfe. How then can the husband despise and hate his wife, and not hate himself? For as Saint Paul witnesseth, Ephes. 5. 29. No man ever yet hated his own flesh. And what cause hath a woman to be loath to be obedient to her husband, if she consider that she is taken out of him, and that in setting herself against him, she striveth against herself, and doth herself great wrong and injury? Therefore as the Lord hath declared what place he would have the husband and wife to keep, every one in their degree, by that order which he hath observed in creating the man first, and then the woman: so he hath done the like in that he created the woman neither of the man's head nor of his feet, but of his rib. Whereby as on the one side, he admonisheth the wife not to lift up herself above her husband by taking authority over him, and so making herself his head: so on the other side he admonisheth the husband not to abuse his authority, by putting his wife under his feet, as if she were a slave, but to account of her as of his sister and companion. We are therefore to consider the great wisdom and providence of God in this creation of the woman. But Atheists, and other contemners of the word of God, besides that goodly ground and foundation of their impieties whereof we heard before, take farther occasion to deride this history of the creation of woman, because it is said, that she was builded of a rib which God took from Adam. Truly the works of God in the creation of things are not usual, because they are the first: but they which will not believe them, may as well give no credit neither to the miracles that have been in times past, nor to those that are daily seen. For they were not to be called by this name of miracles, if they were wrought by an ordinary course of nature. They conclude then out of Moses speech, either that Adam had then one rib more than he should have had, How Atheists scofle at the woman's creation. or else that he had one less than he should after the woman's creation: so that what side soever you take they will find a great absurdity. They that seek for occasions in this sort to scofte at the works of God, that study and take delight to cavil at them, will always find absurdities enough in them according to their corrupt will and judgement. For they will daily coin as many as they list to hinder themselves from the knowledge of God and of his works, lest they should be constrained by them to glorify him. But indeed what can they do else but bark against God and his providence, and laugh at all that is taught us by the holy spirit concerning the creation of all things contained in the world, seeing they are not capable of the knowledge and understanding of heavenly mysteries? But I demand of them, what strange matter they find in this, if it were so that Adam was created with one rib more than men commonly have, which God prepared in his creation for the woman's creations or otherwise, if he had one less after her creation, Genes. 2. 21. which is more likely? For it is said expressly, that God filled up with flesh that place out of which he took the rib whereof he framed evah. So that Adam lost nothing, neither was he less perfect in respect of that. For God did very well recompense it two ways. First, because that which he put in stead thereof, did serve Adam's turn as well as if his rib had remained still. Secondly, it turned to his great good, in that he had a whole woman for one of his ribs, yea such an help was given unto him, that she was as it were another half of his body to make him a perfect man. Besides all this, we have further to note the significations of those things which God meant to represent unto us, and to teach us by that manner of proceeding, which he observed increating the woman; of which I have already spoken. But we have also to mark herein a notable prophecy of jesus Christ and of his Church and a lively image of her union, Of the musterie of Christ and his Church in the creation of the woman. conjunction, and communication with him being her husband. For as the rib was taken from the man's side whilst he was asleep, that the woman might be made: so in the death of jesus Christ, signified by this sleep, and whilst he hung upon the cross, his side was pierced, out of which issued blood and water which resemble the Sacraments that tend to the edification of the Church. And as evah was taken from Adam according to the flesh, who was the first stock of mankind, and then joined unto him in marriage, that of twain they might be one in one flesh: so the Church was taken from jesus Christ according to the spirit, who is the true stock of mankind regenerated and reform after the image of God, that she might be one mystical body with jesus Christ, who was given unto her by God for her husband and head. For this cause we may say the same things of him and of his Church, which we spoke before of the authority and sovereignty of the husband over his wife, & of the subjection of the wife towards her husband. For the Church was not first, but jesus Christ who is eternal, very God and very man: neither was jesus Christ taken from her, but she from him. Therefore that which Adam said of evah, when God brought her unto him, and when he had seen her after he awoke from sleep, namely, Ephes. 5. 30. This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh, Saint Paul apply to jesus Christ and to his Church, because she is made bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh, and partaker of the very nature of jesus Christ by faith in him, and by that union, conjunction, and fellowship which she hath with him, whereby she is conjoined unto him as his spouse. Wherefore the faithful have good cause to rejoice, knowing that there is the like spiritual union, conjunction and communication between jesus Christ and them, as there is between the husband and the wife according to the flesh. Now as we have answered to the frivolous speeches which Atheists commonly make about the creation of the woman, so we will not pass over with silence the opinion of natural Philosophers, The opinion of natural Philosophers touching the nature of women. who say, that the male is as it were a perfect man in comparison of the woman, and that she is an imperfect man. For they do teach, that nature tendeth always to the greatest perfection that she can attain unto: and because the male is more perfect than the female, therefore that she always endeavoureth to bring forth males. But when she wanteth power and strength to do that she would, she engendereth females instead of males. Whereupon it should follow, that the generation of the woman, as also that of the other females of all living creatures, is an infirmity, a defect, and an imperfection of nature. But I would gladly demand of them, whether GOD made an imperfect work or no, when he created the first woman: and whether he did not create her as perfect in her kind, and in that degree for which he created her, as he did the man in his. Moreover, seeing God is the creator of nature, it is certain that he created it perfect in all things belonging unto it, and that he hath made it subject to certain Laws, under which it is always guided by his providence as well in the generation of females as of males, of the woman as of the man. And if some creatures excel others, yet that hindereth not why every one should not be perfect in his order and nature, having regard to their Creator, and to the end for the which he created them. We must not therefore allege any imperfection in the creation of the woman, more than in that of the man: seeing that if she had been created otherwise then she was, she should not have been so perfect in her nature as she is, because she would not so fitly serve that turn for the which she was created, namely, to help man, both in the generation and continuance of his kind, and also in being a succour unto him in such things as belong to his nourishment, and in the guiding and government of them. Besides, is it not said as well of the woman as of the man, that she was created in the image of GOD, as we have already heard? For Moses, after he had said that God created man in his image, addeth immediately, Genes. 1. 27. 1. Cor. 11. 7. In the image (I say) of God created he him, he created them male and female. And, as man is the image and glory of God, so the woman is the glory of the man: neither can the one be be without the other. For as the woman is of the man, so the man is by the woman, but all things are of GOD. Therefore the word of Building, What the word 〈◊〉 importeth in the ●●eation of the woman. Genes. 2. 22. which the Prophet useth in setting down the creation of the woman, is duly to be considered in this matter. For when he saith that God built the woman of Adam's rib, this word importeth more than if he had simply said, that he made and form the woman. For thereby he would have us know the perfection of man, and of mankind in the creation of the woman, because without her his building could not be finished. So that man is as it were the first foundation, upon whom the woman was builded: as likewise by generation of children proceeding from them both, this building is not only preserved and continued still, but also furthered and augmented. Upon the like reason the word that signifieth a child in the Hebrew tongue, is taken from a word that signifieth to build in the same language: as in deed children also are the true building of a house. But before we enter into any larger discourse of this matter to know the generation and multiplication of mankind, I am of opinion that we shall do well to entreat first of the disposition of that matter, whereof we heard before his body was made, as also of the parts thereof. For generation respecteth chief the third kind of the natural powers & faculties of man, whose virtue and properties we are not to consider of, before we have been instructed in all things that concern the particular composition of man's body and of every part thereof: to this end, that we might have the true knowledge of that lodging which God hath given to man to dwell in upon earth, and that step by step we might come to consider of the host or tenant of this tabernacle, namely of the spirit and soul, which is truly man. Let us then begin to take a view of the division of the chief parts of the body, and so handle first the simple or similary parts, of which all the rest are compounded. This matter subject I offer to thee ARAM, for thy discourse. Of the simple or similary parts of the body, namely the bones, ligaments, gristles, sinews, pannicles, cords or filaments, veins, arteries, and flesh. Chap. 3. ARAM. If we take pleasure in beholding material frames builded with men's hands, especially if they be made by rare workmen, and such as excel in their Art, and in viewing attentively the goodly works that are in them, we ought to be a great deal more delighted without all comparison, in looking upon the stately edifices builded with the very hand of God, and upon the exquisite and wonderful works wherewith he hath adorned and set them forth. Curiosity causeth many men to wander all their life time in lands and seas unknown, to feed their minds with a vain knowledge of the manners and customs of strangers: but very few will be found, who have a care to know themselves. In so much that being able to discourse of the situation of divers regions, and of the beauty of those places and fortresses that are therein, yet they know not their own house wherein they always dwell, and much less themselves, namely their souls, which are the inhabitants. But if we think it a shame for a man to be ignorant of those things that belong, or bring commodity or pleasure to the life of man, the ignorance of ourselves, which hurteth this life and the other we look for, is a great deal more shameful and dishonest. Now a man may easily perceive how commendable, excellent and profitable the knowledge of the nature of our bodies, and of every part thereof was judged to be by men in ancient time, in that they had public schools amongst them, in which every one might daily behold Anatomies: yea Anatomies were showed to every one that would see them in the private houses of Philosophers and Physicians. And for this cause Galen saith, that the Ancients would not write of this science. But after when this diligence of the first lovers thereof began to be despised and rejected of the most part of men, it was necessary that some should write thereof for their good, as also for the benefit of posterity. Otherwise they would have fallen within short space into a dangerous ignorance of their nature, and of the causes and remedies of such diseases as daily trouble them. But we must refer that knowledge, which in our discourses we seek for out of this science, to another end. Neither do we undertake to speak of that Art and Science that belongeth to Physicians, as though we made profession thereof, The true end and use of knowing th● book. but only to show the true use of it, and how it may be referred to the honour of God, and to the knowledge of his wisdom and providence: as also to the end, that in beholding the wonderful composition and disposition of the members of our body, we should remember the creator thereof, who seethe whatsoever heath most secret and hidden therein, and who is able to make as it pleaseth him an Anatomy both of body and soul, and to send them both to everlasting hell fire, when they will not acknowledge him to be the efficient and final causes of their being. Having regard therefore to this end, we will consider of the parts of man's body according to the subject propounded unto us. The parts then of the body are divided into two sorts or kinds: the firstis, the simple or similary parts, the other the compound parts. The simple parts are of that nature, What the simple or similary parts of man's body are. that every portion of them, how great or little soever it be, retaineth always the name that is given to the whole, whereof it is a part: and of these simple parts the other kind is named, whereof we will entreat hereafter, because they are compounded parts, and obtain the place of members, whose parts are not called by the name of the whole member, but every part hath his special name. For all the parts of the head are not called by the name of the head, and so it is in the other members of the body. But if a bone be broken into many pieces, every piece is still called a bone: and the like may be said of the other simple parts, which are nine in number, namely, the bone, the ligament, the gristle the sin●w, the pannicle, the cord or filament, the vein, the artery and the flesh. Our speech therefore must be of these. No man is ignorant, that the foundation of every building is as much a part thereof rather more (although it appear not) than any other part how sumptuous soever it be. For the rest are laid and planted upon the foundation, neither can they long continue in their beauty, unless that be good and firm. We may say the like of the bones of a man's body: Of the bones of man's body. (which are made of the seed in generation, when the thickest part of it is hardened by heat, as stones are baked in the earth by great heat.) For they are not only like to foundations and pillars, which sustain the body & all the members thereof, but they are as it were pales and fences unto it to contain all things that are within the building of the body, and to environ all the parts of it, as it were with walls and rampires. For this cause they are more earthy, drier, and colder than any other part of the body. And therefore the providence of God appeareth most wonderful in this composition of the bones, seeing that of one self same piece of earth or clay he maketh the bones so strong and hard in comparison of the ligaments, God's providence great in the creation of the bones. gristles, and oter simple parts: so that in respect of these the other are for strength & hardness like to stones and metals in comparison of the other part of the earth. Neither is the wisdom of God worthy of great admiration in this respect only, but also because he made not the bones all of one piece, nor yet of one fashion and form. For minding to give motion, not only to man but also to all other living & sensible creatures, the bones were to be divided & distinguished into divers pieces, to the end they should not hinder this motion, which is so necessary for those creatures: the manner whereof we may see in men armed at all points. A fit similitude. For the harness must be made of divers pieces according to the joints of the members, that their moving may have no impediment. But because the bones being divided and separated one from another, cannot be so conjoined or united together, that every one should sustain that charge which it hath to bear, therefore that they might serve more fitly for motion to the creatures, God hath framed them in such wise, that they have their joints in so good proportion & so aptly interserted one within another, as that the whole combination & uniting of them all together is marvelous exquisite & goodly to behold, like to a work made of many pieces, which all meet together in one body. For some of them are hollow like to a round box, that they may be conjoined with the other that are round in the ends, to the end they might be knit together more conveniently. To be short, they have all their fashions proportionable one with an other according to that manner of uniting, which is most meet & convenient for them. Now because this conjunction of joints cannot keep itself at that stay if it have no other band, Of the ligaments. therefore hath God placed there certain ligaments, or strings of the bones which are white parts, without blood, void of sense, not hollow, proceeding from the bones, & differing from them in nature, Of the gristles. although not so much as the gristles do. For the gristles (which serve also for a stay that is softer than the bones, to the end they should not rub together over hardly one within another) are more earthy, drier, and harder than the ligaments, and yet not so much as the bones: so that they are as it were of a middle substance and nature between the bones and the ligaments, which are also very earthy, dry, and hard, but less than the gristles and the bones, and more than the sinews, Of the sinews. which also in some sort draw near to the nature of the ligaments. But they differ both in that they have divers originals, as also because the ligaments are altogether insensible, as the bones & gristles are, neither can they give any motion or sense as the sinews can, but serve only for bands to tie the bones one to another, & to knit the other members unto them. But the sinews, which proceed either from the brain, or from the marrow of the back bone whose original is from the brain, are of a tender, soft, & white substance, & of that nature that they have all sense, which they impart to all the sinewy parts of the body. And of them also some give both sense & motion together. Therefore their substance is not so dry, nor so hard as that of the ligaments: neither yet is it so soft & tender as is the substance of the fl●sh, or of the kernels, or of the skins, & of such other like parts, whereof we will speak hereafter. As for the pannicles, Of pannicles and ●ilaments. & cords or filaments, which are little long threads, slender & white, solid & strong, we may comprehend them under the name of sinews & ligaments, because they take part of both natures. For some of them have sense with the sinews, others have none with the ligaments. The office of the pannicles (which are little skins made of sinews & ligaments) is to defend & to knit together the members, & to impart to many of them sense, as to the liver, the heart, the lungs, the spleen, & the kidneys. And as for the filaments, they serve the body, some to draw nourishment, others to retain and keep that which is meet to nourish the body, and some to drive forward and to cast forth those excrements and superfluities, which help not to nourish it, Of the veined. but are only a burden and grief unto it. The veins are thin and slender pipes carrying the thicker blood wherewith the body is nourished, and they have their beginning from the liver. For in that the hollow vein is greater and larger than the rest, and out of that all the other veins extend themselves into all the body, as it were branches proceeding from the body of a tree. Herein (as we will do in all our discourse) we follow the common opinion approved of the late learned Philosophers, Physicians, & Anatomists. For Aristotle wrote that the heart was the original of the veins. But Hypocrates taught otherwise, Of the artery. whom Galen followed, confuting Aristotle's opinion. As for the Arteries or pulses they are pipes that proceed from the heart. For in that is the great artery planted, which is the stock of all the rest, which serve to carry the vital spirits throughout the body: they are covered with little skins, that are strong & thick to keep the spirits from breathing out, & for the same cause they have their passages more straight. So that they have two skins or coverings, whereof that which is underneath is five times thi●ker than the skin of a vein. To conclude, the Arteries and veins are joined together, to the end that the vital spirits might draw and receive from the veins convenient matter for their nourishment, as also that by their heat they might warm the blood that is within them. For there are certain mouths in them both for this mutual communication, both that the spirit might draw his nourishment from the veins, as flame fetcheth the preservation of his light from the lamp, and also that the veins might receive spirit and heat from the arteries. Of the flesh. As for the flesh it is a substance of blood, which is then made when the thickest part of it is as it were congealed: and with that all the members of the body are clothed outwardly. We must speak more largely of the uses and properties of all these simple parts, which we have here laid open in few words. In the mean time in this little that hath been discoursed, we see a marvelous providence of God, who hath disposed and tempered the matter of the body in such wise, that he made it so apt to effect that work which he purposed, & that by proportions and mixtures so well contrived from one degree to another, as he hath done in the elements, to the end that all the parts of the body might the better be preserved one by an other. And although men's bodies are compounded of earth and of the other elements, as we have already touched, yet God showeth himself very won●e. full in this whole work and matter of man. For as he turneth the earth into divers natures, so that of one piece he maketh gold, of another silver, of this brass, iron and other metals, of that minerals, of another precious stones of sund●y sorts, which are as it were ●he bones of the earth, besides a great many other things of divers kinds which were infinite to rehearse: so of one self same matter appointed for the composition of the body, he maketh variety of works that 〈◊〉 may be framed and furnished in all respects. For we see what difference there is between the bones, which parts are most earthy, The bones most earthy of all the parts. and so consequently driest, hardest, and coldest, because of all other parts they d●aw nearest to the nature of the earth. Then the gristles obtain the second degree next after the bones for agreement of nature, as that which is in then iddest between the bones and the ligaments, as the ligaments are of a middle nature between the gristles and the filaments, and the filaments between the ligaments and the sinews, and so of the rest. Therefore as God the great workmaster of nature hath framed all the parts of man's body of matter taken from all the elements, so also he hath tempered his matter according to the work he meant to make, and to that office, which it pleased him to appoint unto every part and member of the body. So that the matter of some parts holdeth more of the earth, of other parts it hath more water, or air, or fire, or else is more or less mingled of all together. Whereby it appeareth how aptly this workmaster can apply himself unto his work. We have also another notable testimony of his providence, in that he hath made the ligaments so strong and firm according to the necessity of their office, having ordained them to knit the bones in their joints, and to be as it were bands & cords to tie and conjoin them together, even as the thongs of harness keep the parts thereof bound and tied one to another. We may say as much of the filaments, but chief of the sinews, which in their places serve for bands to the body. And here we have also to note, that because God hath created them to give both motion and sense to the body, therefore he hath planted their root partly in the brain, partly in the marrow of the backbone, which is also derived from the brain: as the original of the ligaments is either in the bones, or in the gristles, or in the skin, and the beginning of the filaments both in the ligaments and in the sinews, according to that use for which they were made. And that the motion of living creatures might not be hindered, he hath not made the ligaments, nor the filaments nor the sinews of any such boisterous or stiff matter, but that the creatures may easily bend every way whithersoever they list to move and turn their members. Neither hath he made them of so tender and soft matter, but that they are strong and powerful enough to hold fast all the members within their joints, to the end they might not easily become bare and thrust out of their places, as also to furnish the creatures with strength and power, which consisteth principally in the force and might of these parts. It is requisite also that they should be such, because they are as it were in continual labour, and sustain great stresses. Wherefore they must needs be of such matter as will not easily yield or wear away, or break in pieces. And because all the members and all the joints are not to sustain labours and brunts alike, therefore the Lord hath very well provided for that, as he hath done the like also in the composition and distribution of the bones. For those members that must sustain the heaviest burdens and greatest brunts, that are to dispatch most laboursome business, and therefore require the greater strength, have biggest, strongest, and mightiest bones, ligaments and sinews, so that their bulk, bigness, breadth and thickness are answerable to their necessary uses. The lesser members and such as are to undergo less pain, which are ordained to effect more fine and witty works wherein Art is more required than force, have also their bones, ligaments and sinews lesser and smaller, so that in certain places there are some bones passing small, and sinews, which are only as it were little threads. Thus much I thought meet for us to understand concerning the simple parts of the body, now we must consider the compound parts: and first entreat of the outermost parts, and so follow that which we spoke of the foundation of man's building, to the end, that by little and little we may set him upright, and consider him thoroughly in all his parts. Therefore thy speech ACHITOB, shall be of the feet and legs, and of the arms and hands. Of the compound parts of the body, and first of the feet and legs, and of the arms and hands. Chap. 4. ACHITOB. Among the manifold and great commodities, which we may reap by the diligent consideration of the Anatomy of the body, there are two of greatest weight. The first is, to put us in mind of our mortality in regard of our bodies, A double use of Anatomy. to the end that we should not please ourselves too much in the beauty of them, and so wax proud and abuse ourselves, as also that we should remember all those testimonies, which we have in the holy Scriptures of the frailty of man, and of his whole nature. For when we see that those parts of the body that are hardest, strongest, most firm, and such as after the death of a man continue longest before they return into powder, and into that first matter out of which they were taken, as namely those parts that were propounded unto us in the former discourse, especially the bones: I say, when we see that these notwithstanding their hardness, must in the end return to dust as well as the rest, what shall we think of the other parts that are softer and more tender, and less able to resist corruption? Therefore the spirit of God doth so often by his word call and send us back to that instruction, which he giveth us by the matter whereof he made and framed our bodies, and by the consideration of our own original and birth: to the end we should learn to contain ourselves evermore within the compass of all humility and modesty, as well towards him, as one towards an other. Hereof it was that Isaiah had commandment given him from the Lord to cry, Esay 40. 6. job 14. 1, 2. that all flesh i● grass, and all the grace thereof as the flower of the field. Man that is borne of a woman (saith job) is of short continuance, and full of trouble. He shooteth forth as a flower, and is cut down: he vanisheth also as a shadow, and continueth not. Again for the second point, we are taught to consider and to know by that providence of God, which showeth itself in the composition of the vilest and most earthy parts, and in that frame which he maketh for the building of the whole body, how great and wonderful it ought to be in the residue, namely in the noblest parts thereof, especially in the soul, if we could see it with our eyes, as we behold the body. Wherefore, that we may the better know the excellent work of God in this building, we must raise it upright before our eyes, to the end we may behold it on the outside (as it were a frame ready made) from the foot to the top, and from the foundation to the covering and highest part thereof. The whole body of man is commonly divided into four principal outward parts, Four principal parts of the body. which are called compound, in respect of the simple parts spoken of before, which serve for matter to make them of: whereupon afterward they take the name of member, according to that form that is given to each of them. These four principal parts are, the head, the breast, the belly, the outward parts, namely, the arms and hands, the legs and feet. The head endeth where the neck beginneth. The breast comprehendeth that part which we commonly call the breast, also the back, the ribs, and whatsoever else is contained in them from the neck unto the midriff, Of the midriff. which is a skin that separateth the heart and the lungs on the one side, and the inferior entrails on the other. The belly reacheth from thence where the breast endeth unto the bone above the privy members and near to the groin. The extreme or outward parts are already named by us; and of them our present discourse shall be, beginning, as it were at the foundation, upon which all the body is laid. First therefore we see how God hath so aptly fashioned the feet, that they do not only bear up all the rest of the body, but also carry and recarry it wheresoever a man wil Next, the legs are set upon them, as it were the pillars of this whole building, being closed in such sort unto them as need requireth, to help the feet to sustain and bear up all the rest of the frame laid upon them. Eccles. 12. 3. For this cause Solomon calleth them the strong men that stoop in old age, when their virtue and strength faileth them. For they bow through weakness, and tremble as the hands do, which the same Prophet calleth the keepers of the house. Now because the chief strength of the body lieth in the bones, when the scriptures mean to set forth any violent grief, as when a man is extremely pressed▪ & as it were altogether oppressed, Psal. 6. 2. and 22. 14. isay 38. 13. they say that his bones are vexed, or broken, or out of joint, that is to say, all his strength and power, so that he is as a body whose bones are wholly broken and shivered. And when the Scripture would signify the contrary, job 21. 24. Esay 66. 14. it saith that, their bones run full of marrow, and that they flourish like an herb. Now if we take the whole leg, namely from the huckle bone unto the ends of the toes, it hath three great parts answerable to the three parts of the whole arm, which part of the body reacheth from the shoulders unto the ends of the fingers. In the first place is the foot, which is the nethermost part of the whole leg, and it consisteth of three parts, Three parts of the leg. which also are answerable to the three parts of the hand. The first is the heel, which by a joint and convenient knitting together, uniteth the foot to that part of the leg which reacheth from thence up to the knee or gartering place. The second is the sole, and as it were the back● of the foot, being long, large and hollow in the midst, to the end it might be more fit to stand fast and to walk upon. The toes are the third part of the foot, being set and placed in such wise as is most convenient for that duty of the foot. For they differ much from the fingers, not only in length, but also in situation, because the office of the hand and the foot is not all one. Therefore as the fingers are longer than the toes, so the thumbs are otherwise placed then the great toes. For if the great toe were placed as the thumb is, it would hinder the foot in stead of helping it: and the like may be said of the other toes. The two other parts of the leg are, first, that which is from the knee to the foot, which is commonly called the leg for want of an other proper name in our tongue, next the thigh, which is from the huckle bone unto the knee. And as this hath his joint and band to fasten him to the knee, so the other by the like means is joined to the foot. Therefore both the foot and the whole leg have their necessary motions through the help of the sinews and muscles, as well to stretch itself out, as to bow and bend forward and backward, upward and downward, as also to turn itself on the right hand, and on the left, and round about: both to set forward and to retire, to ascend and to descend, and for all the motions that are meet and convenient both for this member and for all the parts of it. Thus much for the lowest foundation of the frame of man's body, and for the pillars that hold it up. Now we must consider of the other outward parts, the arms and the hands. As God hath given to man two legs and two feet to hold him up, Of the arms and hands. and to carry him whithersoever he would go, so he hath given him two arms and two hands, to dispatch all business which he thinketh good. Therefore the hand is rightly called by Aristotle, ●he instrument of the instruments. For there is no member in all the body nor instrument whatsoever, that maketh more or more sundry works. This instrument maketh all other instruments, and setteth them a work, as we see by experience. And because man only of all other living creatures is capable of Arts, and knoweth how to use them, therefore hath God given to him only this instrument to exercise them. We see also that there is no work which he cannot do with his hands. And what work of God is there which he doth not counterfeit, as if he were some little god upon earth, that had undertaken to make an other visible world within this world created by God? For if we consider the Sciences and A●tes of men, and those excellent works which they make by the means of their hands, who will not be ravished with admiration? That sentence of Anaxagoras may well be approved wherein he saith, that the hand is the cause of knowledge and wisdom: (although Plutarch doth learnedly understand experience, by the hand.) For if it did not frame letters and figures, nor made instruments requisite and necessary for all Sciences and Arts, they could not in any wise be either taught or learned. Therefore considering well that which we say, man may be called a second Creator, who taking pattern by the work of God in the creation of the world hath endeavoured to make works answerable unto those which God hath given him in the world for a pattetne to imitate. The agreement and difference between the works of God and the works of man. Psal. 33. 9 rom. 4 17. But there is great difference betwixt the works of man and the works of God, especially in three points: namely, in the matter, in the form, and in the life of them, together with all those things which it bringeth with it. For first man can not work without matter, which he cannot find in himself, as God who made all things of nothing, and made that to be which was not. But man dealeth contrarily. For he can make nothing of nothing, but must of necessity have matter meet for the work he taketh in hand, unto which he is able to add the form only. And yet he cannot give it any fashion except he first had the pattern thereof in the wo●kes of God. For although he can make very strange figures, and such as the very like hath not been seen in all nature, nor amongst all the creatures, yet he cannot pourtraite any so new, or so strange, whereof he had not before some resemblance in the works of God in sundry creatures. For he taketh divers pieces of many sundry figures, with which afterward heaped together, he counterfeiteth one altogether new and strange. As for example: never man saw a mountain all of gold, yet a man may imagine one in his mind, and frame an image thereof in his imagination. For albeit he never saw such a mountain, yet because he hath seen both mountains and also gold, by joining these two together which he knoweth, he can frame the image of such a mountain in his mind, and then having in this sort form and conceived it, he can counterfeit it with his hand. But as God taketh not the matter of his works without himself, and without the treasures of his infinite power, so he needeth not to seek else where for forms and patterns then in the treasures of his eternal wisdom and infinite knowledge. Again, there is this beside, which is chiefest of all, that he is able to give, not only being, but also life, sense, and motion to his works, yea such nature and properties as pleaseth him: which man can not do. For he can not change the nature of that matter upon which he worketh, but it must st●ll continue the same in nature and disposition. And although he can draw sundry effects from those matters about which he is occupied according as he may mingle and compound them together, nevertheless he altereth not their nature, but they retain it still according to their portion, every one in his place. Neither can he give to the best of his works so much life as is in a radish, or in any other lesser herb or plant: nor so much motion, sense, and industry as a Fly or an Aut hath, or the least worm in the earth. Now to proceed in beholding the use of the hand, we must understand that God gave unto men arms and hands chief to help one another, more than with any other member of their body, in so much that they ought to refer all their works, arts, All handy works ought to tend to common profit. and exercises to common benefit and profit. But it is far otherwise. For there is no member whatsoever with which they hurt one another more: so that their hands are more dangerous without all comparison, than the paws of all savage beasts. For those beasts that are most cruel spare the blood of their kind, but men delight to embrew their hands in man's blood, yea in the blood of their nearest kindred. There are some also who shamefully abuse their hands in causing them to serve for divinations: from whence the Art of Palmistry proceeded, Of the Art of Palmistry. which is full of superstition, and of fooleries well worthy to be laughed at: and such are all the other kinds of divinations invented by the vanity of man's brain. They that would seem to allege some show and likelihood of foundation for it, say, that nature hath imprinted in the lines of the hands wonderful significations of the temperature and disposition of the whole body. Therefore they call the long line in the midst of the hand, the line of life, and say, that they who have it whole throughout, are long lived. But suppose this were so, yet what probability is there for any to seek in the lines of the hand for the knowledge and signification of all things that shall befall men, and to foretell them, as they say, their good and ill fortune? For although it were so, that by looking upon the hands, a man might in some sort, judge of the temperature and disposition of the body, yet what reason is there to extend this consideration to the foretelling of all things, as if God or nature, as they speak, had set marks in the hands, so that a man might know, I say not by the Science, but by the vanity of chiromancy, whatsoever good or evil shall come unto men? For they that deal with this kind of divination do not only foretell whereunto the body may be disposed according to the temperature thereof, as a Physician may judge of the sickness or soundness of the body by those tokens which he seethe therein following his Art, but they go a great deal further. For they take upon them to foretell all good & ill adventures, namely, whether a man shall be rich or poor, married, or no, & whether he shall have many wives, & what they shallbe, whether maidens or widows, whether rich or poor, with such other toys and old wives tales, whereof their Books of Palmistry are full. They therefore are very fools that give credit to such predictions. Of the Palmistry of Christians. But Christians have a true and sure kind of chiromancy which they may use. For if men consider only their hands, with what workmanship they are made, for how many uses they may serve, and how profitable and necessary they are for them, they shall find in them an infinite number of marks to make them good diviners; yea it will teach them to divine that of necessity there was a God and a Creator, who was the workmaster that made that work and those so excellent instruments, whose use and commodity can not sufficiently be conceived. For although we had never heard of God or of his providence, this only consideration ought to be sufficient to teach us to seek him, and to hold up towards him those hands which he hath given us. If therefore by the contemplation of our hands, and by those marks of the power, wisdom, goodness and providence of God, which are imprinted in them, we can learn such a Science and Art of Divination, as will the better induce us to glorify God in the workmanship of our bodies, then do we profit greatly therein. And this we ought to do, not only by the contemplation of our hands, but also of all the residue of the members and parts of our body, even unto our very hairs and nails. For we have not so many Preachers only of his glory and magnificence in our bodies, as we have members, but also as there are hairs in the head. For there is nothing, no not so much as a little hair, (as we shall see hereafter) whereby God doth not testify his divine providence. Wherefore if we should by piece-meal lay open only those principal things which are to be considered in all the parts of the arm and hand, and those testimonies of the great providence of God that may be found and noted in them, a whole day would not suffice: although we did only behold the great workmanship that is, I say not in the whole hand, but in one finger thereof. For it is an instrument which God hath given only to man, to touch and to take with, to gripe and to use in his own behalf in stead of all kind of defensive weapons. The use of the hand. In this respect he made it of such a fashion that he can lay hold of, and apprehend all things either great or small, of what form or figure soever they be, whether round, square, or otherwise. And therefore it was requisite that the fingers of the hand should be unequal, that they should be placed and disposed as they are, thereby the better to gripe and to lay hold of all things. For albeit some of them be longer than others, yet when we close our hand, and gripe anything, they are all equal. And as God hath given to man a mind capable of understanding & knowledge, so also he hath adorned him with this excellent instrument, which is so necessary for all Arts, that without this, those other would remain idle. In a word, it is an instrument which man could not want neither in peace nor war. Neither is there any thing to be found therein, which doth not serve very fitly for all duties of the hand, as also nothing is wanting that is necessary. The very nails have two excellent properties: The properties of the nails. the one is, that they serve for a covering and an ornament to the ends of the fingers: the other, that they help to take hold of, and to gather little and hard things. For this cause also they are so convenient both for matter and form, and so fitly fastened and set in their places, as better could not be devised. But let us consider of the whole arm or hand, to see the composition and division thereof. As we said before of the leg, so there is in the whole arm three great and principal parts, Of the three parts of the whole arm. taking all that member which is from the shoulders unto the ends of the fingers. The first is the hand, which likewise hath three chief parts, namely, that which is joined with the lower part of the arm from the elbow unto itself, and it is called the wrist: the second is the hollow palm which is apt to gripe with, Three parts of the hand. together with the back of it on the other side: then the fingers make the third part, being so made and placed as they are fittest to take easily, to gripe, to close, and to crush. In so much that whatsoever hath been spoken by me worthy consideration in the legs and feet touching their office, and all those motions that are apt, and necessary for them, the same also may be plainly seen in the whole hand and arm. The second principal part of the whole arm is that which is taken from the elbow unto the hand: the third is from the shoulder unto the elbow, and both the one and the other are so coupled together with their joints and bands, as is most requisite for all their motions. Thus ye see what in my opinion ought chief to be known in this our present matter. Now seeing we have begun to take a view of the foundation of the frame of man by the consideration of the fourth compounded part of the body, I think that before we handle the other three, we shall do well to behold the wonderful composition of many bones, which serve also to sustain the whole stock of the body, and upon which the backbone is chief grounded. Therefore thou ASER entreating thereof, and of the ribs and other bones of man's body shalt prepare the way for us to proceed in the description of our building, even unto the top and highest place of the whole frame. Of the backbone and of the marrow thereof: of the ribs and of other bones of man's body. Chap. 5. ASER. Those Philosophers that were endued with greatest knowledge of those excellent things that are hid in man's nature, stood much upon the contemplation of this, that his face was lift up towards heaven: whereupon they concluded, that he ought to abandon all carking care of base and earthly thing to contemplate those things that are above and heavenly, and in the knowledge of them to satisfy the desires of his soul. And truly this is worthy to be considered, that amongst terrestrial creatures which walk upon the earth, God hath created none with two legs only, or that is made strait and bolt upright, but man. Therefore he only and no other hath the ridgebone made according to the straightness of the legs: which is neither in four-footed beasts, nor in birds, albeit they go upon two feet, and have their head lifted upward. For as well their legs, as those of four-footed beasts are so placed in regard of the backbone when they walk, as men's legs are when they sit down, namely cornerwise, not downright. But when men go, their legs are stretched strait with the backbone, (which is like the keel of a ship) unto which all the bones belonging to the stock of the body are conjoined, every one being answerable each to other according to their proportion: as the other pieces of wood whereof a ship is made, are joined with the keel by that knitting together which they have therewith. For this cause the whole body of man is strait, and can stand upright, and sit down. But no beast can do either of them, because there is no such uprightness void of corners between their backbone and their legs, as there is in man. Therefore they can neither hold nor do any thing either standing or sitting. For although they can stay themselves upon their haunches, yet they cannot sit altogether like to man. And contrariwise, man can do nothing well lying along or with his belly downward as beasts use: but standing or sitting he can do all his affairs very easily. To this end hath GOD given him legs and feet, arms and hands, of which we spoke before. Now as hitherto we have seen the lowest foundation of man's building, namely the feet and legs, so here we must know that there is yet another wonderful frame of bones, as it were a new foundation for the whole stock of the body, and residue thereof. Amongst others some are very strong, being placed crosswise to uphold the rest: they serve also for the defence of many inward parts that are against them. Upon this second foundation the backbone is laid, Of the backbone. which reacheth up to the head, and is very artificially made. For first, because a man cannot always stand upright, but must sometime bend himself, or lie down, or turn from one side to another, it is not made all one bone, but it consisteth of many bones, namely of four and twenty, which are called the knuckles or turning joints of the backbone. Eccles. 12. 6. For this cause Solomon very fitly calleth it the silver chain or cord, which lengtheneth, or shrinketh being consumed with extreme old age. For it is framed after the fashion of a chain, and holdeth the lower parts of the body, as it were tied and chained unto the highest part, which is the head. Again, it is not without good cause called 〈◊〉 chain of silver. For it is a very precious part of the body, and aught to be greatly accounted of, both because the body standeth in need of it, and also for many great benefits which it receiveth thereby. True it is that some understand by this chain of silver, the uniting and agreement of matters whereof the body of man is made, being taken from all the Elements, and joined together by a goodly harmony and proportion. But the former exposition seemeth to me most fit, because of that similitude which the backbone and joints of it with their use, have with a chain and the use-thereof. For if the chinbone were all of one piece, a man should be always stiff like to a pale, or like to a log or body of a tree: and so the stock of the body could not enjoy those motions that are necessary for it, as we see all the members have agreeable to their nature. For they are not planted into the stock of the body, as boughs and branches are into the stock of a tree, which are without motion aswell as their stock. Likewise man (whom the Philosophers called a Tree turned upward, because he hath his roots in his head) is a far other kind of plant then those are, which being in the earth, stir not out of one place. For it is a tree to be carried about, whose branches have their natural motion. And as touching those bones whereof the chinbone is made, they are so ordered, that the first which sustaineth all the rest, as the principal foundation (being called Os sacrum, Of the holy bone. that is, The holy bone) is the largest, biggest and strongest: and being joined to the hips is very artificially framed of three bones, and sometimes of five or six. Wherefore some think that it is so called by reason of the artificial composition thereof: others, because of the greatness: and some, because it helpeth women in their travail, as that whose knitting together openeth with the hippe-bones in them that bring forth children. Others say, that there is no opening, but only that it stretcheth forth and enlargeth itself. There are some also that think it is so called, because it is so necessary unto life, that after it is once hurt, death followeth. After this bone, the rest that follow are less and less until you come to the highest: insomuch that the lowest are biggest, and the highest least, to the end that as they are the foundation one of another, so they might be able to bear that charge which they are to sustain, and be the less burdened. And as for the conjunction and uniting of them together, it is so well contrived, that it hath so much strength as is necessary for it, and is neither too soft, nor too hard, too dry nor too wet and slippery, but that which is meet for their motions. This order of bones and turning joints thus ranged, is properly called the backbone or Chine, and in Latin Spina dorsi, because of the sharp ends or points which each of them hath oneverie side for his defence, as it were thorns. Of the marrow of the chine. This whole chine hath a marrow proceeding from the hinder part of the brain, and reaching down to the neither end of the backbone: which being round in shape, is as a river whose spring is in the brain, from whence it proceedeth as the great Artery doth out of the heart, and the hollow vain out of the liver, as we have already declared, and may entreat thereof more at large in speaking of the inner parts of the body. Therefore as the great artery is as it were the stock of all the rest, being planted in the heart from whence it springeth, and the hollow vain whose fountain is in the liver, is as it were the stock of the other veins: so the marrow of the chine is as it were the stock and spring from whence all the sinews issue, which afterward like to little rivers impart their sense and motion. And because the fountain of this river is in the brain, therefore also the original of sinews is attributed thereunto, notwithstanding that all those sinews which give motion and sense to the parts that are under the head, except it be to the entrails and guts, proceed from the marrow of the chine. Hereby we may note once again, that that place alleged by me out of Solomon where he calleth the backbone a silver chain, Eccles. 12. agreeth also very fitly with that which is here spoken. For seeing the sinews distribute sense and motion to all the members of the body, as it hath been already told us, and have their beginning from the brain and marrow of the chine, we may well say that it is a chain and cord of a great length, which extendeth itself very far by reason of other chains and strings proceeding from it. For as the backbone may be resembled to a chain, so the marrow within it is like to a cord, whereof all the sinews, which are as it were the little strings of all the members of the body, have their beginning and increase. And therefore some in stead of a silver chain translate, a chord or thread of silver, as we read in the common Latin translation: but the sense is all one. And that which Solomon addeth after of the golden ewer which is broken in old-age, with the exposition of the best learned given thereof, agreeth also very well to this effect. Of the skin of the brain called the golden Ewer. For by this golden Ewer they understand the skin that covereth the brain, which is of a yellowish colour, resembling the colour of gold. It is very fitly called a Ewer, because it is a vessel contianing the matter and nourishment of the sinews, and as it were the fountain of all the motions and senses of the body: it is as it were the lodging of all the animal parts, and the original of all the senses both internal and external. Wherefore the matter of the brain contained within it is of a more celestial nature than any other part of the body, and cometh nearest to the spiritual and divine natures. So that this vessel is not without good and just cause called by Solomon the Ewer of gold. For there is in it a fountain out of which man receiveth great treasures. Now because the sinews, arteries and veins were to have their passage and issue from their fountain without let or hindrance, it was requisite that the backbone should have such holes as it hath, and that the bones thereof should be of that fashion they are, to the end that neither themselves, nor the marrow within might be easily broken, and that the next parts and members might not be hurt. For it is very dangerous to have any rapture or hurt in the chine aswell by reason of the marrow as of the sinews. And because it pleased God to lodge there those internal members of the body, that are most necessary for life and for the preservation thereof, Of the ribs. he fastened the ribs to both sides of the backbone, namely twelve on every side: and hath left a sufficient space betwixt them, that the place might be able to receive those members, for whose cause they were so built & disposed. So that there are before and behind, especially about the noblest members, very long and large bones, to defend them on all sides (as it were good harness and strong bulwarks) but chief behind, because the arms and hands cannot so well defend them, as they may the other before. Therefore God hath better armed them with bones, making those of the shoulders so large behind as they are, and knitting them also unto the backbone by their band, but yet so that they touch it not. Likewise they are fastened to the highest bone in the breast which reacheth up to the throat, above the first rib, by two little bones which pass over the ribs that are betwixt them. For this cause these bones are called the keys of the throat. The keys of the throat. For they close and shut up these parts as it were keys, so that without them shoulder blades would fall backward, being no more able to keep close together, than the poldron of an harness not being fastened to the gorget. The arms likewise are fastened to the shoulders, as also the thighs and legs to the hips: then the hands are joined to the arms with their joints and bands, as hath been touched before. Now we are to note further, according to that I spoke even now, that the backbone is in a man's body, as the keel in a ship: so that as the rest of the matter and form of the ship must be well proportioned and framed according to the keel, so is it in the composition of man's body, and in that correspondency, which all the members ought to have with the ridgebone of which they all depend, otherwise there would be no good agreement but great deformity. And as for the ribs and breast bones, they have such workmanship as is requisite for the members contained within the ribs. Of the workmanship of the ribs and of other bones. For seeing the members of man's breathing are closed within, needful it is that they should not only be defended and armed with bones for their guard and preservation, but also that these bones should be so placed, that they might enlarge and restrain themselves, open and close again, in such wise that the breathing and members thereof be not hindered in their motions. Therefore they are all by nature less hard than the other: beside, they are many, to the end there might be spaces betwixt them, not only for the enlarging & restraining of the breast, but also that the muscles might be placed between the ribs. And this is one cause, why it was needful that the backbone should be framed as it is, namely, that it might be more commodious for respiration. And because the stomach also standeth in need of enlargement and restraint according to the quantity of the meat which it receiveth, and according as it is lift up and pressed down thereby, therefore it was requisite that it should have the like help. But forasmuch as it might soon be hurt by reason of the hardness of the ribs, if they were driven and forced against it, God hath so disposed those ribs wherewith he hath defended the stomach, that they are neither so long nor so hard as the rest. For they are of a softer kind of bone, drawing nearer to the nature of gristles than the other, and the more they descend downward, the shorter they are. Therefore the lower part of the ribs are commonly called the false ribs, How many false ribs there are. or bastard ribs, which on each side are five in number; the other seven ending at the breastbone, to the end they may defend and guard the heart & lungs, which are vital parts. Hereupon when any hath been wounded to death, it is often said in the holy scriptures, 2. Sam. 2. 23. & 3. 27. that he was stricken under the fift rib, because no blow pierceth those parts, but it hurteth some one of the vital members, which cannot be wounded, but that death followeth thereupon. We see then how the providence of God did well forcsee whatsoever was requisite in this work of man's body, and hath provided thereafter as need required: as we may easily judge by that which we have heard of the bones only, which parts are most earthy and massy, and are void of all sense. Wherefore we may well conceive how excellently this wisdom hath wrought in the other parts and members that are more noble. But we may judge a great deal better of all this, if we consider that our treatise of the bones only, is but very little in comparison of that which might be spoken, if a man would utter it as Physicians do, and distinguish properly of all the kinds of bones, and of their uses. Now to end the outward composition of the body touching the bones, we must consider of the share bone, and of the bones of the head, & of the marrow that is within the bones, and of the use of the neck. Last of all, we will cloth with flesh this dry Anatomy, that afterward we may come to those parts of our building that are most noble and excellent. Therefore it belongeth to thee AMANA to entreat of this subject. Of the share bone and marrow of the bones: of the bones in the head, and of the flesh: of the muscles and of their office. Chap. 6. AMANA. Nothing maketh the work of God in the composition of man's body more wonderful, than the beauty of his shape, and the exquisite art used in the work, wherein a man cannot change so much as a nail or an eyelid, which is but hair, but that some imperfection must be acknowledged therein, and some discommodity following thereupon will cause it to be perceived. For this cause the kingly Prophet considering his creation, speaketh as one ravished with admiration. I will (sayeth he) praise thee, Psal. 139. 14. for I am fearfully and wonderfully mad: marvelous are thy works, and my soul knoweth it well. He could not in all that Psalm marvel sufficiently at so excellent a work of God. Therefore he used a word which signifieth as much in the Hebrew tongue, as if in stead of our speech, thou hast framed or fashioned me, he should have said, I have benewoven or wrought in tissue and interlaced, and fashioned artificially as it were in broadery work. And truly no image or picture, how well soever it be painted and purtrayted, is to be compared with the form and figure of man's body: neither is there any work of tapistry, so well wrought and embroidered, or that hath such variety of exquisite art, and such diversity of figures, as that hath. And from what patterns do Painters and Ingravers take the fashion and form of those Images and pictures which they would draw forth, but from this? What is a piece of tapestry or embroidered work in comparison of a man's body, which is as it were an image of the whole world, and wherein a man may find almost the variety and draughts of all things contained in the whole frame of the world? This will evidently appear unto us in the sequel of our speeches, touching the compounded parts of the body. Therefore to finish the external composition of this human building concerning the bones, we will first note, that God in creating the belly hath not compassed it about with bones, Why the belly is not environed with bones. as he hath done the other parts of the body, and that chief for two causes. First, it is most meet it should be so, by reason of the meat it receiveth. Secondly, for the benefit of women that bear children. But to the end it might be upholden together with that burden it beareth, God hath given unto it the Share bone for a foundation, Of the Share bone, or tayl●bone. which also standeth instead of a bulwark for the bowels. And because a man cannot always stand upright, but must oftentimes sit down, not only to rest himself, but also to dispatch many works which he hath to do, therefore he hath the buttock bones and the flesh wherewith they are covered, Of the buttock bones. which are unto him in stead of a stool and a cushion to sit at his ease. And forasmuch as the bones are to be nourished, they have for their familiar food, the marrow, which by nature is moist, soft, fat, and sweet. Therefore it hath neither sinew nor sense, Of the marrow. but is within the bones, as the sap of trees is in the midst of their stocks and branches. For this cause job speaking of the prosperity of the wicked, job 21. 24. saith, His breasts are full of milk, and his bones run full of marrow. But this is strange, that seeing it is made of the thickest of the blood, as it were a superfluity of the meat, how it can be engendered within the bones, and draw nourishment from the veins, as other parts of the body do. But God knew well how to provide for that, and to make way for nourishment through the hardness of the bones, which are not all alike full of marrow. For as some of them are more dry or moister, more hard or softer than others, so they have more or less marrow: and some have none at all, because they need it not. Now this marrow whereof we speak now, differeth from that in the chinbone, which the Arabians call Nucha, Nucha. and is of the nature of the substance of the brain, from whence it proceedeth as a river from his fountain, for the generation of sinews, to which end the other marrow is not appointed of God, but only for the nourishment and preservation of the bones. Seeing then we are come to the brain, we must consider with what bones God hath enclosed it on every side for the defence thereof, how many in all there are in the head both before and behind, on the right side and on the left, above and beneath: of what form, breadth, length, and hardness, and how they are joined one with another by seams and bands, and that not without great reason and consideration of the Workmaster, which made such an excellent piece of work. Of the bones of the head. For first, there are commonly six bones, which compass the brain on each side, besides that which is called the Wedgelike bone, which is under the palate of the mouth, and unto which all the rest are fastened. And because there are many vessels and members in the brain and head, God hath made the head of a round figure, reaching somewhat in length, and bulking out somewhat more both before & behind. Now forasmuch as vapours, fumes, and smoky excrements mount upward, therefore he hath created the head, and those bones of the head that are highest, not so solid and thick as the rest, to the end the vapours and fumes should not continue enclosed within the brain, but might evaporate, and so disburden the brain: otherwise it would be very ill at ease, and subject to many diseases. Therefore all of them together are so made one bone, that yet they are not all of one and the same piece, but joined together, not by ligaments, as many sundry and several bones are, but by such a proper and apt conjunction, that there appeareth between them as it were a seam made after the manner of a Saw or Combe, as if they were very finely sewed together. And because the bones behind could not have that help of the hands, for their defence which the bones before may have, God hath created them more hard and stronger. Besides, they all are to the brain and to every part thereof, in stead of an helmet and murrion to defend it on every side. Thus you see the composition of the head touching the bones thereof, which is so joined to the body by the backbone, that nothing but the neck, which is the upper end of the chine, Of the neck and use thereof. is between them. For it was necessarily to have motion both above and beneath, before and behind, and on both sides: which could not have been if it had been fastened to the shoulders without any space between, which is necessary also both for breathing, for voice, and for many other purposes that may be noted hereafter. And albeit the neck served for nothing else but for voice, yet is it so necessary, that without it a man could have no voice, nor any other creature to which it is given, as appeareth in those that have no neck. For all beasts that want the neck, want also the voice, as we may see both in fishes, and in those beasts which the Latins call Insecta animalia: the reason is because they have no neck whereby to join their head with the rest of their body, but only as it were a little thread, which holdeth both the one and the other close together. Now that we are come to the top of the building of man's body, and have set him upright, as it were a dried Anatomy, we must come next to the covering of the bones, sinews and other parts mentioned by us, to the end that after we have finished the description of the outward parts, we may speak also of those that are within. Of the flesh. The flesh than is the first garment wherewith the bones are covered: and it is properly called by that name which is given to that part whereof the Muscles are compounded. For some under the name of Flesh comprehend the Kernels and the fat, because of the agreement which these parts have one with another, and by reason of their use. For as for the flesh, it hath this in common with the Kernels and fat, that it is soft and tender: but herein it differeth from that matter whereof Kernels are made, in that the matter of Kernels is more Sponge-like. We learned before that Flesh is a substance of blood, and how it is made thereof. Concerning the Muscles, we use to call by that name the proper instrument that moveth voluntarily all the members of the body. Of the muscles. Therefore it is compounded and made of threads proceeding from the sinews, and of ligaments compassed about with a great deal of flesh, insomuch that when the Muscles are taken away from the body, there remaineth almost nothing but bare bones. Their proper place is in all places of the body where there are joints and where motion is required. For without them the body cannot have that voluntary motion whereof I spoke even now, What voluntary motion is. and which is so called, because thereby a man may move and remove his members from one place to another as he thinketh good, and as he shall judge it needful for himself. Wherefore we must know that the brain which is the seat of the animal parts, and the original of the all the sinews, and of all motions and senses given to the body by them, is in respect of the whole body like to a Waggonner that guideth his Wagon, and the Muscles are like to the bits and bridles of horses, to cause them to retire or set forward as the Waggonner pleaseth, either to draw them backward, or to drive them forward, to pull in or to let lose the bridle. The sinews are as it were the reins and leathers fastened to the bridles, to hold them in, or to let them lose, and to turn them both on the right hand and on the left: then those members of the body which move it from one place to another, A comparison betwixt the body and a chariot. are as it were the horses that are led and guided by this means, and the rest of the body is like to the Chariot and the burden which it carrieth. And for this cause the Muscles are compounded of ligaments, sinews and flesh. For as the ligaments serve to knit them together, and the sinews minister sense and motion, so the flesh serveth to the benefit of those little strings that proceed from the ligaments and sinews: first to nourish them, then to hold them up fostly, as if they leaned upon little cushions and pillows, and lastly, to keep them aswell against the vehemency of internal heat, as against the heat, cold, and hardness that comes from without. Likewise the flesh performeth all these things unto the rest of the threads that are throughout the whole body, both in the heart and in the stomach, and in other parts that have flesh. But we have further to note the great differences of flesh that are in all the parts of the body, that we may still increase in the knowledge of the marucilous works of God, and of his divine providence. For there is great difference between that flesh where with the bones, ligaments and sinews are covered and clothed, and that of the internal parts of the body, which also differeth in quality, albeit all is compounded of one and the same matter. For what difference is there betwixt that flesh which is between the skin and the bones, The differences of flesh. and that of the brain: as also that of thelungs, heart, liver, spleen and kidneys? Not one of all these members hath his flesh like to any of the rest, but they all differ very much according to the nature and office of the compounded members. For the flesh of the brain is by nature apt for the generation of the animal spirits, as that of the heart for the vital spirits, and that of the lungs for air and breathing, that of the liver to turn the matter which it receiveth from the stomach into blood and into nourishment for all the members: that of the spleen to draw the gross blood which is as it were the Lees of the blood, and to nourish itself thereby: that of the kidneys also to draw so much blood as is requisite for their nourishment, and likewise to draw the urine, which after they send into the bladder. Thus you see how every of these internal parts of the body is compounded of flesh meet for his nature and office. Whereby we see many and sundry shops within man's body, whereof every one hath his proper work about which it is busied, and such a nature as is agreeable to that work which GOD hath assigned unto it, who is the Creator and the Workmaster, and effecteth all these works by his heavenly providence. Moreover, divers uses of the flesh. we have to note that the flesh generally serveth the whole body for matter of filling, to keep close all the members thereof, and namely all the bowels, and to fill all the spaces between them, as also to strengthen all those parts that are environed therewith, to the end they might not easily be shaken in pieces. It defendeth also all the members both against heat and cold. Likewise if any man fall, or lie down, it serveth him for a bolster or soft pillow, and for a shelter against bruises, and a defence against wounds, for a shadow against heat, and a gown against cold. And thus much I think sufficient to be known concerning this present Subject. Now before we take any other matter in hand, we are to consider of the Kernels that are in the body, because of their excellent use and property: especially we are to consider of the Dugs, wherein appeareth a singular work of GOD, namely in women, as we may presently hear of ARAM. Of the kernels in the body, and of their sundry uses, especially of the breasts of women, of their beautiè and profit in nourishing of children, and of the generation of milk. Chap. 7. ARAM. He that should only stay in considering the lump and confused matter whereof man is daily made, he should see therein but a little slime, yea such vile corruption and rottenness, that a man would be even ashamed to name it. But as a painter with his colours & draughts of his pencil giveth a form to that matter whereof he maketh his piece of work, and painteth limb after limb, and piece after piece: so the Lord giveth by little and little and by piecemeal to that confused mass and lump, such form and fashion as it pleaseth him to bestow upon it in that time which he hath appointed for that purpose: and, as he useth to do, beginning always at the least and weakest part, and at that which is as it were nothing, he still continueth and increaseth his work until it be perfit and absolute. Likewise, after we have considered of the least & most earthy parts that are in the corruptible matter of the body, we will look into them that are more excellent, and then come to the contemplation of that immortal essence, which dwelleth in him. Therefore I will now go on with our matter Subject. Those parts of the body that are called Kernels (by reason of the similitude they have with nuts) are of two sorts, Two kinds of Kernels in the body. and have their use and commodity very great, especially in two respects. For some are by nature more thick and dry, and serve to fasten the upper partition of the members and vessels of the body, to the end they should neither break nor cleave. Therefore we have such Kernels in the neck, in the armpits, in the groins, and in those parts where the elbow and the ham bend, and in certain other parts. There are others not so thick by nature, and more spongy and moist, and full either of milk, or of seed, or else of a phlegmatic and glewish humour. Now albeit all kinds of Kernels are given to the body to drink up the humours, and to moisten the other parts, nevertheless those that are of this latter kind, serve chief for the first use. We have such also to moisten all the parts of the mouth, and of the throat by the means of spittle, that so they may be kept from drought, and that thirst may be repelled and moderated. Likewise they are very serviceable to the life of man, in that they soak and drink up, as it were spoonges, the phlegm that descendeth from the brain, that it should not fall upon the lungs, or into the stomach, or upon other parts of the body, to the great damage and danger thereof, as it happeneth to such as are short breathed and in consumptions, and to them that are troubled with rheums. And as these serve in the mouth and throat for spittle, so there are many, and those very great ones in women's paps, especially when they have milk to the making whereof they serve, as also those that are in more secret parts which serve for seed, namely to keep it, to dress it, and to prepare it for generation. Therefore it is that those kernels which are in the breasts of men and of young maidens are less and harder. The least part in man full of admiration, and very profitable. We ought not here to pass over without great admiration, the good temperature and disposition, which GOD hath made of the whole matter and form, and of all the parts and members of man's body, insomuch that there is nothing how little or vile socuer, which is superfluous, which is not very commodious and profitable, and which is not wonderfully well applied and appropriated to such places as are most fit for it, and to those uses whereunto it ought to serve. For who would have thought that these kernels thus dispersed throughout the body, were so many ways serviceable unto it as we see they are? Yea we might here rehearse many more uses if we would speak more particularly of this matter, whereof we mean to speak but generally, as also of all the rest that concern the anatomy of the body, according to that end which we propounded to ourselves in the entry of our speeches, namely, to open a gap only to the consideration, first of the matter whereof man's body is compounded, and of the diversity thereof: then of that form which God hath given unto it: and lastly of the profit and use of both: to the end we might daily learn the better to know the great power, skill, wisdom, goodness and providence of him that hath created and disposed all things in so good order. But as touching that which we spoke of the paps, and of their substance, we have yet to consider of two points well worthy the noting, concerning the place where God hath seated them. Of the paps, & of their situation, and use. First, they are there placed where they serve to shroud and to defend the noblest and most necessary parts for life that are in the breast, namely the heart and the lungs. For they are set before them to countergard and keep them, both from over great heat, and from excessive cold, and from many other inconveniences. And as they serve for the heat of the heart, so their own heat is increased by reason they are so near the heart, whereby the milk that is engendered in them is the better baked. So that we see, that although GOD hath not given men paps for the generation of milk and nourishing of children, as women have, nevertheless they are not without profit, and use in them, as we have heard. Whereunto also we may add the beautifying of that part of the body where they are placed, especially in women. Again, could they possibly be set in any place, that were more fit and more easy, both for Mothers and Nurses, and for the children to whom they give suck and nourishment? For if the mother be disposed to give her child suck, she hath this commodity to sit down if she will, to hold it in her bosom, and upon her knees, and likewise to embrace it in her arms, whether she sit, lie down, or stand: also she may carry it up and down whither she please, even whilst she giveth it suck, and feedeth it. This commodity is not granted to the females of beasts when they give suck and nourish their little ones with their teats. Wherein we have to mark one notable difference which GOD hath put between men and beasts. The difference between the care of men and beasts over their little ones. For beasts have no other care of their young ones, but only to nourish their bodies with food until they be able to feed and govern themselves: afterward, both sire and dam and little ones forget one another, taking no more knowledge each of other, nor loving one another more than other beasts of their kind. But amongst men, both the father and the mother are carried with an affection towards their little children, which is the cause why they forget them not as beasts do. And as they love their children, so are they loved of them, insomuch that there is a mutual love proceeding from that natural affection which they bear one towards another. On the other side, this love causeth parents to let their children have instruction, that they may be wise and virtuous. And therefore it is not without good cause that women's paps are placed in the breast, namely, to the end they should be unto them as signs and testimonies of the affection of the heart, and of that love which they ought to bear towards their children, whereof they ought to make them partakers aswell as of the milk of their breasts, and as if they gave unto them their heart, as they give them their blood turned into milk. Likewise, children are by the selfsame means to be admonished of that mutual affection and love, A good lesson for children. which they ought to carry towards their mothers, as if they had sucked it out of their breasts, and from their heart together with their milk, that they may return the like unto them again. Wherefore, mothers and children have a wise mistress in nature, and in the providence of God that appeareth therein, if they knew how to follow it well. Again, for this cause mothers ought to take greater delight in nourishing their own children, then in committing them to the hands of strangers and hired Nurses. For out of doubt, the mutual affection and love of each to other would greatly increase thereby. Now having spoken of the place which God hath assigned to the paps, Of the form of the paps. let us consider his providence in their form, which is such, that fairer and more fit for that office of theirs could not be devised. For we see how they hang there in the breast of the mother and Nurse, as it were two bottles, having nipples and holes made fit for the infant's mouth, that he might take hold of them, and draw and suck the milk that is within the dugs, which are filled presently after the child is borne, so that he is no sooner come into the world, but he hath such food and nourishment ready dressed as is meet for him. For albeit the infant bringeth his teeth with him from his mother's womb, yet because they are hid within the gums, and are not yet come forth, he must have such meat as needeth no chewing, but may be sucked, which GOD hath provided for him. Wherein we have a wonderful testimony of the care he hath over us, and what kind of Father and cherisher he is. For this cause David had good reason to say, Psal. 8. 2. Out of the mouth of babes and suckelings hast thou ordained strength, because of thine enemies. For if one consider the providence of God, which daily showeth itself over children only, there is no Atheist, Epicure, or other enemy of God so great, which shall not be confounded, convinced, and constrained, will he nill he, to give glory to GOD. For before children can speak, even from their mother's breasts, they show forth and preach the providence of God in providing milk for them. How children ●resed in their mother's belly. But we shall find it a matter of greater admiration, if we consider not only in what manner they are nourished presently after their birth, but also how they are nourished in their mother's womb. For there they are not sustained by the mouth, nor with milk, as they are after their birth, but with their mothers own blood received by the Navel, which is in the midst of the body. But God hath made such an agreement between the womb in which the little child is nourished in his mother's belly, and betwixt her breasts, that that blood wherewith the Infant was feed before it was borne, presently after the birth ascendeth into her paps, How and whereof milk is made. in which, by reason of the abode it maketh there, it becometh white, and is so well heated and prepared, that it hath as convenient and pleasant a taste, as can be put into the infant's mouth. And as for the substance of the milk, there cannot be any that is more fit to nourish it or more natural, seeing it is the accustomed and usual sustenance: neither is there any difference, but only in that it is otherwise coloured, being somewhat changed in taste & savour, as also in this, that the infant receiveth it by another passage than it did before. Wherefore it is needful that it should have a convenient and pleasant taste for the mouth that receiveth it: as also it is very requisite that it should be of that colour which it receiveth in the paps. For it would be strange to see the infant draw blood from his mother's breast, to have his throat full of it, and his mouth bloody. All these things show well that the Prophets had good cause to say, that the mouths of little infants preach the praises of God's providence, and confound his enemies. For when that food which God giveth to nourish them in their mother's womb can feed them no more there, it hath pipes whereby to retire to that place in which it may perform the ●ame duty, and that so fitly, that if that blood which is turned into milk did descend, as it ascendeth by veins which pass from the womb to the breasts, the providence of GOD would not so manifestly appear as it doth. And therefore we see by experience, that so long as the child is nourished in his mother's womb, there is no milk in the breasts, but after it is borne, the blood that ran even unto the womb, ascendeth upward by veins, making a good long journey before it come to the breasts. How the milk is wrought and whited. For these veins reach up hard to the throat on every side, insomuch that the blood which they carry to the paps ascendeth above the breasts, and then descendeth into them: to this end, that through the length of time wherein it abideth in the veins, it might have more leisure to be the better wrought, and to be turned into milk, and into that white colour which it receiveth. And the milk is made the whiter, not only through the abode which it maketh in the breasts, but also by the means of that kernelly flesh whereof they are compounded. For it is of a whitish colour, that it might give the same colour to the milk, whereof the paps are the vessels. So that here we may the better know (as we touched before) why GOD by his providence made the breasts of that matter and colour whereof they consist. Now we have further to note another point wherein God hath very well provided for the comfort of women, as it were a recompense for the pains and travail which they have both in the bearing and bringing up of their children, namely, that whilst a woman is withchilde, and giveth suck to her infant, she hath not her monthly and usual purgations, because her superfluous blood, and that which at other times is an excrement and must be voided, is not then any longer a superfluous excrement, (if she be not otherwise evil affected in body by sickness) but is turned into the food of the child, Whereof women milk is made. whether she beareth it in her belly, or giveth it suck with her breasts. Wherein we see a marvelous work of God. For it is all one as if he turned poison or venom into good meat and nourishment, yea into most dainty food, for the use of such a delicate mouth and tender nature as an infant hath that is newly borne. Further also we will note here, that so long as the infant is in his mother's belly, it is nourished more like to a plant, then to those living creatures which receive their food by their throat. And yet after he is borne, he knoweth well wherefore his mouth serveth before ever he used it, without any other Master or Mistress to teach him this skill them the providence of God, which showeth itself also in other creatures in the like case, but not in such evident and excellent manner. How and where an infant receiveth breath and food in the womb. We may say the like of the breath which the infant receiveth not in 〈◊〉 mother's womb by his mouth, no more than the meat wherewith he is fed, nor yet by the nostrils, which are more specially given to the body for that purpose, but by the navel which is appointed to be the pipe to convey both unto him before he be borne. But the discourse of this matter will fall out more fitly hereafter to be handled at large, when we shall speak of the natural and internal powers of the soul. Wherefore it is time to finish the covering of our building, and so make an end of the speeches of this days work. Therefore it belongeth to thee ACHITOR, to cover it with skin and hair, unless you think good first to tell us something of the fat that is found within the skin. Of the fat and skins of man's body and of their use: of the hairs thereof. Chap. 8. ACHITOB. Hitherto our intent hath been, after speech had of man's creation, first to erect up his tabernacle, as it were a d●ie Anatomy, which is a body consisting only of bones. After we clothed it with sinews, muscles, ligaments, flesh, and kernels, which serve it for a garment, A similitude. or standeth in stead of mortar or plaster for the walls of a building. For in this edifice of man's body, the bones occupy the place of stone, which must afterward be committed to the Mason to cause them to keep close together, every one in his place. But yet we have to white it over, which is the last covering, to make it fairer, better polished, and more perfect. For if we consider it only as hitherto it hath been set out unto us, we shall see it but as it were a frame not polished, nor made perfect without: or as it were a body without a skin, which is not very pleasant to sight. Therefore we will now put on the last garment, which covereth all the rest, namely the skin: but first a word of the fat, which being within, is of great force to preserve and keep it. I will not stay here to declare how and by what means the fat, as also the kernels and paps are made of the blood, because our principal scope is to show the providence of God in the use of all the parts of the body, leaving to the Physicians that which appertaineth to their office, touching the entire and perfect knowledge of the Anatomy of the body. Seeing then we are to speak of the fat that is found in the body, The uses of fat in the body. it serveth for the defence and preservation of those parts that are covered therewith, not only against heat and cold, and other things that come from without, which might endamage those parts, but also to keep in natural heat the longer, by whose virtue concoction of meat (commonly 〈◊〉 led digestion) is made in the body. Likewise it is very profitable for those parts that are in greatest and most usual motion, to supple and anoint them, as well to make them more nimble and ready to move, as to preserve them from drying, and so consequently from bruising and wasting. There is also in many places a certain humour which serveth to anoint the joints and their ligaments, and the small ends of the gristles. For moisture helpeth motion very much, and preserveth those parts that are moved, as we see by experience in chariot wheels. For when the axeltrees are greased, about which they move, they do not only turn about more easily, but also last and continue longer: whereas although they were all of iron, yet they would wear away and be set on fire of themselves, if they were not anointed and moistened with some humour. Now let us come to consider of the covering of man's body. As therefore a man useth not one only garment, but divers, so is it with the body. For first he is clothed with three skins, Three skins of the body. that are great, long and large, with which he is covered clean over from the sole of the foot to the top of the head. The first skin hath no feeling no● blood. The first is a little skin very thin, which of itself hath no feeling, being made of the second skin which it covereth: and this second skin is made of sinews, flesh, and little veins, and in some places of little arteries, being as it were of a middle nature between the sinews and the flesh. Therefore this skin hath feeling throughout, and is not without blood as the first is. There is also a third skin under the second, which is more fleshy, and therefore it is thicker and more strong, unto which the muscles cleave, and through which very thin arteries and productions of sinews pass, which tie it with the other skin. The fat of the body is between these two skins, which serve the whole body not only for a covering, but also for an ornament, especially those that are most without, which in men's bodies stand in stead of that skin wherewith the bodies of beasts are covered. Besides these three skins that cover all the body, there are within, many other particular skins of divers sorts, to cover the members that are there, which the Physicians call Membranes and Tunicles, Of membrance and tunicles. with such other names agreeable to their Art, to distinguish them one from an other according to each of their offices. For there are many in the head to cover, fold up, and to contain the inward parts thereof and of the brain: as also in the breast, and consequently in other parts and members within. Among the rest some are like to nets and coifs: others resemble littl● sacks or bands, according as those members are which they are to cover, serving also for defence unto them, and to distinguish and separate the parts one from an other. We will leave to the Physician to number and to distinguish them, and to name every one by their proper name: and now come to consider the last covering which is upon the body in certain places, especially upon the head, Of the hairs. and that is the hair, which principally aboundeth in the head, both in men and women, because it proceedeth out of a moist and soft place. And to the end it might take the better root there, the skin that is underneath it, is very thick and fleshy. The profit of the hair is great, and serveth for many things. First, it is the ornament and beauty of the head. For as the face would be evil favoured and unsightly, if it were hairy, so contrariwise, the head would be very deformed if it were skinnelesse, where it is covered with hair: as we may judge by them that have bald heads. Therefore because it is the top of the building of man's body, God would have it adorned with such a covering: which also standeth him in some stead to defend his brain, and to consume the grossest and most fumy excrements, of which the hairs of the head are engendered, so that they are a kind of purgation for it. Besides, it serveth for a covering to the head, which it may use at pleasure, as need requireth, against both heat and cold. For it doth not always need to be alike covered at one time and in one age, as at an other. Therefore a man may let them grow, or cut them, or shave them clean off, as is most commodious for every one. And when they wax grey and white through age, they put men in mind of two things. First, that they draw towards the grave and death, to the end they might in good time frame themselves thitherward, Good lessons for the grey headed. and if they have gone astray in youth and forgotten God, that then at length they should bethink themselves, and consider that they are no more young, and that they must shortly die: for although it be late, yet better late than never. But it is best to follow Salomons counsel, who admonisheth young men to remember God before the Almond three flourish: Eccles 12. 5. comparing an old man that is grey and white with age, to a blossomed tree, by reason of the whiteness of the flowers. For when a man flourisheth in this sort, his flowers put him in mind that the tree of his body drieth up, and that it looseth his natural strength: whereas the flowers of trees are testimonies of the vigour that is yet in them to bear fruit. Therefore we are very miserable, if we do not glorify God in our youth, neither think upon any other life then this. For we come far short of the life of trees, and are not of so long continuance, neither are we yearly renewed as they are, which seeming to be dead in winter flourish and wax green in spring time, as if they became young again. Which thing we are not to look for in this world, wherein we flourish contrary to trees, namely in winter, which is our old age. Secondly, grey and white hairs warneth men to have such manners as becometh that age and colour, that they may make old-age reverent, according to that saying of the wise man, Prou. 20. 29. The glory of the aged is the grey head. For such are those ancient men, whom God in his Law commandeth to be honoured, Levit. 19 32. when he saith, Thou shalt rise up before the horehead, and honour the person of the old man, and dread thy God. I am the Lord. Of the beard. The same consideration also aught to be in the beard, which is a great ornament to the face, and serveth to distinguish the sexes, and likewise the ages of men: unto whom they bring authority and majesty. For this cause the ancients did shave or poll their beards and hair in the time of mourning and affliction: so that when the Prophets denounced some great adversity and desolation, they foretold that every head should he ●ald, and cut, and shaven, and the beards in like manner: Esay 15. 2. 2. Sam. 10. 4. as it appeareth in the Prophecy of Esay against Moab and such like. We 〈◊〉 also that Hanun king of the Ammonites, shaved off the half of the beards of David's messengers to bring them in derision, whereupon they would not show themselves openly to the people until their beards were grown. Concerning women's hair, Of women's hair. Saint Paul testifieth expressly, that God hath given it unto them to admonish them of the subjection they own to their husbands, and of that power which they have over them, in token whereof they ought to have the head covered, especially in the assemblies of the Church. 1. Cor. 11. 5, 6. Therefore he saith, Every woman that prayeth or prophesieth bareheaded, dishonour thither head: for it is even one very thing, as though she were sh●●en. Therefore if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorned and if 〈◊〉 be shame for a woman to be pulled or shaven, let her be covered. Vers. 1●, 14, 15. And a little after: judge in yourselves, is it comely that a woman pray unto God uncovered? doth not nature itself teach you, that if a man have long hair, it is a shame unto him? But if a woman have long hair, it is a praise unto her: for her hair is given her for a covering. Wherein the Apostle laboureth chief to admonish women, that nature hath given to them longer hair then to men, and that it becometh them best to have it so, to the end they should keep their heads covered with some vail and honest covering, for the reasons declared by him: sending them to the school of nature to learn of her what modesty and honesty they ought to follow and to show in their hair. The school of Nature is the school of God. For indeed this school of nature is the school of God the creator of nature, in which he teacheth us by our own body, and by the nature thereof, what is convenient and honest for us. Therefore God hath not covered some parts of the body with hair for an ornament only, as the beard in men, and hair of the head both in men and women, and for other causes whereof I have spoken, but also to admonish them to cover that, which they can not discover without shame and villainy, whether it be by deed or word. Hereupon it is▪ that not only those parts of the body that are more honourable and noble, as the head and face, are adorned with hair to give them greater majesty, but also places more secret are covered therewith, to teach us, that the honour we own to them is to keep them covered and hid: and that they dishonour them greatly, and themselves also, who discover them, not only byvile and shameless handling, but also by infamous and dishonest words, as many do, that always have filthy speeches of whoredom in their mouths. For that which is dishonest to be seen and to be discovered to the eyes, is also dishonest to be heard, and to be disclosed to the ears, which we must keep chaste, as likewise the eyes, the tongue, the mouth, and the heart. Therefore they that behave themselves otherwise, do as if they meant to despite God and Nature, whom they will not follow as mistress. Wherefore, when Saint Paul sendeth women to the school of Nature to learn that lesson which is there taught them, he openeth unto us a great gap, whereby we may know what Mistress God bathe given us in nature, and what instructions we may receive from her, if we can understand her, and have the wit to know, and to comprehend all that she showeth us, even in our own bodies and go no further into her school, considering that there is not so little as one hair therein, from which we cannot take instruction. How great then would the profit be, if we could consider as we ought, other things that are more excellent, and of greater importance? Now that we have raised up the frame of man's body from the foundation unto the very top, we must to morrow by the help of God, in continuing our speech of the compound parts of the body, enter into the consideration of those goodly outward members wherewith the head is adorned, and of the senses of the body, unto which those serve as instruments. Therefore it belongeth to thee ASER, to begin the handling of such an excellent matter. The end of the first days work. THE SECOND days work. Of the bodily and external senses, especially of touching: of their members, instruments and offices. Chap. 9 ASER. They that have the greatest knowledge in human Arts, although it be in natural Philosophy, are not therefore more happy than others, unless they have learned to join therewith the knowledge of divinity. For albeit they have greater understanding of the nature of things created by God, than other men that have not been conversant in such studies, yet all their skill, being blind in respect of true and eternal wisdom, will profit them nothing, but only to make them more guilty before God, and worthy of greater condemnation, then if he had given them no more understanding than beasts have. And who knoweth not that the felicity and sovereign Good of man, Wherein true 〈◊〉 consisteth. consisteth not in the knowledge of the creatures and of their nature, but in the knowledge of the Creator that made them? Therefore we should labour in vain to know ourselves, if it did not lead us to the knowledge of God: yea it would help us nothing at all, but to manifest more evidently our ingratitude towards his Majesty, and to aggravate so much the more his just and fearful judgement upon our heads. Likewise we should reap little benefit by our careful inquiry into the matter and form of the frame of man, whereof we discoursed yesterday, if it served not unto us for an entrance into a deeper contemplation of the goodly works, that appear outwardly therein, and of those corporal senses that have their seats and instruments in them. And all this knowledge would do us little or no good at all, if we were not led thereby to the understanding of the internal senses of the soul, unto which the former serve as messengers and ministers, as these latter do unto the mind and understanding. Therefore in following this order let us ascend step by step to those things that are most excellent: and although the eye of our mind should dazzle when we draw near unto them, yet we shall gain greatly, because those things are very great which draw nearest to perfection. Having before compared the composition of man's body to a building, and having raised up all the outward parts of it unto the very top, it remaineth now that we set on the gates and windows. When a man would signify that a house is very lightsome and hath air enough, we commonly say that it is well boared or pierced. Which may truly be spoken of man's body in respect of those outward members, Of the beauty that is in the face. which God hath fashioned in the head, especially in the face, which he hath appointed for servants to the chief bodily senses, whose service also is afterward required for the spiritual and internal senses. It is in this part of our building and tabernacle, wherein God causeth the greatest beauty thereof to shine, I mean in the face, which is as it were an image of goodly, orient, and lively colours, enriched with many excellent works, not only in regard of the skin and painting, but also of the form, and of so many goodly and pleasant members as are ornaments unto it; yea, which are so necessary, that without them all the rest are as it were unprofitable, neither could they preserve and keep themselves. I speak not yet of those parts that are hidden, and contained within the head, but only of those members which appear outwardly, which are in such wise disposed every one in his place, that albeit they be not far distant one from another, yet the near joining of them together doth not cause them one to hinder the office of an other, notwithstanding their diversity, as we see evidently, and shall know more at large by the sequel of our speeches. Hereby doth God admonish us how we ought to behave ourselves one toward an other, A good instruction for every one. and dwell everyman within his boundo● and limits, not setting one upon an other, and not encroaching upon any thing that is our neighbours. For as these is spare and room enough in the head for all the senses and members that are there, and the like in the rest of the body for all the members whereof it is compounded, by reason of the good order, concord & consent that is amongst them: so the earth and the world is big enough, and hath goods enough for all, if we had skill and could bear one with another, and be content every one with his estate and office, and with those gifts which we have received from God, as members of one and the same body. If this good accord and consent were amongst us, a little place would please us: but if we do otherwise, all the world will not be great enough to suffice us. No rivers, seas, or mountains will be sufficient, to keep us within our bounds and borders. Therefore let us learn of the senses and members of our body, what rule we ought to keep one with an other. The bodily senses, which God hath given to man to be ministers and messengers to the spiritual senses of the mind, are five in number: Five corporal senses. namely, the sight, hearing, smelling, taste, and touching. To all the members & instruments of these senses, which shall be hereafter declared unto us, the faculty of sense is generally given by the sinews, which have their original from the brain, as we have already touched. So that hereby we see what is the dignity and excellency of the head, seeing God hath placed therein the fountain and spring not only of all the sense, but also of all the motions of the body, which are wrought by means of the sinews. For we must know, that four things are required in the office and use of the bodily senses. Four things required in bodily senses. The first is the power and virtue of the soul, which giveth sense by the animal spirit guided by the finewes. The second is the instrument being well applied and made fit for his use and office, by which the soul effecteth her work. The third is that thing that is to be perceived by sense, about which the soul exerciseth her office. The fourth is the mean or way, which receiveth the object of the sensible qualilitie, and and carrieth it to the instrument. As for example: If the question were of sight, first there must be this power and virtue of seeing in the soul. Next, the eye is necessarily required thereunto: for it is the proper instrument appointed to receive light. Then there must be light, without which all things are covered with darkness and made invisible. For although the eyes by nature are partakers of light, yet that which they have naturally, and which they carry within themselves, will afford them as small light as if they had none at all, except they receive a greater light that cometh from the heavens, or from some light 〈◊〉 body, as from fire, or from a candle lighted, as we see by experience the night time. Lastly, the mean or middle way is of necessity required, by which the light is to be brought and communicated with the eye, and that is the air, through which it passeth, as through a glass or crystal or such like bodies, which are not so 〈◊〉 that they keep back the light from 〈◊〉 through them. For if there be nothing between them, I mean between the eye and the light, and those colours which it must behold, a can not apprehend and perceive them. The like is to be said of the senses of hearing, smelling, and tasting, as we shall understand berter, when we speak of them hereafter particularly. But as for the sense of touching it is most earthy of all the rest. Of the sense of touching. Therefore it agreeth with th● 〈…〉 is common to all the parts and members of the body that have s●ns●, although it be more 〈◊〉 less in some places the● in others. This sense is given to the body to discern the first qualities by, namely, hot, cold, moist, and dry, from others that accompany them, as heavy, and light, hard, and soft, sour, and sweet, thick, and thin: which are compounded qualities, taken from the four 〈…〉 all corporal things are made of the four elements. Concerning g●●●atnesse, figures, members, motion, and rest, they are common to many of the senses. Thus much for the sense of touching, from which the rest do differ, in that every one hath his proper sense, which is not communicated with any other. For only the eyes see, the ears hear, the nose breatheth, the tongue and palate taste. And here we have to consider of the great providence of God in many points. No body can live without some sense of touching. First, forasmuch as the body cannot live without the sense of touching, which hath for object the elementary qualities, it is given to all living creatures in every part of the body, to the end, that thereby they might know according to the proportion of the qualities, what is profitable or hurtful to their bodies in the participation of these qualities, and so eschew more easily that which might hurt them. But men have this sense chiefly in the ends of their fingers, that touching slightly with them, they might make the first trial of all qualities. For if they feel that the thing which they touch, is too hot, or too cold, or that there is some other excess in the quality which might hurt them, they are admonished thereby, to the end that by a very little hurt, they might avoid a greater. For a man may better cheap feel a little grief and that very lightly in the end of one finger, or of many, then in a whole member, or in all the rest of his body. Besides, God hath further provided for this sense, in that it is not so sharp to ●●ele suddenly and to the quick, as the sight or hearing, to the end the body should receive less damage by that which it toucheth if it be hurtful for it. Now the eyes, because they do not touch that which they see, nor the ears that which they hear, therefore they can not be so damnified, as the residue of the members may, which feel not except they touch. Moreover, Some members of the body absolutely nec●●●tie to life. we have yet to note the providence of God herein, that amongst them members give by him to the body, he hath created some of that nature, that a man can in no wise live without them: and others so, that albeit they be not necessary for life, yet he can not live at his ease, and not receive great hurt if he want them. The members of the first sort are, the brain, the heart, the lungs, the liver, the spleen, the stomach, and such like, that are the seats of the animal, vital, and natural virtues, without which there could be no stay of life. For after these members are hurt or perished, farewell life. The other sort are the eyes, the ears, the nose, the tongue, the feet, the hands, and such like. For although a man lose some one or many of these members, yet he doth not therefore lose his life, but he shall surely feel the detriment, which such a loss bringeth upon him. And as we commonly say, A proverb. that the Ox knoweth not the valow of his ●orne until the have lost it, so we may with greater reason say, that no man knoweth of what value the parts of his body are until he want them, or until they be so hindered that they cannot fulfil their office. Wherefore we ought to pray to God to preserve them for us whilst we have them, and give him thanks because he hath not created us lame or maimed of any member. And when we see any that were borne without them, or that have lost them since, we ought to be so much the more stirred up to glorify him, acknowledging it to come from his grace in that he hath dealt better with rathe●r with them, although we have deserved no more than they. Now because we do not so, neither have this consideration as we ought, to give him thanks, and to use them to his honour and glory, therefore he depriveth us of them many times, to punish this ingratitude, and to cause us to know better the value of these gifts, after they are taken from us, and that we have lost them, seeing we could not know it whilst we had them, nor yet him that gave them unto us. And by the same means also he would admonish and put us in mind of the damage we receive by the defects of our soul, by those which we feel by experience in our bodies. Whereupon we have an other goodly point of the providence of God to note, another point of God's 〈◊〉 in that he hath given us almost all double members, without which we could not live but with great pain and trouble: to the end that if we lost one, we might yet use the other, and in some sort supply the loss of that which is wanting. For this cause he did not create only one eye, or one nostril, one ear, one arm, one hand, one leg, or one foot, but twain. This aught to be well considered, that we might have the better knowledge of the care that God hath over us, seeing he hath so well provided for all things, that he will not only have us live, but also furnish us with all necessary things, whereby we might live more commodiously, more easily, and with less pain and trouble. And when it falleth out, that some one of these members or both are wanting, God supplieth this defect by marvelous means. For sometimes we see that maimed folks have done many things with their feet, or with their neck and head, that others could hardly do with their hands: at least wise they have done things without hands, that would seem altogether incredible to such as have not seen them. The hands sometimes stand in st●ade of the tongue and cares. And many times we see dumb men, whose hands stand them in stead both of tongue and ears. For by the signs and gestures of their hands they signify their meaning to others, as if they themselves did speak: and understand the mind of others that make the like signs. Yea, there are some that conceive what others say unto them, only by seeing them open and move their lips, so that we must needs acknowledge it as a miracle of God. Now having spoken generally of the senses of the body, and specially of touching, as also of their members and instruments, we must come to their particulars. Therefore AMANA, thou shalt discourse unto us first of the eyes, which are as it were the principal windows of this building which we have undertaken to pourtraite and set forth. Of the eyes, and of their excellency, profit, and use: of the matter and honours whereof they are made. Chap. 10. AMANA. It hath always been the opinion of the Stoics and Academics, The opinion of the Stoics and Academics. that the bodily senses did rather hinder then help to obtain wisdom: that no man could know or understand anything: that the senses were feeble and slow: that sensible things were so small, that they could not be perceived: or else so subject to motion, that no certainty could be found in them: that our life is short, and full of opinions and customs: that all was compassed about with darkness, and hid: and therefore that nothing could be perceived or understood, so that men were to profess that they would affirm or approve, In Phad. & in 〈◊〉. of nothing. Plato writeth in many places, that we must believe nothing but the understanding, which beholdeth that that is simple and uniform, and as it is indeed: and that there is no science, but only in those reasons & discourses, which the soul maketh when it is not troubled with bodily lets, as with sight, and hearing, or with grief & pleasure. 14. de ●rap●●. evang. c. ●. Eusebius disputing against this, showeth that the senses help much towards the obtaining of wisdom: & that when they are rightly affected, and in their natural habit, they never deceive the mind that it attentive. But we shall know more at large what their profit is by continuing our discourses of the instruments of the senses. Let us know therefore, Of the eyes and of their use. that the eyes were given of God to men to cause them to see, and to be as it were their watch towers & fentinels, the guides & leaders of the whole body: as also they are as it were the chief windows of the body, or rather of the soul, which is lodged within it. For it is a most excellent work of God, whether we consider the matter whereof they are made, & how diverse or agreeable it is to the office that is assigned them? or the beauty that is in their form, & in the diversity of their colours: or the commodity & use of their motions, and how they are set in their places, as it were goodly precious stones laid in some curious piece of work: & how they are environed and armed both above and beneath, on the right hand and on the left, with the eyelids, and the eyebrows, not only for their protection and defence, but also to adorn, and to make them show more beautifully. And surely it is not without cause that God hath put such great excellency in them, and hath created and framed them so artificially. For first, they are the chiefest members of all the bodily senses, whose nature approacheth nearer to the nature of the soul and spirit, The eyes draw nearest to the nature of the soul. than any other, by reason of the similitude and agreement that is between them. Therefore by good right they bear rule among all the senses, and all the other members of the body, as being their guides. For they are given to man chief to guide and lead him to the knowledge of God, by the contemplation of his goodly works, which appear p●ncipally in the heavens and in all the order thereof, and whereof w● can have no true knowledge and instruction by any other sense but by the eyes. For without the who could ever have noted the divers course and motions of the celestial bodies? yea we see by experience, that the Mathematical sciences, among which Astronomy is one of the chiefest, cannot be well and rightly showed and taught, as many others may, without the help of the eyes: because a man must make their demonstrations by figures, which are their letters and images. I pass over many other Sciences, as that of the Anatomy of man's body and such like, which are very hard, yea impossible to be learned and known certainly unless they may be seen with the eye. Wherefore seeing the bodily senses are the chiefest masters of man, in whose house the spirit and understanding is lodged and enclosed, the greatest and first honour is by good right to be given to the eyes and sight. Likewise it is the first mistress that provoked men forward to the study and searching out of science and wisdom. Sight is our first mistress. For of sight is engendered admiration and wondering at things that are seen: and this admiration causeth men afterward to consider more seriously of things, and to mark them better: and from thence it is that men fall to inquire of matters more carefully, and to sound them deeper. In the end they come to the study of science and wisdom, which is the knowledge of supernatural light, namely of the light of the mind, unto which, science and doctrine is as light is to the eye, so that it contemplateth and museth by that, as the eye seethe by right. Therefore we have to note, that it hath pleased God the creator of all things to scatter his light throughout the whole world, & over all creatures as well spiritual and invisible, as corporal and visible. His spiritual light he hath infused into spiritual creatures, and bodily light into bodily creatures, to the end that by this benefit the spirits might have understanding, and the eyes sight. So that Angels and the spirits of men, which are spiritual and invisible creatures, are illuminated by the means of understanding, O● spiritual eyes & spiritual light. with that spiritual and heavenly light whereof God hath made them partakers: as the bodies of living creatures, and chiefly of man are illuminated with the corporal light of the Sun by means of the eyes. For as bodies have their bodily eyes, so spirits have their spiritual eyes. For that understanding wherewith God hath endued them, is unto them as the eyes are to the body. Wherefore by that they see God, who is their heavenly Sun, and the fountain of all divine and spiritual light, as bodily eyes behold the material sun, wherein as in a fountain God hath placed corporal light, which he would have us see and know by means of the eyes: which we ought to acknowledge as a great benefit. 〈◊〉 the light 〈◊〉. For the light is a work of God worthy of great admiration, which discovereth and showeth to us a great part of nature, and is unto us in stead of an image of the best and most excellent natures, which without doubt are lights & shining natures. Neither could any man possibly express in words or teach in any sort what the light is, which showeth all other things, & what is the beauty & excellency thereof, unless the eyes did behold and know it, & distinguish it from darkness. For by means of the eyes we may judge what our life would be, if it were buried in perpetual darkness, or if man had no instrument to apprehend and to receive the light when it shines. Therefore as God hath created the light to discover and show all things by it, so he hath given eyes to man, whereby he may apprehend & receive it. To this end he hath made them of a matter that is partaker of light, and meet to receive it, that by the agreement of nature that is between them & the light, they might enjoy it, and by ●he self same means they might be messengers to the mind to induce and lead it to the consideration of the divine light, whereof corporal light is a very small resemblance: and hereby also the mind might know that God, 1. Tim. 6. 16. who dwelleth in a light that none can attain unto, is a marvelous light, as holy men know by experience when he showeth himself unto them. For as the eye is like to a glass that receiveth the images of things offered unto it, so God imprinteth images of himself in our mind as in a glass. Wherefore as a glass cannot receive any image, but of such things as are set before it: so the image of God cannot shine not be imprinted in the mind of man, unless he always set God before his eyes, that he may receive his image. And as the eye is illuminated by the beams that proceed from the sun, so the mind is illuminated by the brightness of the divine light, in which we consider the Father in the unity of the godhead, as the spring & fountain of all light, & the Son, as the beams & brightness engendered thereof, & the holy Ghost, as a flame proceeding from it, which causeth the eye of the mind to receive it, & to be made partaker thereof. We see then how our eyes together with the light admonish us of great things, of most excellent works of God, and of great secrets of spiritual & heavenly things, whose images he hath imprinted in the light and in our eyes, to the end, that by these corporal and visible images, we may have some knowledge of those things whereof they are images, which cannot be seen & perceived with corporal senses, but only with the spiritual senses of the soul. Wherefore we ought greatly to praise God for this goodly gift, both of the light & of the eyes, which cannot sufficiently be valued. For although it did us no more service than it doth to brute beasts, namely to guide and lead us in this corporal life, yet we ought seriously to acknowledge the excellency of so great a gift of God, & how profitable and necessary it is for us. But there is a great deal more in it, The difference betwixt the sight of men and of beasts. by reason of the mind and understanding which God hath given to the spirit and soul of man, as it were spiritual eyes, to the end there might be an agreement & proportion between then0 & the eyes of the body. For as the eyes declare to the mind what they see, that it might take knowledge thereof: so when the mind hath seen with spiritual eyes those images that are offered unto it by the bodily eyes, it causeth them to see a great deal more clearly, than the eyes of brute beasts do. For because they want minds & understanding, their eyesight pierceth no further than unto those corporal things which they behold. Wherefore when they see the light of the sun, they only prepare themselves to be guided by it, & never consider or look any further. But man, if he be not altogether brutish as beasts are, stayeth not there, but passing further he considereth the beauty of the sun, & those great benefits which it bringeth with it. And being ascended so high by the means of corporal light, he ascendeth even to the spiritual & divine light, & to God, who is the eternal & infinite Sun. Man also hath so much the more knowledge of the nature of corporal light, & of the effects thereof, & hath also so much the more celestial & heavenvly light whereof bodily light is an image, as his mind is illuminated by the word and spirit of God. For otherwise men see little clearer, & not much farther by the light of the body, than brute beasts do. Moreover we made mention in our former speech of 4. things requisite to see by: which also are to be used in the other senses. I will only add a little of the fourth thing, which is of the mean that receiveth the object of the sensible quality, & beareth it to the instrument. If those bodies that are set before our eyes, are so thick by nature that the light can not pierce through them, then doth the light appear upon them, but not in so great measure, nor so clear as in the air & in other bodies, as in glass, crystal or such like that are not so thick, that they will hinder the light from piercing through them. Of colours, and of their nature, variety, and use. This part of light that is upon thick bodies, is called colour, which is of divers sorts, according to the mixture of light & darkness that is in them. For first there are 2. kinds of simple colours, by mingling of which together all other colours are compounded. The one is white, which hath most light in it of all others, and therefore will take any other colour. Then there is black colour, which hath least light in it: & therefore it will take no other colour. All compound colours made of black and white mingled. Now according as these 2. kinds of colours are mingled together, all other colours, being infinite in number, are compounded, taking their diversity & difference as they have more white or black mingled in them. For this cause some are red, others yellow, these green, those skiecolor, others grey, or blue, or tawny. In a word, it would be a difficult matter, yea impossible to rehearse all their differences & varieties. But God showeth himself yet more wondered in the diversity that is seen even in one kind of colour. For let us consider in a meadow or garden all the herbs, trees, & plants that are there with leaves & flowers, & we shall see no green in any one of them, which differeth not in some thing from the green of another kind, although they be all green. The like may be said of their flowers. For whether they be white, or black, or red, or yellow, or azure, or of any other colour, we shall not find one that differeth not in something from others of the same colour, but of a divers kind. So is it with divers feathers & colours of birds, amongst which there are such sundry colours, that a man cannot tell what certain name to give them: as for example, we see about the neck of a Ring-dove. And although Painter's endeavour as much as lieth in them, counterfeit all these diversities in their printings mingled with many colours, and howsoever, as followers of nature, they come very near her, yet they can never approach so near as to be able to represent any colour so lively as she brings it forth. Now if the eyes were not capable of light, they could not see any colour, nor discern one from another: and if they could not see colours, Nothing seen but by colour. they should see nothing. For nothing can be seen but by means of colours, no more than it may be seen without light, of which those are made. And as the eyes cannot well see if they have not as much light as is needful for them: so if they have too much, and more than they want, they will see a great deal less: or if it be very great, they will be dazzled, and as it were blind. Therefore it must be dispensed unto them by just measure and proportion according to their capacity: and then through the reflection of those things which it discovereth unto them, it imprinteth their images in them, as the image of a ring is imprinted in sealed wax. Now having spoken of the principal use of our eyes, if I should enter into a more particular consideration of their nature, I know not almost at which end to begin. For there is nothing, either in the matter of which they are made, or in their form, composition and use, how small soever it be, which is not able to cast all men into great admiration. For first, Of the matter and humours of the eyes. if you ask after their matter, they are compounded of three sorts of humours, of which the one is like to water, the other to glass melted, or to the white of an egg, and the third to ye or crystal: and therefore they take their names of those things which they resemble. Concerning the Crystalline humour, it is not so thin, but more firm than the other twain, much like to wax melted. Nevertheless it is a great deal more clear and more glistering than both the other: so that there is the same difference between these three humours, and that which may be seen through them, which is between crystal, glass, and water, and that which a man may see through them. Of the Crystalline humour. The Crystalline humour is given to the eye to impart light unto it: therefore it is in the eye, as it were a little round Crystal glass, very glistering. And although the other twain are very bright, so that the light may pass through them, as it were through water and glass, yet they have no light of themselves, as the crystalline humour hath, which could not receive that light which it doth from without, if of itself also it were not partaker of light, and if by that participation which it hath, there were not in it a natural agreement with the other. The other twain are joined unto it not only to nourish and moisten it, that it dry not too fast, but also to help to preserve it, and to moderate the vehemency both of those spirits and colours that might hurt it. Now because these humours are liquid and soft, they had need of fit vessels to keep every one in his place appointed, for the executing of their office. How the humor● are placed. The crystalline humoris in the midst of the other twain, because it is the glass of the eye, which receiveth the light, and the images of those things that by the light are disclosed unto it. Therefore it hath behind it that which resembleth melted glass, or the white of an egg, which is not altogether so soft and liquid, as the other before that resembleth water. Thus hath God disposed them according to that natural conveniency which is betweeve them, that they might be so knit one to another, as is meetest both for them and their uses. And being all joined together, they serve to fill up that hollow place within which the eyes are enclosed: so also the other parts, and namely the fat, whereof they are well provided, serveth not only to fill up void room, but also is appointed to this end, that the eyes might rest them more at ease, and be moistened the better. How Gods providence appeareth in the eyes. In all which things great wonders of God's providence appear most clearly: namely, in this, that the humours are so distinguished, every on keeping his place without mixture or confusion, as also in this, that the crystalline humour, which is partaker of light, and which ought to receive it, is so well compassed about and fortified on all sides. For this cause it is more firm than the other, that it might both keep and distribute better the light which it receiveth, and also preserve itself, and help the other humours that are joined unto it, which being as it were Nurses unto it, do in like manner help it again. Moreover, we are greatly to marvel at the providence of God, in considering the coats and skins of the eyes, their form and motions, their divers colours, and the sinews whereby they receive sight: the discourse of which matters, I lay upon thee, ARAM. Of the tunicles and skins of the eyes: of their form and motions: of their sundry colours: of the sinews whereby they receive sight, and of other parts about the eyes. Chap. 11. ARAM. If we would stand to consider of all those things that are worthy of admiration, but in one eye only, aswell in respect of the matter, as of the form, and means whereby they receive the virtue of seeing, and perform their duty, as the Physicians she we these things in an Anatomic, a man might make a very great book thereof, as likewise of all the other members. For there is no member so little, wherein there is not most exquisite art, and wherein a man may not see marvelous works of God's providence, so that I should be wonderfully abashed to see any Physician prove an Atheist, if he have never so little knowledge of the nature of man's body, and of the composition and Anatomy of the parts of it, were it not that God punished them with the like judgement that he hath done other great Philosophers, whom he casteth into a reprobate sense, because through pride and ingratitude, they abuse that knowledge of natural things, which he hath given them. Let us learn therefore to know the Creator by the knowledge of the creatures, and let us look upon the workmaster in the excellency of his works. And now to this end, according to out intent, let us with the eyes of the mind, behold the eyes of the body, seeing they looking upon all things, yet cannot see themselves. Now as we have perceived, Of the tunicles and skins of the eyes. that God hath disposed the matter and humours of the eyes according to that office whereunto he hath assigned them, so he hath appointed tunicles or coats which are little skins, in which they are contained as it were in their vessels, and compassed about with them as it were with little bands, to keep them united and close together, and to preserve them, that they move not forth, and run out, and withal to be unto them a sure defence. These skins according to their offices and uses are disposed one after another, and interlaced between the humours of the eyes, according to that agreement of nature which they have, both amongst themselves, as also with those humours which they serve, and which in like sort serveth them, to the end that neither the one nor the other should easily receive hurt. Five tunicles. And amongst those five several tunicles, which there are of them, according as the Physicians and Anatomists distinguish them, one is very slender, like to a small spider's web, or to a very little fine white skin, that is between the parts of an onion. Then there is another that is like to a little thread: and the third resembleth in colour the stone of a red grape, I mean the outward side of it. They are named by the Grecians and Latins according to the similitudes and likeness of those things which they resemble. But the chiefest, strongest, and hardest of them is like to a slender and clear horn, I mean that horn whereof Lanterns are made, but that it is not so hard and thick by a great deal: and by reason of the similitude which it hath with horn, it is called by the same name. This hath God created in this sort, both that it might be a stronger defence to all the humours of the eyes, and also that it might serve for the light which they are to receive, through which it shineth, as the light that is in a Lantern besides the horn of which it is made. There is yet another white skin, which serveth to keep in the whole eye unto the head, in the place assigned for it: and this is the first, as that like the spider's web is the last, and then the other are placed between these in the same order that I have named. A testimony of God's providence. Herein appeareth the work of God, namely his providence is to be well marked in this, that he hath not placed the eyes so far out in the face and head, as he hath done the nose, ears, and lips, but more inward as it were in holes and little dens, by reason of the humours whereof they are compounded, to keep them so much the more fast and close together, because they are liquid. Therefore they are shut up in their holes, as the water of a Well is in that place where it is gathered together. For this cause the Hebrews often use the solfesame word to signify both the eyes and fountains. Of the form of the eye. Next, God hath created them of a round form, both because it is the fairest, most seemly and most perfect, as also because it is most movable, and easiest to turn and return on every side, as the office of the eye requireth. For seeing they are given to man and to all creatures for the direction of the whole body, and of all the members thereof, they ought not to be so fastened in the place where they are, that they can never look but one way, nor stir themselves on any side. Therefore God hath appointed to every eye seven muscles, both to keep them firm and steady, Of the muscles of the eyes. as also to cause them to remove and turn upward and down ward, on the right hand & on the left, cross-wise and round. And as the round form is most perfect, so it is most fit for the office of the eyes, to the end they may see all things better, and comprehend all sorts of shapes better than if they were flat, or hollow, or square, or of some other fashion beside round: as a man may judge by the diversity of looking-glasses, and of their figures and make, according to the variety of which, they represent diversly those things whose images they receive. Now because man, as also all other creatures go forward, and not backward or sidewise, therefore God hath not placed the eyes either in the hinder part of the head, or on any side thereof, but before. And although the eyes be movable and made to turn on every side, yet they never turn clean backward, but only sidewise, so far as they can see and behold well. For they have nothing to look upon within the head, but only without. Therefore they have this advantage beside, that being set in that place which is assigned unto them in the head, they may turn from one part to another, and see, not only on the right hand and on the left, but also behind, by that motion which the head hath from his sinews by means of the neck: which motion the head should not have, if it were seated upon the shoulders without a neck: and this is another commodity of the neck, whereof we spoke not before. Now before we go any further in the discourse of those parts that are about the eyes for their defence & preservation, it shallbe good for us to consider here of the goodly painting, and variety of colours that are in them. For first we have a white colour, which covereth the greatest part of the eye: next that goodly small circle, which is round about the eye: then the apple of the eye, which the Hebrews call the daughter of the eye, being in the midst of it, as it were a little glass, where in a man may always see some image, as it were in a glass when one looketh into it. This little circle is called by some a Crown, and by others a Rainbow, because of the diversity of colours that are seen in it: which are not all alike in all men. For some have this circle more black, others more grey, others more yellow, or more red. Moreover, besides the sinews of those muscles that are given to the eyes to move them every way, each of them hath one proper unto itself, whereby the life and virtue of seeing is communicated unto it from the brain, by means of the soul that giveth life to all the body. Of the visual sinews. Therefore these sinews differ from all the rest, in that they are not solid, but hollow within, like to little water pipes, to carry unto the eyes the spirits of sight, which are as it were a little flame of light, whereby they receive from the brain, life and virtue of seeing. Next we are to consider how God hath placed them near the nose, to the end they may purge also by that on each side, aswell as the other humours of the brain. The use of the kernels near the eyes. Therefore there are kernels hard by them in the head, which serve both to moisten and to water them according as they have need, by reason of their burning nature and perpetual motion, and also to retain and soak in humours, lest they should descend and fall down upon them too fast, and so hurt them. Besides this commodity, the nose in his place is unto both the eyes in stead of bulwarks, and so also are the bones which close them in on every side, and the balls of the cheeks, which are higher than the holes of the eyen, that they also might serve to defend them. Moreover, God hath further armed them with eyelids, which serve them both for ornament, and are also in stead of gates unto them, having muscles to open and to shut them, either wholly or in part as need shall require, both for sight, Of the cyclids & of their hairs. for sleeping and waking, and for defence. And besides the eyebrows wherewith God hath covered them above the lids, there are little hairs growing at their brims, which God hath not given in vain. For first, they serve to direct the beams of the sight, that they may see more directly: next they serve for defence against little flies, against 〈◊〉, mo●tes, and other small things that might enter in, and trouble them. Moreover, they serve for ornament, as it were some pretty border round about them. And because the hairs of the eyelids have an other office than those of the eyebrows, therefore they are otherwise disposed: for they are not so thick, nor mingled one within and about another, as the hairs of the eyebrows are, but they are ranged and set all in rank, even orderly one by another. And as for the eyebrows, The use of the eyebrows. they do not only serve to set forth the eyes, that their beauty may the better appear, but also to defend them against the rain, against the sweat of the head and forehead, and other things that might descend and fall upon them if they had not this to stay them. And to this purpose we see the agreement which they have with the nose on each side, and how the providence of God hath made them like to a half circle, or a half moon, or a little arch, or else after the fashion of a little penthouse, to the end that the sweat and rain might have an easy course and descent on both sides, and not run into the eyes. And because they should not hinder in stead of helping, God hath created them of that nature, that they grow not like the hair, beard, or nails, but continue always at one stay. What then will those women say for themselves, who take so great pains in twitching and plucking off the hair of their eyebrows, to the end they should not be so thick or great as nature hath made them. For they think it greater beauty when they are shorter and thinner. Against the pri●● of women. But in this, as in all their paintings and pranking they do not only lift up themselves against nature, as though they would work her a spite, but also be have themselves as if of set purpose they meant to reproach God for creating them as he did. Now in speaking of the eyes, let us beware that we be not so blind, as that we cannot see that thing by them, which they teach us, or take no heed of that which they show unto us. For the consideration of one of them alone, or of one eyelid or browlidde only, aught to teach us to open and to lift them on high, that they may search out and contemplate him that created them, and hath given them unto us: Psal. 94. 9 even to him who saith, I that form the eye, shall I not see? Therefore we ought to be afraid, lest our eyes be given unto us as judges; to convince us of our ingratitude towards God their and our Creator, and to condemn us. For there are but too many miracles to be seen of his almighty power in their creation, & too many witnesses of his providence towards us, to make us more than ashamed and confounded. We have yet another point to be noted touching their situation, which causeth a certain proportion and agreement to be between the heavens and the head, Of the proportion between the heavens and the bead. and between the eyes of the great & little world, and those of the body and soul. For it is most certain, that they could not be placed more conveniently, then in the highest part of all the body, as it were in the highest tower, seeing they are to serve all the other members in place of Warders and Watchmen, and of guides and leaders. Therefore Solomon had reason to call them the Looker's aut by the windows. Eccles. 12. 3. For the holes of the head in which they are placed as it were Looking-glasses, are their windows through which they see and behold. We may also say as much of the apple of the eye, which looketh within his little circle, as it were by a window. For this cause, as God hath placed the sun, moon, and all the rest of the lights above in the heavens: so he would that there should be some proportion between the heavens and the head of man, and between those goodly lights above named, and the eyes that are created to receive light from them, and to be that in man who is the little world, which the sun, moon, & other lights of heaven are in this great universal world. Therefore forasmuch as the eyes are as it were the images of these goodly bodies and celestial glasses, they occupy the highest place in this body of the little world, as the lights do in the great body of the world, whereof they are as it were the eyes, to give it light on every side. The eyes draw nearest to the nature of fire. For this cause also the eyes are more fiery, and have more agreement with the nature of fire, than any other member that belongeth to the corporal senses. And as they are in a high place, so they are admonished thereby of the place unto which they ought to look, according to that which David saith, I lift up mine eyes to thee that dwellest in the heavens. Psal. 123. 1. In all these things we see a goodly harmony and agreement between the great and the little world, the like whereof we shall also find between the world and the spiritual heaven, whose sun and light is God, and between the eyes of the soul and of the mind. Therefore jesus Christ said very well, Matth. 6. 22. 23. The light of the body is the eye: if then thine eye be single, thy whole body shallbe light: but if thine eye be wicked, than all thy body shallbe dark. Wherefore, if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness? So that the eyes being as it were the lantern, lamp and flame of the whole body, they could not have a more apt place, or more convenient for their nature, then that where God hath placed them. The like also may be said of the spiritual eyes of the soul & of the mind. For God hath lodged the understanding and reason in the brain of man, The agreement between the eyes of the soul and those of the body. as it were in a high tower, in which it ought to reign as a Queen and Princess, and guide under her laws all the affections and actions of men, as the eyes guide all the members of the body And when God, who is the sun and light of the world▪ & of the spiritual heaven, reacheth out his beams to these eyes of the soul by his eternal Son, and giveth them life, vigour and virtue by his spirit, then is the mind well lightened, and then doth she happily and to her proper end direct all the parts of the soul. Now for the conclusion of our speech, seeing we have spoken largely enough of the eyes of the body, and of their nature, beauty, and excellency, and what goodly images of the spiritual eyes they represent unto us, let us yet a little better acknowledge the greatness of their Woorkmaster, by considering apart the matter whereof they are made, I mean by itself and without the workmanship: as if we should now behold their substance without that disposition and form which he hath given them. What is an eye plucked out of the head but a little clay and mire? as indeed it is the matter whereof it is made. Now what a wonderful thing is it, that God hath so appropriated it, as to make such a goodly piece of work thereof, and such fair instruments for the service of men? And therefore our Saviour jesus Christ meant to represent this divine work, john 9 6. when he made the blind to see by putting clay upon his eyes. Let us therefore use their sight, which is such an excellent gift of God, to behold his works, and those goodly images of the divine nature, which on every side, and continually are before our eyes: and let us beware that we feed them not with the sight of profane and dishonest things, lest they serve to poison the mind and soul, whereas they ought to become messengers, to declare unto it honest & healthful things. For he that doth otherwise is worthy to have, not only his bodily eyes put out, and plucked out of his head, but also the eyes of his mind, that so he may be blind both in body and soul, as it commonly falleth out to many. But let us follow our matter propounded touching the senses, and their members: and speak unto us, ACHITOB, of the ears, and of their composition, offices, and use. Of the Ears, and of their composition, offices, and use. Chap. 5. ACHITOB. The wisdom of God is so great, & he provideth so well for all things by his providence, that he never doth any thing in vain: insomuch that there is nothing whatsoever in all nature, which hath not his proper use, and which is not compounded of matter and form agreeable thereto, for the instruction of men. But forasmuch as men are rude of understanding, and by reason of their natural corruption easily turned aside from the chief end of their being, namely, the contemplation of celestial and heavenly things, in place whereof they betake themselves to the care of those things that are earthly & corruptible, it cometh to pass, that having eyes and ears, they neither see nor hear any spiritual thing, so that their very light is become 〈◊〉. And then how great may we think the darkness to be in those parts that ought to be guided by them that are capable of light? Therefore as we have learned, that the eyes are the first guides and household masters that God hath given to every one, and the first authors and inventors almost of all arts, sciences, and disciplines, because by their sight we know the light, colour, greatness, figure, number, situation, and motion of bodily things, both near and far off: so now we are to know, that the heating and the cares are very convenient for one man to communicate his knowledge with another, as if one should power wine or water out of one vessel into another. But they are especially given by God to men, that they might serve to receive the doctrine and instruction of wisdom, as we may perceive if we consider diligently their nature and use. The ears then, The situation of the cares. in mine opinion, are also as it were watchmen over the whole body, aswell as the eyes. For it is not only required, that a watchman should see, but also that he should both hear and speak. Therefore are the ears placed hard by the eyes on each side, aswell for an ornament to the head, as for the commodity and use of the whole body. For that place is fit for them that they may so much the more conveniently receive those sounds that come unto them, and cause them to hear, even as the eyes receive the light, which causeth them to see. Therefore as God hath disposed the matter whereof it pleased him to make the eyes, and hath given them such a form as agreeth best to that office, which be would have them perform, so hath he done in regard of the cares, as also of all the other members of the body. Of their making. For this cause he hath made them of gristles, which are a great deal harder and more firm than either flesh, kernels, sinews, or ligaments: but yet nothing so hard as the bones are, as we have already learned by that which was spoken before. Besides, near about the place where the ears are, he hath set the hardest and firmest bones that are about the head. Therefore they are called stony bones by reason of their hardness, and of their natural agreement with stones: whereby the cares are strongly fortified, and that very agreeable to their nature and office. Of their form. As for their form, it is half round, and very well compassed. They are also doubled in about the ends, as if nature had wrought them about with little ledges turned in of the same matter, in most excellent and decent manner. And amongst all living creatures God hath given unmovable ears to none, The cares of men and apes only are without moving. but only to man, and to an ape: for the rest can move them up and down. And as for this external and eminent part of the ear that appeareth without, if it served only to beautify the head, the use of it were not to be despised. For it is evident by such as have their ears cut off, Of their use. how deformed and unseemly the head would be to look upon, if it were not decked with that part of the ●ares planted there by God for their greater ornament, as it were two goodly bruches. Hereof it is, that those men have this part cut off, who are to be made deformed and infamous for some notorious offence. But besides the honour and ornament, which this part of the ●ares bringeth to the head, it serveth also to cover the brain which is next to the cares, lest it should be hurt. And to the end that they might not be easily bruised, or broken, nor yet hang downward, they are, as I have said, of a gristly substance, as are all those parts that are bare and appear outward, and which are in danger to receive injuries and discommodities from without. Likewise this outward growing of the ears bringeth a double commodity with it to the rest of that member. The first is, that it keepeth back the rain and sweat of the head, and much filth that might enter into the ears, if those places were flat, and had nothing but the holes of the ears without these bulwarks, Therefore their form is made so, that they ascend and bend upward without, but are hollow within. The other is, that it helpeth much for the better receiving in of the sounds that are brought to the ears by the air, because thereby the sounds are better conveyed unto that place, which is properly appointed for the hearing. For this cause the cares are not pierced strait outright, but their holes are made winding in, like the shell of a snail, whose form they represent, so that one cannot thrust strait forth so much as a little thread, or the bristle of a hog. For if they were boared outright, many inconveniences would befall them. The first is, that the sounds would not be conveyed in so well, as they are in places that bend and give backward, where they have rebounds, which causeth them to stay and sound better. The second is, that the ears should receive overgreat sound and too thick, and so being more confused, they could not be discerned and understood so well. Again, as too great light doth not only dazzle the eyes, but hurteth them withal: so overgreat sounds would mar the instrument of hearing, if they were not distributed and compassed according to the capacity thereof. For there must always be an answerable and apt proportion between the sense, the thing subject to sense, and the mean by which the sense is made. Hereupon it falleth out often, that many become deaf by hearing overgreat sounds, whereof we have experience in Smiths, amongst whom many are thick of hearing, because their ears are continually dulled with the noise and sound of their hammers and anvils. The like oftentimes happeneth to those that deal with artillery, by reason of the continual use and greatness of the sound. Of the place of hearing. Moreover we must note, that there is a very little hole in each of these stony bones, Three small bones in the ears. in which the hearing is properly made, and within which also there are three very small bones, whereof the one is called an anvil, the other the hammer, because they are made almost of the same fashion, so that a man would say, that nature had framed a little anvil and a little hammer to make sounds, and to cause them to be heard. The third small bone was found out by certain Physicians and Anatomists, and being boared in the midst is fashioned like to a little stirrup, and is always less than any of the other twain. Physicians that writ of Anatomy make no mention of this last, or if any speak of it, they are but few, and of late time. And in deed it is a hard matter, even for them that are most skilful and expert, to look unto all how diligent and able so ever they be in Anatomy, especially in the view of many instruments, & of their sundry parts, which are so small, that hardly can we discern them with our eyes if we look not very narrowly unto them, and that after we are told thereof before. As for these small bones whereof I speak now, and namely the third, a man may perceive them better in a dry Anatomy, and in some skull that hath nothing but the bare bones, than he shall in a whole body. Therefore the skilfullest Physicians and Anatomists confess, that the body of man hath such wonderful art in it, that every day they find some new thing in it, which was not observed by any in former times. But let us return to our speech concerning that which remaineth of the composition of the ears. Besides these little bones, Of two skins within the ears. there are two small skins full of nerves, which hold and bind these bones in such wise, that they are as it were a little tabor stretched out in that place. These small skins have their original from those sinews, by which the virtue of hearing proceedeth from the brain to the ears. For after the sounds are made in the air, they are carried to these skins, and then heard and discerned by them. Hereupon they are made hollow, to receive the sounds that come from without, having a nature that agreeth very much with the air, as the eyes do with the fire, I mean in respect of their virtue which is burning and glistering, albeit their substance be moist. Therefore as the eyes judge of light and colours, and by that means bring great pleasure and profit to men: so the ears judge of sounds and of the voice, What profit and pleasure is received by the ears. of notes, harmony, and of melodies, whereby man receiveth commodity and delight. And if there were but the sundry notes of birds, what solace doth he receive by it? But beside, how many instruments are there of most excellent and melodious music, what voices and pleasant songs, framed very cunningly, and with great grace and harmony by the art of music? For we see by experience, that this science is given of God to men, that it might be chief dedicated to their ears, to the end that by the sounds & songs which they hear, they might be stirred up to praise God the giver of them. Therefore Solomon not without good reason called them the daughters of singing or of music, Eccles. 12. 4. because of the delight which they take therein, and also because this whole art, and all songs and melody would be vain and unprofitable to the life of man without hearing. But above all, the chiefest profit that the ears bring to men, is by the means of speech, whereby they communicate one with another all their conceits, imaginations, thoughts and counsels, so that without them the whole life of man would be not only deaf, but dumb also and very unperfect, as if man had neither tongue, mouth nor speech. And on the other side, seeing man hath always need of doctrine and instruction, albeit all the other bodily senses help him therein, nevertheless, none is so fit or more serviceable to this purpose, next to the eyes, than the ears. Wherefore if Solomon for the cause above rehearsed, called them the daughters of singing, a man may also call them the daughters of discipline and of knowledge. For as man hath nothing more proper than speech, whereby he letteth others know what he hath in his mind and heart, so he hath nothing more fit than that, to teach all things by, whose doctrine is already begun by means of the other senses, How doctrine is learned. but principally of the eyes. For the other senses together with the sense of seeing, are as masons, that lay the first foundation of the frame of doctrine, and afterward speech buildeth upon this grounde-woorke: which it cannot do, if it be not helped by the ears and by hearing, which agree with the voice pronounced by the mouth, whereby speech is sent and conveyed to the ears, that it may be heard and understood of them. Thus after the knowledge of things is found out, and arts begun by means of the sight, after the same manner that was declared before by us when we entreated of the eyes, than the sense of hearing teacheth a great deal more, both greater matters and sooner. For we receive and understand in a short space, that which our master who teacheth us, hath obtained and prepared in a very long time. For how many things must we see, and what books must we read before we shall attain to the knowledge of that, The benefit of Lectures. which we may learn by hearing one lecture, at which we shallbe auditors only one hour or less? Let us consider then how conveniently and bountifully God dealeth with men in this behalf, when that thing which is very profitable and most necessary is made so easy for them. For nothing is more profitable or more necessary then to learn much, nor any thing more easy then to hear much. Therefore Solomon saith, Prou. 1. 5, 6. That a wise man shall hear and increase in learning, and a man of understanding shall attain unto wise Counsels, to understand a parable and the interpretation, the words of the wise and their dark sayings. This also is the means whereby GOD hath appointed, that men shall learn and understand his will. And therefore, as we heard that eyes were given unto us, to this end especially, that they should contemplate the works of God, their and our Creator: so we ought to know that ears were given us, that before all things we should hear and understand his voice and word, and consecrate them wholly to that purpose: to the end that after the ears of the body have heard it, they should be the messengers to declare it to the ears of the soul and mind, How hearing is framed in the ears. to cause them also to hear and understand the same. For this cause, as the air that entereth into the ears, and bringeth unto them the sound made in itself, when it is stricken and moved, moveth the little hammer of the ears, and causeth seth it to strike upon the anvil, and so maketh a sound by means of the little taber, through whose sound the spirits of hearing are awakened: so God by inspiration worketh in his Prophets and Ministers, who receive his voice after a divine manner: and then are they as it were the hammers that strike upon the anvils of men's minds and hearts, by which sound the spirits of the hearers are awakened and stirred up. But my desire is, that we should thoroughly consider here this great secret of GOD that lieth hid in nature, namely, the means whereby the hearing is made and framed in the ears, which we cannot see or comprehend as it is in itself. Nevertheless, God giveth us great light thereunto by the matter and form of the instruments, which he hath made for the hearing. Wherefore seeing the ears are framed so artificially as we have heard, as appeareth to the eye by their Anatomy, we cannot doubt but that God would have their use and artificial composition known to them that may behold with their eyes the instruments of hearing, when they are laid open unto them, as they are to Anatomists, to the end that by the view and contemplation of them, they might judge of that secret work of nature which God hath wrought in hearing, which cannot be seen with eyes when it is in doing. For we know by experience whereto serveth a hammer, an anvil, and a taber, and what sound they make when the one striketh, and the other is stricken, and how that hollow things are more fit to receive sounds, and to cause them to be heard better, than things that are solid and more thick. So that when we see instruments like to these in the composition of the ears, we may easily judge, that God hath not placed them there, but to do that service which may be performed by such instruments, to the end we should know the great skill and wisdom of the Woorkmaster that made them. Now for the conclusion of our speech, let us learn, that although our ears did us no more service than the ears of brute beasts do to them, and reached only to the use of this life, yet could we not sufficiently acknowledge that good, which God doth to us by them. But we must make a greater account of this, that by the means of his word, which he will have declared to our cares, he causeth them to serve to his honour and glory, and to our own salvation. Therefore let us apply these so beautiful and artificial members, with all the rest of our senses to their principal end, yea to the end of all nature, namely, to the glory of their Maker: and let them be deaf, and stopped up against all dishonest things that might poison them, and so consequently our minds by them. 1. Cor. 15. 33. For that which Saint Paul saith, That evil words corrupt good manners, aught to be extended to every vile, dishonest, and wicked thing which the ears may hear. Wherefore they that abuse them so vilely, deserve that God should pluck them off, and stop them, and make them altogether deaf, not only their bodily ears, but also those that are spiritual, as he maketh them blind according to that threatening which he giveth out by Esay. Esay. 6. 9, 10. Now to follow our purpose touching corporal senses and their instruments, I think we ought to entreat of the tongue, because it serveth chief for speech, whereof we have already made some mention, and for the sense of taste, in which we must be instructed. Therefore ASER, declare unto us the divers uses of the tongue, and what instruments are necessary both for voice and speech. Of the divers uses of the tongue: of the instruments necessary both for voice & speech: how there is a double speech: of the form thereof: how the spirit of man is represented thereby. Chap. 13. ASER. If we were only of a spiritual nature as the Angels are, it is certain we should by and by understand one another, by that mind & understanding, whereof we are partakers, as they understand each other: neither should we need speech, tongue, ears, or eyes, to hear and see by, no more than those natures that consist only of spirit, having all those things spiritual whereby they communicated both with God, & amongst themselves. But we can have no such communication among ourselves by the understanding of the mind & spirit only, because of that corporal nature which cometh between the souls & spirits one of another. Wherefore the help of speech, aswell as of the other external senses, is very requisite for us in every part of life. Also because our soul, being kept under our flesh as under a vail, useth cogitations & discourses, it standeth in need of speech, of words & of names, by means of which it may utter & publish that, that lieth bid as it were in a deep & dark place, where nothing is seen. Forasmuch therefore as the tongue is the principal instrument whereby God giveth speech to men, & without which they would be dumb, & seeing also it serveth the sense of taste as well as the roof of the mouth, it shall not be without good consideration, if entreating now of this member, & of the use thereof, we place it in the order of our discourses, between the instruments of hearing, whereof we spoke before, and those of taste, of which we will speak hereafter, for the agreement it hath with them both. God hath given the tongue to man not for one use alone, but for many: & namely for three at the least, Three uses of the tongue. which are all very necessary for the life of man. The first is to frame the speech: the second, for the taste: the third, to help to prepare the meat that is chewed in the mouth for the nourishing of the body. And because the first is the noblest of all, and given to man only, whereas the other twain are common to him with beasts, I will begin with that: whereunto this may be added, that because of the conveniency it hath with the hearing, and with the ears, these two matters will agree the better, being joined in order one after another. Next we will handle the other uses that appertain properly to the sense of taste & to the nourishing of man. Now we have first to note, that God hath placed many instruments in the body without which speech could not be well pronounced & expressed. For first, speech could not be without voice, for the which God hath created many instruments the are all necessary for that purpose, The instruments of the voice. as namely, the weasel of the throat, the windepipe, the throat, the lungs, the breast, and certain back-running sinews appointed thereunto by reciprocal motions. All these parts help only to make the voice of man, without any framing of speech, except it be the weasel of the throat, which is a little fleshy and spongy body, in figure like to a pineapple, hanging at the end of the palate, whose use is manifold. For it serveth first to stay the air from rushing in over fast & violently into the lungs, The use of the weasel of the throat. & from entering in too cold & over suddenly unto them. Then it serveth also to divide & distribute the air when it ascendeth from the lungs, the it may be the better scattered & dispersed into all parts of the mouth. And by this means this instrument fashioneth the voice, & causeth it to yield a sound, & so prepareth it for the tongue, that it may be articulated and framed into speech by the same. Therefore besides the weasel of the throat which serveth for these two uses, there are five other instruments which in regard of this present matter serve only to frame the voice into speech, Five instruments requisite to lea●●e the voice into speech. that otherwise would be but a confused voice. The first is the tongue, which hath the chief place among the rest: then the palate, the teeth, the lips, and the nose. For although a man may speak when he hath not all these parts perfect, yet his speech will not be well framed if he want any one of them, as we see by experience in them that have lost their teeth, or their lips, or the roof of the mouth, or that have their nose cut, stuffed, or otherwise troubled. For this cause the Hebrews name their letters, some guttural, because they are pronounced more in the throat: others, dental, because a man cannot well pronounce them without the teeth: and so they call others, labial, that is, letters of the lips: and others, letters of the palate, because they cannot be well expressed without those parts of the mouth. The like is in all other languages, albeit they do not distinguish their letters by such names. Now in such variety of instruments made for the service & use of one only thing, we ought to acknowledge the great nobility and dignity of speech, Of the dignity of speech. with which God hath endued & honoured man above all other creatures. For he hath not given it to any of them, but to him only, & by that he hath put a difference between him & the beasts, as also by reason and understanding, whereof he hath made him partaker, & in respect whereof he hath given him speech, which is as natural unto him as reason, which is the spring head thereof, and from whence it proceedeth, as a riverfrom his fountain. For how could men make known their counsels & thoughts without speech? And what good should they receive by that sense & understanding which God hath given them more them to beasts, if they had no more speech than they have, whereby to make it known? And to what purpose would speech serve them, if they knew not what to say? And what should they have to speak, if they had no more understanding & reason then other living creatures have? Were it not sufficient then to have a confused voice only as they have? Therefore also we see how God hath joined these twothing together granting speech unto man, because he hath created him partaker of reason and understanding. And having deprived beasts of the one, he hath also deprived them of the other, so that they are partakers neither of reason nor speech. Ecclus. 17. 5, 6. For this cause Ecclesiasticus hath joined these things together, saying, That God hath given to men counsel, and tongue, and eyes, ears, and an heart to understand, and sixthly, he gave them a spirit, and seventhly, he gave them speech to declare his works. He filled them with knowledge of understanding, and showed them good and evil. Whereby he teacheth us plainly, what is the right & true use of speech, to what end it is given to man, and from whence it springeth. For he placeth counsel in the first place, and next the tongue. Again, after the heart and spirit, he placeth speech, that we might know who is their messenger. Whereupon we may conclude, that the one is given for the other, and both to glorify God, by showing forth his works and marvelous acts. 〈◊〉 sermon. To which effect Basil the great saith very well, that God hath created us and granted us the use of speech, to the end we might have the ability and means to lay open one to another the counsels and thoughts of our hearts, and to distribute amongst us that which is in every one, by reason of that communicable nature in which we are created. For the heart ought to be in man as a secret treasury, or as a larder or pantry in a house, out of which all things necessary for the use thereof, and for the maintenance of the whole family are daily taken. The heart also is like to a seller or garner, wherein counsels and thoughts are locked and closed up, and the tongue is like to the steward who draweth out and dispenseth whatsoever is to be distributed. For as we said in the beginning of our speech, our soul useth thoughts and discourses, which cannot be declared so long as it is enclosed in this tabernacle of flesh, without speech, words, and names, by means of which, she bringeth forth and publisheth that which was enclosed and hidden in the secret closet of her understanding. Two sorts of speech in man. And so we say, that there are two kinds of speech in man, one internal and of the mind, the other external, which is pronounced, and is the messenger of the internal, that speaketh in the heart. Therefore that which is framed in voice▪ pronounced in speech, and brought into use, is as a river sent from the thought with the voice, as from his fountain. For before the thought can utter any outward speech by means of the voice, first the mind must receive the images of things presented unto it by the corporal senses. The degrees by which we come to ●●eech. And then having received them by the imaginative virtue that is in it, reason must discourse to know and to consider of them well, and to separate or join things according to that agreement or difference, that concord or discord, which they may have amongst them. Next, it is necessary that judgement should follow this discourse, to make choice of, and to follow that which it shall judge to be meet and convenient, and to reject and shun the contrary. Lastly, all must be uttered by significations apt and convenient for every thing: so that when the mind hath given over to the office of the vocal instruments, that which it hath comprised and resolved upon in manner aforesaid, the same is manifestly declared outwardly by the air framed into voice, I mean by the moving of the articulate and distinct voice, whereas before it was hid and covered. Now when this voice and speech is pronounced with the mouth, as it is invisible to the eyes, so it hath no body whereby the hands may take hold of it, but is insensible to all the senses, except the hearing, which nevertheless cannot lay hold of it or keep it fast, as it were with griping hands, but entering in of itself, it is so long detained there whilst the sound reboundeth in the ears, and then vanisheth away suddenly. But albeit the sound and the voice passeth so suddenly, as if presently it flew away having respect to the outward speech, nevertheless the internal speech remaineth, not only in the spirit, heart, and thought that engendered it, not being in any sort divided, cut off, or separated, but also it filleth all the hearers, by reason of the agreement that is between the spirits and minds of men, and the speech that is bred there, and because it differeth not much from the mind, and from the thought where it first began and was bred. And thus the thoughts and counsels of the mind and spirit are discovered and manifested by speech. What voice is. So that all voice is not speech. For the name of voice generally taken comprehendeth all sounds and things which bring any noise to the ears. Nevertheless it is more properly and specially attributed to those sounds, which all sorts of living creatures are able to make with their throat to signify any thing thereby. But man only hath articulate and well distinguished sounds: unto which, birds of all other beasts approach nearest, so that even many of them are taught in some sort to frame man's voice: but it is without understanding. And because that instruments of music do after a sort imitate the distinct voice of men, we attribute voice to them: although the sounds which they make be more without judgement and understanding then that of beasts. Speech representeth all the parts of the soul. But in men, voices framed into words are signs and significations of the whole soul and mind, both generally and specially, namely of the fantasy and imagination, of reason and judgement, of understanding and memory, of will and affections. Wherefore it is an easy matter to judge by his speech how all these parts are affected, namely, whether they be sound, or have any defect in them. For if a man be dull witted, or have his fantasy and imagination troubled, and his memory slow and heavy, he shall have much ado to speak that which he thinketh and conceiveth in mind, and have as we use to say, but a bad utterance. Which thing also may happen to good wits, either for want of exercise and use, or through some defect that may be in the body, or in the instruments of the voice, or because the matter whereof they speak may be profound, obscure, and difficult, so that a man cannot easily find words fitly to express the nature of it, as the worthiness thereof requireth. Which reason oft entimes maketh wise and skilful men slow to speak, because they know what a hard matter it is to utter in good sort that which is to be spoken, in so much that they had rather keep silence, then speak ill or unproperly. But a light-head, and a cocke-braine that is void of this consideration, will think he hath a more ready wit. For he will speak before he ponder or discourse in his mind. So that whosoever hath not a ripe and stayed reason, nor temperate and settled senses, he can not have his words set in good order, nor his speeches well knit and agreeing one with another, as we have example hereof in children and fools. And if a man have reason and judgement ready at hand, but not stayed and pithy, he may well prove some great babbling pleader, but not eloquent. For he only is to be accounted eloquent, Who is to be accounted eloquent. who can conceive well in his spirit and mind that which he ought to speak, and then is able to express it well, both by apt words, and by sentences that are well tied and knit together. We see then how the voice and speech of man lay open his whole heart, mind, and spirit. But the voices of beasts have no significations but only affections, I mean such as are in men, and which the Grammarians call Interjections, because they are not framed into speech, nor well distinguished as others are. Now if we understand all these things well, they may help very much to instruct and confirm us in the doctrine of the Trinity of persons, of the Unity of the Godhead, and of the eternal generation of the Son of God, who is his divine and everlasting word. Likewise they will cause us to conceive more easily, how this heavenly and eternal word, namely, jesus Christ, is the Image and Character of God, the express and engraved form of his person, as it is in the Epistle to the Hebrews, Hebr. 1. 3. and not in shadow or painting. For the glory, majesty, and virtue of the Father is always hid from us, but only so far forth as it showeth itself engraved in his son and in his word, Of the image of the heavenly word in the speech of man. as the image of the mind appeareth imprinted and engraven in the speech that is uttered. And as the internal word bred in the mind departeth not from it, neither is separated, and yet it imprinteth an image thereof in the minds of the hearers, to whom it is declared: so the divine and eternal word begotten of the Father, is always resident in God, and yet imprinteth his image in the hearts and minds of men, to whom it is manifested by those means which he hath appointed for that purpose. Thus you see a gap laid open into these high and great secrets of God, which we ought to mark well, following such phrases of speech as are taken from human things, and used by the spirit of God in the holy scriptures, to the end we might more easily understand them. Wherefore if there were no other reason, this were sufficient to induce us to consider more diligently the excellent work, and great providence of God, which appeareth in the framing of the voice and speech of man, and in the nature and use thereof, and in those members and instruments of the body, which serve to that purpose. Therefore AMANA, let this matter be the subject of thy discourse. Of the agreement which the instruments of the voice and speech have with a pair of Organs: what things are to be considered in the placing of the lungs next the heart: of the pipes and instruments of the voice. Chap. 14. AMANA. When we consider diligently all the instruments created by God in the body, as well for the ministry of the voice, as of speech, we shall find amongst them all things requisite in the best and most perfect instrument of music that can be, to make a good harmony: and we shall know, that no Organs are so well made, or disposed in such good order for the compassing of their sound and melody, as the instruments of the voice and speech of man are. And by the consideration of this concordance, we are admonished always to have the same thing in the mouth which we have in the thought, to the end that from such an agreement, as it were in every part of an Organ and of an instrument of music, There must be an harmony betwixt the heart and the tongue. there should proceed a good harmony and pleasant melody. For if there should be discord between the heart, the tongue, and the speech, the harmony could not be good, especially before God the judge of most secret thoughts, no more than the harmony of a musical instrument quite out of tune would be pleasant in the ears of men, & namely of good Musicians, who can judge best of concord's and discords. First then we must note, that the breast, neck, and head are as it were the instrument and the body of the Organs, within which they are put and enclosed, and by which they are sustained: next, that the lungs are as it were their bellows to blow them. Therefore it is made of two pieces joined together, like to a pair of bellows, to draw in and to thrust forth the air, and to help each other in respiration and breathing. Wherein we must call to mind how needful it was, that the backbone and breast, and the building of the ribs should be framed in that sort that we heard before, that they might serve to this use, & make room for these bellows to enlarge themselves, and to do their duty. Of the nature of the lungs. We see also what their nature is, what motion they have, and from whence they receive it. For God hath created them of that nature, that they move and remove of themselves, by the virtue of the soul and life in the body, without which they would be void of motion, and could not do their office, as we see in dead bodies. And because the lungs are the bellows that blow wind into the instruments of the voice, without which it could not be made, therefore they are lodged next to the heart, so that they cover it, to this end that men should be admonished, that their voice and their speech is the messenger of their heart: Why the heart and speech must agree together. and that for this cause the heart and the mouth, and the voice and speech which proceed from them, always ought to consent and agree together. For it would be great dissoluteness, if the heart, which ought to be the original and fountain of the speech, should think one thing, and the speech, which is the messenger of the heart should utter and declare another. For before the tongue and mouth speak, or speech be framed in them, it must first be conceived and bred in the heart and mind, and then brought forth and pronounced by the tongue and mouth. Therefore Elihu saith to job, job 33. 1, 2, 3. I pray thee hear my talk, and hearken unto all my words. Behold now, I have opened my mouth, my tongue hath spoken in my mouth. My words are in the uprightness of my heart, and my lips shall speak pure knowledge. We see here, how Elthu joineth the heart with the mouth, the tongue, the palate and the lips, all which are instruments of the speech, as we heard before. Therefore there must always be a good & general agreement between all these things. This good concord beginning in ourselves, according to every man's particular place, aught to stretch itself generally to all, that we may all agree together, as the spirit of God so often exhorteth us thereunto in his holy word. jam. 4. 11. psal. 12. 2. And therefore it calleth them, men of double hearts, and double tongues, that are not upright in heart, nor true and certain in word. Matt. 12. 34, 35. luk. 6. 45. Our Lord saith, that of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, and that a good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth good things, and an evil man out of an evil treasure bringeth forth evil things. For as the tree is known by his fruit, so speech maketh manifest both the heart and mind of a man. Therefore he shall be a great deal better known by his speech, then by the sight of his face. For his face doth not so well lay open to the eyes his heart, mind, & manners, as his speech discloseth them to the ears: as we may judge by that which we learned to this effect in the former discourse. Therefore before the bellows of the lungs blow to frame afterward voice & speech in the tongue and mouth, the draft must be first drawn and framed in the hart, that the tongue & mouth may represent and express it afterward: otherwise they will speak to no purpose, but only give testimony, that there is little wisdom & upright affection in the hart. Hereof it is, that Solomon showeth oftentimes, that a wise man's tongue is not lightly set on work without the direction and counsel of the heart and mind, whose servant and messenger it ought to be: but a fool poureth forth all his mind at once. For he uttereth all that cometh in his mouth, and speaketh before he hath considered what he ought to say, so that his words are sooner spoken then thought upon. The heart of the wise guideth his mouth wisely, Prover. 6. 21, 23, 24. and addeth doctrine to his lips. Fair words are as an honey comb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones. The wise in heart shallbe called prudent: and the sweetness of the lips shall increase doctrine. Prover. 12. 13. A wise man concealeth knowledge: but the heart of fools publisheth foolishness. Prover. 29. 11. A fool poureth out all his mind: but a wise man keepeth it in till afterward. There are many such like places in the Proverbs, which I could allege to this purpose. And we know what is commonly spoken when a man speaketh of a good affection and in truth, that he speaks from his heart: but if he be known to be a liar, crafty, and deceitful, we say that he speaketh not from his heart. Which is as much as if one should say, that the same thing is not in his heart, which he hath in his mouth. Although in truth when those speeches are thought upon before, such contrarieties are found as well in the heart as in the tongue and mouth. For if they were not first in that, they would not be in the tongue, which is the messenger of the heart. This is the cause of that double heart which we said was in wicked, close, and disguised persons. You see then what we have to note, both in regard of the bellows that blow the Organs of man's body, & also of the player that ought to blow and direct them. Now let us speak of the instruments and pipes into which the wind & breath of these bellows doth enter, Of the pipes and instruments of the voice. & giveth motion & convenient sound to every one of them. They have been named all unto us before. Wherefore we have to consider of that pipe which is called the rough Artery or windpipe, Of the wind pipe which is made like to a flute, and in regard of the matter, is of the nature of a gristle and of skin. It was necessary that it should be of such matter, because it is to move when it receiveth in, or giveth out the air, and to be enlarged or restrained as need requireth. Needful therefore it was that it should be compounded of such skins as are easy to move, & to open▪ & shut, and which might serve for soft & tender ligaments. And because the voice cannot be framed, if the air whereof it is made, be not beaten back with some thing, it was in like manner requisite, that some gristles should be mingled therewith, and linked together: as it was needful for the ears to be made winding in, that the air might rebound the better, and receive the sounds, as we heard before. For this cause it is called a rough artery, as well in respect of the matter whereof it is compounded, as of the figure. For it is made after the manner of small circles and rings, placed in a rank one by another throughout the whole length thereof, like to the tail of a Crevice: and that with such moderation, that it is thick, slender, and dri●, according as need requireth to make the voice of a reasonable bigness. If it be too dry, it malieth the voice shrill and hard to be pronounced: From whence proceedeth the change of voice in sickness. as experience showeth in burning fevers, and in great droughts. Again, the pipe thereof is larger beneath than above, and so lesseneth upward where need is, like to the pipe of a Bagpipe, to the end that the blast should neither be too slow and weak in ascending, nor yet over hasty and sudden. For if it be ●lowe and languishing, it will turn to wind without any noise and sound: and if it be hasty and sudden, it will breed sighs in stead of voice: as it falleth out to them that are diseased and weak whose breath is short, and to old men, who have small virtue of respiration, and much less of singing. Therefore some expound that place of Ecclesiastes where it is said, that all the daughters of singing shallbe abased, Eccles 12. 4. of the voice of old men, and of the instruments which breed and pronounce it, and of their virtue and strength: although others will have it to be understood of the ears. But it may be referred to them both. Now the principal instrument of the voice is in the head of the rough artery, namely in that place which is commonly called the knot or joint of the neck, The Anatomists call it La●inx. or Adam's morsel, being fashioned likest to an Almain flute. I abstain from speaking more specially of the rest of these pipes & instruments, which are only quills to receive the blowing of the lungs, as also of the 3. gristles, which make the distinction of the voice, and namely that in the midst, which inform, is like to that end of the bagpipe that is put into the mouth, or like to the lips of certain pots made to power out wine, or of off pots and such like things, as we may see in Apothecaries earthen pots. Besides, in the midst of that gristle, there is a deep slit or cleft called glottis, that is, a little tongue, because it is the proper instrument of the voice, & hath both the sides enlarged or closed up by muscles proper to that use and purpose. As touching the gristle before, it is fashioned like to a little shield, so that a man may both see & touch it in the neck. That which is behind, is of the fashion of a ring which is put upon the thumb. And as these gristles are dilated & opened, or pressed & shut by their muscles, especially both the sides of that cloven whereof I spoke even now, How the voice is made great or small. so do they make the diversities of voices. For as when they are opened, they make the voice big and obscure, as it were the base in singing: so contrariwise when they are pressed, they make it small, clear, and shrill, like to the countertenor: and as they are more or less restrained or opened, so they make divers notes of the voice, as the tenor, the mean, & such like. And because the pipes cannot make this variety of voices in this cleft, therefore there are chinks which serve for the same purpose. In this sort then, this instrument of the voice, which is placed in the top of the Artery and called Larinx by the Physicians, being aided by gristles and their muscles, and by that little tongue whereof I spoke not long before, together with these chinks, frameth of itself as many sundry voices and notes, as all the pipes and flutes of a pair of Organs being set together, and furnished with all sorts of pipes, A testimony of the providence of God. both great, small, and mean. Wherein we see a wonderful providence of God, whether we consider the instruments named by us, or the place that containeth them. For the artery, which cometh up from the lights to the throat, occupieth but one part of the neck: and yet it doth as much alone, taking it whole with the other instruments of which I have spoken, as a whole pair of Organs. For in a pair of Organs there must be many pipes, some great, some small, and others of a middle sort that are greater or lesser as it falleth out, according to the diversity of notes for which they are made, because they can not be either enlarged or restrained, open or shut, but as they are first framed. Therefore there needeth as many of each sort as the parts of Music are divers, and as there wanteth variety of notes to fill every place and to furnish both the base and the mean, the tenor and the countertenor. But, as might be gathered by our speech, the pipe and instrument of the voice is made of such a fashion, that when a man is disposed, he may enlarge it for the base, and then restrain it for a countertenor, or else open and shut it in middle sort either more or less to make the tenor or the mean, & to cause the voice to ascend & descend according to those notes & tunes which he would have it make, and that by the means before touched. The like may be done in speech. For as every one is disposed to lift up or to depress his voice, to enlarge or restrain the pipes and instruments thereof, he may speak either higher or lower, bigger or smaller, or clearer, and set what sound, tune, and accent he please upon the speech, which he will pronounce. Wherefore we may very well say, that every one carrieth about with him and within himself very fair and strange Organs, Fair Organs within every man. upon which he may play at all hours at his pleasure, either in singing or speaking: yea they are so whole and perfect, that they want neither the bellows, nor the cross-beam, nor the cords, nor the hollowness for sound, nor the seat, nor the posts, nor the porters, nor the bearer of the keys, nor the table whereon they are set, nor the Organ pipes. For all this is in a few small instruments which discharge their duties, yea they are more perfect in man then in any artificial Organs. And if any Organ-maker could, I will not say make such, but only counterfeit them, and make as many sundry sounds and tunes with one pipe, as others do with many, all men would greatly admire such a workman and his work, especially Organists and Musicians that understood the Art of Music. How much more than ought we to admire that great and divine Organist, that hath made those goodly Organs of man's body, and given them such a good sound? And how greatly ought we to desire, that we may be the true temples of God, and good Organ players therein, to cause these fair Organs to sound again, and to sing and preach his praises by them? For I doubt not but that these are the true Organs, whereby he will be praised and glorified by us. But there is yet a great deal more to be considered of this matter, of which both this and the former discourse hath bi● made. For these Organs being prepared as I have set them in sight, have nothing more than the sound of the voice, as it were an instrument without speech. Wherefore we must now make a speaking instrument, which hath not his like neither in all the works of nature, neither in all human and artificial works. This Art and office belongeth properly to the tongue, of whose nature & use, and of the excellency, & utility of the Art it hath, which is speech, thou ARAM shalt give us some profitable instruction. Of the tongue, and of the nature and office thereof: of the excellency, and profit of speech which is the Art of the tongue: what is to be considered touching the situation thereof in the head, and near the brain. Chap. 15. ARAM. The Ancients being desirous to extol eloquence very much, propounded the image of an Orator, as it were of one that spoke of gold, The praise of eloquence. who in speaking drew out a golden chain, which coming from his tongue was fastened to the ears of a great many men that heard him, whereby he drew and led them after him whither he would. Thus they compared the speech and eloquence of an Orator to a chain of gold, because of the virtue and power which it hath with men, being able to keep and stay them, to moderate their affections, & to guide and govern them easily without force & violence, as if one should lead them tied with a chain, whom they would voluntarily follow not being constrained, but only of their own good will, which nevertheless should be so drawn that it could not resist. As indeed that persuasion which proceedeth from speech draweth the wills and affections of men, with a sweet and pleasant kind of violence, which they follow with great desire, and cannot gain say it. Now this art and office belongeth properly to the tongue, of which we are now to speak. The tongue than is a fleshy & muscly member, The description of the tongue. but soft and like to the substance of a tadstoole, being full of sinews, arteries, & veins. For it had need have good store of sinews, both because of those sundry motions which it hath necessarily, as also for the sense of taste and of touching, which agree to the nature thereof. Likewise it had need of many arteries, that so it might have great abundance of spirit and heat, by reason of the diversity of motions which it hath. And to the end it should not want nourishment, it hath in like manner great plenty of veins: and that it should not dry up through continual moving, it hath humidity to wet and moisten it. Of spittle, and the profit thereof. Whereupon we ought to note well the providence of God in this, that although spittle be but an excrement and superfluity, which partly distilleth from the brain into the throat, and partly is sent up thither from the boiling stomach, yet it is not unprofitable, because it wetteth and moisteneth the tongue. For being very dry it is more slow in moving, as we see by experience in them that are subject to great drought. Therefore God hath provided a remedy for that inconvenience, by means of two fleshy kernels like to sponges, on each side one at the root of the tongue, which are commonly called Almonds, because they are fashioned like unto them: these through passages ordayened for that purpose, moisten all parts of the mouth. Moreover, the tongue is tied to a forked bone with many muscles by two branches, which hold it up as it were two near pillars, and that with such a counterpoise, that it can move and remove itself equally on each side. For if it were tied by one branch only, it could not keep itself upright, but should go crosswise only from one side. But God hath provided very well for that: and if we did know and consider it well, we are admonished thereby, Our speech ought to be upright. that speech pronounced by our tongue ought first to be well weighed as it were in a balance, to the end it decline not, or turn on any side more than it ought, out hold itself upright, and directly follow reason. Moreover, it can not easily be declared, by what Art the tongue stretcheth forth itself so diversly by the means of muscles, and how it hath so many sorts of motions from all sides, so ready, and so sudden, and for so many things as it hath both to speak and to do. The profit of speech. But it is far more difficult, yea impossible to tell the causes, how a man can by the tongue frame so many sorts of words and so divers, which are as it were the marks and paintings, not only of all visible things, but also of all things invisible, and of all the thoughts of man. For if we would entreat of any matter one with another, we know already by that which hath been spoken, how it can hardly be done without speech, as also that we cannot speak without certain words and names to name and signify those things by, whereof we mind to speak. For if we have no words and names to make them known by, we must always have the things themselves present, that we may point at them with the finger, which is impossible. And although it were so that we had them always before our eyes, yet that were not sufficient. For we should be forced to speak to the eyes by signs, and yet we could never without comparison invent so many signs, nor counterfeit and imagine so many things with all the senses and members of our body, as the tongue alone would afford us by means of speech. For it giveth a name to every thing. Therefore it is able to make the natures of things known, and to set before us as well things absent as present, invisible as visible, spiritual as corporal. In a word, God hath given this benefit to man, by means of the tongue and the ears, that they can represent one to another, and cause each other to know and understand as well divine things as human. And although God made this diversity and confusion of languages amongst men, Gene. 11. 7. to punish them for their arrogancy and ingratitude, nevertheless he hath so provided for this evil, that he hath manifested the more his great goodness towards them, and the riches of his eternal providence, by that knowledge of so many sundry tongues which he hath given them, Acts 2. 3, 4. and chiefly that by them his Gospel might be published. And if this benefit of God be worthy of great admiration, ought we not also to marvel much at this, that such a variety of sounds proceeding out of the mouth of man, A miracle of letters. can be comprehended in so small a number of letters, whereby so many sorts of words, and such diverse languages are expressed? By this means also, we see that speech, which can not be perceived by any of the senses but by the ears, is made as it were visible, so that by the help of Letters a man may speak to the eyes, and not see them, as he may also to the ears by means of the voice. And although voice and speech fly into the air as if they had wings, insomuch that a man can neither behold them with his eyes, nor smell them with his nose, nor hold them with his hands, nevertheless speech is kept still before the eyes, and may be called back when a man will by means of writing, The benefit of letters. and by the benefit of letters. Yea, it may be sent to them that are absent, and as far as one will, that they may understand it, even to them also that are not yet borne. For we see how our predecessors teach us after their death by their books and writings, and how by this means their words are not only visible unto us, but also as it were immortal. Wherefore the less we can conceive how this may be done by the tongue and by letters, the more ought we to wonder at this great work of God in man, praise him for it, and give him thanks. Now albeit the eye of our understanding dazzle, and can not wholly comprehend this work of God, neverthlesse we see this well enough, that the tongue doth so help to frame the voice into speech, and to make the diversity of words whereof speech is compounded, as the hand and fingers of the Organ-player who toucheth the Organs, and of the Musician that playeth upon an instrument of music whatsoever it be, serveth to cause the sound thereof to be heard. For although, when one bloweth the Organs, the pipes thereof will yield divers sounds and tunes, if they be open, according as they are either great or small, long or short, wide or narrow, as we have said: yet these sounds will be but confused, without harmony and melody, if the Organist doth not play with his hands, thereby to dispense as need requireth that wind and breath which is to be distributed into the pipes, and if he touch not the keys of the Organs according to those tunes and notes, which he would have the pipes to make, following the Art of Music. And this we may see yet more plainly in a bagpipe. For although it soundeth by reason of the wind, within the leather bag, which receiveth and keepeth it as it were a little sack, yet it always yieldeth forth but one sound, without distinction and harmony, until the Minstrel play with his fingers upon the holes of the pipe that belongeth unto it. Therefore as there is great difference between a simple confused voice, & that which is distinct & artificial, The difference between voice and speech. so is there between voice and speech. So that when the tongue hath received the wind and breath, which ascendeth up from the lungs by the rough artery, and is fashioned into voice by the means afore mentioned: than it formeth the same afterward into distinct speech by such an art and science, as none can understand, much less express it, but GOD only, who hath given it to the tongue, in which consisteth the chief dignity thereof. For it is that science, which is the mother of eloquence, which men have in such great admiration: and because of this, the arts of Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric have been published by the best learned men. For all these three Arts are specially appointed for speech: the one to make it proper, pure & neat, namely, Grammar: the other, The uses of Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric. namely Logic, to knit well together all discourses made by speech, and all sentences in them, according as they agree among themselves, depend and follow one another, and are grounded upon good reason: Thirdly, Rhetoric is joined unto them, to adorn and polish speech, to make it more significant and very eloquent: so that whereas Logic maketh speech as it were a simple picture, that hath nothing but bare draughts, which serve to make it whole, and furnished in regard of every part and lineament thereof, Rhetoric maketh it not only as it were a picture well set forthwith fair and lively colours of all sorts, but also adorned and enriched with goodly hills and dales, and such like paintings, that it may show better, and be made fairer and pleasant to behold. Wherefore as there is great difference to look upon between these two pictures, so is there of speech in respects of the ears, as it is propounded either more plainly and simply, or more deeked and garnished. For this cause, seeing God hath vouchsafed us so much honour as to give us speech, especially to praise and glorify him with our tongue, and to benefit the common society of men, we must not be content only to speak, but we must study to speak well, in fit terms, and wisely, to the glory of God, and to the good and profit as well of ourselves as of them that hear us. This cannot be done but by the knowledge of God and of his word, without which all the Logic & Rhetorik of men is but vain babbling. We cannot speak wisely without the knowledge of God and his word. But when the one is joined with the other, & the arts that teach men to speak elegantly are appliedto this purpose, then is the use thereof very good & worthy of great commendation. Therefore we must all acknowledge ourselves to be as it were Organ-pipes, having of ourselves neither sound, nor voice, nor tongue, nor mouth to speak of God, & of his works as we ought, and to praise and glorify him, but only so far forth as he being the Organ-player bloweth within, and inspireth us by his holy spirit, giving unto us wisdom and tongue and mouth, and virtue in speaking. Now here we must not only call to mind what we have already spoken of the causes, why the lungs, which is one chief instrument of the voice, and without which it cannot be made, is placed so near the heart, but also we must consider how near the tongue, and the other instruments of voice and speech next unto it, are unto the brain, wherein is the principal seat of the spirit, and which is chief assigned to the mind of man, and to that part of his soul that is most divine. Why the tongue is placed near the brain. For seeing God would have the tongue to be the messenger, and as it were the Interpreter of the spirit and mind, and of all the thoughts thereof, that men might teach one another both the knowledge of God his worship, and of all other good things, and seeing he would have speech to be the bond of human society and of that communication, which men ought to have one with an other, therefore it was very requisite, that being the instrument of speaking it should be near the brain, which is the lodging of all the internal senses, of which, if God will, we will entreat hereafter in their place. For as all the external senses do carry to the internal, and the bodily to the spiritual, whatsoever they perceive by sense according to their nature and office, thereby to admonish and instruct them, that they may think and judge thereof and lay it up in memory: so the internal and spiritual senses carry the same things afterward to the tongue, that it might declare and make them known to those, unto whom they would communicate their mind and cogitation. Hereof it is, that the tongue is oftentimes taken for doctrine, and for all speech both good and evil: in which sense Solomon taketh it when he saith, The tongue of the wicked shall perish. And Saint Paul calleth speaking with the tongue, 1. Cor. 14 2, 14, 15. when one useth speech that is not understood of the hearers: and speaking with the spirit and with understanding also, when such a language is used as is understood of every one, and which serveth to the edification of them that hear it. Therefore the tongue must not stir, nor the mouth open itself to speak, before it have received a commandment and charge from reason, The mistress of the tongue. which is the Lady and Mistress thereof, to guide and govern it, whose messenger and servant it is to give notice of that which the reason and mind would have known. Wherefore it is very convenient that the lady and mistress of the tongue should have her lodging over and near about her, and not to be far from her, to the end she forget not herself, nor attempt any thing without a commandment from reason. So that as before we gave the heart to be the governor, guide, and counsellor of the tongue: so now we appoint the brain as lord and master thereof, to the end it should have a good guide both above and beneath it. For no member in all the body hath greater need. james 3. 6. Therefore S. james calleth the tongue a fire, yea, a world of iniquity, which defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature, and is set on fire of hell. Such are the fruits of an unbridled tongue that is misled & ill governed: as contrariwise it is an excellent treasure in man, when it is moderated & used wisely and soberly, and in time and place convenient as need requireth. For all these things God giveth us good instructions in the matter and composition of this member. For first, he doth not content himself in giving to man but one only tongue for so many offices as are assigned unto it, whereas many other members are double, and yet serve chief but for one thing: but also hath made it tender, soft and pleasant, & tied it fast with many bands, as it were so many small cords and threads, to restrain and bridle it, to the end it should not run over or be too forward, and that it should not bring forth bitterness in stead of sweetness, nor prick & hurt any body. Therefore it is made blunt on every side, not sharp or forked, like to the stings of scorpions & other venomous beasts. Moreoure it hath the gums and teeth, with which it is environed and closed in on every side as it were with a quickset, & with a strong rampire to keep it fast shut within the bounds & limits thereof, Why the tongue is so fashioned and fenced on every side. as it were within a cave. Besides, it hath lips as it were gates to open unto it, or to shut it up and muzzle it, lest it should take too much licence. Therefore seeing God doth guard the tongue so on every side, he giveth men to understand that they ought not to abuse it, and teacheth them what care they ought to have of this little member, seeing that of all the outward members, none is so hid, covered, compassed about, & locked up with such a natural covering & enclosure, as that is. And to end our speech, we know, that when the heart & mind, which ought to be the guides & governors of the tongue, shallbe reform in purity and true knowledge of God by his grace, there will be nothing but good speech & all truth in the tongue, to the setting forth of the glory of his divine Majesty, and to the profit of every one according to the duty of true charity. But if the mind and heart be evil, and blinded with error and ignorance, they will bring forth like fruits and speeches. Now having discorused at large of the first office of the tongue, which consisteth in framing of the speech, we must consider of the other two uses thereof, which are in tasting, & in preparing meat that is chewed in the mouth for the nourishment of the body. Therefore, thou shalt begin, Achitob, to discourse of these two offices, & of those instruments, which serve the tongue to this purpose. Of the office of the tongue intasting, and in preparing meat for the nourishment of the body: of teeth, and of their nature and office: of the conduit or pipe that receiveth and swalloweth down m●●tes. Chap. 16. ACHITOB. The more we consider the work and providence of God in the composition of man's body, the more we shall marvel at it, and daily find therein new matter and occasion to glorify his name. Before we considered thereof, as of the frame of a house: now we shall see it as it were a town or city that hath Milles & Ovens, and Artificers of all arts & occupations. And, which is more wonderful, we shall perceive such industry in many of the members, that oftentimes one alone will serve for many offices, One member may se●ue for many offices. for the due performance whereof man's reason would require many members: and yet God hath so well provided therefore, that one alone doth better discharge them, and with less trouble than many together could do. Which may evidently be known by those uses and offices of the tongue, whereof we are yet to entreat. One, and that the chiefest reason why the tongue is fitly placed in the head near the brain, was declared unto us in the former speech: now we must note others, especially why it is necessary that it should be in the mouth, as likewise in the head. For the tongue could not have satisfied any one office committed unto it, if it had been placed barely and openly in the face, as the eyes, nose, or ears are. And seeing it was requisite to have it covered, it could have no better covering then the mouth, Why the mouth is the fittest place for the tongue. as may be proved by many reasons. The first is, that seeing it is the instrument of speech, which must be helped by many other parts to have it well framed, as we heard before, it was to be lodged in a place where it might have near at hand all instruments needful for that service. Now this use of speech is proper to the tongue of man only, and not to that of brute beasts: but to the other twain following, are common to man with beasts, namely the sense of taste, for which God hath appointed both that and the palate: for which cause it was requisite also that it should be near the brain, and in the head, as the other instruments and members of the senses are, as also in the place appointed for this preparation of bodily food. For it must first judge of tastes & discern between good & bad meat, The officer of the tongue. and between good and bad drinks, to the end, that whatsoever is good for the nourishment of the body, may be kept, and that which is bad, rejected: and that afterward, which is the last office, it may help the teeth & mouth to chew the meat, and so to swallow it down. For the jaws and teeth are as it were the stones of the mill, which serve to prepare the meat for all the body. Wherefore as there are two stones in every mill, namely, one beneath, which abideth always steadfast, and turneth no way, and another above, which always turneth about to bruise and grind the grains of wheat that are between them: Of the mill of man's body. so in the mil of man's body there are two jaws like to two millstones, of which the one is always firm, and the other moveth. But there is this difference between these and millstones, that the neither jaw only moveth, which is true, not only in man, but also in all other living creatures, except in the Crocodile, who in this point quite differeth from all other living creatures that have jaws and teeth. Now God hath so appointed this motion of the millstones of man's body not without good reason. For seeing the brain is so near, and that there are so many goodly members in the head above the upper most jawbone, it were to be feared, that the continual and great moving thereof would shake them, and bring them into some inconvenience. And that the jaws might bruise and break whatsoever is put between them, as the stones of the mill grind the grains of corn, the teeth are planted in them to serve them in this work. And in stead of wind or water, which drive artificial mills about, this natural mill of which we speak, hath his muscles and sinews to move it, and to set it working when need requireth. For this cause Solomon, meaning to show the defect of teeth in old age, and what small strength old men have to chew their meat, Eccles. 12. 3, 4. saith, that the grinders shall cease because they are few, and the doors shall be shut without by the base sound of the grinding. These doors are the lips, because they serve the mouth, and the mill which is within them. For we understand by the mouth, all that is from the lips unto the throat and windpipe, wherein not only the mill of man's body is contained, but also as it were a part of the bakehouse, in which the meal that is grinded is to be kneaded, and so made ready for the oven, that afterward it may be baked in the stomach, which is as it were the oven and kitchen of the whole body to dress meat for it, Of the kitchen of the body. wherewith all the members thereof are to be fed and nourished. For food can not nourish the body if it still continue such as it is put into the mouth, unless it be better prepared and dressed in such sort, that it may easily be turned into the substance of the body that receiveth it. As than jaws and teeth are the mill and millstones, which bruise and turn to meal the wheat that is put between them, that is to say, all kinds of meats, both hard and tender, for the nourishing of the body: so we may say, that the tongue in this respect playeth the miller, and serveth in stead of a hopper, into which those grains that otherwise would scatter from between the millstones are put that they may be ground. For when the meat falleth on any side from between the teeth, the tongue serveth to send it back again, that it may be well chewed, and not avoid the grinding of the jaws and teeth. Thus we daily come to greater knowledge of strange instruments in the body of man. For we heard before what Organs and what kind of musical instrument God hath made in him for the voice and for speech: now we may see how there are within him, a mill and a miller, a bakehouse and a kitchen. Hereupon we ought to think, that the Master and Maker of these, hath not created them that they should be idle, as though he had given them nothing to grind, or to bake. For he is no such workmaster as to make any work, and not to set it a working, or to leave it unfurnished of things necessary: neither any such master or Lord, but that he can easily do it. God ministereth food to all creatures. Wherefore although there are as many of these mills and ovens, as there are not only reasonable creatures, but also beasts, and although he hath undertaken to maintain them always, even from the creation of the world until the consummation thereof, yet he never wanted matter to set them on work when it pleased him. Hereby we may know whether we have a rich father or no, and what cause we have to fear that he will leave our mills and ovens empty, although we had many houses full of them, as in deed we have in ourselves, our wives and children, so long as we acknowledge him to be such a one, and that we yield obedience unto him, as becometh his children. But we have further to note, that as our mill is not without a Miller, and such tools as are necessary for him, so the Oven and Kitchen have their Baker and Cook. For first, the teeth do not only serve for a mill, but they discharge some part of a Cook's office, because the more they chop the meat, and chew it well, it is the better prepared for the stomach to bake it so much the sooner. Therefore we say commonly, that the first preparation and digestion of meat is made in the teeth. For this cause God hath given a great number of them to man, and hath made them of bone, and distinguished them into sundry sorts, according to that office whereunto he hath assigned every one of them. Of teeth, and of theirs divers kinds. For right afore there are four above, and as many beneath, that are broad, sharp, and cutting, which are called Incisorie teeth, because they are apt to divide and to cut the meat as a knife doth: and these have but one root. Then there are other twain on each side, commonly called Dogge-teeths, because they resemble the teeth of dogs, which are broad towards their root, but sharp and pointed above: and these also have but one root of a reasonable length. Their office is to break the meats and other things, which by reason of their over great hardness could not be cut by the first. Next, the other teeth are appointed to bruise very small those meats, which have already passed through the former, even as millstones bruise wheat. Therefore they are sharp, broad, hard, and great, and have more roots than the other. And because of the similitude which they have with millstones, they are called by the same name both of the Grecians and Latins, as also jaw-teeth and grinders. All teeth are planted in the iawebones by means of the gums, being fastened within them as it were nails, so that they cannot easily be moved, shaken, or plucked out. And although bones naturally have no feeling, yet teeth are very sensible, by reason of certain branches of small soft sinews which enter into their substance. For this feeling is necessary for them, both because they are bare and not covered with flesh as other bones are, as also for the meats sake and for instep as they that in some part are serviceable to the taste, aswell as all the other parts of the mouth. Thus you see how the teeth serve at one time both for a mill and a cook, together with the tongue and the rest of the mouth. The tongue like to a baker. Again, the tongue serveth for a baker, having this office laid upon it, to gather the meat together after it is well ground and chewed, and to fashion it round like to pills or small loaves that are yet but dough, to this end that it may with more ●ase be swallowed down. Wherein it dealeth like a baker, who first fashioneth his bread into loaves. Next it playeth the part of a baker and of a peel both together, as that which setteth in the meat, and causeth it to descend into the stomach, which is the oven wherein it must be baked, that afterward it may nourish the whole body For this cause it was necessary that the tongue both in breadth and length, should be answerable to the whole mouth in such sort, that it might touch all parts of it to discharge so many offices. We see then that man's body is not only like to such a frame of a house as we considered of before, but also like to a great City, wherein there are mills and Ovens, and Artificers of all occupations. Now upon this that hath been discoursed touching this last use of the tongue in preparing and swallowing down meat, we must further note, that as there is a pipe that reacheth from the lungs unto the mouth for respiration; and for the breath of the voice, as hath been declared unto us: so there is another from the stomach unto the same place, Of the Gullet or We●●●●d. properly call the Gullet, which the Physicians commonly call by the Greek name 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: whose office is to carry the meats and drinks into the stomach. And as the other pipe is in the former part of the neck, that it may go right to the mouth to draw in the air, so this second is behind in the neck, that it may keep more heat, in it, and it is longer than the first: Nevertheless, many think that there is but one pipe for bruath and for meat and drink: as there are some also, who albeit they know well there are twain, yet they suppose that the one is for meat, and the other for drinks, that the lights also might be moistened thereby. Yea, there have bneene skilful and great Philosophers, who seem to have been in this error, or at leastwise have disputed thereof. But because GOD hath so distinguished these passages, and that the first is the breathing pipe, for the reason uttered before, this excellent Woorkemaster hath made another little instrument, Of the Epiglt or little tongue. called Epiglot by the Physicians, made of a grictly matter, reasonable hard and fashioned like to a little tongue that is of a triangle form, or like an 〈◊〉 leaf. This instrument serveth to cover the pipe for breath, at the very top of Larinx, as it were a cover of a pot. It serveth the pipe to this use, not to keep every thing out of it, but to suffer no meat or drink, or any other thing to enter in in any such quantity as might hinder breathing and respitation. For a little thing will stop a man's breath and strangle him, as appeareth in those whom Histories affirm to have been strangled, some by a little hair, others by a stone of a grape, some in supping up milk, and others by such like tirfles. Yea, many times we have experience of this pevill when we eat and drink, if never so little ineate or drink enter into this passage. Good lessions for every one. Therefore God teacheth us two things thereby: the first is, upon what assenderthreed our life dependeth, seeing so little a matter is sufficient to deprive us of it. The other is, to admonish us how quire and sober we ought to be in eating and drinking, not glutton like; and alsoin speaking, when we take our refection. For than is the danger greatest, if we speak whilst we eat: because we cannot speak without voice, not have voice without breathing nor breath without opening this little cover. And because the breathing pipe is foremost, the meat & drink must needs pass over this little tongue, as it were over a little draw bridge. So that if this small cover were lift up and opened, in stead of going beyond the pipe of breathing, it would enter into it. But it most not be so fast shut up, but that breath may always issue out, and that some thin humour and liquor may enter in, to moisten and supple both the artery and the lungs: otherwise potions appointed for that purpose by the Physicians, were vain and unprofitable. Having now spoken sufficiently of those instruments which are serviceable to voice and speech, and of all the proper offices of the tongue, it willbe thy part, ASER, to morrow, to take in hand again, and to pursue our matter of the senses, and of their instruments, and first to instruct us what the sense of taste is, and what the palate is that serveth it. The end of the second days work. THE THIRD days work. Of the sense of taste given to the palate: what tastes are good to nourish the body: of the diversity of them: of hunger and thirst, and of their causes. Chap. 17. ASER. It is wonderful that God causeth all things whatsoever they be to serve his work in such sort, that nothing is in vain, idle or unprofitable: whereof we have already seen many testimonies in our former discourses of the least parts of the body. But which is yet more wonderful in his providence, he hath created, made and disposed nothing throughout all nature without great order, excellent measure, and modration in all things: which gave occasion to the first Philosophers to call the whole frame of the world, Mundus, which is as much to say, as an Ornament, or a well disposed order of all things. Whereby God would have us especially learn to know, how greatly order pleaseth him, and how he abhorreth all disorder and confusion, and how greatly he desireth, that men after his example, should observe measure and moderation in all their works. Hereof we may have a goodly instruction in this place, if we consider how all the senses, and namely, the taste with those savoury relishes that agree with it, receive their strength, virtue and nature from all the elements, according to that agreement, which their nature and offices have with them: as also what pleasure we take in the relish of all things, when it agreeth with our taste: and contrariwise how it troubleth us, when it is unpleasant and not agreeable to our taste. Yesterday we discoursed of the corporal senses, and of their members and instruments: whereupon we spoke of the tongue, both because of the agreement it hath with the ears by reason of speech, as also because it is the instrument of taste together with the palate, What the palate is. which is the upper part of the mouth, made like to a pretty vault, and to a little heaven. job 12. 11. & 34. 3. Therefore job said, Doth not the ears discern the words, and the palate tastemeate for itself? And again, The ear trieth the words, as the mouth tasteth meat. The sense of taste than is that sense, whereby the mouth judgeth of all kinds of tastes, which are many in number. And this is a notable gift of God, Of the providence of God in the variety of tastes. in that he hath given such relishes to meats and drinks, whereby not only men, but also all living creatures can presently know by their taste what things are good to eat and drink, and what are otherwise. For if God had not given the sense of taste to all living creatures, that they might judge thereby of all meats and drinks, what would their life be? But we are to know this thing further, that men judge by their taste, not only of such things as may serve to nourish them, The sense of taste necessary for Physicians. but also of medicines. For Physicians know the qualities of herbs and simples more by their taste, then by any other sense: afterward by this knowledge they judge easily of their natures and proprieties, and for what remedies and uses of physic they will serve. Therefore this judgement of the taste is very necessary for the life of man, especially for the nourishment of all litting creatures: because all things which the earth bringeth forth are not good to feed them. For some things are divers from nourishment, as earth, clay, wood and stones: other things are altogether unsavoury, and have no taste, and some have but a very little. But God hath provided a remedy for this, by the means of salt, and of sundry forts of sauces and spices, whereby they may be made to have a pleasant taste. There are some things also, which are clean contrary, either by reason of their evil taste, as gall and wormwood, or else because of the hurt which they may bring with them, as those things that are venomous, and very poison. But God hath very well met with this inconvenience both by this gift of the sense of tasting, and also by putting into such things as might hurt either man or any other living creature, a certain quality, which we call relish or taste, that is contrary and very unpleasant to the sense of tasting: as likewise he hath given to those things that are healthful and good to nourish, a relish that is agreeable and pleasant unto our taste. This is to be understood if our taste be not corrupted, either by sickness, or by some unbridled appetite: the like is to be said of the spittle, Another use of the spittle. which beside the use before named, hath this also, that it helpeth the taste. Wherefore if it be already infected with some evil taste, it will not well receive others, but will cause everything to be of the same taste wherewith it is infected and corrupted. Now those things are most savoury, and have the best relish, that have in them the best mixture of heat and moisture, which two qualities make the relish of things, and without which we see that all extreme cold and dry things have no smack or taste, as flax or tow, and dry wood, or water that is very pure. In other things, those that have more moisture than heat, have their taste less sharp, so that according as heat and humidity are tempered together, the diversity of tastes is framed. For if humidity doth not exceed and surmount earthy dryness, or both of them be consumed by heat, there is no taste. So that as all bodily things are compounded of all the elements, and differ one from another, according as they have more or less of the elements, so is it in tastes. For this cause this sense of taste answereth to the element of water, How the senses agree with the elements. and holdeth most of the nature thereof: as the sense of touching hath more affinity with the earth, to the end it might agree better with those things that are to be felt thereby. For the vigour and sense thereof aught to be close together and throughout, and such as taketh faster hold than any of the rest. So likewise the sense of sight agreeth with the fire, and that of hearing with the air, as we have already touched it. And as for the sense of smelling, it agreeth both with the fire and with the thick air, because smells are stirred up by heat, as smoke is by fire, which afterwards are by the means of the air carried to the sense of smelling, whereof we will speak hereafter. But let us go on with our discourse of tasting, and of such things as are apt to nourish the body. For we cannot live without the help of many things: amongst which, meats and drinks are chiefest: because that as hunger requireth meat, so thirst desireth drink. We must therefore understand, that this soul and life which is called Vegetative or nourishing, and which is common to man with all other living creatures, hath two principal instruments in the body, Of heat and humidity the preservers of life. namely heat and humidity: of which, heat is first and chief, belonging properly to the virtue of nourishing: next, humidity is joined to heat, that it may feed and preserve it. For life is preserved in the body by heat, which is the chief instrument thereof: so that as soon as heat is gone, it becometh stark dead. And because this heat would easily and quickly consume itself, if it were not nourished and maintained, moisture is joined unto it in living bodies, as it were a bridle to keep it back, to the end that life might be prolonged, which otherwise would fail presently after it were forsaken of heat, as heat also would decay, if it were not nourished and preserved by humidity, which it necessarily requireth. For heat draweth humour unto itself, and sucketh and drinketh it up: likewise humour refresheth heat, and slaketh the vehemency thereof: all which we may plainly see in a lamp. For let us compare the light of a lamp with life, and then let us consider, whether this light can be preserved without fire, and whether this fire can continue any long time and not be extinguished, unless it have two things. The first is matter, as namely the wick of the lamp: which matter cannot be firm, if it have no dryness in it whereof fire may take hold. For fire being hot and dry, cannot have any fellowship with coldness and humidity, without some middle quality agreeable to his nature. On the other side it will soon consume the dry matter, on which it lighteth, if the vehement heat thereof be not abated and tempered by some humidity, which both resisteth the dryness, and also by the coldness it hath, moderateth the heat of the fire. Therefore we see, that the matter of the wick of a lamp cannot continue long being once lighted, if it be not greased with some tallow, or some humid matter to preserve both that and the fire of which it receiveth light. For when it is burnt out, the fire also dieth with it through want of nourishment that might maintain it. But it is not enough although the fire have meet matter to nourish it. For they must be so well wrought and mingled one with another, that there be neither too much nor too little of either, but as much as need requireth. For if there be a great deal of wick and but a little oil and tallow, it will endure so much the less while: and if there be too much oil or tallow in respect of the wick, it will slake the fire overmuch, yea it may be in such great quantity, that it will put it quite out. But if due proportion be kept between the cotton and the oil or tallow, the fire will preserve itself very well, and give a goodly clear light. A comparison between a lamp and man's body. The like is done in our bodies. For if they were without natural heat, there would be no life in them: and if this heat had not meet matter to preserve itself within them, it would quickly be extinguished. Now seeing it must be nourished and maintained, this cannot be done unless it have some solid and firm matter, which cannot be consumed so quickly, but that it may preserve itself sometime. Again, forasmuch as there is no matter so solid and firm, which is able any long time to resist the fire that consumeth all, if the violence thereof be not moderated, this matter must of necessity be moistened. Here then the meat, which is most solid, standeth in stead of match or week to this natural fire, from whence proceedeth life to the body: and drinks are as it were oil in a lamp, to moisten the meat, to the end that this fire should not consume it so quickly. And because it must always be kept burning, (otherwise the light thereof, which is the life, will die together with it) it must have new matter continually ministered unto it, as it were to a fire that cannot always continue kindled in the chimney and not go out, if it be not preserved by wood or coal, or in a candle or lamp, if it have not always cotton, or week and oil, or some other tallowy and moist matter. Therefore we see that when either of them beginneth to fail, another is put in to supply the place of it. And thus as fire and the light thereof are maintained in a lamp or candle by means of that nourishment they have both in the week and in the tallow thereof: so life and that natural fire which giveth life to the body, are maintained by that food, which they receive ordinarily in eating and drinking. The meat then in man's body, is to nourish and preserve the natural heat thereof, as the week is in a candle or lamp: and the moisture which it receiveth by drink, is unto it as the ●oyle and tallow. The causes of christ and hunger. For this cause if heat be stronger in a man, he shall feel thirst, which is an appetite and desire of that which is moist and cold, that is, of such qualities as are contrary to the fire, which is hot and dry. For the moisture must be confirmed & strengthened to moderate the burning heat, as it is when oil is powered into a lamp. And if both heat and moisture consuming each other, begin to wax faint and to fail, they must both be helped, that they may gather more strength: as when we put not only oil, but week also into a lamp. And this is the cause of hunger, which is a desire of that which is hot and moist. But there is difference between the humidity required in hunger, and that which is required in thirst, because the moisture desired in thirst is more thin and less earthy, then that which is required in hunger. And if the moisture be increased over much, so that the heat decreaseth and languisheth, and consequently the appetite to meat and drink and to receive nourishment, decayeth, it must be restored again by physic. For although all nourishment be as it were physic to the body, Of physic, and the causes thereof. nevertheless, there is this difference, in that food repaireth the whole person and all the body, whereas physic repaireth only the instruments of the body, which are to serve for nourishment. For this cause food is always necessary for all, at all times, and in all places: but besides that all stand not in need of physic, they that want it, use it but at certain times as necessity requireth. For if those members that serve to nourish the body be well disposed, and discharge their office so well, that all the parts of the body receive due nourishment, and the whole body be healthy and sound, there needeth nothing but ordinary food to preserve the body, and to keep it in good health. But if any member be weakened, and doth not his duty well, especially any of those that aught to serve to nourish the whole body, it must be restored again to strength by the means of physic. Now albeit the sense of taste whereof we have presently discoursed, be not so apt to teach, especially, the knowledge of spiritual and divine things, as the senses of seeing and hearing, of which we have spoken heretofore: yet we may receive much good doctrine thereby. For as the body cannot live except it have such corporal food as agreeth to the nature thereof, Instructions from the sense of taste. so the soul cannot live if it have not that knowledge, which God hath appointed for it. And as life is kept in the body by heat, which is the chief instrument thereof, to the life of our souls consisteth and is preserved and increased by heat, namely, by the love & charity of God, without which it cannot live that life that is agreeable to it own nature. For the soul that is separated from the love of God, is dead in respect of the true and blessed life, seeing God liveth not in it, nor it in God. For this cause this love must be always nourished and maintained therein by the celestial and divine moisture, agreeable to the nature thereof. Wherefore as it is of a heavenly and celestial nature, so the food thereof must be answerable thereunto. This food therefore cannot be had but of God, who is the life of the soul, as the soul is the life of the body: and the means which he hath appointed to minister this food unto it, is his heavenly & eternal word, and those spiritual graces which he communicateth unto us thereby. But let us follow our matter subject of corporal senses. And seeing we have entreated of the means whereby the body is nourished, we ought to consider more particularly of those things that are meet and convenient to maintain and preserve the body of man, and see how God prepareth them to this end: in which thou shalt instruct us, AMANA. Of helps and creatures meet for the preservation and nourishment of the body: how God prepareth them to serve for that purpose: of their use. Chap. 18. AMANA. God being careful over the welfare of his creatures that have life, hath put in them a desire to preserve themselves, to the end they should follow after such things as are profitable for their health, and shun that which is hurtful and contrary unto it. The equality of heat and moisture preserveth life. Now this preservation consisteth either in the equality of heat and moisture, nourishers of life, or else in an inequality that may easily be reduced and brought to an equality by that which we eat and drink. For if there be so great excess of heat or moisture that the one consumeth the other, death followeth necessarily: if there be no excess of either, but a good equality, the body is very well affected. But it is very hard to find a body so tempered. And although such a one might be found, yet it could not long continue in that estate, but that it would quickly change, as we may judge by that which we have learned in the former discourse. But when this change doth not bring with it so great excess and inequality, but that it may be kept upright by nourishment, the body is nevertheless well disposed, untiil such time as the excess is greater than can be repaired by food. For then if food will not serve the turn, we must have recourse to physic: and if the inequality be so great, that by the help of physic no remedy can be found, there is no other natural aid to be had. Now this inequality that approacheth so near to equality, Of the inequality that is in the nature of the body. is very pleasant, as that which is the prick and procurer of natural pleasures, necessary for the life of man to incite him to desire them, and as it were the sauce to make them toothsome. For if there were always equality, we should never be affected with hunger or thirst, nor with any appetite to eat or drink. And if this appetite were not, we should not have those pleasures, which we receive by meats and drinks, and by their divers tastes and relishes. So that we should not have such a notable testimony of the goodness and bountifulness of God towards us, and of his care, as we have by the sense of taste which he hath given unto us. Wherein also he admonisheth us in such sort of our mortal nature through the necessity we have of food for the preservation of our life, A testimony of the great providence of God. as that withal he supplieth this want and necessity, that we may the better know and taste the sweetness of his love towards us. For, whereto would those creatures serve that are good for our nourishment, if we had no use of them? And how could we use them, if we stood not in need of them? Therefore seeing the matter standeth thus, it appeareth evidently, that we are nourished by such things as are familiar and like to our nature, and are healed by things contrary to that which hurteth us. For the nearer any thing approacheth to our nature, the sooner it is converted into it. So that amongst those meats that are familiar unto us, they nourish best that draw nearest to our nature. For this cause babes new borne that are little and tender, have milk for their food, which is very meet for them by reason of the agreement that is between it and the matter whereof their bodies are made. What meat is fittest for infants. For, as we have already heard, the milk is made of the self same blood wherewith they were nourished in their mother's womb, and whereof they were before engendered and conceived: forasmuch as the parent's seed, of which they were framed, is derived from their own blood. Whereupon it followeth, that the matter of their bodies is of the same substance: and so that food which draweth nearest unto it, is most natural and meet for them. For this cause we said before, that all things are not serviceable for meat, drink and nourishment, but those only that have a nature agreeable thereto, and that for the reasons specified by us. Here then we must call to mind that which we have already touched elsewhere, namely that seeing the body of man is compounded of all the elements, it is therefore needful that the nourishment wherewith it is to be preserved & upholden, should participate of all the elements, to the end that all & every part of a man's body should be maintained & preserved by that which is like to itself. Therefore God hath well provided to this purpose, as we see in the matter whereof our bodies are made. For we have heard what difference there is according to the sundry parts and diversity of members in the body: & yet the whole matter of them all is taken from the substance of the same elements, and the difference between them cometh of this only, that some parts participate more of some elements, From whence cometh the different substance of our members. & others of other elements. Hereof it is, that the hardest parts of the body, as the bones, are most earthy: and so consequently of all the other parts, as they have either more or less of all the elements and of their qualities. For this cause all the parts and members of the body must have food agreeable to the nature of the elements whereof they participate, according to the portion of matter which is in every one of them. Wherein we see a goodly testimony of the bond and agreement that is among all creatures, yea in all nature itself, together with the correspondency that every creature hath with it like. Therefore if we want air for breathing, we draw it in even as it is of it own nature, together with those qualities which it bringeth with itself. If we desire drink, only to refresh and to moisten the body and the meat it taketh, pure water serveth that turn, which is common drink for all creatures, and sufficient for the whole life of man, although there were no other. Men have more variety of drinks than beasts. But God hath given this advantage to men above beasts, that besides this drink common to them both, they have others, not only more pleasant to their taste, but also more forcible to nourish them. For if the question be of taking sustenance either by meat or drink, we must have such meats and drinks as are more firm than the air and the water, and which are able to sustain the body according to it own substance and nature. For as the water and the air, whereof the body is made, could not consist in the composition thereof, but would slide and fall away, if they were not intermingled with some other matter that is more earthy and solid, thereby to keep and knit them together: even so, if food consisted only in liquid and moist things, that had no other substance of more earthy and solid quality, in which the virtue of heat might remain, and which might be converted into the greatness and massiness of the body, the living creature would always have an appetite, and never leave eating. Therefore God hath so framed those creatures, which he hath given to man for meat, that whatsoever is earthy therein doth not still retain the nature of the earth, as if it were nothing but simple earth: and so likewise that which is of the nature of fire, or of the water, or of the air: but all is so well mingled and tempered one with another, that the taste and savour thereof is pleasant and fit for all the parts of the body, that are to be nourished. And according as the qualities of the elements are mingled one with another, so the meats and drinks compounded of them, have their sundry tastes together with their other qualities. For if God had not so provided for it, man could have no taste therein: and if he tasted not, he would have no appetite, and so could neither eat nor drink. And if he could neither eat nor drink, he could not live, as we may judge by that which we have already heard. We must eat neither too much not too little. Now as he cannot live without eating and drinking, so it is requisite that he eat and drink with that moderation, that he take in no more meat and drink than he ought to do. For if he take too little, he cannot be sufficiently nourished: and if he take too much, instead of being satisfied, he shallbe burdened, and in stead of preserving his life, he will kill himself. Therefore it is very necessary that every one should always observe great sobriety, otherwise God will correct our riot, our gluttony and drunkenness. But the danger that cometh by not keeping a mediocrity, is a great deal more to be feared on the one side then on the other. For there are but few that break not square oftener in eating and drinking too much then to little. Now to end this speech, we have farther to gather such good instructions as all men have in those things which God hath given them for nourishment, The chief end of food. yea in their mouth also, to the end to render unto him honour, glory and praise. Whensoever beasts do eat, their tongue serveth to feed them, no otherwise then that of men doth help them: but they praise not God with that tongue which serveth to nourish them, because he hath not given them that gift of speech, wherewith he hath endued man, and that for the cause which we have already heard. For as a fountain cannot be without a river, so a river cannot be without a fountain. For this cause seeing reason, of which God hath made man partaker, is as it were a fountain in him, and speech as the river that issueth from it, the Grecians express both reason and speech with one and the same word, which Saint john also used, when speaking of the Deity of jesus Christ, john 1. he said, In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and that word was God. For as all the works of God are perfect in their kind, so he maketh nothing without cause, and which hath not his use. So likewise he giveth nothing to any creature, but withal he giveth the instruments and means which it ought to use, thereby to be made serviceable as the thing itself requireth. Hereof it is that he gave not speech to beasts, because he made them not partakers of reason, without which speech would stand them in no stead: so that it would have been a superfluous work of GOD. Therefore seeing it is so, God requireth not of beasts that they should by speech praise him with their tongue, as he requireth it of men, unto whom he hath given the means to perform it. For beasts have neither reason to understand what is spoken, nor speech to utter any thing thereby, whereas man hath both the one and the other. He hath both the fountain, and also the river that runneth from it. Wherefore when he sitteth down to meat, and whilst he is taking his refection (to which use his tongue serveth him, according as we heard before) and when he riseth from table, truly he is much more brutish than any brute beast, if with the self same tongue he doth not praise and glorify God, acknowledging as he ought the goodness of that celestial Father, Unthankful men are like to hogs. that giveth him that food, and that nourisheth him. If he do otherwise, he looketh no more from whence the meat cometh unto him than doth the hog, who with his snout always towards the earth, feedeth upon the acorns that are underneath the Oaks, and never looketh or considereth from whence they fall. Yea, the hog doth a great deal better discharge his duty in praising GOD then such men do, that eat and drink as brute beasts without giving thanks to God for the benefits he distributeth amongst them. For he praiseth God in his kind, as all other creatures do in theirs, according as the kingly Psalmist testifieth in many places of his Psalms. Neither doth God require more of them then he hath given unto them. But seeing he hath given more to man then to all other visible and bodily creatures, he requireth so much the more of him, and that very justly. For as it is written, Luke 12. 48. To whom much is committed, more shallbe demanded of him. Wherefore man is not only too too inexcusable, but more vile and savage than any brute beast, if his tongue serve him no farther at the table for the praising of God thereby, then if (beastlike) his snout and nose were in a cratch or manger. For how shall the food in the use thereof be sanctified by the word of God and prayer, if he take it after that sort? And if it be not sanctified unto him by that mean, as Paul teacheth, he useth it not as the child of GOD, but as a thief and a very profane man. For as Every creature of God is good when it is received with thanksgiving, 1. Tim. 4. 4. so it is defiled to the filthy, not through any fault of the creature, but of such as abuse it like to Infidels. But all they abuse it that give not thanks for it to the Creator. Food must be received with thanke● giving. Wherefore as every thing is clean to the clean, that have their hearts purified by the word of God which they have received by faith, so nothing is clean to the defiled and to infidels. But if these men of whom we speak, be unworthy to be taken for men, yea, to be compared with hogs, than whom they are much more vile and detestable, we may easily judge what is to be said of those that do not only not praise God or give him any thanks, but which is worse, blaspheme, and as it were despite him in lieu of recompensing him for the benefits they have received of him, which is usually done by gluttons, drunkards, and swearers. What shall we say of such men, but that they deserve rather to be called mad dogs than men? Some more like to mad dogs than men. except we had rather call them children of the Devil, whose instrument, tongue and mouth they are. And as for those that cease not to prattle and babble about vain and unprofitable matters, and that take delight in backbiting and slandering every one, we may with good reason compare their tongue to the clacket of a mill. For seeing every one of us carrieth a mill in his mouth, as we showed before, these men may truly boast that their mill is better furnished with all kind of instruments than others are. But they are not the more to be esteemed for that, but rather the less, for the reasons which we have already heard. And when they add to their clacking evil speech and backbiting, infecting all tables where they come with their tongue, they may well be compared to dogs that do not only bark but also bite. But it is time to draw the last draft of the pencil upon the face of man's body, by considering the sense of smelling with the member that belongeth unto it: wherein we look to be instructed by thee, ARAM. Of the Nose, and of the sense of smelling, and of their profit and use: of the composition, matter, and form of the Nose. Chap. 19 ARAM. Forasmuch as beauty is a grace that proceedeth of the proportion, agreement and harmony of things, it is then very seemly in man's body, What beauty is, and wherein it consisteth. when it followeth nature only, and is without any blemish or defect. Now this beauty consisteth in sour things, namely, in figure, in number, in greatness and in situation. For the members of the body are well or ill coloured according to the disposition of the matter. And the correspondency of the members one towards another, aswell in the number, as in the length and greatness of each of them well compassed and proportioned together, is one cause also of beauty: as likewise the placing of every one of them in his proper place, most convement and agreeable to his nature and use. For if any thing be wanting of all these things in any member of the body, there is deformity in stead of beauty. But if we consider only the beauty of the head and of the face thereof, whereof we discoursed yesterday, we shall not find any one member that hath not singular beauty in it, and that agreeth not very fitly with the rest, being of so good proportion and measure, and having such a great and excellent grace, that a man may truly say that the whole work hath in each part thereof so great perfection, that nothing can be added or taken away, nothing can be wished to make it more fair, profitable, excellent or perfect than it is in it own nature. To the setting forth of this beauty, the nose, whereof we are to speak, serveth very much, yea so much, that hardly any member in all the face or head so disfigureth a man, or maketh him more deformed than the nose, if it be evil favoured, disfigured, or taken clean away. But besides this beauty, which it bringeth to a man's head, we are to know, that it is very serviceable to the whole body, The nose is very serviceable to the brain. and chief to the brain lodged in the top thereof, as it were the Lord and Master: that as it giveth motion and sense to all the members, so it might be compassed about with all the senses, as it were with servitors & men of guard. Therefore as it hath near about it, the eyes, ears, tongue, and palate, which are the instruments of seeing, hearing and tasting: so the nose is needful to serve the sense of smelling. Neither is it placed so near the sense of tasting without the great providence of God. Why the sense of smelling is placed so near to that of tasting. For there are many things in nature, which if they be tasted only are deadly, or at leastwise very dangerous and hurtful, as appeareth chief in things that are venomous and poisonful. For this cause, albeit the sense of smelling be not altogether so necessary for living creatures, namely, for such as are most perfect, as the other senses, so that they may more easily want it, nevertheless GOD hath given it them, to the end it might be as it were a messenger to the taste to show what is good for it and what not, and this chief for two reasons. The first is, to keep men from hazarding themselves through an immoderate desire to eat and drink, before they have discerned by the smell of such things as are to be taken, whether they be profitable or hurtful for them. The second reason is, to take all suspicion and fear from them, which otherwise might cause them to abstain from those things that are good and profitable for them. Of the agreement of these two senses. And therefore this sense of smelling is nearly conjoined, and hath great agreement with the sense of tasting. For this is a general rule, that, albeit every thing that smelleth well hath not always a good taste, yet whatsoever a man findeth good to his taste, the same hath also a good smell: and contrariwise, that which is found to have an ill relish, the same hath also the like smell. For the taste and smell are given not only for profit, but for pleasure also and delight. Neither do those things which serve for delectation, always bring profit, but sometime the contrary, principally through their fault that know not how to use them moderately. For they are so subject to their pleasures, How men abuse these senses. that they can never keep measure in anything, as we see by experience, especially in these two senses of taste and smell. For as the ordinary meats satisfy not the delicate appetites of men, but they must have new dainties daily invented to provoke their appetite further, and to cause them to eat and drink more than is needful, to their great hurt: so men are not contented with natural odours which nature bringeth forth of itself, but now they must have musks and perfumes, with infinite variety of distilled waters and artificial smells, in regard of which, natural favours are nothing set by. And yet if they were used with sobriety, there were no cause of reprehension, seeing all the creatures of God are good, if they be used moderately, and a they ought with thanksgiving. Hereof it is that they are oftes mentioned in Scripture in the good part. And not to seek far off for examples, john 12. 3. we have the testimonies of the holy evangelists, as our Lord jesus Christ himself, who was neither nice nor voluptuous, but the perfect pattern of all sobriety and temperance, did not reject nor condemn precious ointments and sweet odours, but sometime permitted the use of them upon his own person. How the spirits are res●est●ed with sweet odours. Moreover, it is certain, that the animal spirits in the brain are greatly relieved and recreated by those good and natural smells that are conveyed unto them by means of the nose, and of the sense of smelling placed therein: as contrariwise they are greatly offended by evil odours, yea oftentimes by artificial savours, which commonly cause rheums, catharres, and great headaches. For the spirits of the head are subtle, pure, and very neat, so that sweet smells are good for them, and stinking savours contrary unto them. To this end therefore that the brain might receive this benefit of good odours, Of the divers uses of the nose. God hath placed both the sense and instrument of smelling so near unto it: the instrument to keep and convey odours unto it, the sense to discern and judge of them. Therefore this sense of smelling hath some agreement both with the fire and with thick air, because smells are stirred up by heat, as smoke is by fire, which are after carried by means of the air unto the sense, and received and kept by the nose. Forasmuch also as the brain needeth air to nourish and preserve the animal spirits, the nose in this respect also standeth it in great stead. Therefore God hath created it not only to serve the sense of smelling, but also for respiration, that it should be the principal pipe and passage, by which both the brain and lungs may draw in or let out breathe as need requireth. For this cause the brain doth stretch out and restrain itself: and as by stretching forth itself it draweth in the air by the nostrils, so by keeping itself close together it retaineth the air. And so the external air being drawn in by the nostrils, is distributed by the crannies that are open in the palate, in such sort, that the greatest part is drawn into the lungs, and the residue goeth to the brain by the passages & holes that lead unto it. And although the mouth serveth also for respiration, yet the nose is appointed more especially for that purpose, and is much more fit and apt for the same. Therefore God hath given it both matter and form agreeable for that office. Of the matter of the nose. For first concerning the matter, it is not made all of bone, nor all of gristles: because if it were all of bone, a double inconvenience would ensue thereof. The first is, that the bones would be in danger of breaking, chiefly about the end of the nose when it should hit against any hard thing because they would not bend and give place easily, as sinews will do. The second inconvenience would be this, that the ends of the nostrils could neither open nor shut, neither enlarge nor restrain themselves, but would continue always at one stay: whereupon two other mischiefs would follow. First, the nose could not open and enlarge itself so much as were requisite many times to draw in great store of air to cool and refresh both the lungs and the brain, especially when they are heated and set on fire. For at such a time there is peril of strangling. Secondly, forasmuch as the nose is given to man that it might serve the brain in stead of a pipe and spout to purge it of slegmatike humours, How the nose is in stead of a spout to the brain. a man could not by blowing, close it together and strain it to get the filth out of it, as need requireth many times. For the humours that distil from the brain are not always very liquid & running, but sometimes so gross & thick, that a man cannot easily purge the brain or nose, except it be closed and strained hard. Thus you see two evident causes why it was needful that the nose should be compounded of gristles, & not of bones only, at lest wise from the middle downward. On the otherside, if this lower part had been made of flesh only, or of kernels, or of skins, the nostrils could not so well have been enlarged or renstrained, nor continued so open, as is requisite for the service of all those duties and offices already mentioned: besides that those parts could not so well withstand the inconveniences whereunto they might be subject, if they were of a more tender matter. Lastly, as it was needful that one part of the nose should consist of that matter for those causes spoken of, so also it was necessary that the upper part should be made of bones, not only to keep the sense of smelling the better, which is in that part, and to be as it were a buckler unto it, but also to serve in stead of rampires both for the eyes and for the brain. As for the inward parts, there are two nostrils distinguished one from another by a gristle which is between them both, Of the nostrils, and of their parting asunder. as it were alittle wall to divide them, to the end that if the one be stopped, the other may always discharge the offices assigned to them both. And to the end they may more easily draw in the air for the service as well of the lungs as of the brain, and also receive in the odours, they are larger at the first entrance, and after as they ascend up they wax more narrow, and that not without good reason of the providence of God. For he hath in a manner taken the self same course that he did in the composition of the ears, which he made large & wide at the entry, having that form, & that hole within, which we heard spoken of before, together with the causes why. The self same reason in a manner may be rendered here. For as it is to be feared, that over great sounds would hurt the ears if they entered in all at once, so the lungs and much more the brain might be over cooled by the air that should enter in at the nostrils, if it should ascend up too fast at once, too suddenly, or too vehemently. By reason whereof it is requisite, that it should be retained in some sort, to the end that by the tarriance which it maketh, it should be heated and better tempered. The like consideration is to be had of the vapours and smells in regard of the brain, not only of evil savours, but also of those that are good. For some are so violent by reason of the abundance of heat in them, which falleth out chief in such as are most excellent, that if they be not dispensed moderately, they hurt the brain. This cometh to pass in some persons, through the weakness of their brain. There are others, and namely such as care not for sweet things, who take no peasure, no not in good smells, so that oft times the sweetest & most delicate odours are hurtful to their head. Now God hath well provided for all these things, having placed a little bone in the top of the nose, which is pierced through like to a little siue. Hereupon it is called by the Physicians the sive-bone, Of the spongy or sive-bone. or otherwise, and that more properly, the spongy bone, because the holes thereof are not straight, as are those of a siue, but somewhat slopewise like to the holes of a sponge. And this serveth for the better & more commodious discharging of all those uses declared by us, & for the avoiding of those discommodities which we have heard of. Whereunto may be added, that the humours which descend from the brain may not fall down so fast together, but distil better by little and little, and the good humours be kept more easily from falling down all at once together with the evil. Of the muscles of the nostrils and of the sinews of smelling. I pass over here briefly the muscles given to the nostrils to move them, as also the nerves, which are sent from the brain to the sense of smelling to bring unto it the virtue of smelling, as the eyes, ears, palate, and tongue receive from thence their nerves also, which bring unto them that faculty and virtue that is meet for their nature. Wherein we may further note one goodly point of the providence of God, in that giving motion and sense to every member of the body by the sinews, he giveth a special and proper sense to those nerves that are to minister virtue and power to every one of the corporal senses, which the other sinews have not. For there is none that giveth the sense meet for sight, but those that are allotted to the eyes for that purpose. The same may be said of those that are given to the ears for hearing, and to the tongue and palate for the taste, and to the nose for smelling. Now to end this speech, we are to draw out some instruction meet for the mind, according as we have done in our discourses of the other senses of the body. As than we judge by the nose & sense of smelling which God hath given unto us, what difference there is between a good and a stinking smell, and how the one is pleasant & delightsome, and the other unpleasant & abominable: so likewise we ought to consider what small pleasure God taketh in the infection and stinch of our sins, Notable instructions for the soul. and how he is delighted with the sweet smell of the justice and virtues of Christ jesus, when we are presumed therewith, and when he smelleth the savour thereof in us. Therefore whensoever, and as often as we feel some stinch and abhor the same, that evil smell ought to admonish us of the filthiness of our sins, and teach us to have them in greater abomination than any catrion smell whatsoever, and to abhor ourselves when we present ourselves before God, presumed with such an infernal savour. For if we turn our faces aside, and stop our nose, and even spit upon the ground when we meet with some great infection, shall we not think that God turneth his face from us when he findeth us so stinking and infected? Contrariwise, when we smell some good savour, it ought to bring into our remembrance the odour of jesus Christ his sacrifice, and of those virtues that are well pleasing and agreeable in the sight of God, and stir us up with all endeavour to present him with such smells, to the end we may be of good odour before God and men. Which the holy word will teach us, after he hath given us a spiritual nose whereby we may attain to the right sense and smell of that good odour of jesus Christ and of the Gospel, working in us the spirit of discretion to discern truth from lying, that our souls may be refreshed, as the brain is by those good smells that are brought unto it by the bodily nose, and by the sense of smelling that is therein. Now therefore being come to the end of this goodly matter of the five corporal and external sense, me thinks we should profit much by a brief collection of their use, and of the commodity which they bring to men: considering also the diversity that is in their faces and visages, in which these goodly organical instruments of the senses are planted: and how their faces are images and pictures of their heart and mind. The discourse of this matter appertainth to thee ACHITOB. Of the use briefly of all the outward senses for the service of man, namely in purging the superfluities and ordures of his body: of the diversity that is in men's faces, and of the image of the mind and heart in them. Chap. 20. ACHITOB. When we taste some pleasure by considering the works of God, namely those which we bear about us in our nature, (as indeed such contemplation affordeth great delight to their souls that are not buried in ignorance) we ought to think that we have great occasions and certain means to consider, what pleasure and joy it would be to see and behold the Creator and Workmaster, who hath made & given to man such excellent senses, such wonderful virtues & faculties: what delight ariseth of hearing & smelling only some small odour, & of tasting a little of his providence, wisdom, goodness, benignity, grace, & mercy much more, when they are throughly tasted & relished of us. Which may be performed by them that employ all care and diligence in meditating in his eternal word, and in considering the works of his Almighty power, until such time as by the dissolution of this mortal tabernacle of the body, they shall have put on immortality to enjoy true contemplation, that is, to behold him face to face, who only is able to satisfy soul with goodness and felicity, Psal. 16. 11. as the Prophet teacheth us where he saith, In thy presence is the fullness of joy, and at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Now than we may know by that which we have hitherto heard in these our discourses, what testimonies God hath planted of his great providence in all the parts of our bodies, what care he hath had and still hath of man, Of the use of the external senses. and how he hath given him as many corporal senses as he needeth for the use and fruition of all those visible and bodily creatures which he hath created. For he hath eyes, whereby he useth and enjoyeth the light, and the pleasure of such diversity of colours as may be seen in the world, as well natural as artificial and compounded, with the sundry mixtures of natural things. Then by the ears he hath the use of all kinds of sounds, and principally of speech, together with the pleasure of harmonies and melodies consisting in the variety of tunes and songs, as well of m●ns voice as of birds and other creatures, and also of instruments of music, which are so many and of such diversity amongst men And by means of the nose and nostrils he hath the fruition and pleasure of odours and smells so divers in nature, both natural and artificial: and by means of the mouth, tongue, and palate he enjoyeth and judgeth of all sorts of tastes, which also are very divers, and chief of meats and drinks wherewithal he is nourished. For this good God hath appointed a mean for the preservation of man's life, whereunto he hath joined pleasure with profit, if men know how to use the same with moderation and measure, rather to make supply no necessity then to satisfy pleasures. The like may be said of all the rest of the feelings and touchings of all the bodily members, of which there is great variety. But having spoken sufficiently of the composition of the external parts of man's body, and of the outward members, of the natural senses of man and of their uses, we ought to consider also what instructions God giveth by them unto men concerning their infirmity. Of the fupersluities that proceed out of the body. For although the body of man be so beautiful and excellent outwardly as we have declared, yet it hath infection within, which of necessity must appear and break forth outwardly, that it may be purged and unburdned. For the body cannot reap that profit of the nourishment it receiveth by all the elements, and chiefly of that which it eateth and drinketh, as that it can convert & turn all of it into nourishment & substance, & avoid all those accidents & inconveniences whereunto it is subject by reason of the infirmity of it own nature. Therefore it cometh to pass necessarily, that the body is full of excrements, of much superfluity & ordure, which would kill it if it were not discharged and delivered thereof. For these excrements would be poison unto it in stead of nourishment. Therefore the providence of God hath so provided a remedy for the same, that admonishing man of his infirmity, to the end he should always remember that he is created of clay and earth, & that he shall return unto it again, it hath withal ordained the means whereby man should be comforted & discharged of those excrements & superfluities which might hurt him. And for this cause there is no member but hath his proper passages appropriated for purgation & serving in his place, yea even the noblest members. For I speak not only of those members, Of the passages meet to purge the body by. which we account most vile, abject, & shameful, & which nature teacheth us to cover & hide, being appointed for the voiding of the grossest, vilest, & most filthy excrements, but also of those that are the excellentest & chiefest in the head & face, so that there is no part of our body out of which there proceedeth not some infection & filthiness. Insomuch that a man may well say, that our whole body is within as it were a stinking draft or puddle that emptieth itself on every side as it were by sinks & gutters. For if we consider it generally, there is no part that is not subject to sweat, (which oftentimes savoureth very strongly) and that purgeth not it selfby sweeting from that superfluity, which it casteth forth by that means. Therefore the providence of God hath so well provided for this, that the skin hath in it little holes called by the Physicians, Of the pores in the skin. Pores: which are so subtle and so small, that they cannot be perceived by the eye. Through these pores, the superfluities that are evaporated by sweat have their issue, so that it cometh to pass oftentimes, that sick persons are cured by this only remedy, or at least wise they are greatly comforted thereby. But let us come to the noblest members in the head, and in the goodliest part of man, which is the face. The eyes, ears, nose, and mouth serve for pipes and spouts to the brain and head, Of the spouts of the brain and head. to purge it of those superfluities that otherwise might oppress it. Wherein we are again to consider of the providence of God, and of that care which he hath of us. For seeing the head is the principal member of the whole body, and seeing the brain within the head is so noble a part, God hath given unto it more passages for the purging of it, than he hath done to all the other members. Therefore we see what store of phlegm doth daily issue out by the nose and mouth, so that a man is many times much troubled both in blowing his nose & in spitting. In this respect it seemeth the nose maketh the face to look like a Limbeck, The face compared to a Limbeck. albeit the water that distilleth through it hath no very good smell, neither is pleasant to look upon, no more is the spittle that cometh out of the mouth. As for the ears, they are not without their filth, so that they must be oftentimes looked unto and cleansed, and the wax that is in them taken forth: which differeth much from the wax that is made by Bees. For as Physicians testify, this earwax is nothing else but the superfluity of the choleric humour, which is purged there by those pipes: as they say also, that the melancholy humour is purged by the eyes, which are many times waterish and very foul by reason of the rheums and sundry humours that fall down upon them. Whereby we see, how God doth admonish us on all sides through the infirmities of all our members, what account we are to make of ourselves. Good instructions for all men. For if the goodliest & most noble members, if the pleasantest, most delicate, & neatest parts are so foul & filthy, what shall we say of the rest that are the basest & most abject, which are appointed for no other uses then to be as it were the draughts & sinks of the whole body? But on the other side let us consider how God by humbling us on the one side, doth yet on the other side provide for our necessities by those means of purging which he hath appointed for the body of man. Where we have further to observe, The profit of care-waxe. that there are some superfluities & excrements purged from the brain, which are profitable for those members that are assigned to be the instruments of their evacuation: as we see it plainly in that yellow humour that is purged by the ears. For it defendeth them against fleas, little flies and other small worms and beasts, that might otherwise enter within them. We have further to consider for our better humiliation, that God hath so created all the members & instruments belonging to our corporal senses, as that he admonisheth us thereby of their nature, & what they can do of themselves. For there is not one of them, but it is in some sort made hollow, to give us to understand thereby, that they exercise their principal & chief office by receiving from without, that which belongeth to their nature, and not by sending forth any thing of their own. For when the eyes see, they receive into them the images of those things that are before them. And if they send forth any thing, it is so far from helping them to see better, that it hindereth and dimmeth the sight, as we see when men weep, or when any humour runneth out of their eyes. Likewise our nose hath no sense of the odours, by means of that wind and breath which proceedeth out of it, but when it draweth in the air with which the odours are conveyed into it. And so it is of the other senses. Whereby we are taught to know the nature of our soul, which can bring forth no good thing, if it have not received it before of God, to whom she can give nothing but only receiveth from him. You see then many good lessons, which we are taught by the instruments of our senses and by our own nature: but we commonly pass them over and never think of them at all, or if we muse upon them sometimes, we say as much indeed, and confess it in word, but in the mean time we are nothing humbled thereby. Now than we have bestowed doors and windows upon the frame of man's body, and may with ease behold the outward excellency and show thereof, in regard of so many goodly works as are cut out and engraven in every external part of it. We are by and by to look upon the inward furniture, being enriched with all sorts of rare, great, and sumptuous works. But for the end of our present matter, seeing we are taught that so many profitable and pleasant senses and members are planted chiefly in the face and visage of man, it cannot be without fruit and great admiration at the providence of God, The diversity of faces is wonderful. if we consider that amongst so many faces as there are of men, women, and children, a man shall hardly find two in all the world, that resemble each other so near, but still some difference will appear to him that looketh narrowly upon them. And if therebe any so apparent resemblance that a man cannot find any difference, yet that falleth out very seldom. Neither is this seen only in the whole countenance, but also in the several parts thereof, and namely in the nose, whereof there is so great variety, The great variety of noses. as that you shall find very few that are like in all points: so that it is to be wondered at, that in such great similitude of faces there is so great dissimilitude. For there is great likeness in that they are all human faces, made of the same matter, and having the same parts: but yet they are very unlike in respect of the particular differences, which are in each of them and of their parts. Now if we have occasion to admire this diversity that is among many, what shall we say to the dissimilitude and difference of countenance that is to be seen in one & the same man, Variety of countenance in one man. as if he had many faces to use & change at his pleasure, as we see men may change masks before their faces? It is certain that there appeareth great difference in the countenance of one and the same man, as he is either young or old, sound or sick. For as a man's years alter, so there will be still some change in his face, bearing his countenance according to the health or sickness that is in him. But I speak not now of this diversity, but of another which happeneth to men in all ages, and at all times. For there is great difference to be seen in a man's face according as he is either merry or sad, angry or pacified, humble and modest, or lofty and proud. For if he be quiet and modest, he will have a sweet, mild, and gracious countenance: The description of an angry visage. if he be angry, he will have a furious face, as though he were transfigured into a savage beast, having fiery eyes as if he cast from them flames of fire: he will cast forth smoke at his nostrils, as if he had a furnace kindled within him: his whole countenance will be as red as if fire came out of it. Therefore it was not without reason said of a Philosopher, that angry and furious men should behold themselves in a glass, to the end they might know thereby how such passions change their countenance, and how they are transformed thereby and look hideous and fearful. And if a man be lofty and arrogant, Of an arrogant countenance. his visage will testify the same sufficiently, especially his eyes and eyelids, which will be lifted up, as if pride and arrogancy had there placed their seat. For if we deny or grant any thing that pleaseth or displeaseth us, we declare it by them, speaking by signs, as the tongue doth by words. And although pride be conceived and bred in the heart, Pride is seated upon the eye lids. yet it is seated on the eyelids, where it showeth and manifesteth itself. For seeing it desireth always to be advanced and to be lift up above all, yea to be alone without any companion, that place is very fit and convenient for it, being high, emivent, and apparent. But a proud person ought to consider, that that place is very much declining, to the end he may think of the danger of falling down, as they that are in some high and sleep place where they can take no hold. For it can not be but that pride will have a fall, howsoever it may seem long first. For that sentence of jesus Christ is always true, who sayeth, Matth. 23 12. Luke 14. 11. that Whosoever will exalt himself shall be brought low, and whosoever will humble himself shall be exalted. The eyes also do speak and testify of the heart within. For if the heart be humble, modest, chaste, and well stayed, the eyes will be so answerable thereunto, that their very looks will declare sufficiently how it standeth affected. Contrariwise, if the heart be proud, unchaste, lose, impudent, and lascivious, the look and countenance of the eyes will openly bewray the same. Also we say commonly of such as have lost all shame, that they have brazen and shameless foreheads. And it seemeth that the French word Affronteur, is derived from thence, because they that are of that occupation must have good foreheads, they must be bold and shameless, like to harlots and murderers. And as shame is seated and appeareth principally in the forehead and cheeks, The seat of shame. so is it a note of impudency when shame is banished from thence: as that which then possesseth the place assigned to shame and modesty. Therefore the Scripture attributeth a brow of brass and of iron, Esay 48. 4. Ezech. 3. 8. a hard forehead, and a strong face to them that are impudent and past grace, to such as are untractable and rebellious. By these things than we know how the face is the image, messenger, and witness of all the affections of the heart, insomuch that it is very hard for him, do what he can, to cover and conceal them. Also it is the image and witness of a good and evil conscience. For as a good conscience causeth it to appear joyful and open, so contrariwise an evil conscience maketh it sad and hidden, as it were the visage of a condemned person. We commonly call Physiognomy the Science whereby men judge of the nature, complexion, and manners of every one, by the contemplation of all the members of the body, and chiefly of the face and countenance. Of the true Physiognomy. But there is no Physiognomy so certain as that which-wee have now touched, whereby men may be easily convinced of that which they think to hide in their hearts, which notwithstanding is quickly descried in their countenances, as if we read it in a Book. Now it is time to enter into our edifice and building, there to contemplate the internal and spiritual senses, which the foul useth in her works and operations. But first we will make the way more easy to attain to so high a matter, by learning briefly what is the nature, faculties, and powers of man's soul, and what are the sundry kinds of souls, the burden whereof I lay upon thee, ASER. Of the nature, faculties, and powers of man's soul: of the knowledge which we may have in this life, and how excellent and necessary it is: into what kinds the life and soul are divided. Chap. 21. ASER. If God hath showed himself wonderful in the creation, composition, nature, and use of the external senses and members of man's body (of which we have hitherto discoursed) both in the matter whereof they are made and in the form given unto them, and in all other things that belong unto them: no doubt but we shall have much more cause to marvel at the excellent workmanship of his providence in the composition, nature, and use of the internal senses and members, which lie hidden within the body, whereof the sequel of our speech requireth that we should entreat. For these are the principal, by means of which the other receive life, and are kept and preserved in life. But forasmuch as the soul giveth life to the whole body and to all the members thereof, we are withal to consider of the nature thereof, what faculties and virtues it hath, and how it worketh in all the parts of the body, according to that knowledge which GOD hath given to men, both by the testimony of his word, and by the effects of the soul. For neither the body nor any member thereof should have any more motion or feeling then is in a block or stone, if it had no soul to give it life. For this cause after job hath spoken of the creation and composition of his body, job 10. 12. he addeth, Thou hast given me life and grace, and thy visitation (that is to say thy providence) hath preserved my spirit, This agreeth with that, which we have heard before of Moses, Genes. 2. 7. where he sayeth, That the Lord made man of the dust of the ground, and breathed in his face breath of life, and the man was a living soul. First therefore we must understand that there are in man three kinds of faculties and virtues that work continually within him and never cease: Three sorts of faculties in man. the first is commonly called Animal, the second Vital, the third Natural. Of these two latter we will speak hereafter. Concerning the Animal faculty, it is divided into three kinds: the first is called Principal, Of the animal power. the second Sensitive, the third Motive. The Principal is divided by some into three kinds, by others into five. They which make five sorts, distinguish between the common sense, the imagination, and the fantasy, making them three: and for the fourth they add Reason, or the judging faculty: and for the fift, Memory. They that make but three kinds differ not from the other, but only in that they comprehend all the former three under the common sense, or under one of the other twain, whether it be the imagination or the fantasy. Of the sensitive. As for the Sensitive faculty, it comprehendeth the virtues of the five corporal senses, of which we have spoken before. Of the motive. As for the Motive virtue, it comprehendeth the moving of all the outward parts of the body from one place to an other, especially of the feet and legs which is to walk, and of the hands which is to apprehend and to gripe. This moving is done by the sinews, muscles, and filaments, as we have already declared: but not without knowledge and will, as the other that are more properly called natural motions, of which we may speak in their order. And this motion is led by the imagination in regard of beasts, but in regard of men, by reason. But because we have already handled at large these two last powers of the soul, namely, the Sensitive and Motive, when we spoke of the external members of the body, we will now speak especially of the first, which comprehendeth the internal senses spoken of by me even now, which answer to the external senses, according to the bond, agreement, and communication which the body and soul have together. And because we cannot know the faculties & virtues of the soul, How we come to the knowledge of the soul. but only by means of those instruments whereby it worketh, as we have showed in our former discourses the nature and use of the external members, and how the soul is served by them: so now we will do the like by the internal parts, to the end that we may the better know the nature of the soul by her operations and instruments, as the labourer that worketh by his instruments, and frameth those works that are before our eyes. For the soul being of a spiritual nature and not bodily, we cannot see it in it own substance and nature, nor have any knowledge thereof but by the effects, by which we may judge and conclude of their cause, as also by those testimonies of the soul, which the Lord affordeth us in his word. And although the understanding of man can not attain to an entire and perfect knowledge of the soul, yet that small knowledge which we may have, doth exceedingly profit end delight us. For seeing it is the most excellent creature that is created under the cope of heaven, yea more excellent than the heavens themselves, or any of the celestial bodies, because the soul only is endued with reason and understanding, The knowledge of the soul how necessary and excellent it is. there is no doubt but the knowledge thereof is more excellent, profitable, pleasant, and necessary, yea more worthy admiration then of any other thing whatsoever, as that which always yieldeth profit to the greatest things that can be. Therefore we ought not to set light by that knowledge of it which we may attain unto. For there is in it so great variety, beauty, and harmony, yea it is so well adorned and set forth, that no heaven nor earth is so well painted or bedecked with such beautiful, lively, and excellent images and pictures, as that is. On the other side, she is the Mistress and Author from whence proceedeth the invention of all Arts and Sciences, and of all those wonderful works that are made throughout the whole course of man's life. Therefore no man can behold her or think upon her without great pleasure and admiration. And seeing the fountain and wellspring of all the good and evil that befalleth us is in the soul, there is nothing more profitable for men then to know it well, to the end they may labour more carefully to keep this fountain pure and well purged, that all the rivers of their actions and works may issue and flow pure and clean from thence. For that man can never govern his soul well, The knowledge of ourselves very, necessary. nor be master of himself, that doth not know himself. If we desire to know what works we are to look for of a workman, what he can do, or what may befall him, what he is good for, and for what he is unmeet, he must first of all be known what he is. Therefore that sentence of which we have already spoken, that saith, Know thyself, ought here especially to take place and to be practised. For it is a harder matter to know the nature and quality of our soul and of our mind, the virtues and affections thereof, to inquire and consider of it well, and to know what may be known thereof, as also the diverse and hollow lurking holes, the turnings and windings therein, then to know the bones, flesh, sinews, and blood of our bodies, with all the matter whereof it is made, and all the parts and members thereof. Seeing then we are to make enquiry of the nature and powers of the soul by the effects thereof, according as I have already spoken, and seeing the principal effect is the life which it giveth to all living creatures, let us first consider of the difference that is between the creatures void of life, and those that have life in them. Afterward let us look into the sundry sorts of lives that are in living creatures, as that which will help us well to the understanding of that we seek for. First then we must note that all creatures are either spiritual or bodily. The division of creatures. All they are spiritual creatures that are without bodies, and which cannot be perceived by any bodily sense, and such are the Angels both good and bad, and the souls and spirits of men. The bodily creatures are all those that are visible, and that may be felt and perceived by corporal senses: amongst which some have no life, and some have life. Of creatures without life. Again, those creatures that have no life, differ in two respects; for some of them have no natural motion, as stones, metals, minerals and such like creatures. Others have their natural motion: among which some are mutable, corruptible and subject to change, others are immutable & incorruptible, continuing always firm in their estate during the course of this world. The water, the air, the winds and the fire are creatures having motion, albeit they have no life: but they are subject to corruption, and so are all the creatures that are compounded of the elements, whether they have life or no. For being made of contrary matters and qualities they corrupt and change, not in respect of their first matter and substance, which can never perish, according to the testimony of Philosophers, notwithstanding it altar in form, but always returneth to the first nature. Stones and metals, albeit they be very hard, yet are they not freed from corruption and consuming through use. The celestial bodies are immutable. But the celestial bodies are of that matter and nature, that they move continually, and yet abide always entire and in their first form, not being subject to any change in respect of their bodies, neither do they wear or consume away as other creatures do that are underneath them. Insomuch that none of the celestial spheres are either wearied, worn or spent more with all the labour they have undergone by the space of so many years, than they were the first day of their creation. For we must not take it for a change of their natures and qualities, that according to their diverse course, the sun, moon, and other planets & stars are sometimes further off, sometimes nearer each to other, that they have their oppositions, conjunctions, diverse and different aspects, according to the diversity and difference of their course and motion. We may say as much of the Eclipses both of the sun and moon. For the change that is amongst them is not in their own bodies, substance, & qualities, Of creatures having life. but only in regard of us and of our sight. Concerning the creatures that have life, they are for the most part divided into three kinds: but they that distinguish more subtly make four kinds. And because life is given by the soul, the Philosophers make as many sorts of souls as they do of lives, and call them by the same names. They call the first, the nourishing or vegetative soul or life: the second, the sensitine: the third, the cogitative: & the fourth, the reasonable soul, or the soul partaker of reason. Of the vegetative life. Touching the first, there is a kind of life, that hath no other virtue in the creature to which it is given of God, then to nourish and cause it to increase, and to keep it in being, until this life fail it. The soul that giveth life with these effects is called nourishing or vegetative: & this is proper to all herbs, trees, & plants that are maintained & kept in their kinds by the seeds, or by planting, setting, Of the sensitive. & such like propagations. The second kind of life named sensitive, is so called, because it giveth not only nourishment and growth, as the first, but sense also and feeling. They that will have but three kinds, make but one of this and of that which is called cogitative by them that make four, who attribute the sensitive soul to the sea sponges, to oysters, cockles, and to those creatures which the Grecians and Latins call by a name, which in our language signifieth as much as plant-living creatures, because they are of a middle nature between plants and living creatures having life and sense, as if they were compounded of both these natures together: so that they are more than simple plants, and yet are not perfect living creatures, as those are to whom is attributed the cogitative or knowing soul. Of the cogitative. And this is a soul and life, which not only giveth whatsoCuer the two former imparteth to the creatures in whom they are, but also a certain virtue and vigour, as of cogitation, of knowledge, and of memory, that they may have skill to preserve their life, and know how to guide and govern themselves according to their natural inclination. This soul is proper to brute beasts, whom some think to be partakers after a sort of reason, so far forth as it concerneth things belonging to their nature. But we will proceed no further at this time in this disputation: only let us note that they which make but three kinds of soul or life, do give to brute beasts that which we called Sensitive, comprehending them under that kind of life, unto which they attribute the same virtue and vigour whereof we now spoke, and which is distinguished by others, from that kind of soul that giveth only simple sense unto the creature. Of the reasonable soul. The fourth kind of soul and life is that of men, which hath all whatsoever is in the former kinds, and over and beside that (which is most excellent) it is partaker of reason and understanding: wherein it agreeth with the life of Angels, as we will declare more at large in place convenient, and show also the difference that is between them. For this cause the soul of man given unto him, is commonly called a reasonable soul, as all the former are called by man's agreeing to their nature, as we have declared. Therefore seeing this kind of soul and life comprehendeth all the virtues and properties of the rest, it may be called Uegetative, Sensitive, Cogitative and reasonable altogether. But we must note here, that there is great difference between the souls of men, and those other of which we spoke before. For beside that the soul of man is partaker of reason and understanding, with all properties that are in the rest, it hath that common with the Angels, who are spirits created of GOD to live a spiritual life without bodies, that it is immortal also as well as they. But of this immortality we hope (GOD willing) to entreat at large hereafter, as also of the creation and proper nature of the soul. In these two points then of understanding and of immortality, The soul of man differeth from that of beasts, in understanding and immortality. the soul of man doth much differre from that of beasts. For although they have a soul that giveth unto them life, motion, and sense, with all other things touched by me, yet it is not partaker of understanding, nor of an immortal nature as the Angels and souls of men are, but it is of a mortal nature, which endeth and dieth with the body. Therefore albeit the soul of man hath in it whatsoever is in the rest, beside that which is proper unto it above the rest, and that which it hath common with the Angels, nevertheless it is called only by the name of that thing which is the principal, chiefest and most excellent in it: as also the like is done with all the other kinds of soul and life. But me thinks we ought to consider more fully of that which man hath either common or divers in his nature from the soul of beasts, and what are the proper actions of the soul joined with the body, and how it is hindered by the body without any change of nature. For the consideration hereof will greatly further our knowledge of the internal and spiritual senses, of which we are to discourse, that we may step by step ascend up to the highest understanding and knowledge which the mind of man can attain unto concerning the soul. Let us therefore hear AMANA of this matter. Of the two natures of which man is compounded: how the body is the lodge and instrument of the soul: how the soul may be letted from doing her proper actions by the body, and be separated from it, and yet remain in her perfection. Chap. 22. AMANA. Albeit the greatest excellency of man, which far passeth that of all other living creatures, aught to be valued according to the soul that God hath given him, differing from the soul of all other living creatures, his body being mortal & corruptible as that of beasts is, yet there are other points of excellency in the matter, form, and use of all the parts and members of which the body of man is made, that are not found in any of the other, as we have sufficiently showed in our former discourses upon this matter. Whereby God would teach us, that he hath prepared and built this lodging for an other manner of inhabitant than he built the bodies of beasts, The soul is the proper inhabitant of man's body. even for a soul that differeth far from theirs. For seeing he maketh nothing without good reason, or that is without his profit, he showeth by the instruments prepared for the workman whom he will set on work, what manner of one he ought to be, & what works he hath to make. And because he hath appointed works and offices for the soul of man, which he would not have in the soul of brute beasts, he hath given to man such members and instruments as he hath not given to other living creatures. As for those instruments which he hath common with beasts, God hath otherwise disposed and placed in his body according to the office every one hath, as we may learn by their discourses. It is very evident, Two natures in man. that man is not only this mass and lump of skin, flesh, sinews, bones, and of such other matter gathered altogether in one body, whereof we have spoken already, but that there is yet in him another nature whose substance is invisible, over and above this bodily nature which we see. For experience showeth us what difference there is betwixt one and the same body when it is alive, and when it is dead. When there is no life in it, none of all those faculties and virtues whereof the former discourse entreated, appear within it, as we see they do so long as life dwelleth therein. And yet then the body is not deprived of those members which it had before death, but keepeth them still, until such time as they corrupt and waste away of themselves, and finally fail altogether for want of the soul and life that should preserve and keep them sound. In the mean time we see, that they are without force, and as unfit for use, as if they were not at all, because they want soul and life, which giveth them vigour and setteth them a working. It is very clear then by death, that the body hath no life of itself, nor any of those faculties and virtues which life bringeth with it, but that it receiveth them from another nature then from it own. And this nature is called Soul, having sundry offices in man, as we have already understood, and will hereafter handle them more particularly and in order. But in the mean time we must note, that although the soul be not bodily, nevertheless it useth a bodily nature and instruments which it receiveth from that, for the performance of those works that are assigned unto it: which the soul could not do without such instruments as are necessary thereunto. For as we heard in the former speech, that among the creatures of God some are spiritual, others corporal, so we are to know also, Two sorts of spirits. that among the spiritual creatures, there are two sorts of spirits, of which some, namely the Angels, were created to live a spiritual life agreeable to their nature, The description of Angels. approaching nearer to the nature and life that is in God then any other: not being united or conjoined to any bodies that belong unto them, unto which they should give life, as if they were creatures compounded of body and spirit. Therefore we call them not by the name of souls, as we do the spirits of men, which God hath created to dwell in bodies, to give them life, and to be joined with them in one person made of two natures, to wit, of a spirit and of a body. men's souls have always life in the. These spirits, which are also called human souls, can live well enough, and preserve themselves in their substance, having life always in them, even after they are separated from their bodies. But the like cannot be said of the bodies, which cannot live, nor be preserved in their substance without their souls and spirits. Therefore jesus Christ said, Matth. 10. 28. Luke 12. 4, 5. Fear not them that kill the body and cannot kill the soul: but rather fear him that can destroy both body and soul in hell. Wherefore albeit we cannot see the soul, neither when it entereth into the body, and is joined unto it, nor when it dwelleth there, nor yet when it departeth; yet it followeth not thereupon that it is not at all, or that it cometh to nothing. For the effects thereof show us the contrary, so long as that life which it giveth to the body continueth therein. And albeit we see no more effects of it, when it is severed by death, yet it followeth not thereupon that the same thing should befall it that doth to the body, and so corrupt therewith. For it is so far from corrupting with the body, that it keepeth the same from corruption so long as it is therein. And being separated, no marvel if it effect no more that which it did in the body by those instruments which it had, because it hath them no longer. Wherefore in this respect it is like to an excellent workman, The soul compared to a cunning workman. who cannot labour in his occupation without such instruments as necessarily belong thereunto. Yet in the mean season the workman continueth always in the same estate, and hath no less knowledge and art in him without his instruments, then when he hath them, albeit he use them not when they are away. And although he enjoyeth both his instruments and his art, yet can he not well use them, nor perform those works which he hath to make, if they be not found, but corrupted or spoiled, as we see in an instrument of music. For if the chanter or Musician be very expert in his art, To a musician. and handle his instrument as he ought to do, yet can he never deliver those sounds, tunes and harmony which otherwise he would, if his instrument were good. And yet that shall not hinder the Musician from being always as skilful and expert in his art, as if his instrument were very good and sound. To an inhabitant. Likewise if a man dwell in a dark lodging, he cannot see so well and clearly, as in another that is very lightsome: and yet he shall not have sundry eyes, but the self same in both places. So that it followeth, that his dimness of sight in the one lodging rather than in the other, proceedeth not of any defect in his eyes, but of the house and habitation wherein he is. The like may be said of the soul lodged in the body, whose actions and works therein are much hindered if it be badly lodged, if any part of the lodging be not good, or if it want those instruments and tools that are necessary for it. For although it hath the virtue of sight in itself, yet it cannot without eyes see those things, which by means of them it beholdeth. And although it hath in itself the virtue to cause the hands and feet to move, and to set them on work according to their office, yet it cannot do those works by a maimed and lame hand, which it will do by him that hath both his hands, nor cause a lame cripple wanting a foot or leg, or having some defect in those parts, to walk as well as an other that hath all these sound and perfect. And a man may judge of my speech, by that which happeneth not only to them that fall into an Apoplexy, but also to such as have some quaume about their heart, so that they faint and sown, and are for the time as it were dead: and yet afterward pluck up their spirits, and come again to their former estate. But before they be revived, they seem as though they had no soul in their bodies, because it is not perceived by the works thereof, as it is when the body is well affected. And this is chief to be seen in a strong Apoplexy, or falling sickness, in which the patiented looseth all motion and sense. Whereupon it hath come to pass oftentimes, that many have been buried for dead in that case, who were notwithstanding alive, and some have recovered and done well afterward, as we have many examples both in common experience, and in histories old and new. Now whilst the soul is thus letted from performing her actions by such inconveniences, who would not judge, that she were clean extinguished with the body? Nevertheless afterward when she can use her instruments, she showeth plainly that the fault cometh not of her, but of the instruments that fail her. The soul is the workman, the body, the tool. Therefore when we speak of the soul and of the body, we must put the same difference between them that is betwixt a Workman and his tools, considering the nature of both, and what they can do both jointly and severally. For an instrument hath neither knowledge nor force, nor virtue of itself, being able to do nothing alone, but only so far forth as it is set on work by some workman. But there is another reason in the workman. For although he cannot use his art without those instruments that are necessary thereunto, yet he hath always abiding within him that art, power, force, and dexterity, whereby he worketh. So that when we speak of the soul, we are to consider what she can do of herself and of her own nature without the body, and what she cannot do without it. For we learn in the holy Scriptures, that when Angels appeared to men, because they are spirits, and have no speech like to that of men, as being bodiless and wanting instruments necessary for the framing thereof, therefore they took men's bodies to appear and speak to men in and by them. No marvel then if the soul, which is created to use the members of the body as instruments, speaketh not without a tongue, as it doth with one, and with the other Organs of voice and speech. Now forasmuch as we know, that the soul giveth life, motion and sense to all the body, and that it hath sundry instruments in the body, in which and by which it performeth those works for which they were created of God, we are now to consider what faculty, power and virtue it hath in every part of the body. For albeit that we cannot assign to the soul, especially to the spirit and understanding which is the most excellent part therein, any certain place of lodging, as if it were enclosed within any one part, or within all the parts of the body, nevertheless we may judge of the nature thereof by those instruments whereby it worketh, and by their nature, and by the works it produceth. And in this consideration we have a goodly glass, A glass to see God in. wherein we may contemplate God that is invisible, making him visible and known unto us by his works: even as the soul is become as it were visible, and showeth itself to us by the body, in which it dwelleth, and by the works which it doth therein. Therefore let us propound unto ourselves this whole visible world as it were one great body, than all the parts as members thereof: next let us consider how the soul of all this great body, namely the virtue and power of God worketh therein, and effecteth all the works that are done therein, according to that order he hath set therein, as the soul worketh in the body of man and in every member thereof. Thus doing, as we know that there is a soul in the body, and another nature beside that, which is bodily, and which worketh therein, and this we perceive by the effects thereof: so let us mark withal by the works done in this visible world, that there is another nature that effecteth them, which being invisible differeth from all this world we see, as that which is far more excellent, which filleth the whole, and by virtue and power is in all the parts thereof, as a soul in a body. But in propounding this glass before our eyes, we must take heed, that we fall not into their dotage, who have thought and affirmed that the world is the body of God, The world is not the body of God. and that himself is the soul thereof. For thereupon it would follow, that God is mortal and corruptible in regard of his body, and that some part or other thereof would always corrupt, as we daily see corporal things do. Again, if it were so, God should not be infinite and incomprehensible as he is: for the world doth not comprehend and contain him, but he all the world, whereof he is the Creator, and by whom the world is and consisteth. Seeing then the soul is the image of God in man, as the body of man is the image of this great world, in which God worketh as the soul doth in the body of man, let us consider how God hath distributed the powers, virtues, and offices of the soul in the body, and in every part thereof, as he manifesteth his glory, and virtue in all this visible world, & in all the parts of it. How the soul in the body resembleth God in the world. For first they agree herein, that as there is but one soul in one body, which is sufficient for all the parts and members thereof, so there is but one God in the world, sufficient for all the creatures. Next, if we cannot conceive how the soul is lodged in the body, or how it giveth life unto it, neither yet how it worketh & displayeth therein the virtues which it hath, but only so far forth as it testifieth the same by those divers effects, which we see and perceive in every part and member thereof, no marvel then if we cannot with our eyes discern or comprehend how God is throughout all, filling heaven and earth, how he displayeth his power and virtue, how he worketh in all his creatures, and how he guideth, governeth, and preserveth them by his heavenly providence. For if we cannot comprehend the creature, nor the nature thereof, how shall we comprehend the nature of the Creator? And if it be not in our power to know the works of God wrought in us, neither the works of our own soul, The absurd collection of Atheists. how shall we know his works done in the whole world? And if we be not able to understand or comprehend them, doth it follow therefore that he doth them not? yet there are many that conclude after that sort. For they believe nothing but that which they are able to conceive, know, & comprehend by their natural reason. And so, because they cannot know how the soul being of a spiritual nature is joined with the body, which is clean of another nature, nor conceive how it is lodged and worketh therein, therefore they must conclude that they have no soul, which worketh that in them that is there done. For they see not, neither can they show how it worketh by those instruments, which it hath in the body, but only so far forth, as they behold the work. But we shall have occasion elsewhere to handle this more at large. For this time let us go forward with our speech of the powers and faculties of the soul, considering first of the brain, which is the principal instrument thereof, and the seat of the internal senses already mentioned by us, of which we are to be instructed particularly. Of the Brain, and of the nature thereof: of the sundry kinds of knowledge that are in man: of the similitude that is between the actions and works of the natural virtues of the soul, and of the internal senses. Chap. 23. ARAM. The workmanship which God hath wrought in the whole course of nature, as well in the nature of the heavens as of the elements, of living things, of plants, metals and other creatures, doth undoubtedly contain in it great miracles, and very excellent and evident testimonies: which show plainly unto us, that the nature of all things, yea of the whole world, cometh not by fortune and at adventure, but that they were created and ordained by a more excellent nature than any can be found in all the world. But there is not a more express and clearer image of the divine nature, then in that part of man, wherein are to be found those great and marvelous virtues and properties, Of the Animal virtues. which are commonly called Animales, as namely the thought, understanding, and knowledge of numbers, and of order, reason, judgement, memory, with the discerning of honest things from those that are dishonest, of good things from bad, together with the election or rejection of them. Therefore the contemplation of these virtues and powers is very necessary for us, that by the knowledge of them we may daily learn to know GOD the better, by that resemblance and similitude of his wisdom, which he hath vouchsafed to transfer and to imprint in man's nature: and that we might be induced thereby to glorify him: and that we should labour to the uttermost of our power, to have this image shine in us more and more, and daily to increase in likeness unto the pattern from whence it is taken. Now let us follow that division which we have already made of the sundry faculties, virtues, properties and offices which the soul hath in the body, namely, the Animal, Vital and Natural: and that division also which we made of man's body, unto which many attribute three several parts, and call them bellies, the first and highest of which they place in the head, Three bellies attributed to man's body. for the Animal faculties and virtues: the second, which is the middlemost belly, in the breast and stomach for the Vital virtues: and the last, from the Midriff to the share-bone for the Natural faculties. They understand by the first the whole brain, which they divide also into sundry parts, and call them likewise Bellies, and little Bellies. We have already heard of the excellency of the head, of the place and situation thereof, of the goodly outward members wherewith it is beautified, of the bones whereof it is made, and of the covering wherewith they are covered, that the brain might have his convenient lodging, and such a one as is requisite for the nature and office it hath: that it might be well fortified and defended on every side to preserve and keep it well, against all outward inconveniences that might come unto it: and to the end also it might have near about it all those servants and senses which it guideth and governeth, and all those instruments which it standeth most in need of, both in regard of the works it is charged with, as also for the purging thereof. Forasmuch then as it is lodged in the head, we are to know, that as the head hath a certain agreement with the heavens, and the eyes with the celestial lights, Of the brain & of the image of God therein. as we have already touched, so is it likewise with the brain. For it is of a more heavenly nature, and approacheth nearer to the spiritual and divine nature then any other part of the whole body, as that wherein a man may find all those excellent virtues and Animal powers, of which I made mention in the beginning of my speech, and which are no actions or works of a brutish nature. Whereof also it followeth very well, that the Woorkemaster and author thereof, cannot be of a brutish nature, without understanding and knowledge of order, of things honest and dishonest, and of good and bad. Which teacheth us moreover, that he greatly esteemeth of the preservation of nature and of human society, & detesteth whatsoever is contrary thereunto, seeing he hath imprinted in man such an image of his divine nature, as he would not willingly have defaced & blotted out. Wherefore, although we cannot thoroughly know, either the nature of the brain, or the actions thereof, or of the soul which it serveth: yet that which may come to our knowledge will greatly help to confirm more & more this testimony of God and of his providence, which is already imprinted in our hearts by the light and law of nature. Therefore it were very good and profitable for us, to consider diligently of that resemblance of God, which every one of us beareth in a very small image, that we may give him thanks, and refer to their proper end all those gifts and excellent parts, which he hath placed in our nature. We are to note then for the first point, that as GOD manifesteth more excellently his divine nature, and the glory of his majesty in the heavens, and in the highest parts of this great visible world, than he doth in other parts more base and terrestrial, The brain most resembleth the heavens. as we may easily know by the contemplation of them: so dealeth he with the head and brain of man, which is as it were the lodging of the internal senses already named, which are far more excellent and noble than the outward senses. For if living creatures, and chief man, should only and barely apprehend those things that are before them, without any imagination, thought, or consideration of them, thereby to know how to choose or reject them, as they may be either profitable or hurtful, it would not be greatly profitable, to have them presented to the outward senses. For this cause God hath joined unto them another faculty and virtue, which is much more excellent and wonderful then is the simple apprehending of them. This faculty and power is given for the knowledge of things, and that to the instruments in the brain, as it appeareth by experience in this, that according as the brain and the parts thereof are well or ill affected, it is perceived in the internal senses, of which they are the instruments, as we will express more plainly in the sequel of our speech. But concerning this present matter in hand, Three kinds of knowledge. we are to note, that there are three kinds of knowledge. The first knoweth those bodies only that are present before it: the second knoweth those also that are absent: and the third those things that have no bodies. We see by experience, that although plants have a certain agreement with other living creatures, namely in this, that they enjoy the same life with them, which we called before the Vegetative or Nourishing life, nevertheless, other living creatures have this more than they, that they know, see, hear, taste, smell and touch, which things are without them: whereas the whole life of plants hath nothing but that which is within them, having no sense or knowledge outwardly. Of the first kind of knowledge common to all living creatures. Concerning that knowledge, which taketh notice only of corporal things that are present before it, it is the same that belongeth properly to the external senses, of which we spoke before, and which are given by God to living creatures for their preservation. For seeing they are bodily natures, and must live amongst bodies, he hath endued them with a certain knowledge of those bodies, to the end they may desire and follow after such things as are agreeable to their nature, and eschew that which is hurtful. Now that which is hidden within anything, is known by some outward means. And therefore the bodily senses were given unto them, to the end that by them they might know whatsoever is external, being annexed to the things that are perceived. And although God hath not given to all living creatures outward senses alike, yet they that are perfect have all those five senses spoken of in our former discourses, by which they are able to perceive and know all outward things, so that nothing can be found, which is not comprehended under the knowledge of these senses. Wherein God hath so provided, that according to man's judgement we see, that all perfect living creatures ought to have just so many & not one more or less. For if they had less, they should not be so perfect as they are: and if they had more, they would be superfluous and for no use, at leastwise so far forth as our small capacity could conceive, leaving in the mean while to the incomprehensible wisdom, and infinite power of God, that which we are not able to comprehend. For we own him this reverence, seeing he alone knoweth all things that are necessary and expedient for all creatures. Now besides this outward knowledge of things present, Of the second kind of knowledge. we see plainly, that there is another knowledge within of things that are absent. For our own experience teacheth us, that even then when our external senses are retired and withdrawn from doing their duties, the imagination, thought, consideration and remembrance of those things we have seen, heard, tasted, smelled, touched and perceived with corporal senses, remain still in us both waking and sleeping: as it appeareth by our dreams, in which the images and resemblance of those things which the bodily senses perceived waking, are represented to our internal senses when we are asleep. We see testimonies of some part of this knowledge even in brute beasts, which causeth them to have respect to such things as they need: but yet they have it not as men have, who have far greater knowledge, & more internal senses than beasts, Of the third kind of knowledge. as being partakers of reason and understanding. The third kind of knowledge, which is of things that are not bodily, is the principal effect of the understanding, which lifteth up all the senses of man to the cotemplation of the divinity, & of the spiritual and supernatural things: which kind of knowledge is proper to man and to no other living creature. Of this knowledge we will entreat more at large hereafter, when we shall speak of those principal and most noble senses of the soul, namely understanding and reason. In the mean time that we may the better know the faculty virtue and office of every one of those internal senses of which we will entreat, we are to understand, that the soul worketh by them in their places, almost after the same manner it doth in the divers kinds of her natural faculties and virtues, according to the nature of every one of them. For this power and virtue which we call natural, Of the natural virtue and of the kinds thereof. and which before we said was the third faculty that continually worketh in man and never ceaseth, is divided into three sorts. The first is the virtue of nourishing, the second of augmenting, the third of engendering: and these have six other virtues and faculties common to them altogether. The first draweth unto it, the second holdeth fast, the third digesteth, the fourth distributeth, the fift assimilateth and incorporateth, that is, converteth into it own substance that which is dispensed unto it, and so turneth it into the substance of the body that receiveth it: the sixth driveth forth whatsoever is superfluous. For the nourishment which the body receiveth would do it no good, unless it had some virtue in it to draw the same unto itself, as also members and instruments meet for this work, as we will declare more at large by the help of God, when we shall speak more particularly of this matter. Besides, it is not enough for the body to draw food to itself, but it must also retain the same. And because the things that are taken cannot nourish the body except they be turned into the nature thereof, therefore they must first be digested and prepared by this means, as we use to prepare such meats as have need of dressing before we eat them. But because they are not sufficiently prepared by this first dressing, they must be once again dressed by the natural heat that is in the body, without which neither the heat of the material fire, nor the heat of the sun will serve the turn, unless this natural hear also do his duty. Now after the meat is thus digested and prepared, it must be distributed and parted to all the members, that every one may take such nourishment as is meet for it. And because the matter is divers in the whole composition of the body, as namely, bones, gristles, ligaments, sinews, arteries, veins, flesh and other kinds of matter whereof we have spoken heretofore: therefore must the food also be so converted in every member, as that it is to be altered into a substance altogether like to every several part it hath to nourish. Now forasmuch as all that the body taketh in for nourishment, is not fit for that purpose, after that nature hath taken that which may do her good, she rejecteth the residue, which is not only not profitable, but also very hurtful for her, unless she did cast it forth, and so discharge and purge the body thereof. Now let us see how the like is wrought in the brain between the internal senses and the Animal virtues. Of the Animal virtues and powers in the internal senses. For first there must be some faculty and virtue that receiveth the images imprinted in the senses, the knowledge whereof is as single and plain as may be, because it is only of things that are bodily and present, as I have already declared. This virtue is called Imagination, Of Imagination. or the Imaginative virtue, which is in the soul as the eye in the body, by beholding to receive the images that are offered unto it by the outward senses: and therefore it knoweth also the things that are absent, and is amongst the internal senses as it were the mouth of the vessel of memory, Of Memory. which is the faculty and virtue that retaineth and keepeth whatsoever is committed to the custody thereof by the other senses, that it may be found and brought forth when need requireth. Therefore Memory is as it were their treasurer to keep that which they commit unto it, and to bring it forth in due time and season. Now after that the Imagination hath received the images of the senses, singly and particularly as they are offered unto it, then doth it as it were prepared and digest them, either by joining them together, or by separating them according as their natures require. Of Fantasy and Common sense. They that distinguish Imagination from Fantasy, attribute this office to Fantasy: others say it belongeth to the Common sense, under which they comprehend both the former faculties, because the office thereof is to receive the images that are offered unto it, and to discern the things as they are presented by all the external senses, and to distinguish them as they do. afterward it is requisite, that all these things thus heaped together, should be distributed and compared one with another, to consider how they may be conjoined or severed, how one followeth another, or how far asunder they are, that so a man may judge what is to be retained and what to be refused. And this office belongeth to Reason, after which judgement followeth, Of Reason and judgement. whereby men choose or refuse that which reason alloweth or disalloweth. For it belongeth to reason to discourse, and memory afterward, as I have already touched, hath this office to retain and keep all. Thus you see the similitude and comparison that may be considered of between the actions and works of the natural virtues of the soul, and those of the Animal virtues in the internal senses: which may greatly help us to the better understanding of that which we have already touched before, concerning the spiritual food of our souls, which properly belongeth to the internal senses. Now because all these senses, faculties and virtues have their instruments in the brain, before we speak more at large and particularly of their office and nature, we must see how these parts are placed in the head, and what vessels and members they have in the brain: and this ACHITOB shall teach us. Of the composition of the Brain, with the members and parts thereof: of their offices, and of that knowledge which ought to content us, touching the principal cause of the virtues and wonderful powers of the soul. Chap. 24. ACHITOB. The actions, faculties and virtues of the soul are so high & obscure, that their excellency far surmounteth the capacity of our understandings. For we have no other soul above this that effecteth these works, whereby we might see and know the nature hereof, as by this we come to the knowledge of corporal things, whose nature being of less excellency & more base, our soul which is of a more high and noble nature is able to know, comprehend and judge of them. But because there is no nature in us more high & excellent than our soul, none can know it as it is, The nature of the reasonable part in the soul is hard to be known. but only the creator that made it, especially that reasonable part of the soul, wherein the image of God is more lively, and shineth more clearly then in the rest. Therefore we may in some sort know by this part, faculty and virtue which is the chiefest, what is the nature of the rest, that are inferior unto it. But because there is no part in us above that, we cannot perceive and know how it useth the internal senses, with their vessels and instruments, as by this we may judge of the Vital virtue, which it showeth unto us in the heart, and of the Nutritive virtue which it discovereth unto us in the liver, and in other parts and members serving to these faculties, as also to the virtue of generation. Therefore we must wait for a more ample knowledge of ourselves, chief of our souls, and above all of that part which is most excellent in it, when we shall by the goodness and grace of God behold face to face the creator that created it, and shall behold and know ourselves in him, and contemplate him in all perfection and truth. But seeing we understood by the former speech, that all the Animal faculties and virtues, and all the internal senses (in the knowledge whereof we desire to be instructed more at large) have their seats and instruments in the brain, let us now consider how these parts are placed within the head. And first of all we must call to mind what we heard before of the outward parts thereof. As for that which is within, there are hollow places, called Little Bellies, Of the little Bellies of the brain. distinguished by distance of place, as it were divers chambers in one building. Therefore there are certain membranes or skins both to distinguish them and knit them together, as also to preserve and keep them from all hurt and danger. Now albeit these skins have this office, yet it is much to be marveled at, how this whole frame can keep itself and continue so firm, as it were the roof of a house or Church, considering that the matter there is great, spongy, and very tender. The first of these skins is a thick covering, which is one of the chiefest skins that belong to our body. The substance thereof is thick, and harder than any other skin, Of D●●a matter, or the hard mother. and therefore it is called the Hard mother, because it bringeth forth and preserveth all the rest. The use and profit thereof is to wrap and fold in round about the whole brain, and to keep it, that whilst it moveth, it should not be hurt with the bone of the head, which is commonly called the skull. For nature useth to set a mean between two contraries, Of the skull. as well to knit them together, as to preserve both the one and the other. Therefore because the bones of the skull are hard, Three uses of the hard Mother. and the brain is soft and tender, God hath placed this covering, which is of a middle substance between them both, and is so tied to the one and the other, that it hangeth as it were between both, and toucheth neither of them, but there is space between them, to the end that the motion of the brain might be free without any let or hindrance. The second use thereof is, to serve for a passage to the veins and arteries, for the nourishing of the brain and governing of the vital spirits. Last of all, it serveth to distinguish the whole brain, first into two parts, namely into that before, and that behind: then into the right side and the left. It is of this skin whereof some men think Solomon spoke, when he made mention of a golden Ewer broken in the extremity of old age, Eccles. 12. 6. and so we expounded it when we entreated of the marrow in the chinbone. Of jia matter or the godly mother. Besides this skin, there is another named the Godly mother, which is fine and very slender, woven of many veins and arteries, serving not only for it own life and nourishment, but also for that of the brain. Neither doth it only compass and wrap in the brain round about, as the Hard mother doth, but entereth also into the bowels and windings thereof, to tie and knit it together on all sides. As for the brain, Of the brain and office thereof. which is the fountain and beginning of the sinews and of the voluntary motion, and the instrument of the chiefest faculty of the soul, namely, the Animal and reasonable faculty, it is greater in man then in any other creature, as that which filleth almost the whole skull. I say almost, because if it filled it full and wholly, the motion thereof could not be perfect. His office and use is, to work and make fine the Animal spirit, which is necessary for the whole body, and to serve as an instrument to the faculty of reason, which is the chiefest faculty and virtue of the soul. The first part of the brain retaineth the name of the whole, The division of the brain. being divided into two parts, namely into the right part and the left. The hinder part is called the little brain, and that in comparison of the other parts. So that when a man considereth the whole brain, he shall find within the substance thereof four Ventricles, or hollow places, which are joined together by certain ways. Now although we cannot see with our eyes, nor well understand and conceive how the soul worketh by her instruments, nevertheless God giveth us a certain entrance into some knowledge thereof by the matter and form which they have. And therefore it seemeth, that these little bellies of the brain have such ways from one to another, to this end that by them, the spirits that are made and imprinted by the sensible and intelligible kinds and images, might pass and be communicate one with another. Now because they must not only be well wrought, but also thoroughly cleansed of all excrements, God hath created those vessels and instruments, in which this work is to be begun, greater than the others which are to receive the spirits already wrought and almost perfected. Therefore the two first are the greatest, having their situation before, namely on each side one, and being in fashion like to two half moons. The third is underneath them right in the midst of the brain. The fourth and last is upon the bending down of the nape of the neck. As for the two first ventricles, they are so conjoined the one with the other, that they end in one common pipe or passage, like to two pair of smiths bellows, And it seemeth that God hath made them of that fashion, as if he meant thereby to show us, that the spirit of the said ventricles having received his form of the kinds and images propounded unto it, is carried by this passage into the middle ventricle or belly. I omit to speak at large of many vessels and instruments, which serve the brain for sundry purposes, amongst the which there is one, which both the Greek and Latin Physicians call by a name that signifieth a Press, Of the press and Vault in the head. because the blood is pressed into it for the nourishing of the brain: and another called a Vault, both in respect of the fashion and of the use. For it is like a Vault or arch-roofe fet upon three pillars, and is as it were the roof and covering of the middle ventricle, that there might be a more free and easy space for the motion of the Animal spirit that is made therein: and also that it might more easily sustain and bear the great quantity of brain, that leaneth unto each side of it. I omit also other instruments, which serve in like manner to strengthen and support the parts thereof. There is also one instrument made as it were of many pieces joined together like little wheels, Of the Like worm and of his office. which is called Like-worme, because of the likelihood it hath with those great white worms that are found in rotten wood. It seemeth that this piece was placed there, to be as it were the porter, to shut and open the passage of the spirits that go into the hindermost ventricle, to the end they should enter therein measureable, and so avoid the confusion of the memory that is placed there: which otherwise would happen if they should enter in too suddenly and too much at once. Of the passage whereby the superfluities of the brain are voided. There is likewise a pipe; to evacuate the gross and thick excrements of the brain, aswell by the roof of the mouth, as by the nose: and therefore because it resembleth a little basin, or rather a funnel, it is called by those names. Moreover, there is a pipe that passeth from the middle ventricle to the last, which is as it were the chariot of the spirit, to pass from one to another. In all which things, and in many others particularly observed by Physicians and Anatomists, in this part of the brain, we may note a wonderful workmanship both for the variety of instruments, and for their fit application to those duties that are assigned them. Wherefore we may well say, that it is in this part of man chief, wherein GOD doth most excellent manifestly his divine nature, and the glory of his majesty. And this we shall better perceive, by considering particularly and in order unto which of the internal senses all these parts of the brain are vessels and instruments, in which the faculties and virtues of the soul are contained and doc show themselves. But as was said in the beginning of our speech, None can here attain to a perfect knowledge of the essential power of the soul. let us not here look for a sound and perfect knowledge of that substantial power, whereby the soul effecteth so many marvelous works by the means of these senses. For so high a secret being laid up and hid in wisdom and truth itself, cannot fall within the small capacity of man's sense and understanding, until the light thereof be purged from that corporal darkness wherewith it is covered and compassed about during this life. Nevertheless by a diligent contemplation of that matter, which we have noted worthy of admiration, we shall find sufficient wherewith to content our minds, by causing them to look to themselves, in respect of that which it hath pleased GOD here to reveal and manifest two manner of ways. First, because we may in some sort take a view of nature, by searching out therein those things, of which she doth here set before us very evident testimonies: even those things which may be demonstrated (although grossly) according to the capacity of our dull understandings. The second way, which is the chiefest and most sure, is by that testimony which himself affordeth us in his word. For let us not think that the mind can pronounce any thing for certain, but as it is directed by the testimony of GOD, seeing the senses which he hath given us, come short herein, and are not able to ascend up so high. For the excellency of this creature, and of the nature thereof is such and so great, The mind cannot perfectly know itself. that it cannot perfectly know and comprehend itself, especially where it is of greatest dignity. So that if we desire to have certain knowledge, whither should we have recourse in this defect of our senses, but unto him that is able to certify us truly in this point. And who can testify the truth of the work, but the Workemaster that made it, and therefore knoweth it better than any other, and all the perfection that is in it? Why then do we not yield to GOD that honour in a thing not to be comprehended by us, which we do to men of whom we are well persuaded in things which we cannot know but by their testimony? For how many things do we believe of which we know not the causes, and for which we have no other reason showed us, but only the testimony and authority of men, whom we judge worthy of credit, who notwithstanding may themselves be deceived, and deceive others. But GOD cannot be deceived, God cannot deceive, nor be deceived. nor deceive those that give credit to his testimony, which he hath not so hidden from men, but that it is manifested unto them, yea he hath chosen some amongst them to testify the same from him to others. And if it hath pleased him to have such witnesses amongst them, a man may soon see that he hath chosen them in whom he hath caused his image to shine most excellently, and whom he hath made more like to himself, aswell by the revelation of his holy spirit, in all those excellent graces and virtues wherewith he hath endued them, as also by those holy and heavenly works which he effecteth by them, whereby he hath as it were marked them with his seal to give them authority, and to cause them to be acknowledged of all for his faithful witnesses and servants. If then we desire to have certain and true witnesses in any such matter, where can we find them sooner than amongst the patriarchs, Prophets and Apostles, with all those Martyrs and other holy personages, The testimony of the scriptures most firm. whose doctrine and life testify unto us how far they differ from other men? But above all, how highly ought we to esteem the testimony of the very Son of GOD, who is to be preferred before all others? Seeing therefore we have so many faithful witnesses, let us keep us to their testimony, waiting for that perfect light, and more clear and ample knowledge which shall be revealed unto us in that heavenly glory. In the mean time let us consider how we are able to comprehend the infinite nature of the Creator of our soul, seeing we cannot conceive the nature of the soul, which he hath created: and let us reject those dogs and hogs, those Atheists and Epicures, who judge of God and of the soul of man so far forth only as they are able to know and comprehend by their natural sense, whereby they see no further into the soul of man than they do into the souls of beasts, whom themselves resemble. But suppose they had no other testimony of the celestial and divine nature of the soul, but that which it affordeth us daily by those faculties and virtues where with God hath endued it, and the effects it showeth us, yet ought they to learn to judge otherwise. Now to morrow it will be thy part, ASER, to begin the particular handling of these goodly internal senses, whose vessels and instruments we have considered of in this speech: as also thou art to teach us who be the chief ministers of the soul for all her actions. The end of the third days work. THE FOURTH days work. Of the seat of voluntary motion and sense: of the office and nature of the common sense: of imagination and of fantasy, and how light and dangerous fantasy is: of the power which both good and bad spirits have to move it. Chap. 25. ASER. The knowledge of many things is so natural to men, that being borne with them, it is like to a light attending upon the mind, as the sight doth upon the eyes. For the knowledge of numbers and of order, the Principles and beginning of Arts, the knowledge and distinction of things honest and dishonest, proceed from such a light. And when Saint Paul sayeth, that the Gentiles, and all that have not received of God the Law of the two Tables as the people of Israel did, Rom. 2. 15. have notwithstanding a Law written in their hearts that doth accuse or excuse them, no doubt but by this Law he understandeth that natural knowledge which men have both of God, and of good, and evil, which issueth from a higher spring than from the outward senses, and which every one hath for a schoolemistress within himself, even they also that would extinguish wholly this light if they could. For although God hath imprinted many similitudes and testimonies of himself in all creatures, whereby he manifesteth himself unto us, yet should we know nothing more than the brute beasts do, if there were not a light in our minds that causeth us to see and know them, and to conclude that which we do: which light is not in beasts, albeit they have outward senses as well as we. But it is commonly said, that there is nothing in the understanding, which hath not first been in the outward senses: that is to say, that it can know nothing, which is not first discovered and manifested unto it by them. But we must understand that saying of such things as fall under their powers and faculties, which being known and noted by the senses, do awaken and stir up the understanding, which after by that virtue it hath in itself, proceedeth forward, namely, from signs and effects unto causes, from accidents to substances, and from particular things to universalities. But let us consider how. We must first remember the division which before we made of the animal faculty and power, and thereupon we note that the sensitive and motive powers, Of the seat of voluntary sense and motion. whereby the soul, using the means of the sinews and muscles, giveth voluntary sense and motion to all the body, have no special place or seat in the brain, as the other internal senses have, but are dispersed throughout the whole substance thereof. Concerning the chief power and faculty we were told before, how some distinguish between Imagination, fantasy, and the Common sense: and how others comprehend them all in one. But be it that we join or separate them, let us now consider of the nature and places of each of them. Of the Common sense and of his office. The Common sense is so called, because it is the first of all the internal fences of which we are to speak, as also the Prince & Lord of all the external sense, who are his messengers and servants to minister and make relation unto him of things in common. For it receiveth all the images and shapes that are offered and brought unto it by them, yea all the kinds and resemblances of material things, which they have received only from without, as a glass doth: and all this for no other cause, but that they should discern and sever every thing according to it own nature & property, and afterward communicate them to the internal senses. For although all the knowledge that is in the mind of man proceedeth not from the outward senses, as we showed in the beginning of our speech, nevertheless they are created of God, to the end they should send to the understanding the similitudes of things without, and be the messengers of the mind, and witnesses of experience: and also to the end they should awaken and stir up the mind to behold and mark the things that are without it, that by considering of them, it may judge of, and correct the faults. We must then observe, that the external senses have no judgement of that which they outwardly receive but by means of the common sense, unto which they make relation, and then that judgeth: so that they end where that beginneth. In this manner therefore as the Common sense of all the internal senses is next unto the external, so is it the means whereby they communicate one with an other. For afterward it carrieth to the other internal senses whatsoever hath been communicated unto it by the external. Now after this sense hath done his duty, Of Imagination and of Fantasy. Imagination and Fantasy execute their offices, both which are taken by many for one and the same faculty and virtue of the soul, but yet distinguished from the Common sense: others join them both with the Common sense, because these three senses, whether they be distinguished or taken all for one, have their seats, vessels, and instruments in the former part of the brain. Therefore there will be no danger if we use these two names Fantasy and Imagination indifferently. For Fantasy is derived from a Greek word that signifieth as much as Imagination: and it is translated by Cicero into a Latin word, which is as much as Vision. This faculty therefore and virtue of the soul is called Fantasy, because the visions, kinds, and images of such things as it receiveth, are diversly framed therein, according to the forms and shapes that are brought to the Common sense. Dan. 2. 28, 29. Therefore Daniel called the dream of Nabuchadnezzar, the visions of his head, which he had upon his bed, according to the thoughts whereupon he mused and fell on sleep. For although this was a heavenly dream, yet God used therein the internal senses, which he had given to Nabuchadnezzar, unto which he represented the image of those things he would have him to understand and know, as afterward they were expounded unto him by Daniel. Moreover this faculty of the fantasy is sudden, & so far from staidness, The giddiness of Fantasy. that even in the time of sleep it hardly taketh any rest, but is always occupied in dreaming & doting, yea even about those things which never have been, shallbe, or can be. For it stayeth not in that which is showed unto it by the senses that serve it, but taketh what pleaseth it, and addeth thereunto or diminisheth, changeth and rechangeth, mingleth and unmingleth, so that it cutteth asunder and seweth up again as it listeth. So that there is nothing but the fantasy will imagine and counterfeit, if it have any matter and foundation to work upon, without which it can build nothing, as we may judge by that which hath been already showed, namely that man can neither think, imagine, or do any thing else, of which he hath not some beginning and ground in nature and in the works of God, from which after he hath his inventions. But although fantasy can do nothing without this gap and entrance, yet it is a wonder to see the inventions it hath after some occasion is given it, and what new and monstrous things it forgeth and coineth, by sundry imaginations arising of those images and similitudes, from whence it hath the first pattern. So that in truth, Fantasy is dangerous. fantasy is a very dangerous thing. For if it be not guided and bridled by reason, it troubleth and moveth all the sense and understanding, as a tempest doth the sea. For it is easily stirred up not only by the external senses, but also by the complexion and disposition of the body. It is very subject to the motions of good or ill spirits. Hereof it proceedeth that even the spirits both good and bad have great access unto it, to stir it either to good or evil, and that by means unknown to us. For as we have many means to provoke one another's imagination and fantasy, which are not in beasts, neither can be comprehended by them; so these spiritual natures (by reason of the agreement of their nature) have one towards an other, which we neither know nor can comprehend, whereby they have access to move our fantasy divers ways. Wherefore as the Angels have means to represent to our minds the images of good, heavenly, and divine things, both waking and sleeping: so can evil spirits greatly trouble them by divers illusions: the proof whereof we have in many, How sorcerers are deluded by the Devil. whom bad spirits find apt and disposed thereunto, and namely in sorcerers, whose mind they trouble in such sort by sundry strange illusions, that they verily think they have seen, heard, spoken, and done that which the devil representeth to their fantasy, yea such things as neither men nor devils themselves can possibly perform: and yet all that while they stir not out of their bed, or out of some one place. But the devil, having once power over them, doth in such sort print in their fantasy the images of those things he representeth unto them, and which he would have them believe to be true, that they can not think otherwise but that it is so, that they have done such things, and that they were awake when indeed they slept. For as God appeareth to his servants by heavenly visions, both when they sleep & when they wake, and printeth in their minds the images of those things which it pleaseth him to reveal unto them: so the devil, who endeavoureth to counterfeit all the works of God to deceive men, hath his devilish illusions for his visions, The devil counterfeiteth the works of God. whereby he moveth and troubleth the fantasy and minds of those, over whom he reigneth through their infidelity and wickedness. Therefore it is very needful, that men should recommend themselves to God, to the end these evil spirits may have no such power over them, and that their judgements may be sound to discern the images of those things, which he representeth to their minds, from all Diabolical illusions. And surely no marvel if wicked spirits so oftentimes deceive men, when as jugglers have so many ways to abuse them, showing them such strange sights, that if they were not wrought by those kind of men, a great many would take them for miracles. Yea although they be done after this manner, yet we wonder thereat, being hardly able by the sharpness of our wits to attain to the knowledge thereof, so that many are persuaded that such things cannot be done without the power of the devil. But let us return to our matter. Of the force of imagination. This imaginative power of the soul, hath moreover such virtue, that oftentimes the imagination printeth in the body, the images of those things which it doth vehemently think of and apprehend, the experience whereof is very evident, especially in the long and imaginations of women with child. Many times also we see some that can hardly go over a bridge without falling, by reason of the apprehension of the danger, which they have conceived in their fantasy and imagination. But which is yet more strange, The strong fancy of women with child. it falleth out oftentimes, that the fancies and imaginations of great bellied women are so vehement and violent, that upon the bodies of the children they go withal, they print the images and shapes of those things upon which they have fixed their fancies, and unto which by reason of their fancy, they are most affectionated. We see examples hereof a great many continually. Neither is it altogether without reason which we use commonly to say, that fancy breeds the fact which it imagineth. For we see many fall into those mishaps and inconveniences, which they imprint in their fantasy and imagination. We may also observe here, how we are provoked to yawn and gape when we see others do so, and driven into a desire of many things of which we should not have dreamt, unless we had been incited thereunto by the example of others, or by some object presented to our senses, and provoking us thereunto. Yea, Imagination prevaileth much in beasts. this imaginative virtue can do much in beasts, as among other things we may see it in this, that they desire rather to make water in a puddle, or in a river, or in some other water, or upon a dunghill or in a stable, then elsewhere. For the things that are offered to their senses soon move their fantasy and imagination, which afterward stirreth them up, either in respect of the agreement that is betwixt those things, namely, water and urine, or because of their custom to do such a thing in such a place, which putteth them in mind and helpeth them to do it more readily, by reason of the imaginative virtue that is in them. Now if imagination hath such virtue in beasts, we may judge also what it is able to do in the mind of man, which is a great deal more quick and ready. Good counsel for every one. Therefore we ought to eschew all occasions of evil, that may be presented to our senses, to stir up our imagination and fantasy to wicked and dishonest things. For one only wicked look, or one dishonest speech, is sufficient to trouble our minds with divers imaginations and fantasies. Which as it is well known to the devil, so knoweth he also how to give occasion, and to offer the means of stirring all the stuff in our fancies. But we keep such bad watch in this respect, that in stead of eschewing occasions of evil, we seek after them, and where we should shut the door against evil, we set it wide open, that it may enter more easily into us. Wherein we follow not the example of the Prophet, who prayed unto the Lord, saying, Psal. 119. 37. Turn away mine eyes that they behold no vanity: but we rather take a contrary course to whet ourselves forward to all beastliness. Seeing therefore Imagination and Fantasy have so little hold of themselves, we have need of an other faculty and virtue above that, to be able to judge of things imagined and perceived by sense (of which we have hitherto spoken) and that is reason, the discourse where of I reserre to thee, AMANA, as also of memory, which is the fift and last internal sense of the soul. Of Reason and Memory, and of their seat, nature, and office: of the agreement which all the senses both external and internal have one with another, and of their virtues. Chap. 26. AMANA. They that have curiously searched into the nature of beasts, have found in them, especially in such as were most perfect, as many external and internal senses as are in man: yea they perceived, that their brain and all the parts thereof, did not differ much from that of men, whether we respect the substance or the fashion. But all these excellent gifts of nature reach no farther in them, Beasts search only after corporal things belonging to this life. then to the uses of this present life, and the necessities thereof. For they have no reason given them to inquire after that which is good, to the end their will might follow and embrace the same. Moreover their Good, consisteth only in corporal things belonging to the body, which they easily know and discern, as standing in need of no other reason or understanding to make enquiry after it, then of that bare knowledge and natural inclination that is given them. But the Good that belongeth to man, is hidden in the soul and spirit. For this cause he must of necessity inquire after it, that he may come to the knowledge thereof, lest he choose evil in stead of good, for want of knowledge of his proper and true Good, and so be deceived by the appearance of a false Good, which is not so in truth, but in opinion only and by error: whereby the greatest part of men are commonly beguiled, preferring the supposed Goods of the body, before the true goods of the soul, and temporal things before eternal. Therefore as our eyes stand in need of light to keep us, and to cause us to see in darkness, so our soul and spirit hath need of reason to guide it in the midst of error and ignorance, that it may discern truth from lying, the true Good from the false, and that which is profitable from the contrary. This faculty and virtue of the soul, so necessary in man, and which is able to judge of things imagined and perceived by the other senses, (of which we have spoken before) to know whether they be good or bad, Of the seat of reason and of his office. and what is to be embraced or eschewed, is called, the judging or discoursing faculty, namely, Reason, which is the principal part and virtue of the soul, and beareth rule among all the other senses. For this cause he hath his seat by good right assigned him in the midst of the brain, as in the highest and safest fortress of the whole frame of man, to reign amidst all the other senses, as Prince and Lord over them all. For it is he that discourseth and judgeth of truth from falsehood, that knoweth the agreement and disagreement of things, that joineth together whatsoever is to be joined, and separateth that which ought to be separated, that distinguiseth things which follow, or are contrary each to other, by comparing one thing with another, by considering all circumstances, by referring every thing whither it ought to be referred. It is requisite therefore, that he should keep his own place, and not be shuffled up and confounded with imagination and fantasy, Reason is the judge of Fancy. of which he is the judge to approve or condemn that which is good or evil, as also to correct, to stay, and to keep them in awe. For if reason intermeddle and mingle itself with them, it will be so troubled, that it will not be able to judge as it ought of those things, which they present and bring unto it, but will be so carried away, as if it were deposed and thrust out of it own place, and as if maids should rule their Mistress, and take place before her. The like also happeneth unto it, when it is carried away with the affections, which it ought to rule, moderate, and govern. But if it be upright and sound, after it hath well considered and debated of the whole matter brought and laid before it by the former senses, it giveth sentence as judge, and judgeth finally without appeal. For there is no other judgement after that. Hereof it is, that it hath a judicial seat in the midst, wherein being placed it heareth suits and causes. Of Memory and of his office. Besides, it hath near unto it Memory, which is in place of a Notary and Secretary, and as it were a register book, in which is entered whatsoever is ordained and decreed by reason. For as we have need of such a judge as reason is, to conclude and determine finally in the mind, whatsoever may be called into question and doubted of, so it is requisite, that the conclusion and definitive sentence should be registered in Memory, as it were in a roll or book of account, that it may always be ready and found when need requireth. For what good should we get by that, which imagination, fantasy, and reason conceive and gather together, if it should all vanish away presently through forgetfulness, and no more memory thereof should remain in man, then if nothing at all had been done? Dan. 2. The like would daily happen to us, that befell Nabuchadnezzar, when God revealed unto him by dream in the vision of an Image, what should become of his Monarchy and Empire, and of those that followed him. For he remembered well, as himself testifieth, that he had dreamt a dream, whereupon his spirit was troubled, whilst he laboured to understand it: but he was so far from knowing the signification of his dream, that he remembered not what he had dreamt and seen therein. Where we see, that his imagination and fantasy were so moved by the image and vision represented unto them in this dream, that they imprinted in his memory how they had seen a vision, and that it was very strange and wonderful. Yea reason itself judged, that the vision and image was of another nature, than those that are commonly in the imagination or fantasy, or those which they coin themselves in sleeping and dreaming, and that it had some divine signification. And this did reason imprint in the King's memory, who remembered all these things generally, but when he began to inquire of the matter more specially and particularly, he could not call to mind the kind and manner of his dream, but confessed that the thing was gone from him. Afterward, having heard and understood Daniel he knew that he spoke a truth, and then remembered what he had dreamt and was gone from him, because it was not well imprinted in his memory, but had passed over lightly by it. Hear than we see how necessary this secretary and register, whom we call Memory, is for the understanding and spirit, not only to mark lightly such things as pass by it, but also to note and engrave them, Of the seat of memory. as it were in tables or pillars of stone or brass. Therefore hath God assigned his seat and lodging in the hindermost part of the brain, to the end that, after such things as are to be committed unto it, have passed by all the other senses, they should be committed to it to keep, as to their secretary. And for this cause that part of the brain is less moist, and most solid and firm, for two manifest and apparent reasons. First, because it is the fountain of the marrow in the back: bone, of which those sinews are derived that give the strongest motions to all the members of the body. Therefore also it was requisite, that they should be of a more firm and solid matter then the rest that are taken from the substance of other parts of the brain, which are not to sustain so great stress. Secondly, forasmuch as the memory is as it were the Register and Chancery Court of all the other senses, the images of all things brought and committed unto it by them, are to be imprinted therein, as the image and sign of a ring or seal is imprinted and set in the wax that is sealed. Therefore it is needful that the matter of the instrument of Memory should be so well tempered, Causes of good and bad memories. that it be neither too soft nor too hard. For if it be too soft, the images will be soon engraven, but they will not stay there any long time, as they that will be quickly blotted out. Contrariwise, if it be over hard, it will be a harder matter to imprint them therein. But when it is well tempered, it receiveth the images easily, and keepeth them well. For the Memory hath two duties as well as the hand, namely, to receive and to hold fast. Therefore they that are of a moist brain receive more easily into their memories that which is offered unto them, and they that have a dry brain, retain and keep better in memory. But following that which we have hitherto spoken of all the internal senses, Of the agreement between all the senses. we are now to observe and note this, that the knowledge of things which we have by the outward senses, is as if we beheld the shadows of them: and that knowledge which we have by the common sense, by Imagination and Fantasy, is as if we did look upon the images, which represent unto us those things whereof they are images morelively and clearly then their shadows can do. And the knowledge we have by understanding, of which faculty we will entreat hereafter, is as if we viewed, not only the shadows or images of things, but also their very bodies, which is more. And that knowledge which we have by reason is as if, besides all this, we saw their effects and virtues. Therefore there is as much difference between the knowledge that a man may have by every one of these faculties and powers, as there is betwixt the shadow, and image, and body, and effects or virtues of one and the same thing, to the end that the nature thereof may be thoroughly known. For all these senses and virtues of man's mind agree so well together, that as the outward senses serve the common sense, so the common sense serveth Imagination, and imagination fantasy, & fantasy understanding and consideration, & consideration recordation, & recordation conference, and conference reason, and lastly memory serveth them all, as they also serve memory. Therefore it is not without the great wisdom & providence of God, that the seat & shop thereof is in the hindermost part of the head, because it must look to the things that are past. The memory is a spiritual eye. So that we have in that part as it were a spiritual eye, which is much more excellent and profitable, then if we had bodily eyes there, as we have before, or else a face before and an other behind, as the Poets feigned that janus had. Thus we may learn by our speech what reason is, and the discourse thereof, and how it causeth the nature of man to approach in some sort to that nature which is divine and heavenly, making man far to excel all other nature in the world. For it goeth from things known, Of the effects of Reason. to them that are unknown, and descendeth from generals to specials, and from them to particulars, and mounteth aloft again by the same steps from one to another, and compareth one with another. For after that Imagination hath received the images and impressions of things offered unto it by the outward senses, the consideration of Reason followeth, which inquireth of all that may be in the mind, of the plenty or want that is there, and causeth it to return to itself, as if it did behold and consider itself, to take knowledge what it hath, or what it hath not, how much it hath, and of what quality and nature it is. After this, reason draweth out and concludeth invisible things of visible, of corporal things it concludeth things without bodies, and secret things of plain and evident matters, and generals of particulars: than it referreth all this to the understanding, which is the chief virtue and power of the soul, and that which comprehendeth all the faculties thereof, as we will discourse in place convenient, yea, that which finally resteth in the contemplation of the spirit, Of understanding and contemplation. which is the end of all enquiry of truth, and as it were a settled and assured view of all those things that have been culled out by reason, and received and approved by judgement. Hereof it is that we say, A double discourse of Reason in man. there is a double discourse of Reason in man, whereof the one consisteth in speculation, having Truth for the scope and end thereof, and goeth no farther after it hath found the truth. The other consisteth in practice, and hath Good for his end, which after it hath found, it stayeth not there, but goeth on to Will, which is an other power of the soul of great virtue, as we will declare hereafter, and is given of God to man, that he should love, desire, and follow that which is good, and hate, eschew, and turn from evil. But these things shallbe handled more at large in the sequel of our speeches. Now to resume and finish this present matter, as we learn that man by the discourse of reason that is in him, lifteth up himself above the outward senses, yea above Imagination and fantasy, and knoweth well that he is enclosed within the body as in a prison, which nevertheless can not altogether hinder him from understanding and contemplating the things he seethe not: so also he useth the help of Memory to keep and retain in his mind whatsoever he hath known by any of the senses, either external or internal. Therefore is the Memory compared to a Picture. Memory compared to a picture. For as a Picture by the sight of the eyes giveth the knowledge of that which is painted therein, so is it with Memory, by the sight of the mind endued with understanding and knowledge: for it doth not only look upon things simply as beasts do, but considereth of them, and diligently inquireth into them, and having found them, it placeth them in the Memory, and there keepeth them. And the better to have them in memory, it often thinketh and meditateth of those things, it turneth and tosseth them to and fro, that they may be the better imprinted therein. What remembrance is. For this cause some Philosopher's attribute unto man beside memory both recordation and remembrance, which is one recordation upon another, whereby we call to mind that which was slipped out of it. For it cometh to pass oftentimes, that that which before we have seen, heard, and known, and even kept a while in our memory, is escaped us and so forgotten, that we think of it no more than if we had never understood or known it, neither should we ever remember it, unless some body did put us in mind of it, or some evident token made us to think of it, Some things also there are, which albeit they are not clean gone from us, but are somewhat better registered in our memory, yet we cannot readily remember them and bring them forth, without great and long inquiry. Therefore must the mind turn over all the leaves of his Book or Register of Memory, or at leastwise a great part thereof to find them out, as if a Chancellor or Secretary should search all his Papers and Registers, The mind compared to the keeper of Rolls. and all his Rolls of Chancery, until he had found that which he sought for. And we see among ourselves, what notes and observations we use, that they might be as it were a memorial book unto our memories. You see then why some have attributed to man both recordation and remembrahce, thereby to put a difference between them, and bare memory without any other consideration, which they say is in beasts, who forgetting presently what they perceived by their senses, when they see those things again, that in some sort putteth them in mind thereof, than they call them to mind as if they had known them before. But now that we understand the nature, office, order, and seats of the internal senses of the soul, that all may be more easily perceived, I think we ought to show by some familiar examples, how a man may know, that these internal senses are so distinguished, disposed, and ordained, and that they have their seats and instruments in the brain in such sort as we have already spoken. Let us then hear ARAM discourse to this purpose. That the internal senses are so distinguished, that some of them may be troubled and hindered, and the rest be safe and whole, according as their places and instruments assigned unto them in the body are sound or perished: and of those that are possessed with devils. Chap. 27. ARAM. Howsoever it pleased God to enrich man with heavenly gifts and graces above all visible creatures, yet foreseeing the future pride of mankind, he always and in all things gave him great matter of humility and modesty, to the end that they which know how to profit thereby, should never forget the graces received from the goodness of their Creator, and so never become ungrateful towards him. And truly we ought to be very careful to keep ourselves from pride and vain boasting of the senses of our mind and spirit, which God hath given us, how ingenious, excellent, and divine soever they be: yea, rather humbling ourselves before his Majesty, we are to yield him continual thanks, and pray that it would please him to keep them always sound and safe, and to augment his gifts and graces in our minds. For he showeth us by experience every day, that he can trouble our minds with a small matter, yea the minds of those that are most witty, prudent, wise, and skilful, and the most divine spirits that can be found amongst men. How many do we see daily, yea many times of those that are admired of all for their singular wit, A good admonition to humble us. great prudence, knowledge, wisdom, virtue, credit, and authority, that lose the use of their senses and understanding, insomuch that they do not only grow foolish, as if they were become little children again, but also have less direction & government in them, than the poor beasts have? And how many do we see, that become frenzy & mad, behaving themselves as it were brute and savage beasts, and continue in that estate unto the death? The consideration of these things will cause us to understand better that which we have heard of the distinction, disposition, order, and seats of the internal senses of the soul, and of their vessels and instruments. We have then daily great testimonies and very evident signs here of in frantic and bedleme persons, in such as are oppressed with melancholy, in furious folks, and in all those that are beside themselves. For there are sundry sorts of them, some being troubled but in one part of the mind only, divers kinds of mad folks. having the other parts sound: some more troubled than the former, and othersome that have nothing sound and untouched. Hereof it is that we see some, whose imagination and fantasy only are out of frame, insomuch that they judge a thing to be that which it is not. Therefore they conceive strange opinions, which they imprint so deep in their brain, The imagination troubled. that they are not easily rooted out again. Some imagine and believe that they have horns: others that they have a serpent, or some other beast in their bodies: others that they are become water pots or glasses, and thereupon are afraid lest some body should justle against them, and break them in pieces. There have been some that were so verily persuaded in their fancy, that they were dead, that they could never after be brought to eat or drink any thing but died in that opinion. And yet all these did understand very well and conceive what was said unto them, and remembered it as well afterward. Whereby it appeareth, that they have reason and memory more sound than imagination and fancy, as Galen and other Physicians mention many examples of such, and ourselves do often see some like to those of whom I speak now. There are others also, Reason troubled. that have their imagination, fancy, yea and their memory also sound, but their reason is so troubled, that they can not understand nor conceive that which is told them, nor make any discourse themselves, neither examine or conclude any thing by reason. Galen allegeth an example of one, who after he had cast down out of a window certain glasses and viols, with other vessels of brittle matter, threw down a little child, which was slain. This man knew well enough that he held in his hand glasses and other vessels of such matter, and that the child he threw down was a child, and he remembered well what he had seen, heard, and done: but he had not his wits so advised nor his reason so stayed, as to discourse, consider, and judge thus with himself, that be could not cast those vessels down but he must break them, considering the matter whereof they were made, nor the child, but he must kill it. I omit many other examples I could allege to this purpose, which many skilful Physicians speak of in their books, because I mean not to touch this matter but as it were by the way. Concerning them that lose their memory, The memory lost. and yet keep the other parts sound, we have many examples of them. For there have been plagues sometimes, whereby many have lost their memories in such sort, that they clean forgot whatsoever they knew before, yea their own names, their parents and their friends. And the disease called the Lethargy bringeth with it forgetfulness and want of memory, as the name itself giveth us to understand in the Greek tongue, from whence it is taken. Therefore we see how the internal senses of the soul may be perished severally one without an other: whereupon we may well conclude, that as they may be all sound together, so they may all be perished at one and the same time. Example hereof is daily seen in many that are frenzy and mad, having all their senses troubled, which sometimes they had sound and perfect. Yea there are some that behave themselves like dogs and wolves as physicians report, because they think they are transformed into those kind of beasts, by reason of the violence of Melancholy, and of that malady, which is thereupon named by the Grecians Cynanthropie and lycanthropy. It pleased God to punish Nabuchadnezzar with this kind of chastisement, Dan. 4. to beat down his glory and pride, when his wits were taken from him, in so much that he did not think himself to be a man any more but a beast, and so indeed lived in the fields like a wild beast. Now therefore we may know by the sequel of our speech, and by the examples which we have alleged, how the internal senses are distinguished one from an other in such sort that every one hath his office apart, as the members that are in a man's body. And if any desire to know more particularly in what part and place of the brain every particular sense hath his lodging and seat for to exercise his office in, How a man may ●●dge of the ●eats of the senses. we may judge hereof somewhat by experience, which teacheth us, that they who have received some blow, or are vexed by sickness about the former ventricles of the brain, have then common sense, their imagination and fantasy perished, when the instruments about those parts either suffer or have suffered violence. If the same happen to the middle ventricle, the like is seen in the defect of reason: if to the hindermost ventricle, the memory faileth, as it hath befallen many upon the receipt of a blow in that place: yea, which is more than that, experience doth not only show this when blows and diseases light upon the head and brain, but it appeareth also in the composition and making of all that part of the body. For according as the head shall be either well or ill framed and proportioned either before, in the midst, or in the hinder part thereof, or in all three together, so shall a man find greater excellency, moderation, or defect, in the internal senses, which exercise their offices in the head, as well particularly as generally. Therefore it is not without reason said in our common speech of him that hath a good spirit, sense, and judgement, that his head is well made: and contrariwise, that his head is ill made that wanteth these things. For whatsoever the inhabitant or workman is that laboureth, the lodging in which he dwelleth, or the tools and instruments which he useth, are of great moment to further or hinder him in his work. But now that we are in hand with frenetike persons, and have said before, that good and ill spirits have great means, and such as we can not comprehend, whereby they move the imagination and fantasy of men, Of such as are possessed with devils. it shall not be altogether fruitless, if we speak somewhat of them that are possessed with spirits. For there are some who think not, that the devils in their very substance enter into the bodies or souls, hearts or minds of men. I speak not here of such as think there is neither God, nor Angels, nor devils, but even of them that believe all these things: who nevertheless think, that evil spirits trouble the hearts and minds of men only by provocations, temptations, and illusions. Others there are, that refer all the madness of Lunatic folks to natural causes, as if they proceeded either from melancholic or choleric humours or some such like causes, as frenziness, madness, and fury, or some such diseases whereby men are carried beside themselves. True it is, and cannot be denied, that many are thought to be possessed with devils, when in deed they are nothing so. For there are some counterfeit cranks, as many have been taken with the manner, who upon some occasion have by mere knavery feigned themselves such. And some also there are that be but melancholy mad, and carried away by some disease of the brain: but because their melancholy and fury is very violent and strange, ignorant people suppose they are possessed with some spirit. Notwithstanding we may not doubt, but that evil spirits, desirous to hurt men both in their goods, bodies, and souls, use all the means and occasions they can possibly invent and find out, to execute their malice, when it pleaseth God to give them leave. The power of evil spirits. For they can drive forward and move the hearts and minds of men, and set them in such a fury, that even their reason and judgement will be wholly confounded and as it were clean extinguished. Hereupon it cometh, that many being carried headlong with such madness, tear, and kill themselves, or their own wives, children, or others, whereof we may daily see many examples. Nevertheless we say not, that the natural light which God hath given them is wholly put out in them, much less in those that are not so far gone: but the Devil doth stir them forward with such violence, that they are as it were taken perforce from themselves, when they are forsaken of God. Which examples ought to admonish us to call upon God incessantly, that he would govern us by his son jesus Christ, who is come to destroy the works of the Devil, that so the light of reason and of judgement may not be darkened or put out in us, and that our hearts be not so possessed and pushed on by Satan, that we rush ourselves through a devilish fury against the will of God. And this did our Saviour teach us to demand of him when he said, Matth. 26. 4●. and 6. 13. Pray that ye enter not into tentation: and when he taught us to say, Lead us not into tentation, but deliver us from evil, For if evil spirits durst set upon those that were sound both in body and soul, after that manner which I have spoken of, according to that power that was given them, we may not think that they spare such as are sick: especially those that are already troubled in brain and beside themselves. For the Devil, as our mortal enemy, continually watcheth for those occasions that are fittest, and most for his advantage to hurt us withal. Therefore he intrudeth himself amidst our diseases and miseries, chiefly when there is weakness of brain joined therewith, using against us those weapons, which he findeth in our own nature, as also those which his own malice and rage ministereth unto him, whereof we have a very profitable example in the history of job. He declareth plainly by his speech, that if the fear of God had not kept him back, he had rather have strangled himself, then lived in that miserable estate wherein he was. And no doubt, if God had not held a strong hand over his servant job, job 7. 15. and bridled the rage and evil will of Satan that persecuted him, the Devil had had great power over this good man, to have persuaded him to make away himself desperately, as Achitophel and judas did. Now if the Devil prevailed so far with job, by that leave which God gave him to afflict and trouble him, we may well think what he can do with the wicked and reprobate, whom GOD wholly abandoneth and giveth over unto him. We have a very plain example in Saul, of whom it is written, that the spirit of the Lord went from him, 1. Sam. 16. 14, 15. & 314. and that he was given over of the Lord to an evil spirit, which troubled and vexed him, and that in the end he fell into such desperation, that he utterly forsook God and slew himself. We may know also by that which the holy Evangelists have written of such as were possessed, and were healed by jesus Christ and by his Apostles, what power evil spirits have over them, whilst God suffered them to execute their rage and fury. A man may easily judge, that such persons are not only out of their wits through sickness, but that evil spirits possess them. For he so troubleth their mind and spirit, that they know 〈◊〉 more what they do, than the veriest bedlams that can be. And although he horribly vexeth their bodies, yet they feel not his torments, or if they do feel them, yet they cannot abstain from vexing themselves. So that it is easily known, that the devil is in them, and that it proceedeth not only of a simple frenzy, or melancholy humour, seeing some of them have done such things as could not possibly be performed by the power of man, whereof some of those are witnesses, whom the holy scripture rehearseth unto us. Wherefore it is out of all question, that evil spirits have wrought both in them and by them. Therefore we have good occasion offered unto us by all that hath been hitherto spoken, to humble ourselves before God, and to pray unto him continually, as we said in the beginning of our speech. For being as we are, we ought still to praise God, who distributeth his graces as it pleaseth him, and that by a most exquisite kind of justice. Good instructions for all men. And when we see those that are infirm and beside themselves, some for a certain time, and by fits, others continually and after divers manners, let us not mock or despise them, but rather have pity and compassion over them, pray to God in their behalf, and secure them as much as we can, acknowledging the grace of God towards us in keeping us from such inconveniences, and beseeching him to preserve and keep us continually. For whatsoever befalleth others, should as it were hang before our eyes, as often as it pleaseth him to beat them with such scourges, which we ourselves have no less deserved than they that are beaten, yea oftentimes a great deal more. The Lord striketh whom it pleaseth him, that by them others might take instruction. Therefore if we cannot profit by such teaching, nor learn at other men's cost to fear and honour him, to call upon him and to give him thanks, it is to be feared that he will send us as much, that so we may learn at our own charges. Yea and then also he is very gracious unto us, if he suffer us to have our understandings, to know how to profit by his rods and chastisements, and give us not wholly over into the hands of Satan our Adversary. But enough of this matter. And now that we have seen the nature and office of the internal senses of the soul, with their seats and instruments, the sequel of our speech requireth (as I think) that we should entreat of understanding and will, which are two faculties and virtues in the highest and most principal part and power of the soul of man, and in regard of which it is properly called by the name of a reasonable soul and life: as we shall presently learn of ACHITOB. Of the reasonable soul and life, and of virtue: of the understanding and will, that are in the soul, and of their dignity and excellency. Chap. 28. ACHITOB. Although beasts without any judgement and reason follow after that which they conceive to be agreeable to their nature, and eschew the contrary, according as their natural inclination driveth them thereunto: yet they pass not those bounds of nature which God hath set them, nor violate the laws thereof. Whereby we see, that through a secret sense of nature, they draw always towards God their Creator, in that their nature bendeth still towards that which God hath appointed to be the chief Good, unto which they can attain. And no doubt but God hath given them such inclinations to be as it were rules to direct them to that which is their proper and natural Good, which consisteth only in corporal things belonging to their bodies. Now if he be thus careful for beasts, we may not think that he hath deprived Man of such a benefit, but that he hath also given him his inclination to lead him to his proper Good, and to the truth which in respect thereof is necessary for him. For what likelihood is there, that such a workman as God is, would create Man, the most excellent creature under heaven, in worse estate not only than beasts, but also then all other bodily creatures, which are nothing in comparison of the excellency which is in him, who notwithstanding following their natural disposition, Psal. 148. 8. Praise GOD and fulfil his word, as the Psalmist saith. As therefore God hath ordained and prepared a far greater Good for men then for beasts, and hath laid up the same in his soul and spirit, so hath he given them the means to inquire and find it out. But the difficulty that is in finding it out, proceedeth through their own fault. For the darkness of ignorance and error, which sin hath brought into their minds, is that which hindereth them, & which had not taken hold of them, if mankind had continued in the perfection of his first nature. Nevertheless, what defect soever there be, yet we see, that in the mind of man there shineth always this natural light that is given unto him above that which beasts have, I mean Reason, which serveth to guide the soul and spirit amidst the darkness of error and ignorance, to the end they may be able to discern truth from falsehood, and the true Good from the false, as we see the light serveth the eyes to keep us, and to cause us to see in darkness. Therefore we said before, that there was a double discourse of reason in man; whereof the one is Theorical and Speculative, Of contemplation and action. which hath Truth for his end, and having found it goeth no farther. The other is Practical, having Good for his end, which being found it stayeth not there, but passeth forward to the Will, which God hath joined unto it, to the end it should love, desire and follow after the Good, and contrariwise hate eschew and turn away from evil. Therefore when the question ariseth of contemplation, reason hath Truth for her utmost bounds, and when she is to come into action, she draweth towards Good, and having conferred together that which is true and good, she pronounceth judgement. So that reason considereth of things with great deliberation, and being sometimes in doubt which way to take, she stayeth and returneth as it were to herself, and maketh many discourses before she judge and conclude. But sin hath so troubled our spirit, that these natural rules, which should evermore cause us to incline to that which is right and good, are greatly depraved and corrupted. Nevertheless there remaineth in us a small remnant of that great Good, which testifieth sufficiently unto us what loss and damage we received by our fall. Therefore both the internal and external senses serve us not only for the good of the body, and for this life as they do to beasts: but also for the good of the soul, and help us to lift up the mind higher, to seek for a better life, and for a greater Good, then can be found among all the creatures, The senses of ●●●serue for the good of his soul. and in which alone the mind findeth true felicity, agreeable to such a nature as itself is. Hereof it cometh, that it cannot content itself with that wherewith beasts are contented, nor stay there where they stay. For after the spirit is somewhat settled upon that knowledge, which it hath by his imagination and fantasy, he lifteth up himself higher by the means of reason, namely to the understanding of spiritual and divine things. For he knoweth well, that because he is as it were shut up in an obscure prison, and compassed about with darkness, he is hindered from attaining to the understanding and knowledge of many things whereof he is ignorant, and can neither see nor know that which he would so nearly, clearly, and perfectly as if he were at greater liberty, nor use that natural vigour that he hath, being in this prison of the body. In this sort doth man consider of himself and of his nature; and from that knowledge which he hath of the highest and most excellent things in nature, there springeth in him a love towards them, insomuch that the spirit ascendeth up and attaineth unto God, who is the author and Creator of all. For this cause there ariseth contention betwixt reason and fantasy. Contention betwixt the spirit and fantasy. For imagination and fantasy, being nearer to the corporal senses, draw the soul to those things that are bodily: but reason and the spirit prick it forward, and cause it to lift up itself to more excellent things. For the spirit (which the Philosophers express by Understanding) mounteth up unto those things that cannot be known nor comprehended of imagination and fantasy, nor of any other sense. Moreover it keepeth fantasy bridled▪ and bringeth it into the right way, which otherwise wandereth far wide, and entereth into many turnings and windings. Neither doth the spirit wholly yield unto every present profit, or decline the contrary, but calleth things past to remembrance, conjectureth and forseeth things to come, and searcheth out what is true and what false to give judgement thereafter, and then to follow after or to eschew that which ought to be followed or fled from. Thus you see what the reasonable soul bringeth to men, which is not in beasts nor in their soul. Besides, from this vigour and nature of the spirit, speech proceedeth, which being his messenger, is wanting unto beasts, because they are void of reason and understanding, in regard whereof speech is given, as we have already heard. Therefore we understand by the reasonable soul and life, such a soul and life as hath counsel, What is meant by the reasonable soul. judgement and reason, and which was created to this end, that knowing God her Creator, and loving him in respect thereof, she might honour and serve him, and finally by degrees attain to immortal life and happiness, which is appointed for her end. For as nothing is more excellent than reason, whereof God hath made man partaker, so there is nothing more beseeming reason then to know, love, and honour God, seeing there is nothing greater, more excellent, or that may be compared unto him. Therefore as man differeth from brute beasts in respect of reason, wherewith God hath endued him, so he differeth from them in that he is capable of religion, created and borne thereto, which consisteth in the things already touched. But beasts are not capable of any kind of religion, being altogether void thereof: as on the other side, there is no man but he hath some sense of it. Proof that the soul of beasts is mortal, but of men immortal. Whereby we may gather a good argument, that beasts are not only void of reason, but also that their souls are mortal, and the souls of men immortal. For the fountain and fruit of the religion and service of God, consisteth not in this mortal life, and therefore it must needs be in some other that followeth. And for this cause Reason, which is so great and excellent a gift of God in man, is not bestowed upon us for things of so small price and so transitory as these are, which we use and enjoy in this life, and in which it is wholly busied: much less for those whereby the life of beasts is preserved, but in regard of these things which I have now declared. Therefore as God hath not given such a life to stones as he hath given to trees and plants, What is in plants above stones, and in beasts above plants, & in men above beasts. nor yet sense, imagination and fantasy to trees and plants, as he hath done to beasts: so he hath not granted reason to beasts, as he hath to men, and that not without just cause. For as it is enough for stones in regard of the perfection of their nature, to be heavy and such as they are, and sufficient likewise for trees and plants to have a Vegetative soul, seeing they want not that which beasts have more than they: so beasts stand not in need of that which men have above them. For it sufficeth for the preservation and defence of their life and being, that they have some kind of cogitation joined with imagination and fantasy: although they want reason, which is not necessary for them as it is for men, for the causes already specified: and chief because they were not created by means of the knowledge of God and of true religion to come to a better life, than their brutish life is. The end of m●n● being. Therefore as man is created, to the end that the light of the knowledge of God might shine in him, and that God might communicate with him his wisdom and goodness, so he would that the soul of man should be an evident testimony of himself. For this cause it was said in his creation, that God made man after his own image and likeness, as we have already heard. Seeing then there are in the reasonable soul so clear and excellent testimonies of God, and that by it especially the difference appeareth between man & beasts, as also in the divers governments of their lives, it behoveth us to con●ider thereof very diligently. And albeit this glass of God cannot be so evidently seen, as those that are made of steel, or of glass and lead by the hand of man, to represent the image of our bodies, nevertheless the actions and works of the soul do plainly show, that there is such a power and virtue in us, which God hath given us more to use for our benefit, then to know it, and that for the causes already touched by us. Only God knoweth the soul perfectly. For the true and perfect knowledge thereof belongeth to God only, who being above it, hath created and given it, and will cause us to know it better when we shallbe in that eternal light, in which we shall know those things that are now hidden from us. In the mean time let us in this life consider of and distinguish the actions and works of the soul, whereby we are severed from beasts, and which being very evident testimonies of God in us, govern the life of man, and bring forth all honest sciences and arts. We have spoken already of the powers and virtues of the soul which by the use of corporal instruments labour and manifest themselves: but it appeareth evidently, that there is in man another higher power, because we have many actions and do many works, What actions men do, which beasts cannot. which beasts cannot perform nor imitate. For man hath the knowledge of numbers and can reckon, he understandeth not only particular things, but also general and universal things, he discourseth, that is, gathereth and concludeth one thing of another, and that very far, he inventeth arts and disposeth them, he judgeth of his own reasons and discourses, and marking his own faults, he correcteth them, he changeth his intents and purposes, he discerneth virtues from vices, & honest things from those that are dishonest: finally he deliberateth by a long discourse of reason. As for beasts they have not these things common with us, as they have the use of the senses, as of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and other such like things, wherein they oftentimes excel us in many respects. For many of them have these senses more sharp than we have. And although they have some imagination, fantasy and apprehension of things offered to their bodily senses, yet that holdeth but for the present, and in the place or field where the things are offered unto them. How beasts discourse. The like may be said of those discourses of reason, which many think are in the perfectest of them. For they have some kind of discourse, in that they can pass from one thing to another. But all their judgements are but of particular things, neither do they ascend higher. In like manner, they know not things absent, nor pass from them to others, whether it be from things absent to them that are present, or from present things to those that are absent. For they take or leave incontinently those present and particular things which they know, and make a stop there without any further discourse. So that this intellectual and reasonable power is proper to man only, and is the highest and most sovereign virtue of the soul of man. And although the internal senses are serviceable unto it, as they are served of the external senses, nevertheless it hath proper actions, virtues and motions, which it can and doth exercise without the help of bodily instruments, when it is separated from the body. And even while it is in the body, it is sometime ravished, as if it were altogether out of it, as it hath often fallen out to holy men, Ezech. 37. 1. who have been ravished in spirit in the contemplation of celestial and divine things, and that by the revelation of the spirit of God: Act. 10. 3, 10, 11. 2. cor. 12. 2, 3. insomuch that Saint Paul testifieth of himself, that He was taken up into the third heaven and into Paradise, not knowing whether he were in the body or out of the body, but GOD he knew. We will consider therefore in this chief and most sovereign part of the soul, two faculties and virtues, namely the Understanding and the Will. Of the Understanding and of Will. For it being so that man is created to attain to that sovereign and eternal Good, which God hath propounded unto him, therefore hath GOD given him the power and virtue to wish for that Good, to the end he might desire to apply and join himself unto it. This power and virtue is called Will. But the soul cannot have this appetite and desire, if first it understand or know not that Good which it ought to desire and follow after. For this cause hath God given unto it another power and virtue, which we call Understanding. And forasmuch as our spirit stayeth not always in one thought, but discourseth and goeth from one matter to another, it had need of a receptacle and storehouse, wherein it may lay up the first thoughts when others come, as if it placed them in a treasury, that they should not be lost, but might be found out, and called forth when need should require. The memory compared to the rolls of Chancery. But we learned by our former speech, that this office appertaineth to memory, which is as it were the Rolls of a Chancery court, in which the seals of images framed by the thought, are imprinted, and upon which the understanding doth look as often as it pleaseth. And even as it serveth to the other internal senses, unto which it succeed in order, so also it serveth the Understanding and Will. Concerning the Understanding, if we consider it generally, it comprehendeth the whole mind: but being taken more specially, we mean a certain particular office thereof. For it understandeth the the things that come from without, as we conceive them: than it layeth up that which it hath understood in some little coffer by itself for a time, out of which it may take them again when need requireth. This repetition and taking again, which is as it were an inquiry, and searching out, is called Consideration: & from thence it cometh to recordation and remembrance, and so conferreth together the things it hath understood, and compareth them one with another: which being done, a discourse thereof is had with others, after which discourse it determineth and judgeth what is true and what false, what good and what evil. Then doth the Will choose that which is good, and refuseth the evil. And as we come from the understanding to the will by these degrees, so we must ascend up by the same steps, even from the last to the first, namely from Will to Understanding. For Will doth not follow after or refuse any thing, which the judgement hath not first determined to be good or evil: and the judgement decreeth nothing before it hath taken advise of reason, and reason adviseth not before she have conferred the things one with another, and thoroughly examined them. Neither can this conferring be without consideration, nor consideration without requiring that of Memory, which was committed unto it to keep, and the memory will keep nothing safe, but that which it hath first known and understood. So that the reasonable soul hath all these things, namely Understanding, Will and Memory. And under this faculty of understanding, there is simple and particular intelligence, What degrees are between judgement and Will. after which Consideration followeth, next Recordation, then Conferring, and discoursing after that, next judgement, and last of all Contemplation, which is as it were the rest of the soul and spirit. Now these things being so excellent and wonderful, and somewhat obscure withal, deserve to be discoursed of more at large, and to be uttered more clearly. And therefore before we go to any other matter, we shall do well to consider of the diversity that is found in the operations and discourses of the Understanding, according to that gift of light which is in it, and what is the end of all discourses. Prepare therefore thyself ASER to entreat of this matter. Of the variety and contrariety that is found in the opinions, deliberations, counsels, discourses and judgements of men, with the cause thereof: and of the good order and end of all discourses. Chap. 29. ASER. All things whatsoever can be rehearsed, are either of this mutable and temporary nature, or of the other, which is immutable, perpetual and above that nature. If the question be of the first, either the variety and change is such, that no certain rule or determination can be given, or else there is a perpetual tenor and constancy in them according to their inbred inclination, through a steadfast and continual order of nature, which is alike in all, according to their natures and kinds. If the variety and change be very uncertain, there can no certain science and knowledge be had of them, nor any determination set down so general, but that there willbe always some exception. For touching the first sort, What knowledge we may have of variable things. we can have no sure knowledge of things that are infinite, and that have infinite alterations. And because particularities, and particular things are infinite in regard of our capacity, there can no entire and certain knowledge be had of them all in special. As for generals, howbeit they also are variable, yet some rules may well be given of them, of which the art followeth afterward: and yet no such certain rules, but often it falleth out otherwise, as we may see in many arts, and in sundry experiences. For although it be ordinary for women to love their children, yet there are some that murder them cruelly. So that howsoever it be very common to love them, yet it falleth not out so always. Therefore we may well say of a woman, if she be a Mother, it is very like, that she loveth her child, because it is natural. But we cannot conclude certainly, that it is always so, seeing we often see the contrary. There are also oftentimes many signs, which have such apparent significations, that they seem to signify things unto us certainly enough, wherein nevertheless we are deceived, as it falleth out often in our suspicions & opinions, which are not grounded upon certain and firm arguments, and most evident reasons. Wherefore the knowledge that we may have of such things cannot properly be called science, In what things conjecture taketh place. but only conjecture, opinion, probability or likelihood, because there is great show of truth, but yet not very certain. Now albeit the nature of things be mutable, yet if they always keep one and the same tenor and constancy, which continueth alike always to itself, a man may have a certain knowledge of them, Of what things science or knowledge may be had. and that is called science: example whereof we have in celestial bodies and in natural things, which always keep one and the self same order and nature, both in the elements, and in living creatures, in plants also and such like things. For as for the heavens, although they be mutable creatures, yet they have always certain courses and motions, which follow their accustomed order without ceasing. In like manner we see that all these things mentioned even now, are distinguished in their kinds, and have their natural means whereby they are maintained and preserved. For it is natural in man to beget man, and by this means mankind is preserved. The same may be said of other living creatures, of plants also and of such other things which never fail in keeping their order. We have this light in us by nature. Wherefore when I see a child or a man, I may always say certainly, that no painter hath painted and fashioned him in that sort, and that it is none of his work: but that he was begotten and bred of a man and a woman that were his parents. For God doth not now create men and women, as he created Adam and Eve in the beginning, and as we showed in our first discourse, but by the common order which he established at that time, and in regard of which he instituted the holy estate of Marriage, In what things wisdom taketh place. as we will entreat hereafter. But if the question be concerning immutable, perpetual and supernatural things, we have need of another light, that is greater and more agreeable to their nature, which is given to men by divine inspiration. This light or knowledge is called Sapience or Wisdom. For this cause Saint Paul writing to the Ephesians saith, Ephes. 1. 16, 17, 18. I cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord jesus Christ the father of glory, might give unto you the spirit of wisdom and revelation through the knowledge of him: that the eyes of your understanding may be lightened, that ye may know what the hope is of his calling, and what the riches of his glorious inheritance is in the Saints. We see here how the Apostle joineth together wisdom, revelation and illumination of the understanding, The author of wisdom. the author of which he maketh the spirit of God, by whose revelation and lightning we obtain true wisdom, of which the wisdom of the world is not capable. And therefore afterward he calleth this wisdom, Ephe. 3. 19 the knowledge that passeth all knowledge. For although by our natural light we have some obscure knowledge of God, as we have already touched it, yet it cannot so far lighten us, nor cause us to ascend so high, except God give us this also, of which I spoke even now. Therefore how great soever the natural light be which we have, yet if we follow it any thing far, we are presently compassed with darkness, Much darkness mingled with our natural light. which proceedeth not of the things we are to know, but from our own minds, which being pressed with the heavy burden of our body, are hindered and made more slow: or else it is because our minds are troubled, as if some cloud troubled the sight of our eyes. So that the more light is in our mind, the greater knowledge we have there, and the less doubting. If there be no light at all, or so little that it be no better than none at all, than ignorance spreadeth itself as it were darkness in an obscure and troubled night, insomuch that there is neither science, nor opinion, nor likelihood, nor doubting. Hear of it is that we commonly say, ignorant persons cast no perils. Thus then as every one hath more light in the mind, he beholdeth obscure things more clearly, The cause of the diversity of knowledge and of ignorance in men. because his understanding is better, either by the benefit of nature, or by study and exercise, or by a special gift of God. Others see nothing at all or very little, no not into those things that are very clear & manifest, so that they are like to men compassed & covered with darkness at Midday. This befalleth them either through the ignorance that is in their understanding, or by reason of their blockish slothfulness that neglecteth exercise, or by the just judgement of God, who because of their sins hath blinded their minds, giving them over to Satan to blind them, 2. Cor. 4. 4. who useth to shut up the eyes of worldly, carnal, and unfaithful men, whom he hath in his power. So that if there be any error in the minds of men, if they approve and follow after lying in stead of truth, and evil in place of goodness, this cometh not from the natural or supernatural light that God hath given them, nor of the knowledge they have thereby, how great or small soever it be, but of the darkness that is mingled amidst this light, which sin hath made more dark and wholly overwhelmed, and the Devil daily increaseth to the uttermost of his power, because he would gladly have all light in us, as well natural as supernatural, clean extinguished and put out. For as brightness breedeth not clouds and obscurity, so science and knowledge doth not bring forth ignorance and error. For contraries are not made one of another. Wherefore that cometh to pass in the lightning of our understandings, which we see to happen in the change of light, in regard of our eyes. For according to that which is put betwixt, so doth the quality and virtue of the light change in respect of our sight. If it be a very thick body, which the light cannot pierce through, then is it wholly taken from us, and as it is more or less thick, or thin and transparent, so do our eyes receive more or less light. In like manner the lightning of our understanding is wonderful variable, Causes of the variety of men's opinions. because of the great diversity of things that are set before it in this life, to hinder it sundry ways, in some more, in some less, according to those objects that are offered to every one, or as men procure to themselves. From hence it is that there are so many divers opinions sentences & judgements amongst men, in all deliberations and in all matters, especially when the controversy of discerning truth from falsehood, good from bad, & what is to be followed, what to be fled. Now concerning those things, which chief cause this great diversity, we have first to consider of the composition, complexion and disposition of man's body, whether it be sound, or whether it be sick. Also the Age, strength, or weakness, the perfection or imperfection thereof, common custom, the present disposition of vading qualities engendered by nourishment, time and place, with those actions and things that may outwardly happen to the body. For we see by experience, that the understanding and spirit with all the parts and offices of the soul receive great help or hindrance, according as the body, and all the members thereof are well or ill disposed, The manners of men follow the disposition of their bodies. and that the manners follow the complexion and disposition of the body. For God hath so tempered the nature thereof with that of the soul to make them agree well together, that the one taketh much of the other, either to good or bad purpose, according as they are either well or ill affected. Concerning the soul, we have to consider therein all the affections, besides the nature of the understanding, whether it be slow and heavy, or quick and light, and of a ready conceit and discourse, and whether it be sharp or dull. Again, consideration must be had of the teaching and instruction which it hath had, what opinions are already rooted in it, & what persuasions have forestalled it, as also how far the behaviour, custom and authority of others can prevail with it. For all these things greatly trouble the minds of men, and procure not only diversity, but also contrariety of opinions, sentences and wills of men, which causeth them to change and rechange so often, insomuch that they do not only differ and are contrary one to another, but every one also to himself. For we have daily trial in ourselves, that wee-change our opinions from hour to hour, and minute to minute, insomuch that whatsoever we have now approved, determined and set down for a certain decree, we condemn and reject it by and by after, and utterly overthrow it: and contrariwise we approve and ratify that which we had a little before condemned and refused. Whereupon we have to note, according to that we heard before of the discourse of reason, which is the proper effect of the understanding, that there are two kinds of it. Two kinds of discourses. For there are discourses, wherein reason goeth on by degrees in continual order, one discourse always following another, by considering and examining whatsoever appertaineth to the matter in hand, that so a certain and sound judgement there of may be rendered afterward. Again, there is another kind of discoursing, wherein reason doth not only run amain, but withal skippeth hither & thither, as though it took here a little and there a little, tasting only of things very slightly & by the way, as Bees that fly from one flower to another, & leave others between untouched. Which course whilst reason taketh, it omitteth some step or other which it ought to trace: and that either through ignorance of the right path it ought to follow, or because it thinketh it needless to stay about that which it passeth by, or because it delighteth not, or is not disposed so to do. Moreover, we must know, that there is great diversity of discourses, according to the variety of men's understandings. For sharp wits sound to the bottom, that matter which is propounded unto them: wise and subtle heads, even by small conjectures far fetched, conceive that which they seek after and attain thereunto. There are some also of such great spirits, that conceive many things at once, and as it were in the twickling of an eye, and at one look behold all that is pertinent to the matter. Whereby it appeareth, that they have a ready imagination and fantasy, their memory like to an open treasury, a quick consideration, and a perfect and sound remembrance. For if the imagination and fantasy be slow, or the memory shut up, or if consideration cease, or recordation be weak, the discourse will be backward, and fall out but badly, as it is with children, and those that are very aged, with sick folks, and those that have their minds troubled. Of the end of all discourses. Now the end of all discoursing in the mind, tendeth either to the invention or conclusion of the thing that a man seeketh for. And if he attain not to his end, it is either because he taketh not the way which he ought to take, as they that know not what way to follow, which cometh to pass by divers means: or because his understanding is not good, but full of darkness: or through some perturbation that troubleth it for a time, as when the affections are much moved: or by reason of the variety of cogitations, which trouble and hinder one another. There are some also which go on without any regard had to that thing they seek after, as it falleth out with them that are too much moved, and that have a very hasty imagination and fantasy. For these men go beyond the place, where they might find the thing which they seek for: and so leaving the chief matter behind, they fall into unnecessary and buy matters, into foolish trifling and strange things, without all compass of reason, and such as belong nothing to the purpose. Wherefore, so soon as the discourse is begun, fantasy is presently to be bridled and kept in, and the inquisition also of memory, to the end the understanding may commodiously take hold of that which it is to follow, and that no such hasty and light commotion carry it away, and so cause it to lose all. Wherein we may say, that it falleth out with the understanding, as it doth with a hound that is in chase. For if he cannot by scent find out the game he seeketh, or if after he hath found it & is in chase, he fall to hunt riot, or if he give in, either for want of courage, or because he is spent, or because the course is too long, he shall never take the pray for which he was brought to field, but lose it without recovery: A comparison. So in these discourses of the mind, whereof we speak, there are others also beside them that are: already mentioned, who, because they are of a slow spirit, and the matters they search for are far off and hard to find, have not vigour nor force sufficient to attain unto them. The self same thing also happeneth to some, not so much for want of strength and quickness of spirit, as because they are commonly idle and slothful, as it is with them that will not be attentive, and cannot away to occupy their minds, when they should take some pains to learn. There are many of these, who being more careful for their bodies then for their souls, and that they may more freely attend to the body and the desires thereof, are soon persuaded to give over all care to seek for and to provide things necessary for the soul. And if the body be never so little out of square, yea the very fear lest they should procure it any grief, causeth them wholly to abstain from labouring the mind in the searching out of wisdom and truth, so that they voluntary become ignorant. There are others that have running heads, who will never continue and stay in one thing: and some also that when they should hearken to that which they are about, have their wits a woolgathering, and, as we use commonly to say, are building of castles in Spain. But above all we must herein acknowledge that God distributeth his gifts and graces to men, and bestoweth wit and understanding as it pleaseth him. Now that we have entreated sufficiently of the understanding, and of the discourses of reason therein, let us speak of judgement which followeth it, and of his office. This then shallbe the matter subject of thy speech, AMANA. Of judgement, and of his office, after the discourse of reason: and how Belief, Opinion, or doubting follow it: of the difference that is between them. Chap. 30. AMANA. If I judge aright of the doctrine contained in our former discourses, which handled the nature, powers, faculties and virtues of the soul, I find that the spirit is as it were the chief part therein, The several powers of the soul. in which is the Mind, the Understanding, & Memory. The Mind is as it were a white paper, wherein as a man groweth in years and judgement, so he writeth his cogitations and thoughts, which he hath by learning and by the instruction of wisdom. Understanding is framed by the knowledge of reason, and last of all Memory followeth. For there is great difference between that which the senses and the understanding are able to do in the time of infancy, and that which is done by them in other ages, wherein there is greater use of them. And although the seeds of all the operations of the soul, are included within it even from the beginning of the creation thereof, nevertheless God hath created it of that nature, that as he hath joined it to the body, which hath his degrees of growth in every part thereof, so the soul hath some agreement therewith in this respect, touching the manifestation of her powers and virtues. If then any man be endued with an excellent spirit, that is quick and ready to conceive, and with a memory apt to retain and hold fast, it is a great mean for him whereby to attain to the knowledge of the truth. But for the perfection of these two great gifts of nature, it is necessary he should have a good and found judgement, proceeding from a sound disputing and discoursing of reason lightened by the spirit of God, and by it purged of error, illusion, and of all vain opinions, which the nature of man hath of his own inheritance, and which hindereth him from judging aright of the truth. Now the office of judgement is to like or dislike the discourses of reason, Of the office of judgement. and the conclusions which are made thereby. For it belongeth to judgement, to judge whether reason discourse and conclude well as it ought to do. And therefore it is in the spirit and in the mind, as a rule, or as the skoles in a pair of balance: and whilst reason is a working, it is quiet. But when she hath concluded and done, judgement afterward examineth and considereth whether there be any fault in the discoursing, or in the conclusion, or in both, or whether all be well referred, before it either approve or mislike any thing. And if it find any thing that breedeth fear lest it be deceived, than it beginneth again to advise of the matter. Now the greatest cause it hath to fear lest it be deceived, ariseth of probable reasons, which albeit they be like to be true, yet indeed are not true. And because there are some, which have such great show of truth, that it is a very hard matter to be able to discern them from true reasons, and not take them to be such indeed, therefore the judgement may be often deceived by this means. For it will not easily flippe aside, but abide constant in that wherein it is once settled, if it be not led and induced to allow or disallow of a thing, either by virtue of true and certain reasons that may move it, or of such reasons as are so very likely, and carry so great a show of truth, A sound judgement is an excellent gift of God. that they cannot be known and discerned for others. Therefore we may well say, that a good, upright and sound judgement is an excellent gift of God: neither is there any thing more necessary in all arts and disciplines, yea in the whole course of man's life, and chief for the principal end of our being, which is to know and to serve God. For as Good is a thing agreeable to the Will, so is Truth agreeable to the Mind: whereupon it followeth likewise, that as Evil is contrary and an enemy to the Will, so is lying in respect of the mind. Wherefore if judgement judgeth that the conclusion made by reason is true and followeth well, it joineth itself thereunto, receiving and embracing it as agreeable to itself. This approbation is called Consent. But if it judge the conclusion to be false, it turneth aside and rejecteth it, and this refusal may be called dissent, because it is contrary to consent, when there is no agreement of sentences, Two kinds of consents. but disagreement and contrariety. As touching Consent, we may divide it into two kinds. For one kind thereof is firm and steadfast, and another weak and unstaid. If the consent be firm, certain and thoroughly resolved, it is called Belief. But there is difference betwixt that belief or faith, which concerneth human matters, and that which is of divine things. For then do we give credit to human things, when we take them to be so certain, that we doubt nothing thereof, as namely when we are so persuaded either by very evident reasons which remove all doubting from us, or else by testimonies which we take to be most certain. Wherefore we may say, Agreement betwixt Belief and Science. that there is great agreement betwixt this kind of belief and between Science, because there is a certain resolution both in the one and in the other. For Science is a kind of knowledge in which the demonstration made unto us, compelleth us to approve that which is spoken, because we see the reasons so certain, that we cannot gainsay them, nor think otherwise. The like is done in belief, which is a kind of knowledge, that causeth us without doubting to give credit unto that which is told us, because we are overcome by witnesses and by authority which we approve. For if we doubted any thing, our consent would be yet weak, and so it could not properly be called belief, but rather Conjecture or Opinion. For considering that in this there is some kind of consent, which inclineth to one part rather than to another, therefore it tendeth to disliking, which is wholly against consent. What Opinion is. For this cause we call Opinion, a knowledge that moveth us to incline rather on the one side, then on the other, in regard of the appearance and show of reason that it hath: so that we are not fully resolved therein. Now albeit this consent, which is called opinion or conjecture, be not altogether so firm, as that which we call belief: nevertheless it differeth from Doubting, What doubting is. which is as it were a neuter judgement, hanging between consent and his contrary, and inclining neither to the one side nor to the other. As for that belief which is of divine things, there is such a firm consent required therein, as that all doubting must be utterly excluded. For faith is not perfect, if it do not allow for certain, whatsoever God hath revealed unto men by his word, which is a certain testimony of his will. Of saith in divine things. And although he hath given unto us the same means to instruct us by in these things, that he hath done in human things, yet he goeth further. For he doth not only teach us by experience, by reasons and demonstrations, which appear manifestly toour senses both external and internal, and of which our mind can judge as well as of human things, but he requireth chiefly of us, that we should believe his testimony, and those witnesses which he sendeth unto us, and that we should content ourselves with his authority. And because heavenly things surpass the capacity of our understandings, Of the light of faith. God maketh them capable by the light of faith, which is a supernatural and divine light, whereby we see that in God, which we cannot behold in all the creatures, and which our human reason cannot naturally comprehend. Now as much as this light is more certain than all other natural light, either external of the eyes of the body, or internal in respect of the eyes of the soul and mind, so much more certain is our sight and knowledge of that, which we see and know by means of that light. For this cause when our understandings are lightened with this light, we believe more firmly that which it manifesteth unto us, I say not only then that whereunto we may be persuaded by all the human reasons which can be alleged: but also then that which we see with our own eyes, and hear with our ears, and touch with our hands. For these external senses, and those internal senses also whose messengers the other are, are not so certain witnesses to our spirit, as the senses of faith, Of the senses of faith. which are more than human. For they are heavenly. Wherefore she hath eyes whereby she seethe divinely and not humanly, which can never be deceived as the eyes of the body may. The like we may say of her ears and of her hands. For there is no sense so certain as all hers are, because she receiveth them divinely by the spirit. Therefore as she hath not in her any imagination or fantasy that can deceive her, so she can never fail, either in her discourses or in her judgements whereupon she resolveth: because she is always guided in them by the holy spirit, whom she followeth for her rule in all things, and who assureth her by his testimony, as if she bore the marks and seals imprinted in herself, and in their minds and hearts in whom she dwelleth. Hereof it is that Saint Paul so often saith, Ephes. 4. 30. that God hath sealed us by his holy Spirit, speaking as it were of a seal imprinted in our hearts and minds, 2. cor. 1. 22. and as of an earnest and gage which God hath given us, for the best and most certain assurance that can be. No marvel therefore if the children of God endued with this true faith become so resolute, so firm and constant, that no authority, power, wisdom, force, eloquence, no human reasons, nor any thing that men or devils can imagine, think, say, or do, is able to make them to change their minds, whereof we have most evident examples, especially in the person of all the Martyrs, who could never by any violence in the world be overcome, but their faith hath evermore gotten the victory and triumphed over all their enemies. And by this we may assuredly know, that it is better grounded then upon all the reasons and persuasions of men that may be. Ephes. 2. Therefore it is not without cause that S. Paul calleth it the gift of God, neither is it without great reason commended so much in the Epistle to the Hebrews. Hebr. 11. For being come to that point, that it hath such an illumination, as to account all that God revealeth in his word to be more certain than any thing that we either see with our eyes, or touch with our hands, & hereof to have a true sense and feeling of the testimony of the holy spirit, then doth it exclude all doubting, which is contrary thereunto, and differeth much from that which we hold only in opinion, The conclusions of faith are most true and unchangeable. wherein there is as yet no great assurance. So that we may conclude hereupon, that according as faith is more or less in us, we shall never conclude ill, nor at any time give over our conclusions. For faith never concludeth any thing which God hath not before spoken, whose word and authority is unto it, as in deed it ought to be, in stead of all reason. For seeing it is that wisdom and truth which can never fail or lie, it needeth not to doubt in any respect to conclude always therewith, neither hath it cause at any time afterward to forsake or change the conclusion it hath set down. Wherefore when our faith is shaken and beginneth to alter, it is a sign and testimony, that it holdeth more of the nature of opinion then of belief, and that it hath not yet a judgement thoroughly resolved in the conclusion which it hath taken. So that here we may learn what difference there is betwixt belief, opinion, doubting, and infidelity or incredulity. Incredulity contrary to belief and opinion. For seeing incredulity is contrary to belief, it goeth farther than doubting, which concludeth nothing on either side, as both belief and opinion do, but incredulity concludeth contrary to them both. For it giveth no consent, as belief and opinion do, but taketh the clean contrary: and therefore it may well be called dissent or disagreement, as being opposite to that consent that is in belief. Now to end this speech, and to take away all doubting that may arise of this word Belief or Faith, Of the divers acceptions of this word Belief or Faith. I will only add this, that we are to know that it is diversly taken in the holy scriptures. For the name which it hath in the Hebrew tongue, is taken from the word, whereby they express verity or truth, which they also take for constancy & assurance. The word which the Evangelists and Apostles use according to the Grecians in whose language they wrote, signifieth properly Persuasion. And the name used by the Latins, from whom we have taken our Faith, signifieth that constancy and truth, which men keep in their words and promises: whereupon they call it the foundation of justice. Therefore faithful signifieth as much as true, constant, and firm in that which a man hath spoken and promised, namely, when one hath kept his faith. Hereof it is also that God is so often in the holy Scriptures called Faithful, in respect of us, because he never falfifieth his faith, but is always firm and constant in all his words and works. But when the Scripture speaketh of Faith in regard of men towards God; it doth not only comprehend a belief, whereby we believe that to be true which we hear, and which is spoken unto us, as when one telleth us some history, but it is also a trust, which assureth us, The description of Faith. that God will perform that unto us which he hath promised us. Therefore true faith includeth in it a certain and undoubted confidence of heavenly things, and an assured persuasion of the accomplishment of God's promises towards us. Now to prosecute our purpose, seeing we have learned, that the knowledge of the truth, which is the principal object of reason and understanding, is very hard for men to attain unto, let us consider of the means whereby we may be certain and sure of those things which we are to believe. This discourse ARAM. belongeth unto thee. Of the means whereby a man may have certain knowledge of those things, which he ought to believe and take for true: of the natural and supernatural light that is in man, and how they bear witness of the image of God in him. Chap. 31. ARAM, For a man to know himself to be ignorant, is a goodly science and so necessary for men, that without it they cannot be truly skilful. For the ignorant person that knoweth not himself to be such a one, It is good for a man to know his own ignorance. but supposeth he knoweth that which he doth not in deed, is as unteachable a beast as can be: because he will never seek for a master to be instructed by, but if any offer themselves he will reject them, and rather himself take upon him to teach them. Therefore Socrates was greatly commended by the ancients because he said, that he knew but one only thing, namely, that he was ignorant and knew nothing. True it is, that if we speak of things which may be known by the corporal and spiritual senses of men, even as nature hath given them unto us, and of things belonging to natural and moral Philosophy, there are many men to be found whose knowledge therein is so great, that other men in respect of them may seem to be but poor beasts. But when we must ascend up to the knowledge of things revealed unto us in jesus Christ, and in the Gospel, no sense or understanding of man is able to comprehend any thing therein, if the spirit of God do not teach him, and dwell in him, to seal and to confirm in his soul the doctrine of those heavenly mysteries, wherein the skilfullest men are no better taught of themselves, than those that are most ignorant. For that abideth always true which Saint Paul wrote to the Corinthians, 1. Cor. 2. 14. that the natural man perceiveth not the things of the spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. Now I find four means, Four means to know certainly those things that are to be believed. whereby men may be made certain of those things unto which they ought to give credit, whereof three of them are natural and according to natural Philosophy, the fourth goeth further, and is proper to divinity. The first is general experience: the second, the knowledge of principles: the third, natural judgement: of these three we will first speak, and then come to the fourth. Of general experience. General experience is that judgement which all men of sound minds do give all after one sort, of those things whereof they have certain experience by their corporal senses: as is to be seen in natural things. For who knoweth not that the fire is hot? And who would not take him for a senseless man that should affirm the contrary? Yea, who could affirm it, being convinced of the truth thereof by his own senses? Likewise who seethe not the difference that is between death and life, and what are the effects both of the one and the other? For every one knoweth these things by a general experience common to all. Wherefore this knowledge is certain: and where it is so, there needeth no other proof or demonstration fetched farther than from such experience. For God hath so created the nature of things, that men must needs confess it to be so, as general experience doth declare it to be. And he that will not believe it, let him take trial thereof himself, and he shall know whether it be so or no. So that whosoever would stand against this common and general experience, he should make open war against God and nature, in denying all order which he hath set down therein. Concerning the knowledge of principles, Of the knowledge of principles. we must first know that there is understood by principles, that natural knowledge that is borne with us, which is the seed of all Arts, and a beam of the light of God in us, to the end that by this means all Arts necessary for life, should be invented and put in use. As for example, every one knoweth naturally, that the whole of any thing is more than the half, or then a part of it only: and that three are more than two. To be brief, the knowledge of numbers, of measures, and of other such like things is natural unto us, and is not found in the nature of beasts: and therefore they have neither the invention nor use of any Art, as we have already heard. But let us proceed farther and consider, whether there be no natural knowledge in men, whereby they understand, that there is a divine nature, wise, just, true, good, that loveth goodness and hateth and punisheth evil, with which nature the soul of man hath some agreement, and is as it were an image thereof: for which cause he ought to be made conformable to God, by following after wisdom, truth, justice, goodness, and all virtue, and by shunning the contrary vices, Of the natural knowledge of God in men. In this respect, he that followeth this rule obeyeth God, doing that which is pleasant and right in his eyes: and he that leaveth this rule, disobeyeth and displeaseth him, committing wicked and dishonest things, whereby he becometh worthy of punishment. In a word, we may refer to these natural principles, whatsoever God hath imprinted in men's hearts and minds of the law of nature, which serveth all men for natural divinity, the Books of which they carry printed in their souls. And yet out of all question, this divinity will scarce serve us but to condemnation, if we go no farther, because the book thereof is so blotted in us, that there is not so much as one small piece or leaf thereof whole & sound, & which is not very much blurred & torn. Nevertheless that which remaineth is a sufficient process against us before God, and able to convince and condemn us at his judgement. Of this we ourselves may judge, in that we see, that there is no nation or people that live with no religion at all, but they have one either true or false, whereby they labour to appease the wrath of God, and to be under his favour and protection, according to that measure of knowledge, which they have of him. Whereby they plainly declare, that there is a certain law within them taken from the Book of this natural divinity, which condemneth them in their hearts, & urgeth & constraineth them to do that which they do, even as we feel ourselves pressed and cnndemned by the written law which God hath given unto us. The use both of the natural and of the written law. Wherefore if we knew how to profit by them both, they would both serve us in stead of a Schoolmaster to direct & lead us unto jesus Christ. For both of them, if we understand them well, testify sufficiently unto us, that we stand in need of a Mediator, by whom we may have access to God and be reconciled unto him, seeing we feel our condemnation within ourselves and in our own consciences. As for the third mean to make a man certain of that which he is to account for true, which we said was natural judgement, Of natural judgement. it is the understanding of that order that ought to be in things, and of the consequence of them, whereby to judge in some sort of the agreement or disagreement they have one with an other: insomuch that every one hath within himself as it were a natural logic, whereby he is able to judge at leastwise of common things. It remaineth now that we learn the fourth mean, which passeth all the former, and that is divine revelation, whereof we have made mention, and those certain and infallible testimonies, which we learn of the holy Scriptures, I mean the Books of the Prophets and Apostles, Of the fourth mean of knowledge. with the confirmation and understanding of them by the holy Spirit. For it were not enough for us to have the word of God delivered unto us by them, except the holy Ghost had his working both in them & in us. Wherefore although naturally we more easily and firmly believe that which our mind is able to see, know, and comprehend by the natural light thereof, then that which goeth beyond it, yet forasmuch as God hath made us capable of understanding and reason, we ought to give no less credit to all that he hath revealed unto us by his word, yea much more to this, howsoever by that light of nature which remaineth in us we neither see nor know how true and firm it is, and that for the causes before uttered. Hereof it is that in the Epistle to the Hebrews, Hebr. 11. faith is called the substance and ground of things hoped for, and such an evident demonstration of things not seen, that it convinceth men and causeth them to perceive and know the truth of them very clearly. Whereupon we have to note, that this natural light, and that which we call supernatural, are not (to speak properly) two divers and different lights, but one and the same, as we should well have known, if our nature had continued in perfection, and in that image of God in which it was created and framed, far differing from all other creatures. For although there is in them some image of God, Of the image of God in man. yet they have not understanding to know it as it is, neither to know God their creator, who hath imprinted it in them. But it is far otherwise in man. For God will be known of him, and therefore he hath so imprinted his image in his nature, that he will have him to see and know it. For this cause he hath given him a mind and understanding able to to receive this knowledge. For the greatest likeness and resemblance that man can have with God, consisteth in the agreement with him in wisdom and justice, which cannot be but in a nature that is capable and partaker of reason and understanding. Now because God is good, yea a common and general Good, he will not withhold this good in himself without communicating it, but maketh all his creatures partakers thereof, especially man, with whom it hath pleased him to communicate this Good of wisdom and justice, which is the greatest and most excellent good that is in him. Therefore did God together with his image imprint his knowledge in the nature of man. For man could not otherwise know this image and similitude, neither what it is to be like or unlike to God, if he had no more knowledge of God, who, and what manner a one he is, than other creatures that want this knowledge, because they are not capable of understanding and reason, nor of this image of wisdom and justice which is in God, and by which man is made like unto him. Wherefore the first degree of this image and similitude that is in man, appeareth in that power and faculty of understanding which God hath given him, and in that wisdom whereof he hath made him partaker, and which hath some agreement with the wisdom of God. So that before man sinned, the image of God was such in him, that there was a perfect agreement of all the powers and virtues of the soul between God and him. For the divine light did so shine in his mind, that he had certain and firm knowledge of GOD, neither was there any resistance against either in his heart or in his will, but a sound and perpetual concord and consent. So that there was always between the mind and the will an uprightness and justice agreeable with God, neither was the freedom of the will hindered or driven forward to evil, because man had not yet made himself the subject and salve of sin. As long therefore as man kept this image of God within him, the Lord dwelled therein as in his own lodging: and by that means would have given to men such perpetual life & joy, as should never have been broken off or extinguished either by sorrow or by death, if he had suffered himself to be always guided by God, & never turned aside nor severed himself from him. Therefore S. Paul speaking of this first image and the renewing thereof in man, saith, Put on the new man, Ephes. 4. 24. which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness. Seeing then it is thus, there is no doubt but that, if man had continued in his integrity, the light which is now supernatural in him, would have been natural in all that knowledge of God, which is necessary for him to that end whereunto he was created. For he had never been overwhelmed with darkness, which dimmed and hindered this heavenly light that shined in him, and made him the habitation and temple of God, but had seen clearly the image of the father, of the son, and of the holy ghost shining in his soul, in which it was imprinted, the draughts and beams whereof are yet evident enough in him, I mean to them that consider of them as it appertaineth, following the light of the word of God. But forasmuch as the darkness which sin hath brought with it, keepeth man from having any sound and perfect knowledge of God, or of heavenly things, as he had in his first estate, it is necessary therefore that he should restore and kindle again in him, this divine and perfect life which he hath lost, by the benefit of regeneration and spiritual renovation, as if he created him anew, giving him a mind to understand his word, and a will to follow and to embrace it. This is that, which I thought we were to note and learn concerning the means that bring us certain knowledge of such things as we ought to judge and account for true. Let us now consider, how the spirit of man being enriched in measure with heavenly gifts and graces, doth finally attain to the end of all inquisition and searching out of truth, which is contemplation, that followeth judgement, as judgement followeth reason and the discourse thereof. Therefore do thou, ACHITOB▪ take upon thee to discourse of this matter subject, and so end all speeches of this days work concerning understanding, that afterward we may look particularly into the will, which is the second part and virtue of the highest and most sovereign power of the soul. How the virtues and powers of the soul show themselves by little and little, and by degrees: of contemplation, and of the good that is in it: of that true and divine contemplation which we look for after this life. Chap. 32. ACHITOB. I was much troubled oftentimes about the understanding of these two words Soul and Spirit, in seeking to find what difference or agreement they have one with another: seeing that many times I saw one of them taken for the other, and also opposed as repugnant one to another. The difference betwixt soul and spirit. In the end I learned of skilful men, that we might use the word Soul to signify man as he is borne, having only the gifts of a human soul, namely, the human senses, and those other powers and virtues both animal and natural, of which we have already spoken. And as for the Spirit, that we must understand thereby, whatsoever heavenly grace and knowledge of the truth is given to man by the spirit of God dwelling in him, which guideth and leadeth him to the contemplation of the divine nature, wherein consisteth his good and felicity. Moreover we may see in sundry places of the Scriptures according to the Hebrew phrase, Matth. 10. 39 rom. 13. 1. Esay 40. 5, 6. Iuc. 3. 6. Rom. 8. 6. the word Soul taken not only for the life of man, and for all things belonging thereto, but also for the whole nature of man: and thus also is the word Flesh taken. Therefore when the flesh is opposed and set against the spirit in man, we understand thereby, not the body only, but also the soul of man, I mean such a one as it was at the beginning, when being left unto itself it followed the corruption of it own nature. And likewise by the spirit, we mean that which is regenerated in every part of man, whereby he being withdrawn from the perverse desires and corrupt affections of his nature, is lift up to the contemplation of celestial and eternal things. But our God useth in such sort to apply himself to the nature and ability of his creatures, that by little and little, and by degrees he dispenseth unto them those things, which he will bestow upon them, always keeping that order, which he hath used and followed in the creation of the word. Genes. 1. For, as Moses testifieth, he first created it of nothing. Then having created the matter of all natures, he brought it into a work, and gave unto it a form, and so polishing it by degrees and day by day, at length he set it in that perfection, which he minded to bestow upon it. We see likewise, that in the continuation of his works, How God proceedeth in the creation of his works. he beginneth always at the basest and least thing, and so goeth on increasing, augmenting and ascending up until he hath placed them in their perfection, whereof we have daily experience, principally in plants and living creatures. For the generation of plants cometh of their seeds, from which they take their beginning. And when the seed, which is the least part of the whole plant, is put into the ground, it taketh root therein and then cometh forth, increasing daily until it come to those bounds, that are allotted unto it by the Creator, which it can not pass: because it can not attain to greater perfection being of that kind, but then daily falleth to decay, until it be wholly consumed and returned to the elements from whence it was taken. The like is done in the generation of all living creatures, and namely in that of man. For what is his beginning? and what is his conception, nativity, childhood, adolescency, youth, man's estate, and then old-age? We see how small his beginning is, and how he groweth step by step, and from age to age until he cometh to the flower of his age, and to his full strength, as plants do: and from thence the nearer he draweth to old-age, the more he fadeth and decayeth until he come to death, whereby the body returneth to the Elements out of which it is taken. For as God hath given him a beginning, so hath he appointed him limits, unto which he may ascend up until he come to his highest, and then he is to descend, as the ordinance of God shall lead him. As for the soul, the same can not befall it in regard of bigness, seeing it is not corporal as the body is, neither yet in respect of death, seeing it is immortal. For it can not be resolved as the body may, to return into the elements, out of which it is not taken, but it abideth always in that substance and nature which first it had, because it is of a celestial and divine nature. But if the question be of the faculties, powers and virtues thereof, the seeds of which it hath in itself, we see by experience how they show themselves more and more perfect, and how the use of them is greater in one age then in an other. How the powers of the soul manifest themselves. For as long as the infant is in his mother's womb, no man can perceive that as yet he useth any other virtue and faculty of the soul that is in him, then that which heretofore we called the vegetative or nourishing faculty, by which he is nourished as plants are. After, when he is borne, he continueth a long time like to other living creatures, as though he had only a vegetative and sensitive soul as they have. Then by little and little as he groweth from one age to an other, those virtues of the soul whereby he differeth from beasts, appear every day more and more. And yet he hath no other soul in substance, nor any other senses and mind throughout his whole life, than he had when it first moved: as also he hath no other body. But a man may easily judge, that this cometh not of the nature of the soul, but of the instruments it hath in the body, which in the infancy of man, hinder it from doing that which it doth by them in other ages. How they have their degrees in growth. Besides, we may truly say, that God hath created it of that nature, that as he hath joined it unto the body, which hath his degrees of growth, so the soul hath some agreement therewith in this respect, touching the manifestation of her natural powers and virtues. Neither is it any strange thing if God deal so with it in this matter. In the mean time we see, that although the soul of man seemeth in nothing or very little to differ from that of plants, as long as it is in the mother's womb, nor from the soul of beasts during the time of his infancy: nevertheless afterward it showeth very well wherein it differeth from them, and that it hath certain virtues, which are not in any other soul. For if this were not so, both in respect of the age and growth of the body, as also in regard of that property which is in the nature thereof, it would be always like to that which it is in the beginning, as we see it is with plants and beasts, in whose soul we can perceive no more change in the end and when they grow up, then in their beginning and first birth. According then to that I have now said, we see by experience, that in the gifts and graces, wherewith GOD daily adorneth and enricheth his children, he doth not communicate all at once unto them, but by little and little and by degrees, as he judgeth it expedient, and as they are capable of reason and understanding. Therefore it is written of john Baptist, Luke 1. 80. that the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit: which is as much to say, as that according as he grew in age, God increased the graces of his holy spirit upon him, wherewith he had endued him even from his mother's womb. And when we have profited well in his school, so that we are assured of, and instructed in those things, which we ought to follow according to the word of GOD, we easily attain to that Good, which is the end of all inquiry of the truth, namely to contemplation, which followeth judgement, as judgement followeth reason and the discourse thereof. The difference betwixt reason, and judgement, and contemplation. For reason discoursing, is as it were the inquisition of the truth that is sought for, and judgement is as the election that maketh choice of the truth, and of that which it taketh to be most certain: and Contemplation is as it were a quiet and settled beholding of all those things which were gathered together by reason, and received with approbation by judgement. For there is no more place for disputation, seeing all things are certain and clear. Now all pleasure and delight proceedeth from the convenience and agreement, that is betwixt the thing that pleaseth, and him whom it doth please. And because there is nothing more agreeable to the nature of the spirit and mind of man then truth, hereof it cometh, that notwithstanding all corruption that is in him, there is no man but naturally desireth knowledge and skill, accounting science to be excellent and worthy of great praise, and ignorance to be full of shame, yea, he judgeth it a very ill thing to be deceived. Wherefore we may not doubt, but that as knowledge is more true and certain, so doth the spirit receive greater pleasure: and when it hath found the truth, it delighteth greatly therein. And if for the causes before touched by us, it can not find the truth so certainly as it desireth, yet it taketh singular pleasure in approaching so near unto it as it can. For this cause the more certain the truth is which it knoweth, it is the more agreeable and pleasant unto it, especially when it knoweth the true spring and first causes thereof. Therefore as the minds of men delight more in those things that resemble them most, of so much the more noble and excellent nature they are, yea more heavenly and divine, and so will take pleasure in such things as are most excellent and celestial. Contrariwise, the more earthly, vile, and abject they shall be, the more will they delight in mortal, base and contemptible things, and despise such as are of greatest value. For this cause many Philosophers have esteemed more of the study of Philosophy and the knowledge thereof, Why some have preferred Philosophy before riches. then of kingdoms and great riches, being provoked and pricked thereunto, by an unspeakable pleasure which their spirit took in the knowledge of those things that were revealed unto them therein. On the other side, we see that ambitious men delight more in honours and worldly greatness, than they would do, at leastwise in their own opinion, in all the skill of the Philosophers. A coverous man pleaseth himself a great deal more in telling and beholding his crowns, then in any other thing whatsoever. It is no marvel therefore if ambitious, covetous, and voluptuous men, and such like do commonly deride those that take delight in learning, and chief in the doctrine and contemplation of those celestial and eternal things, which they set before their eyes, or if they prefer greatly their own estate and condition, before others that take pleasure in such things. For they are pearls cast before swine, which are not valued as they are worth, but only of such as know them and their value. Now if heathen Philosophers have oftentimes willingly abandoned all their goods, that they might wholly addict themselves to the study of their human Philosophy, & to the contemplation of such things as they could know thereby, notwithstanding that it was always accompanied with some doubting, and that they could never attain to a certain knowledge either of the beginning or end of things: what ought Christians to do, when the question is of Divine Philosophy and Wisdom, the treasures of which are opened and offered unto them in the word of God? For it is without all comparison far more certain than any science, and containeth in it other truths, Of the benefits that cometh by the contemplation of divine things. and matters that are great deal more profound, excellent, and more worthy of contemplation. And they to whom God hath been so gracious, as to give some taste and experience of these things, are able to judge well of them, yea far better than any others. For it is certain that even for a little true knowledge of God, and of the truth of those things which he hath revealed unto us in his doctrine, we receive singular delight, with great joy, and sweet consolation. So that every man may perceive, how much greater the pleasure will be when the knowledge shall be greater. If then this small taste, which we may have in this world of these delicacies and spiritual delights, bringeth unto us such singular joy, we may easily judge how great it will be in that most happy contemplation, which we shall have in heaven with God, when we shall behold him face to face, and know him as we are known, whereas here we see him but as it were in a glass, Of the contemplation that is after this life. and through a cloud. For that is the contemplation of all contemplations, seeing it is the beholding of God, with whom nothing may be compared. Then there shall be no cloud of ignorance, when we shall have, not a likely or probable, but a most certain and true knowledge. For the truth shall be showed unto us most certain in GOD who is the Author and Father thereof, in whom we shall thoroughly and perfectly see and know the causes of all things. For our spirits shall be held no longer in such an obscure and dark prison, as here they are constrained to suffer in our mortal bodies. When all men shall be of one judgement. Therefore there shall be no more diversities, disagreements, or contrarieties of opinions and judgements, that some should condemn that which others approve, but all shall be of the same judgement. But seeing we are fallen into the matter of contemplation, it shall not be unprofitable, if upon occasion of that division, which is commonly made of the active and contemplative life, we note, that although the spirit desireth above all things the pleasure that is in contemplation, as the proper food and delight thereof, yet we must always consider, that we are not only borne for ourselves, but also for others, and to this end, that we should all in common serve one an other, both generally and specially. For God doth not only command the performance of that service, which he requireth of us towards his own person according to that which is contained in the first Table of the Law, but he commandeth us also in the second Table to do that which he requireth of us towards other men. The active life must be joined with the contemplaive. Therefore he will not have us dwell always in contemplation, but we must put to our hand, and discharge us of our duty towards every one, according as he teacheth us by his word. We are then to learn, that so long as we live in this world, we must not separate the active life from the contemplative, but always join them both together, until we come to that blessed life, which shallbe altogether contemplative, when we shallbe delivered from all the miseries and necessities, and from all the troubles & lets in which we are wrapped and detained in this mortal life. God grant us his grace to use all our senses so well, both external and internal, and all the powers, faculties and virtues of our soul and spirit, of which we have hitherto spoken, that we may cause them all to serve to his glory, and that we may attain to that blessed contemplation, which is prepared for all his elect in his celestial palace: and that to this end he would dispose in us our will, and all the affections of our soul, of the nature of which we will begin to morrow to discourse. And first, ASER, I think thou art to entreat of those appetites that are naturally in man, seeing Desire is the proper subject of the Will, as thou shalt instruct us more at large. The end of the fourth days work. THE FIFT days work. Of the Appetites that are in all living creatures, and namely in man, and of their kinds: and particularly of the Natural and Sensitive Appetite. Chap. 33. ASER. As God and all that is in the world, is propounded to the mind of man, that he might know him so far forth as is needful for him, so is he also propounded to the will, that he might will, The object of the will is as large as that of the mind. desire, and follow him as far as his nature is capable thereof. Wherefore if man had not sinned, but had continued in his first estate wherein God created him, this great and eternal Goodness had shed in our souls that divine word, together with his holy spirit: which word, being the eternal son of God, would have always taught and showed us the Father, of whom Bee was begotten before all time; and would have lightened our minds with the light of all wisdom that we might have beheld and seen him: and the holy spirit would have joined our hearts and wills unto the Father and to the Son, through a mutual love replenished with all joy and gladness, and through certain motions agreeable with the divine nature. By which means there should have been in our hearts a great fire of love towards God, and next to him we should have loved all other good things, according to that order which is showed unto us in his heavenly wisdom and doctrine, and should have desired them for the love of him. But now in the estate of natural corruption in which we are, all this goodly agreement, harmony, and concord which ought to be between God and man, is wholly perverted and overthrown. What great confusion is in our corrupt nature. For in place of the true knowledge of God, there is nothing but ignorance and doubting in our minds: and as for the will, it searcheth after and desireth other things whereunto it apply itself, and seeketh not after God. Neither doth it keep any order in those things which it hath for objects, and which it setteth down in stead of the things commanded in his word. So that while it thinketh to attain to that good whereunto naturally it aspireth, it obtaineth nothing to itself but a very great evil. Now when we spoke before of the brain, and of the internal senses of the soul, and of the principal part and virtue thereof, we made some mention of the will, which ought to be directed and led by understanding and reason. It remaineth now that we look more narrowly into the nature thereof, and of the affections of the soul, of the vital virtue, of the heart, and of other members, which are the seats and instruments thereof, even as when we entreated of the animal virtues of the soul, we considered of their seats and instruments. First then we must mark what hath been hitherto spoken, namely, that God hath given to all his creatures a natural inclination, that leadeth every one of them to that which is natural and agreeable to itself. Of the desires that are in creatures. Beasts have an appetite to follow that good that is fit for them, and therefore also hath God given them the knowledge of that good, and senses meet for that purpose, to the end they might show unto them, what is good for their preservation to follow it, and to shun the contrary. We have learned also how God hath given both the one and the other to man, and unto what degree concerning both of them, he hath lifted him up above all living creatures. For as he hath created him to enjoy a far greater and more excellent Good than he hath beasts, and hath given unto him a will to wish and desire it, so he hath endued him with a deeper knowledge whereby to know that Good: because he could not wish for it and desire it, except he did know it, and he could not know it, if he had not a mind capable thereof, and endued with greater knowledge than that is, which he hath given to beasts. For this cause as they have a kind of knowledge agreeable to their nature, and to the quality of that Good, which being fit for them is the greatest they can attain unto: so also hath man a knowledge according to his nature, and to the end for the which he was created. So that the knowledge that God hath given him, serveth to stir up his appetite and desire of that Good which he knoweth: and this appetite also serveth his knowledge, so far forth as man being moved and pricked forward to love God, rejoiceth and reposeth himself in him, huing known him to be his sovereign Good. But to the end we may the better understand this whole matter, we must note, Three kinds of appetites. that there are three kinds of appetites among the creatures, which are commonly called, the one natural, the other sensitive, and the third voluntary. Of the Natural appetite. As for the natural, we may divide it into two sorts. For there is one general to all creatures, whether living or without life, which is nothing else but a natural inclination without any action, proceeding from any soul or life: as when we say, that heavy things desire to go downward, and light things upward, as we see it in the nature of the Elements, which are without soul and life. But beside this natural appetite common to all creatures, there is an other that hath action joined with the inclination, which nevertheless proceedeth not of any sense. This appetite is proper to the vegetative and nourishing soul and life, whereof plants are partakers. For we see by experience, that they have a natural appetite to draw unto them, and to retain that which is meet for their nature and food, and to expel the contrary. For if a plant wax dry, it desireth to be watered, and draweth and keepeth humour and moisture necessary for itself. We see the like in men's bodies. For when the members want nourishment, they suck the veins, and the veins draw unto them blood. And as the members desire their food, so they desire to be unburdened when they have too much. The appetite which we call hunger & thirst, Of hunger and thirst. may be referred to this kind of natural appetite, if this be excepted, that we can not say, it is without sense and feeling. For beside the desire of eating and drinking, there is withal a sense of this attraction, whereby the members suck the veins, and the veins the blood: and this sense is not without grief and displeasure. So that every living creature is stirred up to seek for his food, and to take his refection. Whereupon we may divide this natural appetite also into two kinds, whereof the one shallbe proper to plants that have no sense, Two kinds of Sense. and the other belong to living creatures that have this feeling, of which I made mention even now, and which differeth from that sense that is proper to the outward senses already spoken of. The reason whereof is, because it is properly such a kind of feeling, as those creatures have, which keep a mean between plants and living creatures, being partakers of both their natures, and yet are neither simply plants, nor perfect living creatures, as it hath been already showed. As therefore we heard in our former discourse, speaking of the growing up of man's body, and of the manifestation by little and little of the powers of the soul, namely that as long as the child is in his mother's womb, he is like to plants, so also he hath then great agreement with these middle sorts of creatures in regard of this kind of appetite, and of the manner of nourishing whereby it is fed. For the seed, whereof he is begotten and conceived, is nourished and groweth up as plants do, until such time as the Infant that is fashioned, have sense and feeling, much like to that sense of the aforesaid creatures, which are partakers of the nature both of plants and of living creatures. For as yet he hath no use of his external senses, Of the seat of the natural appetite. until such time as he be borne. Now the seat of this kind of natural appetite, is chief in the liver and in the stomach, and generally in all the members that serve for nourishment. For these members have that appetite that is joined with this kind of sense, of which I spoke even now. And as for the appetite of the other members, which serve not for the nourishing of the whole body, but only for themselves, it is more like to that appetite that is in plants. For they feel neither hunger nor thirst as other members do. And thus much for the natural appetite and the kinds thereof. Concerning the sensitive appetite, Of the sensitive appetite & kinds thereof. it is that which accompanieth the sense, and belongeth only to living creatures. There are two sorts of this. For either it is made with touching, or without touching. Pleasure and grief belong properly to the first kind, and the instruments and seats thereof are in the sinews, or else in that small sinewy skin, which giveth the sense. For those things delight the sinews which agree with their nature, and look what is contrary unto them, the same affecteth them with grief, which tendeth to their destruction, as delight procureth their preservation. So that heat, cold, dryness, and moisture, rejoice, help and comfort the sinews, or else grieve, hurt & endamage them, according as they are either well or ill applied unto them. The use of the sinews. Therefore the sinews were created, to the end they might be instruments of sense and motion, and that they should receive pleasure and pain. Now all these sorts of appetites, are not in the will and power of man, neither proceed they from his imagination. For whether he will or no, he shall be subject to hunger and thirst, and shall in the same manner feel and perceive things as they are applied unto him, if he be so disposed in body as he ought to be. True it is he may well abstain from eating & drinking, & from touching whatsoever he pleaseth, but this abstinence in the mean time will not take from him that appetite which he hath, but will increase it the more. For it cannot hinder, but that all the members will still desire their nourishment, and the body will always have this sense and feeling. And as for the sense of touching, it will always feel that which it toucheth, and even such as it is when it shallbe touched. But there are appetites of an other kind, which are bred without any touch at all, and follow the thought and imagination of a man. These are properly called affections, and have their seat in the heart. Therefore they must be distinguished from others that having sense of delectation and of grief, are placed in the stomach, or in the sinews, or in the rest of the body. Of the affections. Now by the affections, we mean properly those motions of the heart, which follow knowledge, and either seek after or reject, that which is offered unto them: so that according to the order of nature, knowledge goeth before these motions. Hereof it is, that we commonly say, that a man must know before he love, and that no man desireth that which he knoweth not. But before we enter into a deeper and more particular consideration of the affections of the soul, and of the heart, we must note this, that all knowledge is given of God to this end, The end of knowledge. to desire that Good which it knoweth, and in desiring to follow the same, until it hath joined and knit it unto itself, as near as is possible. For in this manner Good will be good unto it, and not otherwise. To this end sensual knowledge is given for sensual goods, and spiritual knowledge for those goods that are spiritual. And as the knowledge both of the one and the other is given to desire it, so also is it given that it might turn aside and flee from evil, which is contrary to good, to the end that the Will might not join itself thereunto, by which means evil would indeed become evil unto it, and could not otherwise be avoided. For as good could not be good unto us, but only so far forth as we did apply it and join ourselves thereunto, so fareth it also with evil. And because GOD hath not created beasts to enjoy any other good then corporal goods, and such as belong to their brutish life, which goeth not beyond this temporal life, therefore he hath not given them the knowledge or appetite of any other good. So that as they have no other knowledge but that which is sensual, so they have no other appetite but sensual, The best thingsin beasts are sensual. which is guided only by natural inclination, wherein they have nature only for their Mistress, which pricketh forward both their outward and inward senses without any direction at all of Understanding and of Reason. Therefore this sensual appetite common to all living creatures, cannot properly be called Will. For as we cannot call by the name of Understanding and Reason, that natural inclination which is given to beasts for their direction, seeing men only are endued with Understanding and Reason, Beasts have no Will. so is it with Will, the name whereof agreeth not to that sensual appetite, except we would call it sensual Will, in respect of the resemblance of Will, which it hath, wherein it differeth much from the Will in man: as the sequel of our speech requireth that we should now learn, to the end we may know the third kind of appetite which we set down in the beginning of this discourse, namely the voluntary appetite, which is proper and peculiar to man, and the subject of his Will. Thou shalt tell us therefore, AMANA, what Will is properly, what her actions are, what liberty and freedom she hath, and what power Reason may have over her. Of Will, and of the divers significations and uses of these words, Reason and Will: of the actions, freedom, and nature thereof: of the power which Reason may have over her. Chap. 34. AMANA. The love of GOD towards men hath always been, and is such, that albeit he hath just occasion to hate us as sinners, yet that hindereth him not from loving us always as men. For he considereth man otherwise in the nature and substance with which he created him, and as he is his work, then in that disorder and confusion, which after entered upon his nature by the work of Satan in him. Matth. 5. For this cause we see that he causeth his sun to shine aswell upon the evil as upon the good, sendeth rain to the one as well as to the other, and poureth many benefits upon all in general. But besides this love, whereof every one receiveth fruit, there is another more special towards his elect, whom he loveth not only as he loved us all in Adam the stock of mankind, and as his creatures created after his image, but loveth them also as regenerated and new creatures in jesus Christ his Son, the latter and just Adam, GOD and man, and the stock of spiritual men framed again by him to the image and similitude of God. Therefore we must unnderstand, that God hath and doth love men in regard of the good he hath put into them, (which is wrought chief through the benefit of spiritual regeneration) the remnant of which Good he still loveth. And in loving that he loveth himself, because he is the sovereign and only good, which is worthy to be loved in respect of itself. Whereby we may see, what is the true fountain of all love, and of all the desires, appetites and wills of all creatures. From whence the desires of all creatures ought to be derived. For they must all be drawn out of one and the same spring and fountain, namely the love and will of God, and that good which he loveth and willeth. And the greater the Good is, the more it ought to be loved, so that every Will should desire to join itself thereunto, to follow after it, and to have the fruition thereof. And because there can be no Good greater than God, therefore no other can be loved but that. So that whilst he loveth himself, he loveth all the good that may be, because there is none but in him and from him. Therefore this followeth necessarily, that as all good things proceed from him, so they must be all referred to him, and return thither as to the Wel-head, even as all waters return into the Sea from whence they came first of al. Having then learned of our former discourse, that God hath given to man understanding to know good, and will to desire and follow it, it is his duty always to refer all the good things he hath, unto him that is sovereign and eternal Good, and to account nothing good, as in truth it cannot be, but him that ought to be so accounted, and to look at him as the last and most blessed end. We understand then properly by Will, What Will is, and how it worketh. that faculty and virtue of the soul, whereby we desire that which is good, and eschew evil by the direction and guiding of reason. Therefore there are two actions of Will, whereof the first is that inclination to good by which it embraceth the same, and the second is the turning aside from evil. And when it is idle and inclineth to neither side, it is deprived of both these actions. Now although we said before, that reason held the sovereignty amongst the powers, virtues and offices of the soul, yet we must know, that reason reigneth not over Will as Lady and Princess, but only as Mistress to teach and show it, what it ought to follow, and what to fly from. For the will hath no light of itself, but is lightened by the mind, How reason is set over the Will. that is to say, by reason and judgement, which are joined with it, not to govern and turn it from one side to another by commandment and authority, either by force or violence, as a Prince or Magistrate, but as a counsellor or director, to admonish and to conduct it. And so the will desireth or refuseth nothing, which reason hath not first showed that it is to be desired or disdained. Therefore the act of Will proceedeth indeed from Will, but it is judged of and counseled by reason: so that a man may say, that it is as it were begotten by reason, and brought forth by Will. But that we deceive not ourselves in these names of reason and of Will, we are to know, that both of them are taken diversly, as the names of Mind and Understanding are. divers acceptions of the words, Reason & Will. For sometime they are taken for that virtue of understanding which is in the soul, and sometime for the action thereof and the thing which it doth understand: as when we say that we have the understanding of something. So reason is sometime taken for the mind that giveth direction and counsel, and for the will which obeyeth it, and restraineth the affections: and in this sense, it comprehendeth both the Understanding and the Will. But sometime it is taken only for that part, which understandeth and hath knowledge to conduct and guide, as now we must so take it, in making it the Mistress and counsellor of the Will. Besides, reason is also taken oftentimes for the arguments and discourses of reason, as when we say of a man, He hath good reason in that: or else, He hath proved his saying by good and pregnant reasons, that is to say, by good arguments. And if we take reason so, it signifieth not only that power and virtue of discoursing which is in the soul and in the mind, but also the act and effect thereof. The like may be said of this word Will. For it is commonly taken, not so much for that power and virtue which the soul hath to Will, as for the Will itself, which is the action and effect thereof: as when one speaking of tyrants saith, that their Will is all their reason. For than we mean, that they take nor Reason for their counsellor, neither follow the advice thereof, but only their Will, and that which pleaseth them. So then we use this word Will for that which proceedeth from it: Psal. 115. and so likewise it is often taken in the holy Scriptures, when they speak of the Will of God, whereby we do not understand that power of Will that is in him, but that which he willeth and commandeth us. Matth. 6. And therefore we crave that his Will may be done, and not that which we will. But speaking now of the Will of man, we take it not in this sense, but we use it for the power and virtue of Willing that is in the soul, which power is above the sensitive appetite, whereof we have already spoken. For we see by experience, that there are certain degrees of appetites, and that the appetite of the senses is subject to the Will, as I hope we shall entreat more at large in the sequel of our speech. The Will is the chiefest appetite● Wherefore the Will is the highest and most sovereign virtue of desiring, far above all other appetites, and that which worketh with liberty, after the mind hath showed unto it what it ought to follow, and what to eschew, what to make choice of, and what to refuse. The actions thereof are to Will, and not to Will: and the mean or middle thing which she hath between them twain, is to suspend her action, until she decline either on the one side or the other. And as concerning the natural disposition of the Will, it is to will that good which is truly good, or that which seemeth to be so: and to shun evil, either that which is evil in deed, The Will aimeth always at good. or that which it thinketh to be so. Now if she choose and follow evil for good, it followeth not therefore, but that she would always follow the good, as that which properly appertaineth unto her, and reject evil as her enemy. But the reason why she maketh choice of evil for good, is because she is deceived, taking one for another, which cometh to pass through the ignorance and corruption that is in the nature of man. For albeit she can will and not will that thing which is propounded unto her, yet she cannot simply will and not will one and the same thing all at one time, nor yet make choice of clean contraries. For she can desire nothing but only under some show of good, nor refuse any thing but under some show of evil. Wherefore it may well be, that it will not desire that which shall be showed under some appearance of good, but it cannot hate or reject it. Likewise it may peradventure abstain from rejecting or flying from that, which shall be presented before it with show of evil and not of good, but it cannot desire, love, and pursue the same. Whereupon it followeth, The Will is free and unconstrained. that our Will is at liberty and free, and cannot be constrained: yea God the Creator and Lord thereof would have it so, otherwise it should not be a Will. It is very true, that it followeth reason always, because the Will hath no light of itself, but only so far forth as it receiveth the same from reason, which guideth and directeth it. And therefore it never apply itself to any thing whatsoever, but hath reason always for a guide, whom it followeth. Nevertheless it is not so subject thereunto, as that it may compel it to follow all the reasons that are propounded unto it by reason, or tie it to any of them, but that always she hath her liberty to make choice of which reason she please, out of all those that are set before her. And so it is always a Will, although it change sometime, being persuaded by reasons to will when it was unwilling, or dissuaded from Will to be unwilling. But in the mean time she willeth whatsoever she will, and that as long as it pleaseth her to remain in one opinion. For not only no creature whatsoever is able to take from her that which GOD her Creator hath given her, but she cannot deprive herself thereof, no more than she may not be that which she is. For as God will have his image shine in the mind of man by understanding and wisdom, of which he hath made it partaker, so he will have his image also to shine in the Will by that freedom and liberty which he hath given unto it. Of the image of God in the Will. As therefore he cannot be constrained, but worketh and doth what pleaseth him with all liberty, as being a Sovereign that hath no superior, so he hath appointed, that the Will which he hath given to men and Angels, should be always frank and free, and not be subject to violence or constraint: to the end he might have them children, not slaves, because he requireth of them a voluntary obedience, and such a service as is not forced or constrained, but agreeable to his own nature. For as he doth nothing himself by constraint, so he will not constrain those by whom he will be obeyed: neither delighteth he in any service that is not voluntary and proceeding from a good heart, and from a sincere and pure affection towards him. Therefore seeing God hath so loved us, and done us so great honour, as to create us after his own image, and likeness, we are vile and ingrateful wretches, if we do not acknowledge the same, and cause our Will to be serviceable to him that hath bestowed it freely upon us: as we ought also to perform the like service unto him with our mind and reason, wherewith he hath endued us for the ruling and direction of the Will. But when our Will taketh any other object beside obedience to God, it proceedeth from the same cause that blindeth our mind and reason, namely sin, which reigneth in us through the corruption of our nature, as we have already touched it. Good is always the object of the Will. Nevertheless that which I have said is always true, that the will hath Good in such sort for her object, that she cannot truly & without dissembling Will that which is evil, if it hath no show or reason of some good. But notwithstanding she hath free liberty, yet is she so ordained of God, that she cannot will that which is evil, but only that which is good, whether it be good in truth, or in opinion only. For if she were not created and ordained of GOD to desire and follow after good, there would be no cause why she should love or desire virtue more than vice, or love God, rather than hate him. divers degrees in the actions of Will. But we must consider divers degrees in the actions of Will, and in the freedom thereof. For some there are whose heart and Will agree so together, that there is no dissimulation, neither any commandment of the Will either towards itself or towards any other, but it hearty desireth or refuseth that, which it seeketh after or escheweth. As we may say of an ambitious man, that he doth truly and with all his heart desire honour and glory, as also a covetous man doth riches. But there are other actions of the Will, wherein she commandeth herself, or else the inferior powers that are subject unto her: as we see in a man infected with the dropsy, who being very dry and thirsty, desireth greatly to drink. But this appetite that cometh from the senses of the body, is restrained by the Will that hath power over it, which knowing what hurt would issue thereof to the sick party, commandeth this appetite, and appointeth that he shall not drink. The reason why she will have it so, is, to the end that the patient might avoid greater evil than that which he endureth, knowing well, that to drink would hurt him more than help him, because the thirstiness would not be taken from him, How the W● commandeth the appetite. but increased. Wherefore although the sensual appetite putteth the patiented in mind to desire drink, yet Will following the judgement of Reason, opposeth itself against this appetite, and commandeth itself to abstain, & also the outward members, as namely the mouth not to drink, and the hands not to give it any drink. Now if it so fall out, that the Will give place to the appetite, it is always with her consent, and that because she agreeth rather unto the sensual appetite then unto Reason. Which agreement proceedeth of her impatiency and incontinency, because she hath not patience to stay for the better, but rusheth upon that pleasure, which at that present seemeth best unto her and nearest at hand. Therefore it is always requisite that the grace of God should govern our mind and will, to persuade them evermore to counsel and to embrace the best: otherwise we shall make choice of the worst, and of evil rather than of good. Which we shall easily understand, if we consider what good things the wisest and most virtuous men, guided only by the light of nature, are able to propound to themselves and to follow: and what difference in that point there is betwixt them, and those whom God doth guide and govern by his spirit. The discourse then of this matter belongeth to thee, ARAM. Of those good things, which both men, guided only by the light of nature, are able to propound to themselves, and to follow; and they also that are guided by the spirit of God: of the power and liberty of the Will in her actions, both external and internal. Chap. 35. ARAM. Among the heathen Philosophers there have always been some great personages endued with excellent doctrine, who seemed to have been led with a burning affection towards good and virtuous things: this no man can deny. But if we compare them that have had none but natural light, The difference betwixt the natural and regenerated man. with them who believing the word of life, have received that light, which the spirit of GOD hath kindled in their hearts and minds, we shall find very great difference betwixt them. For they that follow the light of nature, take not an infinite, spiritual and eternal good, which is God, for the object of that good which they desire, but a finite, carnal and temporary good, and that also no farther than their reason and sense judge it good for mankind, or for the society of men, or for themselves, and those whom they love. The like respect they have in eschewing evil, which they judge contrary to such a good. And yet there are very few that go so far, who give not themselves to virtue, rather for their own profit or glory, then for the love they bear to virtue, or to the benefit of the common society of men. And surely I think, that if glory had not more moved so many excellent men, as have been heretofore among the Grecians, Latins, and other heathen people and nations, than their love to virtue, and to things profitable for the common wealth, they would not willingly have incurred so great dangers to effect so many valiant deeds as Histories specify of them: neither would they have set virtue at so high a price, if no glory or profit should have redounded to them in following her, or at leastwise in seeming to seek after her. If any have been found to have done otherwise, as we read of some, it is to be attributed to a special grace that God hath bestowed upon them in their ignorance, more than to others. But yet all this would be nothing, or very little, seeing the good which the Will propoundeth to itself, and pursueth in this sort, is not the true and sovereign good, which of itself is able to make men blessed. We are then to know, What is the chief good that mere natural men seek after. that the wisest and most virtuous men, guided only by the light of natural reason, do not propound to themselves, nor seek after any other good then that, which consisteth in civil honesty, in worldly honour and glory, in this bodily life, and in the commodities thereof, and in those delights and pleasures, which their human sense and reason desire, according as some delight either in the knowledge of things, or in civil and moral virtues, or in honours, or in riches and in such like things. Yea the best that ever were among the Heathen, and the wisest of this world that are like unto them, never went farther, neither in deed could. For seeing they know not GOD truly, they can neither love him nor seek after him) either because they are not thoroughly persuaded that there is a God, or if they be sure of that, yet they stand doubtful what he is, whether he have care of men or no, and whether he hear and help them, when they call upon him. And if they be in adversity, than they love him much less. For if they think that their miseries come from their own nature, or at all adventure, they suppose they are not bound unto him, neither aught to love him, seeing he hath provided no better for their affairs. And if they think, that himself doth send them because of their sins, they are so far from loving him, that contrariwise they hate him, and storm against him: as it is most manifest by infinite blasphemies contained in the books of Heathen Poets, Historiographers, and Philosophers, aswell against God, as against his providence, judgements, and all his works, when they fell not out to their liking. Now if their Understanding was so blinded in the Knowledge of God, their Will was much turned out of the way. For it is always like to a ship carried hither and thither by divers tempests, which seeketh still some haven to arrive at, but can find none. So the Will seeking after the good which it desireth, runneth and skippeth from one to another without order, and can find no rest, except that heavenly light shine into the mind, which may teach it the true good, and frame it to the seeking and embracing thereof. What good men are taught to aim at by the heavenly light. Therefore when this light is in the spirit of man, it first presenteth to the Will that infinite good, namely God, in whom alone she may satisfy herself, and then all other good things that depend of that, all which she desireth, every one in his order. Thus shall God have the first place, and the next his creatures, all which we ought to love so far forth as he hath created them, and so consequently are good. And if we place God in the highest degree of love, as the sovereign good, with whose love we ought to be as it were wholly swallowed up, we will love nothing but in him and by him, and for his sake: and consequently we will desire nothing but according to his Will, because we can Will or desire nothing but that which we shall love, and we shall love nothing, but that which we ought to love, neither with any other affection nor to any other end. Which is the proper effect of the spirit of God in them that are regenerated and guided by him. And thus when the darkness of our mind is driven out by light from heaven, which is brought unto it by jesus Christ, and the Will inflamed by the holy Ghost, then do our hearts rejoice in the goodness of God, and our conscience resteth therein, then do we love him, and begin to obey him, not desiring any other thing. Therefore we beseech him to guide & govern us, to reform us daily more & more after his own image and similitude, to the end we may be made conformable to him both in mind & will, How we must carry ourselves both in prosperity and adversity. & become true temples for him to dwell in. And whatsoever he sendeth us, whether it be prosperity or adversity, we take and receive all as from his hand, giving him thanks in prosperity, & not abusing or extolling ourselves against him: and calling upon him in adversity without murmuring or despiting his majesty, which we adore always, whether we understand & comprehend his judgements, or no. Likewise we are led by him to love all good things, according to that order which is showed unto us by his heavenly wisdom, namely, other men made after the image of God as we are, & those virtues, life, & things that are agreeable unto him, desiring them for the love of God, & knowing that we serve him in the lawful use of all these things, yielding praises and thanks unto him, as to the author & creator of them. Nevertheless it cometh to pass that we see oftentimes a very great confusion in the manners & works, even of the holiest & best men that may be: but that is when God withdraweth from them his spirit & grace, Of the frailty of man's estate. although it be never so little a while, or when he doth not manifest & show forth his virtue & power in them. For without God we can do nothing, & through him nothing is impossible unto us. It is very certain, that there remaineth always natural infirmity & corruption in man, and that the mind, reason & memory may be troubled by the affections of the heart, which resembleth a fiery surnce, & is like to a thick smoke ascending out of a great fire which would dim the eyes & make them as it were blind. And when the light of the mind is thus darkened, reason cannot discourse so well, nor judgement judge so uprightly, nor memory retain so firmly, or bring forth so readily that which it hath kept, as if none of them were thus hindered with darkness, which compasseth about the light that aught to guide them. Now if there be such a let & impediment in regard of the mind, the Will is much more troubled by this fire of affections that heateth & kindleth it, whereby it is made a great deal more untoward to follow the counsel & advise of reason, than reason is well affected to admonish and counsel it in that which is to be followed, or to be fled. And when these two principal parts & powers of the soul are thus troubled and moved, it is no marvel if man forget God & himself, & if with all his soul & body he turn aside from that which he ought to follow after. As contrariwise there is no doubt, but that as long as the celestial & eternal father disperseth his divine light into our minds by his son, who is his eternal word and wisdom, preparing them by his holy spirit to receive the same, and by this means also kindleth the heart and Will with the heat thereof, disposing and framing them to follow this light, no doubt I say, but there will ensue a good agreement and great conformity of the mind and heart, of the Reason and Will, and of all the affections, yea of all the senses and members of man. But let us return to the sequel of our speech, which hath an especial respect unto the Will, we have then to consider more narrowly of the power and freedom of the Will, both in her internal and external actions. For the first, Of the power of the Will in all actions. if the question be of deliberating about any thing, it is in the choice of the Will to propound the same to the mind, to advise and consult thereupon, or otherwise not to propound the same unto it. After whilst the matter is in deliberation, she may command either to prosecute the same, or to defer it to some other time, or to give it over quite, and to turn the mind to some other thing, as it were a Prince among his council. And if the consultation be finished, and sentence given by judgement, yet may the will stay itself from desiring and following after that which is counseled, and judged to be good by reason. So that the whole consultation lieth in the liberty and choice of Will. For men are not drawn by an immutable violence of nature as beasts are, but reason inquireth what way is to be taken or left, and weigheth and examineth what good or evil is in every thing, Therefore Will may go about again with that which was once deliberated of, to the end the first conclusion be not approved & stayed in, but that greater inquiry may be made, to find out, if it may be, some better or more profitable thing. And thus when many things are showed & set before her, she may choose what pleaseth her, although it be not that which was best approved by judgement, and which reason upon very evident arguments counseled her to follow. For if there be another side that hath some show of good, albeit never so small, she turneth to that if she please: so that upon one only conjecture, or opinion of good, she will lay hold upon that, and reject the other side in which peradventure the true good is to be found. The chief cause whereof is in the corruption of our nature, and in those impediments of good discoursing, and of upright judging, whereof we have already heard, and which hinder reason and judgement divers and sundry ways. And this also taketh place in respect of Will, which likewise hath great occasions offered to beguile and deceive itself, because all the affairs of men are intermingled with good and evil things. Therefore it is very hard to be able to discern and separate them well one from another. For men being compounded of divers natures, namely of a body and of a soul, they propound also diversity of good & evil things unto themselves: & because they know corporal and terrestrial things better than spiritual and eternal things, Why men prefer earthly things before heavenly. therefore they prefer them oftentimes before the other. Which is the cause why there are so many that love this life a great deal better, and those outward good things belonging thereunto, than they do eternal life, and those goods, which are able to lead men thither, and give them full fruition thereof when they come thither. Therefore in so great diversity of good and evil things, it is no marvel if there came nothing into deliberation, wherein reason findeth not some good or evil, which in the end it counseleth us to follow or to avoid, according to the circumstances of times, places, persons, qualities and other such like things. It cometh to pass also oftentimes, that Will refuseth all counsel and exhortation to do that only which she pleaseth, Will sometime rejecteth all counsel. thereby to show that she is Lady and Mistress and subject to none. And being mounted up to that pride, she accounteth this Lordship which she taketh to herself to be a great good, and so maketh known her power and magnificence, as it were a tyrannical prince, making choice in the mean time of a false kind of good, which is no way good, but a very great evil. And thus much concerning the liberty of the Will in her internal actions: which freedom also appeareth plainly enough in the outward actions. For after she hath liked of a thing, What freedom the Will hath in outward actions. she may put it in execution, or stay execution: yea after she hath begun, she may give it clean over, or do not so much, or so speedily as she might. And although it falleth out oftentimes, that men are hindered from executing their Will, yea are forced and compelled to do the clean contrary, yet their Will, if we consider the matter well, is neither hindered, forced or constrained. For that keepeth it not from willing still that which it pleaseth: but the violence offered outwardly, stayeth the effects and execution thereof. Hereof it is that we commonly say, that a man's Will is taken for his deed, although it be not put in execution. Now to conclude our speech, we know that the Will hath hindrances to let her from choosing those good things which she ought to follow, and refusing those evils she ought to eschew and avoid. For Reason being appointed as Mistress, to guide and direct Will by her judgement, The near conjunction of Reason and Will. the selfsame things that move Reason and judgement, do move Will also, as if the one touched the other, or as if there were a certain knitting and joining of them together, not unlike to the links of a chain, of which if ye move or touch one, the like is done to the others that are near unto it, by reason of the conjunction they have one with another. We ought also to know, that although the Will often choose evil in stead of good, yet it ceaseth not therefore ever to desire good naturally, which is most fit and agreeable to the nature thereof: but it is deceived in that it hath no skill to discern between true and false goods, Eu●● spirits have power over the Will. and to distinguish the greater from the less. And as we have heard, that evil spirits may trouble and move the fantasy and mind, so no doubt they can do the like towards the heart and Will, to induce them to evil, and to drive them to do greater things then weak nature would do of itself, if it were not helped by them, even to cause them to commit such crimes as nature abhorreth. Therefore we must without ceasing watch and pray that we enter not into temptation, and if we be tempted, that we fail not, neither be overcome. And this we may assuredly believe we shall obtain, if through regeneration by the spirit of GOD our mind be taught, and our Will guided by his light. Now then having spoken enough of Understanding and of Will, which are the principal powers of the soul, let us come to the affections thereof: and first it shall be good for us to consider of the distinction that ought to be made betwixt all these faculties of the soul, and between their seats and instruments, which they have in the body. But we shall learn these things of thee, ACHITOB. Of the distinction that ought to be between the Understanding and knowledge, and the Will and affections in the soul, and between the seats and instruments which they have in the body: of the agreement that is between the heart and the brain. Chap. 36. ACHITOB. The heavens, the earth and all the elements, the stones, plants, beasts & all the other creatures that want reason & understanding, obey God in their kind, but yet they know him not: & the obedience which they yield unto him proceedeth not of any knowledge they have of his will, or of judgement in them to discern good from evil, but only so far forth as they are drawn by their natural inclination in those things that concern their nature. The difference of man's obedience to God from that of other creatures. But Angels and Men, in whom God would have his image to shine in every part of them, and after all sorts, were created by him of that nature, that he would be known of them, and that they should follow his Will, not without Understanding and judgement thereof, nor without agreement of their wills with his. Therefore he hath given them a nature that is partaker of Understanding, and prescribed unto them rules of judgement and of certain knowledge, which are unto them as it were laws ordained by a sovereign Prince for the ruling of his subjects. And to the end that these laws should not be in vain, he hath placed in man a Will to execute them, and an affection of joy, that is brought to him by means of the good which he receiveth or expecteth, when he obeyeth these laws that command nothing but just things. So that he would have the nature of man to lead a joyful life, and by this means be preserved, that he might solace himself in the knowledge of God his Creator, and in obeying him, settle and rest himself in him. As contrariwise, it pleased him to place there an affection of sadness, to take vengeance of rebellion against his laws, and of the transgression of them, to the end there might be a flame of anger and grief to destroy that nature, when it doth not conform itself to the rule of his divine wisdom and will. Hereby we know by experience, what difference there is between a joyful life, and that which is sad & full of grief, and how joy preserveth and maintaineth the one, and sorrow consumeth and extinguisheth the other. But to the end we may fully understand these things, and be able to judge aright of the divers powers, virtues and offices of the soul, we must diligently consider, that as GOD hath distinguished the Understanding from the Will and affections, and the Animal virtue and life from the Vital, so also he hath given them divers seats and instruments in the body. Difference betwixt Knowledge and Affections. There is likewise great difference betwixt Understanding and Knowledge, and the Will and Affections, as we see it by experience in common life. For it falleth out often, that after we know a man, we either love him or hate him. And if at the first we loved him well, yet after he is known unto us, we may fall to hate him: or if we first hated him, afterward upon better knowledge we may receive him into our love. Now although these affections of love and of hatred be thus mutable in us, yet the self same knowledge remaineth always with us. For if we did not still know him, we could neither love nor hate him: because as a man cannot love without knowing the thing loved, so he cannot hate that which is unknown. Therefore it is no difficult matter to judge, that the Understanding differeth from the Will and affections, and that they are distinct offices, and several properties and virtues of the soul: which have also their divers seats and instruments. For the internal senses are joined with that power which the Soul hath to know: and the heart with the power of the Will and Affections. Hereof it is, that we see many endued with great knowledge of honest and virtuous things, but they have no good affection to follow after them and to put them in practice: Of the discord between the heart and the brain. so that their heart agreeth not with their brain, nor their will and affections with their understanding & reason. Contrariwise, there are others that have not so great knowledge of goodness and of their duty, and yet they have a good affection and Will to do well, but for want of understanding what is right and just, they observe and keep it not according to that measure of desire which is in them. Where we see again how and in what sort there is no good agreement between the brain and the heart, and between those powers and virtues of the soul, which we have already named. A comparison. So that we may compare the former sort of men to one that hath eyes to guide him, but no legs or feet to go upon, or if he have any, yet he will not set them on work. As for the other sort, they are like to blind men that long to go and to walk, and have legs to carry them, but they cannot go whither they would, because they have neither eyes nor sight to direct them, nor guides to lead them. Now by the consideration of these two sorts of men, we may well conclude and judge with ourselves what they are, that want all these things mentioned by us, because they have neither sound knowledge of the truth and of that which is good, nor Will and desire to have any, nor any affection to follow that which is good: whom I would compare to them that are blind, and withal have both hand and feet lame at one time. But this matter may yet be understood better, if we make this our speech to agree with that which Saint Paul writeth to the Romans, Rom. 1. 18. where he sayeth, That the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness, and unrighteousness of men, which withhold the truth in unrighteousness. For we may understand by truth, those true and natural impressions of the knowledge of GOD and of his law, and of good and honest things which are in men as beams of the divine wisdom, shining in that part of the soul whereby he knoweth. But because the Will and the affections of the heart agree not with this knowledge, and there are no divine motions, nor celestial flames to stir up and to kindle the heart with the love of God, and to procure it to follow after that knowledge, therefore men are detained in unrighteousness, and yield not unto God that honour and obedience that they own unto him. Wherein they show themselves unthankful and unrighteous. And therefore the Apostle expounding himself saith by and by after, verse 21. That when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful, but became vain in their imagination, and their heart void of understanding was full of darkness. Whereby he declareth, that their ingratitude and naughty heart was the cause why they abused that understanding and knowledge which they had received of God, and afterward also he deprived them of these excellent gifts of his grace, which he attributeth to the heart for certain reasons which we are to note. For we may see in many places of the Scripture, and in their writings and exhortations that follow the doctrine and style thereof, How the Scripture taketh the word heart. that the heart is often taken for the seat of the mind, of the understanding and of reason, as well as for the affections of the soul. Nevertheless the Philosophers and they that follow them in such discourses, attribute these sovereign powers of the soul only to the brain, which they make the seat of them, as we have sufficiently showed heretofore: and as for the affections of the soul they assign the seat of them to the heart. Now one body hath not two, but one soul. Therefore although it have many faculties, powers, virtues, and offices, yet they are all comprehended under those two and depend of them, even as in one body there are many members appointed to divers operations. Now because reason ought to be the Governess and Mistress of the affections, it is necessary they should agree together. For as reason guideth before, the affections will follow after. Therefore we may always judge of reason by the affections which it ought to govern, as of the government of a good Prince by the estate of his subjects, & of a good father of a family by those of his household. Matth. 22. 40. Moreover, seeing the affections proceed from the heart, there is the seat of that love which we ought to bear as well towards God, as towards men, which comprehendeth the whole law of God and all justice. For he that loveth God, is not only afraid to offend and displease him, but desireth also to serve & please him: and he that loveth his neighbour, doth not only abstain from procuring him any dishonour or loss, but laboureth also to advance his honour and profit. Therefore if the mind be lightened and inflamed with divine light, and the reason also that ruleth therein, than the heart will wax hot, and burn with the love of God and of his neighbour. Of the agreement that ought to be between the mind and the heart. Which if it fall out so, the heart will not be slack in showing forth those heavenly motions that are within it, & in giving matter to the soul to glorify God, and to the tongue and mouth, which will speak out of the abundance thereof. Likewise there will be an accord and consent between it, and the voice and tongue, which then will utter nothing but the truth. And this is the cause of that which we were taught before, namely, that God by his providence and wise counsel hath joined near unto the heart the chief instrument of the voice, which is the lungs: as the other instruments that are higher, are lodged near to the brain, and chiefly the tongue, as the Orators and Ambassadors of Kings are placed next unto them. Wherefore if man's nature had not been corrupted through sin, but had continued perfect and sound, there would always have been a goodly concord and consent between the heart and the brain, the voice and the tongue, the reason and the affections. Why the heart is taken sometime for the seat of reason. Next, we must note, that seeing the heart is the first member of the whole body that receiveth life, and then giveth the same to others, as also the last that leaveth life: and seeing it is the shop of all the vital spirits, without which neither the brain, nor the rest of the members can have life, or perforume their duties, it is not without cause, that this member is taken to be as it were the seat not only of the affections, but also of reason. Therefore it is taken in the Scripture one while for the mind, as when Moses saith to the people of Israel, Deut 29 4. Yet the Lord hath not given you a heart to know: and another while it is taken for the affections, as when our Saviour Christ saith, Matth. 22. 37. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. For we see here how he putteth a difference between the heart and the mind. Sometime they are put indifferently one for another, or one for both, especially the heart, as when the Lord said to Solomon, 1. King. 3. 12. Behold I have given thee a wise and an understanding heart, the heart is taken for the senses and mind, as it appeareth very evidently. For the same cause Saint Paul continuing his speech of God's punishment above mentioned, against the ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, he addeth to that before recited, this saying: Rom. 1. 24, 25. Wherefore also God gave them up to their hearts lusts, unto uncleanness, to defile their own bodies between themselves: which turned the truth of God unto a lie. In which place we see how the Apostle maketh the heart to be the seat of the appetites and of the affections, and how he calleth the unruly and disordered affections of the heart by the name of lusts; for so he expoundeth himself by and by after, calling them Vile Affections, unto which God gave them up. Whereupon we will note this, that the natural affections of the heart, which prick it forward to the desire of pleasure, and which minister pleasure unto it, Pleasure of it own nature a gift of God. should be no sin at all unto men, but a benefit given them of God in the perfection of their nature, were it not that by reason of the corruption which hath raken hold of it, such desires and affections cannot contain themselves within the limits of their sound nature: but there is always some excess even in the perfectest, and that being sin, is properly called evil concupiscence, because it continually provoketh us to evil, and causeth us to go beyond the bounds which God had set to our affections. Whereof it is come to pass, that that which should be a benefit unto men in their natural pleasures, is become hurtful unto them. Now forasmuch as the order of our discourses hath brought us to the tractate of affections which have their seat in the heart, before we go any further, we must say somewhat of the nature of this part of the body, as we have done of the brain, to the end we may the better know the seat and instruments of the vital power and virtue of the soul, and of the will and affections, as those which belong to the animal power and virtue, have been declared unto us. Let us then hear ASER handle this matter. Of the nature and composition of the heart, and of the midriff: of the tunicles or skinny coverings of the breast, and of the Pericardion, or cawl about the heart: of the motion, office, and use of the lungs, of the heart, and of the arteries. Chap. 37. ASER. It is not without good and just cause, that God hath ordained that reason should lodge in the highest part of the frame of man, and that the will and affections should lodge lower, namely, in the heart. For by this order he would admonish and tell us, what part and power of the soul ought to bear greatest sway therein, and that understanding and wisdom, which teach us the true rules according to which we must square our whole life, aught to reign and have the first place, The end of man's creation. seeing the principal cause wherefore God hath created us, is to know him, to the end that knowing him we should love and honour him as we ought: and as for the affections, they are to be 〈◊〉 and governed by wisdom and understanding. Wherefore if this order appointed by God be confounded and turned topsie turuy in us, he causeth us to feel and know it well enough. For although sin be the cause, yet the impression of that divine image, which God hath set in the nature of man, cannot be so wholly defaced in us, but there will always remain very evident and wonderful testimonies thereof. And therefore presently after we have overthrown this order, and that the will lifteth herself up against reason, even than doth reason condemn that fault of hers, and compelleth the heart to take vengeance thereof, and to punish in it herself disobedience and rebellion, with great torments and griefs: insomuch that either it must consume away and perish, or else return to his due order and place, and the will must know, that she hath a mistress, not only to teach her, but also to correct her when she shall do amiss, and pervert her order. But let us speak of that, which more particularly concerneth so wonderful a part of the body, namely, the heart. First we must remember how we divided before the internal parts of the frame and building of man into three bellies and lodgings, of which the first, I mean the brain, Of the second belly of the body. was showed unto us with all his parts. Now we will come to the second, which is in the midst between the other two, namely, in the breast, which containeth the vessels and instruments of the vital faculty and virtue, and those are the heart, the arteries, the lungs, the rough artery, with the appurtenances thereof. Hear of it is that the name of the heart is oftentimes taken in the holy Scriptures for the midst, Ezech. 27. 4. jonas 2. 4. matth. 12. 40. or for the inward and secret part of a thing, as when it speaketh of the heart of the earth and of the sea, and of the heavens. Now, as we have heard how reason hath his throne and judicial seat in the brain, what ministers and what secretary he hath near about him, and in what chambers and lodgings they are placed, as also what ministers and officers are joined with him for the execution of his judgements and decrees, namely, the will and the affections: so also we must consider what manner of lodgings and habitations are assigned to these latter sort in the heart. And although these officers and ministers are not always obedient to reason, but rise up against it oftentimes, and do clean contrary to that which it judgeth and appointeth to be done, yet by that order which God set down, they were to obey, and to agree well amongst themselves, as he showeth it by the disposition of their lodgings. We have heard before, that the heart and the lungs are lodged within the breast, as in a strong hold, and are compassed round about therewith for their safeguard and defence. But we must note, that there is a partition called Diaphragma by the Grecians, Of the midriff and of his use. which separateth the 〈◊〉 of the vital parts, from the nourishing parts that are in the third belly and lodging of the body, of which we will speak hereafter in his order. This partition is above in respect of the natural instruments appointed for nourishment, and beneath in regard of the spiritual instruments that serve the vital part. And because it is a great round muscle of the breast about the end of the neither part thereof, it hath two uses, of which the first and greatest is to be an instrument of breathing: the second is to help to purge and expel the excrements of the body. Of the skins of the breast and of their use. Next to that there is a tunicle or skin which is very thin and slender, much like to a Spider's web, & is spread over the whole capacity of the breast, out of which two others proceed that divide it throughout, to the end there might be two distinct places of receipt, that if a man had some great wound in one part thereof, whereby the office of respiration and breathing which it hath, should utterly perish, yet the other part that is unhurt, might at leastwise retain the one half. These skins serve also to cover and bind together all the vessels and instruments contained within the breast: and the former of them, which hemmeth in the ribs, serveth chiefly to defend the lungs on that side where it is joined to the bones of the ribs, to the end they should not touch the bare bones, when they execute their office, Of the cawl of the heart. namely, when we breath. Concerning the heart, it hath for his next dwelling house a membrane or skin called by the Grecians Pericardion, which signifieth as much as if in our language we should say in a word, a compasse-heart. And therefore this skin is made of the same fashion the heart is, namely, very large and ample beneath, but afterward it narroweth by little and little, so that it endeth pointwise, Of the fashion of the heart. being in proportion like to a pine apple or to a pyramid, which is the figure of a flame of fire. Whereby it seemeth that God hath made the heart of this fashion to admonish us, that it is the place of that natural fire which is in the body, and appointed to give it so much natural heat as is necessary for the life thereof. This skin, which is also called the little closet of the heart, is of such capacity, that it is severed from the same on every side as much as is requisite, that his motion might in no wise be impeached. Some think, that there is some water within this vessel, Of the water in the cawl of the heart. or some moisture like to a dew to water the heart, that it should not dry up through the great heat that cometh of continual motion, in which it is without ceasing. Now because this humour cannot be seen but only in dead bodies, there be that think it is made there only after death, through the exhalation and gathering together of the spirits, which are there dissolved. And in deed it seemeth to be a hard matter to know this by Anatomy, because commonly it is not practised but upon dead bodies. And although a man would try the experiment upon quick and living bodies, yet they would be always dead before he should come to that part, or at leastwise there would be such a change and alteration, that it would be very hard for a man to give a right judgement. Nevertheless this might be known by cutting up that part in some beast or other. For there is always some moisture found there even before it be stark dead, although indeed it cannot live long after that part is opened. But let us return to that which we begun to speak of the heart, which being the root and fountain of natural heat, disperseth it abroad by the arteries into the whole body, and giveth life to every part thereof. Of the office of the heart. For albeit the instruments of respiration serve the voice, yet they were created principally for the heart's sake, that the natural heat which is in it, might be refreshed, increased and fed by them. For this cause hath the Divine providence made the lungs to be as it were the forge and shop of respiration, to this end, that the air without might be sent even to the heart, Of the lungs and of their use. for the causes and ends before spoken of. For the air that is to be brought to the heart, is first prepared in the lungs, to the end it might moderate the heat of the heart and spirits, and not enter in thither either too hot, or too cold, or in too great abundance, whereby it might be damnified or quite choked up. Therefore hath God made the flesh and substance of the lungs very light, soft and spongy, more than any other part of the body, so that it holdeth much of the nature of the air, and that for two notable causes. For first, seeing the lungs have not their motion of themselves, neither are fastened to the body to receive motion from it, it was needful to have them of such matter, that they might be easily moved and follow the motion of the breast. Next, they will receive the air more easily without any violence, if at any time it enter in vehemently and in great quantity. To conclude this point, How the lungs cover the heart. they are so seated in regard of the heart, that they wrap it and cloth it both on the right side and on the left, and serve to defend it against all the neighbour-bones near about it. But here we are to note the agreement and mutual relation, which the heart hath with the heavens, in that as the first motion of the whole world beginneth by the heavens, How the heart agreeth with the heavens. of which all the other motions that are in nature do depend, so the heart is that member in man's body, which first receiveth life and motion, and which is the wellspring and fountain thereof: whereupon also it is the first that liveth, and the last that dieth. Of the arteries and their office. And because God hath created it to put into it the vital faculty and virtue from whence the life of living creatures proceedeth, he hath also appointed the arteries, who receiving their original from the heart, are afterward distributed and spread throughout all the members of the body, as the sinews and veins are, to give unto the air and vital spirits necessary for life, even as the blood is likewise distributed by means of the veins that come from the liver, to nourish them withal, and as sense and motion are carried by the sinews that are derived from the brain and marrow of the back bone, as we have already showed. Therefore as the air hath his motion, and the winds their course, even such as GOD hath appointed them in the whole body of this great world: How the vital spirits agree with the air and winds. so we see that the air and vital spirits are in man's body, which is the little world, as winds that have their course and passages therein, to be carried unto all the members, and to be distributed and communicated unto them by means of the arteries. Hereof it is that they heave and beat in those places where arteries are appointed to be, so that by their peace and quietness, Physicians judge of the virtue and strength of the heart, and consequently of the whole body, of health and sickness, of life and death, and of the whole position thereof. Therefore the heart hath a double motion to serve for this use: which I speak, because it hath yet a third motion and that of another nature, Of the double motion of the heart, and the uses thereof. of which we will speak hereafter. But as for this first double motion which is here mentioned, it is so called because the one is made when the heart giveth out, and the other when it shrinketh in. For when it extendeth itself forth, then is it refreshed and cooled thereby, and when it gathereth inward and restraineth itself, then doth it expel and drive out those fuliginous and smoky excrements, which otherwise would stifle it. This twofold motion is natural, proceeding from the proper nature of the heart, and not voluntary as that of the muscles is, which is governed by the motion of the brain and sinews that come from it. For the heart hath his filaments or small threads, apt and convenient for that purpose. Now this motion serveth not only for the uses already spoken of, but also for the nourishing of the vital spirit, I mean to draw the blood wherewith it is nourished, and also to prepare food for the lungs, thereby to return such mutual help unto them as it receiveth from them. For as the lungs serve to send breath unto it, thereby to cool it and to further it in the execution of that office which it hath, An admonition to mutual love. so the heart serveth to nourish and feed the lungs. Whereby we have a goodly adverticement concerning that mutual agreement that ought to be in us, and of that reciprocal help which we own one to an other, and how we ought to acknowledge the good turns that are done unto us, and do the like again to them, according to that ability which every one shall have so to do. For if we deal not in that sort, it will be all one with us in human society, as if one should separate in our body the heart from the lungs, that the one might not do his duty towards the other: which questionless would cause the death and overthrow of the whole body. Moreover, we must note, that between these two motions of the heart now spoken of, there is some small space, in which there is a little rest: and then doth the heart restrain itself and draw from all sides round about the air which is drawn in by the lungs, which it enjoyeth and hath use of. And for this cause the heart, whose flesh is hard and can hardly suffer, hath three kinds of filaments called Fibres, which serve for all these motions. Thus you see the heart that is lord of man's life, how he hangeth as it were in his coffer, and withdraweth himself into his chamber or closet, being in a manner separated from the rest of the body to which he giveth life, but only that he is joined thereunto by veins, arteries, and sinews, which he useth as pipes, some to receive the benefits that come unto him from others, & some to distribute his good things by. Wherein we have a fair resemblance of that mutual communicating which ought to be among men. For although the heart be as the fountain of life, which it imparteth to all the rest of the members and parts of the body, yet can it not live alone, without those necessary helps of the other members unto which it is serviceable. Now we are to consider the substance, situation and countepoize thereof, with the nature and use of the vital spirit: which shall be the matter subject of thy discourse, AMANA. Of the substance, situation and counterpoise of the heart: of the nature and use of the vital Spirit, and of the forge, vessels and instruments thereof: of the sundry doors and pipes of the heart, and of their uses. Chap. 38. AMANA. All men, how ignorant and brutish soever they be, carry about with them in their hearts a great testimony, that they have both a God and a judge, who approveth that which is good, and punisheth the evil. For although they never heard one word of his word, yet they cannot be ignorant of this, which they sensibly feel and know by experience in themselves, that nothing but evil can befall them for evil, howsoever it be long a coming, and that they cannot feel the evil which their sin hath brought upon them, but they will repent them for committing it, and wish it had never been done. This is natural Divinity, which no body can be ignorant of. Whereunto Saint john leading us, saith very well, If our heart condemn us, 1. john 3. 20. God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things. And we see that repentance ordinarily followeth sin, and that a sinner can not but feel some heaviness and grief. Yea nature itself teacheth us, when we are displeased for some thing whereof we repent us, Whereof the striking of the breast arose. to strike our breast, because the heart is within it, as also to hang down our eyes for shame. But the vexation, sadness and sorrow, which after the fault committed, a man is stricken with, because of the hurt that taketh hold of him, and the punishment he expecteth or endureth already, serveth not but for a continual torment unto him, as if he were in a hell, except he change his mind, amend his fault and return to God again, and so betake himself again to that place and order of his, which God had assigned him. Behold what good instructions we have in ourselves, which ought to prick us forward to goodness, and draw us back from wickedness: especially our heart beareth us certain testimony of that which is acceptable in the sight of God. Now as we have heard, Of the substance of the heart. that the form thereof is aptest for the motion it hath, so the substance & matter whereof it is made, is a kind of flesh that hath none like it in all the other parts of the body. For it is needful it should be so thick and fast, that it may the better discharge that office and duty that is laid upon the heart. The situation of the heart. On the other side, it is so seated in the breast, that the foundation and foot thereof is directly in the midst of it: but the narrow end of it bendeth somewhat towards the left-side. Which is done in regard of two great commodities, whereof the one is, that it should not rush against the bones of the breast: the other, that it should heat the left side the more, seeing the right side is helped by the heat of the liver, which is on that side. And although the left part of the heart be very big, and hard, and consequently more heavy than the right, which is more subtle, thin and soft, and therefore lighter, nevertheless God hath given it such a counterpoise, Of the counterpoise of the heart. that both sides are of equal weight: so that although there be no ligament or band to tie it unto the other parts that are near about it, yet without inclining or bending any one way more than other, it hangeth in the midst of the vessel and skin that compasseth it round about. For the left part, which of it own nature is heaviest, containeth in it a lighter matter, namely, the vital spirit, and the right side that is not so heavy hath in it a more heavy matter, which is the blood. Whereby we see how the providence of God hath so well framed the counterpoise, that both parts are equal, like to an even and just pair of balance. From whence also we may take a good lesson concerning the uprightness that ought to be in our heart and will, A good lesson for every one. and in all our affections, & with what heart we ought to follow the ordinances of God, & that way which he showeth us in his word▪ how we should continue and abide steadfast therein, Deuter. 5. ezech. 20. and turn neither to the right hand nor the left, as we are often commanded in the holy Scriptures. Moreover, forasmuch as the skin that compasseth the heart▪ hath the bones of the breast on the one side, & the lungs on the other, it was requisite that it should be of a matter so well tempered, that it might receive no harm by the hardness of the bones, & on the other side should not be so hard as to be able to hurt the lungs, which are of as soft & tender a flesh as any is in all the body. Which teacheth us sufficiently, that the providence of God hath forgotten nothing in any respect. Of the two void places in the heart, and of their use. But we must further know, that there are two capacities or hollow places in the heart distinguished one from another by a partition, the one being on the right side, the other on the left. That place on the right side serveth to receive the blood that cometh from the liver to the heart by veins, both for the nourishing of itself and of the lungs, and for the generation of the vital spirits, whose forge and shop is in the other void place on the left side, where the hart doth exercise his chief office, which is to engender the vital spirits of the finest and thinnest blood, which resolveth itself there, as if it came of the sweat that proceedeth out of the right capacity. What the vital spirit is. Now the vital spirit is as it were a most bright and lively flame, like to the celestial nature, which carrieth heat & life to the whole body, and is the instrument of the chief actions & works thereof. Of the great artery. In this left hollow place there is a great artery, which is as it were the stock of all the arteries in the body, which a little from the heart divideth itself into two branches, whereof the one ascendeth upward, to carry the vital spirit into the upper parts of the body: the other, which is some what bigger, descendeth downward. By means of these arteries, which are as it were the pipes of the heart, the greatest benefit of all is communicated to all parts of the body. Now because the arteries and veins have need one of an others help, they meet one another, & are so linked and joined together, that the arteries are seldom alone without the veins. For the arteries being joined unto the veins do give them air and spirit, which through the vital heat stirreth the blood, and helpeth to bring it to perfection, and to preserve it. In like manner the arteries suck some small quantity of blood out of the veins, whereby the vital spirit is carried, A●example of mutual succour. sprinkled, and increased. Wherein we have again a notable example and goodly pattern of that mutual communicating, that aught to be among men▪ without which neither nature nor human society can be preserved: the like also hereof we see between the heart and the lungs, in which there are pipes that pass from the one to the other for their mutual helping and succouring one of an other. For the Arterial vein, that proceedeth out of the right side of the hear●, carrieth the blood to the lungs to nourish it: and the veiny artery, which cometh out of the left side of the heart, carrieth air unto it from the lungs to refresh it. For after it is brought to the lungs by the artery or windpipe, Of the veiny ●●●ery. the lungs communicate the same unto the heart. Likewise by that same veiny artey, the overheated air and fumes are carried from the heart: and serveth beside to carry the spirit and the arterial blood unto the lungs to heat them. Therefore this artery is not altogether so thick as the rest are, nor so thin as the veins, to the end it may easily enlarge or straighten itself, or give and receive the air, and that through hardness it hinder not the motion of the lungs, as also that the foggy blood may not evaporate and sweat through. For this cause it is called the veiny artery, because it holdeth of the nature both of an artery and of a vein, and hath this office belonging properly unto it, to carry the air and the spirit. There are also in the heart other small pieces, Of the doors and pipes of the heart. which Anatomists distinguish from it, as the two little ears, the right and the left, which are as it were little doors, as there is also in all the pipes thereof, which are so small, that uneath may they be discerned by the eyes. These doors and pipes that are in them serve partly to this end, that when the heart sucketh such blood as is necessary for itself, the vein wherewith it draweth should not break, through any overgreat, vehement, and sudden attraction: and partly, that the air might enter in more gently and better wrought, according as need requireth. For this cause also it is, why the heart doth not draw the air immediately from the mouth, both because if this space were not between, it could not draw so much as it wanteth, and so would be choked, as also because it should receive it in too cold, whereupon it would be greatly hurt. Therefore it hath pipes, passages, and instruments, not only to bring this air unto it, as it is brought to the lungs, but also to dispense and prepare it as is most convenient for it, as we have learned already by our speech of the rough artery, and of other instruments of the voice and of respiration. Out of which we are to note two goodly points of the providence and wisdom, whereby he doth admonish us of that moderation, Goodly instructions for all men. which we ought to keep in all things, and how we ought to behave ourselves, not only in one work, but also in all things that we take in hand. For concerning the first, GOD hath provided always throughout the whole work of man's body in such sort, that there should be no violent thing, but hath so well framed, disposed, and linked all together, that no one part or member should receive hurt of another, but all might help & support each other. Therefore if there be any burden to carry from one to an other, God hath so distributed it by little and little, and by such convenient means, that no part is pressed: Moderation is 〈◊〉 be kept in all things. teaching us thereby, that he loveth moderation and hateth violence in all things: for which cause he dispenseth all and distributeth drop by drop, as it were by distillation. And to the end he may conjoin in one, things of a contrary nature, he always placeth between two contraries, things of a middle disposition which are most apt to tie them together and to keep them. Besides, we see how he hath ordered all the parts of the body so well, that one only member and instrument serveth oftentimes for many offices & uses, as we have already touched it. Wherein God doth admonish us further of two things well worthy the noting. The first is, that we ought to look so well unto all things, that we neither forget nor omit any thing that shallbe requisite & necessary. The other, that we should employ ourselves about every thing that we can and may do, according to those gifts and graces, which we have received of God, and that we should use all things to every such purpose as they will serve, Superfluity to be avoided in all things. and so avoid all vain and superfluous charges. For (as it is commonly said) nothing is to be done by many things, that can be performed by fewer: otherwise there will be more hindrance than help, and greater loss than profit. For this cause as God hath not given to the body one member less than there ought to be, so he hath not given it one more. For if there were either more or less, it would not only be monstrous, but there would be either some want, or some let & hindrance. And when as one member is able to satisfy two offices, he hath not created many to do it, if either profit or necessity required not the help of many. Good counsel for Princes. Whereupon governors of Commonwealths ought to learn, that their people are not to be burdened with unprofitable and unnecessary offices and persons. If therefore men would learn those lessons that God giveth them in their own bodies, and in the members thereof, they would always keep a mean in all things, following this heavenly example, and never offend either with too little or too much. But notwithstanding we have all Nature to be our Mistress, so that she keep a school within us, and teach us these things herself, yet we profit little thereby. Now leaving this speech, seeing we have taken a view of the nature of the body, and of the natural motion thereof, which is commonly called the Pulse, and what use it hath in this corporal life, as also of other things concerning this matter, it shall be good for us now to speak of another motion that is in the nature of the soul, which serveth not only for this life, but also for the spiritual, in respect of which especially it is given unto it, an image and representation whereof we have had in this motion of which we have already spoken. It belongeth to thee, ARAM, to discourse upon this matter. Of the second motion of the heart, which belongeth to the affections of the soul, and of those that go before or follow after judgement: of the agreement that is between the temperature of the body, and the affections of the soul. Chap. 39 ARAM. As God is not only an eternal and infinite essence, but also infinitely good and happy, so hath he not rested in giving unto his creatures life and being, as it were imparting to them some part of his being, but it hath pleased him also to make them partakers of that Good which is essential in him, and of his blessedness and felicity, according as every one was capable thereof in his kind. Man was created not only to be, but also to be well. For he will not only have them to be, but also to be well. For this cause we see, that although men desire much to be, and therefore are greatly afraid of death, as of an enemy that seeketh to undo them, yet many times it falleth out so that they desire death, to the end they might be no more, because they think it a greater good, or at leastwise a less evil to be no more, than to be miserable & unhappy. And by this we may know, that man was not created of God only to be, neither was that his principal end, but also to be blessed. For this cause as God hath given to the creatures an inclination to preserve themselves in their life, to the end they might be, so he hath put into them a natural appetite & desire of that which is good, to the end they might be well, and that good might be fall them, but man specially is thus affected: which desire of good is also joined with an eschewing of evil. For in the pursuit of good, his contrary, which is evil, must of necessity be fled from. And of this natural inclination to good proceed all those affections of the soul that draw it hither and thither to seek for it: but because of her bad judgement, proceeding of the darkness of ignorance which is in the mind, she chooseth oftentimes the clean contrary to that which she desireth, What the affections are. as we have already touched. We call then properly by the name of affections, the motions and acts of that natural power of the soul, which consisteth in following after good, & eschewing of evil. For receiving of God in our first creation to be & to be well, we have still some natural seeds of the perfection of these two great gifts, which teach us naturally, that it is a good thing for one to preserve himself and his being, as also to be well and happy in his being: but this is only generally. For when we are to come from these generalities unto particulars, there are wonderful errors and disorders throughout the whole course of man's life. Two kinds of affections. Now among the motions of the soul, some go before judgement, others follow after: although oftentimes they are so sudden & headstrong withal, that it appeareth plainly they have shaken off the bridle, & never expected & stayed for any judgement. Notwithstanding it is true, that the hart is not moved before there hath been some judgement to determine, whether that which is then offered unto it be good or evil. But because the motions of our spirit & mind are very light & sudden, and need not so long time, as otherwise is requisite for us if we will take good heed to our matters, hereof it is that they seem to us many times to prevent & go before judgement▪ given, What affections go before judgement when indeed they follow it. And as for those natural motions, which in truth go before it, they are such as are bred & borne of the disposition of the body, as the desire to eat in hunger, and to drink in thirst, & sorrow in time of sickness, or the motion of a melancholic humour, or joy proceeding from good and pure blood in the heart. But the other motions follow the advice of judgement & as that is moved and changed diversly by such means as have already been declared, so the affections alter, and increase or decrease, or otherwise vanish clean away and come to nothing. Whereof it followeth, that they are appeased by the same means by which they are moved, according as they are applied unto them. But although it behoveth that the affections should be pricked forward by judgement, yet it followeth not thereupon, that they can not be stirred up, except this mature & ripe judgement be always there, which ordaineth things to be done after the discourse of reason. For it is enough for them if they have another judgement, that observeth not such an exact & diligent examination, but only that which fantasy offereth without any other discoursing. And this judgement thus moved by fancy, is most usual & ordinary, and that which most guideth & ruleth the affections of men. Therefore it is a sudden & tumultuous judgement, of which a man may truly say, a short sentence of a sottish judge. Thus fancy, being very turbulent & skittish, & drawing to itself confusedly some show and appearance of opinion & judgement, whereby it deemeth that which is offered unto it to be either good or bad, is the cause that we live in the midst of marvelous troubles in respect of our affections of fear, of desire, of sorrow, of joy, and that one while we weep, and suddenly we laugh again. And because it hath great power over the body, as we have already declared, these perturbations do manifestly incline that way. Agreement between the temperature of the body and the affections of the soul. We see also by experience, that there is great agreement between the qualities and temperature of the body, and the affections of the soul: insomuch that as the bodies of men are compounded of the qualities of heat, cold, moisture, and dryness, so among the affections some are hot, others cold, some moist, others dry, & some mingled of these divers qualities. So that every one is most subject to those affections that come nearest to the nature, temperature, & complexion of his body. As for example, the affection of joy is hot and moist, & therefore they that are hot and moist, as children, young men, sound and healthy folks, and idle persons, are more easily inclined to that affection. Contrariwise, sorrow is a cold and dry affection, and therefore they that are cold and dry are most given to that affection, and such are old folks and they that are of a melancholy humour, which is earthy, cold and dry. For the like reason, they that have a soft and tender heart, receive more easily the impression of joy and grief, as wax taketh the print of a seal: and they that have a ha●d and hot heart, quickly receive joy & keep it a long time. And on the other side, they that have hard and cold hearts, receive sorrow and grie●e very soon, and retain it long, as appeareth in melancholy and melancholic persons. And as the affections follow the temperature and complexion of the body, The affections can do much with the body. so they for their parts have great virtue and power over the body. Therefore we see, that joy is as it were a medicine to the body, and food to the natural heat and moisture, in which two qualities life chiefly consisteth, as we have already heard. For it greatly preserveth and increaseth them: forasmuch as it strengtheneth the animal and natural virtues, stirreth up the spirits, helpeth digestion, and generally profiteth the habit and disposition of the whole body. For the heart thereby sendeth with the blood, much natural heat, and more spirits unto all parts of the body. By means whereof the members are watered and moistened by the humidity contained in the fountain of blood: whereupon it followeth, that all the parts increase in bigness and wax fat. ●oy good for the body, and Grief hurtful to it. For this cause Physicians always exhort sick persons to be as merry as they may, and to avoid sorrow and sadness, which being cold and dry is contrary to life, and so consumeth men. For it drieth up the whole body, because the heart thereby is closed up and restrained: so that no great quantity of spirits can be made there, and those few that are there, can not easily be distributed and dispersed with the blood throughout the members. Whereupon the vital virtue and her companions being weakened, the lively colour of the face waxeth wan and pale, and in a manner vanisheth clean away: and so consequently the whole body becometh lean and consumeth, as if it took no nourishment, yea death oftentimes followeth thereupon. This agreement therefore, which is (as we see) between the temperature and complexion of the body, & the affections of the soul, aught to teach us to be very temperate in our eating and drinking, and in all other things belonging to our life. For as we are either temperate or intemperate, so will the qualities be whereof our bodies are compounded: and so consequently according to the temperancy or intemperancy that is in us, the affections of the soul also will be more moderate or immoderate, and the perturbations which they shall bring with them, will be greater or less, and more easy or uneasy to be provoked or appeased. Whereby we might know what great agreement God hath made between the body and the soul, For not withstanding their natures differ much one from an other, yet see in they must be linked together, it is necessary they should have some agreement between them, to the end they may be conjoined and united in one. It is true, that by the reasons of human Philosophy, we know well how the conjunction of corporal things and of their qualities, what contrariety soever it is between them, may be effected and wrought. But as we cannot see or know our soul, or any spiritual nature, as we know our bodies and bodily natures, so can we not judge so easily of the means whereby the body agreeth with the soul, How the agreement between the body and the soul may be discerned. and corporal natures with spiritual, but only as experience and the effects give us some sight thereof. For we see by experience from whence the good or ill disposition of the body, and health and sickness proceed, namely, from the good or ill temperature of the qualities thereof, We see also, that according to the nourishment which the body taketh, & that sobriety or gluttony it useth in eating and drinking, and according to the abstinence or the effects it bringeth forth in all things, it is either better or worse affected and disposed. We see likewise the changes and alterations that befall it, according to the ages and exercises it hath. Wherefore although we had nothing else to look unto, but to maintain and preserve our health, yet ought we to desire to be sober, moderate, and very temperate in all things, seeing moderation beareth so great sway in all the parts of man's life. But it ought to be more precious in our eyes, when we see that the temperance or intemperance that may be in our bodies, extendeth itself unto the estate of our soul, and that it can do much either in the helping and maintaining, or in the hurting and troubling thereof. For we know already by experience, that which is of a choleric nature, is more subject to those diseases that are bred of a choleric humour, than a phlegmatic person that is of a contrary temperature, and that a phlegmatic body is most subject to diseases proceeding of phlegm. Natural qualities breed diseases. The like may be said of all the other qualities and complexions. If then every one incline more to such diseases, as may proceed from those natural qualities which abound most in his body, it is an easy matter to judge, what is like to fall upon him if they exceed, whereby they are increased much more. And if that humour which naturally exceedeth most in a man (and of which his temperature and complexion hath his name) cause him to incline most to those diseases that may be bred thereof, a man may judge into what disposition of body he may fall through excess of other qualities, which are more repugnant to his nature and complexion, if there be no such counterpoise and equality, that one contrary may serve as a remedy against another. But having considered of these things, we must go forward and prosecute our speech of the affections of the soul, which are as it were health and sickness therein, according as they shallbe either well or ill moderated, and see what conveniency there is between corporal and spiritual physic. Finish therefore this days work, ACHITOB, with some discourse upon this point, which may serve to instruct us in the matter of the affections of the soul, of which to morrow we are to entreat particularly and in order. Of the Health and diseases of the soul: of the agreement between corporal and spiritual Physic: how necessary the knowledge of the nature of the body and of the soul, is for everyone. Chap 40. ACHITOB. It is always in his power who hath given us being, namely God the spring and fountain of all essences, to preserve and keep us therein, and to take it also from us when it pleaseth him. But forasmuch as he delighteth not in destroying the works which himself hath wrought, he hath given unto his creatures certain means to preserve themselves in that nature wherein he created them. And that they might have those means near at hand, he hath placed them even in their own nature. For they have by nature an inclination, that moveth and urgeth them to keep and defend themselves as much as they can possible, from every thing that may corrupt their nature, that is contrary unto it, or that will bring to an end that being, which they have received of God. Men are more careful for the health of their bodies then of their souls, But that which herein is most to be lamented in man, is his over great care and curiosity in searching out remedies meet for the maintenance and preservation of his body, the least grief and ill disposition whereof seemeth unto him to be very burdensome: but as for thinking either upon those means, whereby God hath appointed him to attain to an eternal and blessed life, or upon the diseases of the soul, which in steed of life will bring death unto it, and are far more dangerous, stubborn, and uneasy to be cured then those of the body, he dreameth little thereof, his care is very small, he esteems them not great, and therefore is very slothful in seeking remedy for them. We are to know then, The affections breed the health or sickness of the soul. that the affections of the soul are as it were health and sickness therein, according as they are either temperate or intemperate. For as there is no evil disposition or sickness in the body, but contrariwise good health, if there be not some excess in the qualities of which it is compounded, which may destroy that equality that is requisite for the keeping of it sound: so is it with the faculties, powers, qualities and affections of the soul, which according to her nature hath her health and her diseases. Wherefore when the harmony, conveniency and temperature of her powers and affections, is such as her nature requireth, then is she well disposed and in health: as contrariwise thee is ill affected and diseased, when in place of temperance and mediocrity, there is intemperance and excess. Now according to that which we heard in the former speech of the conveniency between the temperature and complexion of the body, and the affections of the soul, we see that a man of a choleric nature is a great deal more easily stirred up to anger, than an other that is of a phlegmatic or melancholy nature. How the soul receiveth from the body in regard of the divers temperatures thereof, For seeing the choleric humour is by nature hot and burning, like to fire, that man in whom this humour reigneth is sooner inflamed with anger and wrath, than an other that is of a contrary nature. For fire will more speedily kindle in a matter that cometh nearer to it own nature, and of which it may more easily take hold, then in another that is more contrary to it. It is otherwise with phlegmatic or melancholic men, according as the humours which rule in them, dispose and incline them more to be carried with one affection rather than with another. Therefore we see that they which are of a choleric complexion, as they are of a more hot and dry nature, so their affections are more sudden, burning and violent, like to fire. Phlegmatic and melancholy persons as they are colder, so they are not so easily moved, but are more slow and heavy, and have also other inclinations and other affections. And as they that are commonly said to be sanguine, are of the best temperature so their affections are for the most part more cheerful & more temperate. And as there are divers mixtions of bodily qualities, so there are sundry sorts of temperatures and complexions of the body, and consequently of souls in regard of their saculties and affections. Therefore also there is great agreement between corporal and spiritual Physic. Agreement between corporal and spiritual Physic. For this cause the Physicians both of the bodies and souls of men are to follow almost one & the same method, and observe a like order in their art & practice, every one according to the subjects propounded unto them: insomuch that look what the one doth unto the body, the other is to deal so with the soul, such things being applied as best agree with their several natures. Wherein they may further each others work greatly, observing that end at which both of them aim, which to the one is the health of the body, and to the other the cure of the soul, considering that the one may help the other, as hath been already touched. For if the body be not temperant, hardly will the soul be: & if the soul be intemperate, the body desireth not to be temperant. Therefore also we see, that not only Physicians for the body appoint men diets, both for the preservation of their bodily health, and also for the recovery & restoring thereof again, but also spiritual Physicians do the like in regard of the soul's health, so far forth as bodily sobriety will serve greatly to that purpose. For this cause not only ordinary sobriety & moderation, which ought to be kept throughout the whole life of man, Luke 21. 34. is so greatly recommended unto us in the holy scriptures, but fasts also, Rom. 13. 3. which being more strict abstinences, are very profitable, yea necessary oftentimes according to times, Ephes 5. 18. places and persons, For they serve to tame and humble the flesh, Act. 13. 2. that it may be the better kept in, & less hinder the spirit, which thereby is the better enabled to attend to every good work, & to the contemplation of divine & celestial things. judge. 20. 26. Therefore the people of God & holy men fasted often, whereof we have many testimonies in the scriptures. Psal. 69. 10. And as it is necessary that bodily Physicians should know well the temperatures & complexions of men's bodies, Esth. 4. 16. and their natures, their health and diseases also, with their convenient and apt remedies: so is it needful, that spiritual Physicians should know the nature of souls, of their faculties, powers & affections, & the natures of virtues, which are their health, and of vices, which are their diseases, together with those medicines & remedies that are necessary for the preservation & increase of virtues, and for the diminution & abolishing of vices. For without this knowledge, neither of them can be good Physicians, but it may be feared, lest they make the diseases worse, or in steed of curing the sick persons, kill them outright. But we must yet draw more instruction out of this matter here offered unto us. For whatsoever hath been hitherto spoken concerning the agreement between the temperature of the body, and the affections of the soul, or concerning the health & diseases of them both, or the knowledge that is requisite in Physicians to follow a good method in their art & practise for the healing of their patients, I say the understanding of all these things is not only necessary for the Physicians both of souls & bodies, The knowledge of physic necessary for all. but even for every one of us particularly, For if we were all skilful in the art of corporal Physic, I mean not such skill as is needful for them that make public profession thereof to all, but only so much as is necessary for the preservation of our own health, I doubt not but we might easily avoid many infirmities and diseases, whereinto we fall daily for want of good diet, good government and the use of those means, which might either retain us in health, or restore it quickly unto us, when it is somewhat altered or impeached. Moreover we should have this advantage beside, if we fell into any disease, that we should know the better how to keep and govern ourselves more moderately and wisely, and obey the physicians counsel the better, because we should have greater knowledge of that which we ought to do, & of the danger whereinto we might fall, or which we might easily avoid. We may say as much of the soul's physic, the knowledge whereof is a great deal more necessary for us, not only because the soul is more noble and precious than the body, but also because it is a harder matter to know the nature and diseases of the soul, then of the body. And if we prove so happy as to be able to comprehend any thing, we shall know daily better and better what things are in us of God, and what is his order, as also what there is of Satan's, and what is that disorder and confusion, which by means of sin he hath brought into all things. For as sin is cause of that excess, Sin is the cause of all disorder, discases and of death. which is in the qualities of which our bodies are made, and consequently of the diseases that proceed from thence, which afterward bring death to the body, so is it in respect of the soul, and of the excess that is in the affections thereof, and in all the other parts of it, contrary to that nature in which God created the same. And as sin is the cause of the disorder and confusion that is in both of them, so it is the cause that one helpeth to spoil another, whereas there should be a pleasant harmony and concord, not only of the bodily qualities among themselves, and so likewise of the qualities of the soul among themselves, but also of the qualities both of soul and body one with another. For God hath put, nor only into our souls, but into our bodies also, the seeds of all the virtues, and the pricks and means to incite and to lead us unto them, in such manner and form as shallbe declared hereafter. Although we may learn somewhat by that which we have heard already of the conveniency that is between the body and the soul, between the temperature of the one and the affections of the other. For if the one be answerable and correspondent to the other, no doubt but God so disposeth of the temperatures and complexions of the body, as he hath disposed of the nature of the affections in the soul, seeing the one is to serve the other through that mutual agreement, which they ought to have one with another. Now to morrow we will prosecute our speech begun concerning the affections of the soul, to the end we may fully understand this goodly and large matter, which may procure to the soul and body, both life and death. And first, me thinks we are to enter into the consideration of four things, which are in the will and in the power to desire, that is in the soul, namely, natural inclinations, actions, habits, and affections, This shallbe then, ASER, the subject of thy discourse. The end of the fift days work. THE sixth DAYS Worke. Of four things to be considered in the Will, and in the power of desiring in the soul: and first, of the natural inclinations: of self-love, and the unruliness thereof. Chap. 41. ASER. All the actions of the soul are bred of the powers and faculties thereof: and therefore by the benefit of nature, which is the gift of God, she hath received powers for all things, which she ought to do. Now concerning the faculty of knowing in the soul, and in the understanding part thereof, of which we have entreated heretofore, Three things to be considered in the faculty of Knowledge. we find three things worthy of diligent consideration, namely, natural principles, actions, and habits gotten by long custom. We may remember those sundry degrees, which we said were in the knowledge of the mind, and how by this faculty it doth not only know simple and particular things as beasts do, but also compoundeth and joineth them together: how it compareth one with another, separateth them and discourseth upon them: finally how it judgeth, and either approveth or refuseth them. All which things are actions of the mind, proceeding from those notices, and natural principles of knowledge that are therein. Now if these actions be sudden, and pass lightly, so that the mind doth not stay in them, nor acquaint itself with them, the bare and simple name of action belongeth to them. But if the mind doth one and the same thing often, museth much upon it, calleth it often to memory, and accustometh itself thereunto, How hab●tes are bred in the mind. so that it is in a manner imprinted in it, and thereby the mind becometh prompt and ready in regard of thelong continuance therein, then do these actions take the name of habit, which is bred by the often repeating and reiterating of the same things. Whereby the mind is made more skilful and ready, and the spirits more fit and apt to perform those exercises, unto which they have addicted themselves, and wherein they have continued. So that such a habit is as it were a light in the spirit and in the soul, whereby the actions there of are governed. In like manner we find in the Will, Four things to be considered in the Will and desires. and in that power o desiring, which is in the soul, four things to be considered, namely natural inclinations, actions, habits, and affections which intermingle themselves in every one of the other. All these things are good of their own nature, even as nature itself, being considered as God hath created her. But as nature was corrupted through sin, so is it with these things by reason of that disorder which the nature of sin hath brought unto them. Of natural inclinations and affections. But let us first speak of natural inclinations, and then we will prosecute the rest. As therefore the mind hath his natural principles of knowledge, so the will hath her natural inclinations and affections, which of their own nature are good, as they are taken from that first nature created of God: neither would they at any time be wicked, if there were no excess in them proceeding from nature corrupted, which afterward breedeth in us such inclinations and affections as are altogether evil and damnable. We love ourselves naturally, our wives, our children, our kinsfolks and our friends, yea we are by nature so inclined to this love, that if it were not in us we should not only not be men, but not deserve so much as to be accounted and taken for beasts, no not for the wildest, most savage and venomous beasts that can be. For we see by experience what great inclination & affection there is in every one of them towards their little ones. Therefore when S. Paul maketh a beaderoll of the vices and sins of such men as are most vicious and execrable, and as it were monsters of nature, Rom. 1. 30. 2. he saith expressly, that they are without natural affection: Tim. 3. 3. which indeed cannot be clean rooted out of any nature living, unless it be altogether monstrous and unnatural: For it is an affection which is as it were a beam of the love that God beareth cowards all his creatures, and which he causeth to shine in them, so that it is not possible, that they which are capable of any affection of love, should not love their own blood and their like, especially men. Wherefore if this love and this affection were well ruled and ordered, it is so far from being vicious, that contrariwise the spirit of God condemneth as Monsters, those men that want it. And therefore God doth not forbid and condemn this love and affection in his law, so far forth as it is ruled thereby, but he approveth it, & appointeth it to be the rule of our love towards our neighbour, Levit. 19 18. matth. 5. 43. when he saith, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. But when this love & affection is disordered in us, it is not only vicious, but also as it were the original and fountain of all other vices and sins, whereas if it were well ordered & ruled according to the will & law of God, it would be as it were the fountain and wellspring of all virtues. For we should not love ourselves but in God and through him, nor consequently our wives, nor our children, nor our friends, nor any other creature whatsoever: whereas clean contrariwise, we set God aside, and seek nothing but ourselves and the things of the world. Therefore this love and affection being now so unruly through sin, is so violent in us, that it withdraweth us from the love of God and of his creatures, to love the devil and his wicked works, because it seemeth to us, that he is a greater friend unto us then God. Of the ursulines of our natural affections. For whereas the holy spirit doth resist and set himself against our evil affections, and will have us to bridle them, Satan on the contrary part letteth them lose, & not only giveth us over to follow our perverse and vicious affections with full sway and liberty, but also provoketh and thrusteth us forward with great vehemency. Whereby we may judge, what love and affection a man may carry towards creatures in those things wherein they may be contrary unto him, and with what fury and rage he may be led against them that resist his disordered affections, seeing he carrieth such an affection towards God his Creator. Therefore Saint Paul speaking of wicked men that should be in the latter times, 2. Tim. 3. 2. saith first, That they should be selfe-lovers: and having set down this disordered love as the root, after he cometh to the branches & fruits of such a tree, saying, That they shall be covetous, boasters, proud, cursed speakers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, truce-breakers, false accusers, intemperate, fierce, despisers of them that are good, traitors, heady, buy minded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God, having a show of godliness, but denying the power thereof. And in the Epistle to the Romans he expressly mentioneth haiers of God. Rom. 1. Thus we see what the love of men is towards themselves, being left in the corruption of their nature, in respect of that which ought to be, if it were not unruly & disordered. For man should love himself as the gift of God, as also his life & being which God hath given him, Of true love towards a man● self, & towards his. & that blessed estate for the enjoying of which he hath his being, and that Good wherein it consisteth, and whereby he may attain unto it, and should love no other thing, nor otherwise. But the great excess that is in the love of ourselves, causeth it to be clean contrary, both to that love which ought naturally to be in us, and also to our love towards God, so that it overthroweth and confoundeth all heavenly order, and the whole course of man's life. Nevertheless, when it so falleth out that this love and affection is moderate in us, although in deed it be never so as it ought to be according to the rule of God's will, yet are they acceptable in his sight, as our other natural affections and friendships are, which we bear towards them that belong to us: provided always that they be ruled and guided by faith and true love, and kinded with the flames of the holy Ghost, as they were in Zacharie and Elizabeth towards their son john▪ and in so many other holy men, as have loved both themselves and theirs according to God, Gen. 22. whereof we have a notable example in Abraham. For out of all question if ever father loved his children, he loved his son Isaac. But he showed evidently by the effect, that he did not only love him with the love of flesh and blood, as commonly we love our children, but he loved him also in God, towards whom yet his love was far greater, seeing he was very ready to offer him up in sacrifice unto him, when ●he so commanded it. But although this natural love and affection be not so pure in us as in these holy men, but that still there is mingled with it some thing of our own because of sin, which we have by inheritance, yet is it always acceptable to God, so that he be first and chief loved. For through his mercy he beareth with our infirmity, which evermore accompanieth our desires and wills. As for those that are guided only by the light of nature, and are not regenerated by the spirit of God, albeit these natural affections are too unclean in them, yet they do not so much displease him, as inhumanity and cruelty do, that are clean contrary to the other, & which do utterly dispossess men of love and charity. We may consider the same things in all the other natural inclinations. For we see that some are by nature inclined to civil justice, some to liberality, and others to such like virtues. Natural inclinations are seeds of virtues or vices. Now if these inclinations be well guided, they are goodly seeds of virtues, but if they be not well ordered and ruled, they corrupt & degenerate▪ ye● they turn into the vices that are contrary to those virtues. For justice, which is never without moderation, may be turned into over great rigour, or into cruelty, as we see it in many, who being naturally inclined to severity, which many times is very necessary injustice, become so rigorous and extreme, that their severity, which ought to be a virtue, is turned into cruelty. The like may be ●aid of other inclinations and affections. Now that which befalleth these inclinations, is procured also unto them by the humours and qualities of the body, which have acertaine agreement with the affections. For a sanguine man, in whose nature blood beareth greatest sway amongst the other humours and qualities, will naturally be more inclined to love, to joy, to liberality, and to such other affections as are most agreeable to his nature. But if this complexion be not moderated and well guided, it will easily pass measure in every affection, so that it will fall into foolish and unlawful loves, into excessive and unmeasurable joys, and into prodigality in steed of following liberality. The same may be said of all the other temperatures and complexions for their part, in that they may be seeds and provocations either to virtues or to vices, according to that correspondency, which is between the body and the soul, and the temperature of the one with the affections of the other. The original of all diseases. Therefore we may well conclude, that as diseases engender in the body of the humours that are in it, according to their change, mingling and corruption: so it falleth out in the nature of the soul and in the affections thereof. For as good natural humours become evil by corruption that seizeth upon them, and turn that health which before they afforded into diseases: so the inclinations and natural affections of our soul, which of their own nature are good and the seeds of virtues, are turned into vices and into their seeds, through that corruption which sin bringeth unto them. Behold then what we have to consider of those natural inclinations that are in the Will & in the desiring power of the soul, & of the actions thereof, namely to will and not to will, & to suspend and stay her action, and to command over the power of the appetites, of all which we have largely entreated in our discourse of the Will. Wherefore we will come to the habits, of which thou shalt now discourse, AMANA. Of the Habit of the soul in the matter of the affections, and of what force it is: of the causes why the affections are given to the soul, with the use of them: of the fountain of virtues and vices. Chap. 42. AMANA. If a man will learn any occupation, he proves not a workman the first day, but learneth by little and little, and beginneth to labour therein: afterward by long continuance and custom he groweth more ready in his art, and practiseth it with greater facility and ease. A painter waxeth expert in his science by often painting, and his hand wherewith he laboureth, by long continuance becometh more steady, more ready and able, so that he can handle his pencil with greater ease, and is far more expert therein then he was in the beginning. We may note the like in the soul, and in the chief powers and actions thereof. For there are some of them, which incontinently follow the nature of the faculties of the soul, when they have their just times, and are come, as a man would say, unto their ripeness, as we may see by experience in the corporal senses. For not long after the child is borne he seethe and heareth, the reason whereof is because the senses of seeing and hearing are by nature absolute and perfect. Therefore in such actions there needeth no exercise to cause them to perform that which they do well, but only a good vigour and strength, because in them nature is a great Mistress that hath all efficacy. But there are far more excellent actions, as science, art, prudence, fidelity, and such like, which had need of use and exercise to cause them to do readily and well. This use bringeth custom, which hath in it a facility to work, and a disposition tending thereunto. And then such actions take the name of habit, which is bred by the reiterating thereof. Thus the actions of the Will & power of desire in the soul, of which we have spoken before, when they are often reiterated, so that they grow to be firm and steadfast, are called habits, because the Will is so accustomed thereunto, that it becometh more constant eithet in desiring one certain thing, or in eschewing the same. Therefore as the affections are more or less forward, more seldom or often used, more weak or strong, What a habit is. so they are called either inclinations or actions, or habits. But we are to note, that habits extend not themselves only to those things which we do, but also to those which we suffer & abide, which displease us and are contrary to our nature. For custom diminisheth & moderateth by little and little the sense of that grief & pain which they bring us, whereof we have trial in all diseases, which commonly seem not so grievous & intolerable after we have been long accustomed unto them, Of the force of custom. as in the beginning of them. And although poverty be a heavin burden, nevertheless custom maketh it familiar unto us, and familiarity causeth us to think it lighter. Wherefore we ought not to marvel, if our God doth usually send affliction to his children to acquaint them therewith, as also to the end they might obtain the virtue of patience, which is learned by often suffering: insomuch that there remaineth a habit in men, which being nothing else but a common custom, causeth them mildly to bear & sustain all events. Whereas there are some that like furious and desperate men are carried away with great impatience, either because they never suffered much before, or if they did suffer, yet they never accustomed themselves to bear their afflictions patiently. Moreover we know by experience, that although the way of virtue at our first entering thereinto, seem unto us very difficult to tread in, yet afterward we find it very ●asie, when we have walked in it a certain time. Sweat is Gentleman-usher to virtue. For there is no honest trade of life in which we find not great difficulty. And the more excellent it is, so much the more troublesome and tedious it will seem to our flesh, whereas the path of pleasure will seem to be very delectable and easy, because it is a great deal more natural to our corrupt nature. But how hard so ever it be to our flesh to follow after a virtuous, honest, and sober life, yet custom will make it easy to overpass, as likewise to forsake that which is contrary unto it. Therefore it hath not without just cause been given out long since by wise and skilful men, that it is very good and profitable to be accustomed to good things, especially from ones infancy: that it skilleth much how every one hath been brought up from his youth: that nothing is of greater force than custom, either to good or to evil, as that which seemeth to be another nature. Now upon this speech of habits we are to note further, The cause and profit of an habit. that as all other natural things in the soul are given unto it for the good thereof, so is this habit, which is no other thing but a custom rooted therein. For except continuance of time did confirm this power of the soul, I mean, that it ought not only to do a thing, but to do it well and as it ought to be done, that it is to get a facility therein through use and excercise, to the end it may do the same thing afterward more freely and readily, and be more willing to occupy itself about the same thing, and that after the same manner, I say except this be so, many inconveniences will ensue thereupon. The first is, that it should labour altogether in vain. The second, that it should always come rude and unskilful, as it were a new apprentice, to the exercising of these excellent actions and works. Whereof this would follow, that having profited nothing with the time, it would not do any thing perfectly. And this we ought not only to understand of those things which we do willingly but even of that which we suffer and endure maugre our wills: where with of all other things we had need to be best acquainted. For seeing we are compassed about daily with so many miseries, seeing we must suffer and undergo so many sharp and unworthy assaults, how much greater will our misery be, if long custom & an habit in suffering should afford us no ease & refreshing? But let us come now to that which particularly concerneth the affections of the soul, that we may be fully instructed in the nature & sundry kinds of them. First we will note, that we understand by affection that natural power in the soul, which openeth itself towards Good, and with draweth itself from evil, as we have already declared before. Now when the actions of an affection are grown to be habits, What affection is, & from whence virtue and vice first spring. then are they called either virtues or vices, according as they are either well or ill done. And from hence proceed good or ill manners, of which moral Philosophy took that name, because it in●reateth of them. For that showeth what virtue and vice is, how many kinds there are of them, and what difference there is not only between virtues and vices, but also between the sundry sorts of them, as we have discoursed at large in our first Academical assembly. The fountain of moral philosophy. But let us understand this, that the knowledge of the soul and of the powers of it, about which we now labour, is the right springhead and fountain of that moral Philosophy and doctrine. This knowledge therefore is very profitable and necessary, to the end that by it we may know the original and beginning of all virtues and vices, of their whole generation, and their sundry kinds. For if we be well instructed in all the parts and powers of the soul, we know the causes of these actions: we know how the mind judgeth, how the will chooseth and commandeth, as we have already spoken. And thus we see, that there are most sure and certain principles of knowledge, which shine in the mind as it were a light, which are the rules whereby the soul squareth out her actions, and which discern between truth and falsehood, good and evil, to the end that all the actions thereof might agree with these rules, which are the beams of heavenly wisdom in ourselves. For it is an order which God hath so ordained & established. Why the affections are given to the soul. And forasmuch as the soul was to dwell in the body, God gave unto it this natural power of the affections, that it might be wakened and stirred up by them as it were with pricks, thereby to be kept from idleness, and from being lulled asleep and oppressed with the heaviness of the body, and so neglect all care of good things, & of that which is very expedient & profitable for itself. For this cause the soul hath her affections of which some serve for spurs to prick her hither & thither, & as often as need requireth: others serve for a bridle to keep her back & to stay her from rushing unto evil, & from following those things that are hurtful for her. And indeed we stand in need of such spurtes and bridles: but herein we err greatly in that we know not how to keep a moderation between these twain. For because we make these spurs too sharp, and prick the horse too much which we have to guide, the bridle on the other side is two grievous unto him, so that he lifteth up and girdeth forward over furiously. And this cometh to pass because we do not content ourselves with that which is requisite for the succouring of our natural necessities, but we add there unto infinite superfluities. For upon some light necessity that might soon be dispatched, we torment ourselves a great deal more than need is, because we persuade ourselves that our necessities are greater than they be, and so seek after more remedies and helps than is requisite. Of this we have daily experience in that care which we take for things necessary for this life, which is the cause that we burn continually with insatiable covetousness, which is such a marvelous spur unto us, that we take very little rest for it. For if we would be contented with enough, it would not put us to that torment, which we daily suffer. The affections compared to the winds. But nothing sufficeth us: and therefore the affections are in our soul, as the winds upon the sea. For some winds are very small, and move the water but a little: others are more vehement, and raise up certain waves: and some again are so tempestuous, and make such horrible storms and gusts, whereby the Sea is so moved, that sea and sand and fish and all seem to be turned topsy-turvy. The like may be said of the motions of the soul. For some are so light, that they seem to be nothing else but small beginnings of moving. There are others stronger which move it somewhat more. And some also are so violent, that they altogether trouble the soul, even in such a vehement manner, that they drive her from her seat of judgement. Therefore these two first kinds of motions are properly called affections, and the other that are so violent are termed Commotions and Perturbations. Of commotions & perturbations. For they bring a kind of blindness with them, which is the cause that judgement and reason see never a whit. Whereupon it followeth, seeing neither Reason nor judgement bear any more rule, that the soul is as if she had no more power over herself, but were subject to the jurisdiction of some other. The Grecians term such affections with a word that signifieth as much as if we should say passions. And in deed we commonly say, that a man is passionate, when he is tormented by such violent affections. For as the whole body suffereth when it is moved, or thrust too and fro, and stricken on every side: so is it with the soul being violently moved every way. And as the moving is more or less moderate, so she suffereth more or less: and if the motion be very violent, confusion followeth thereupon. Now for the sequel of this speech, let us consider how the affections are more or less moderate, according to the disposition of the judgement: and what is the spring and original of so many sundry affections, as we see in men. It belongeth then to thee, ARAM, to handle this matter. That according to the dispposition of the judgement, the affections are more or less moderate or immoderate: of the cause of all the motions of the soul and heart: of the variety of affections: of the generation: nature and kinds of them. Chap. 43. ARAM. Whatsoever we do or wish for, we do or desire it for some Good, whether that which we judge to be good be so in truth, or in opinion only. And therein we resemble God our Creator, who is not only good, but also goodness itself, even the perfection of all Good Wherefore if we desire to know what is the true Good, we must understand, that there is but one only true Good, even the same, by participation of which we are first made good, and then of good, most happy. For we cannot be happy and blessed, which is the end we all look for, but we must first become good. For as there is no true felicity and blessedness but in Good, being th' source and fountain, yea the perfection of all happiness and contentation, so also there is no felicity nor bless dues but in goodness, which is as proper to God as his very divinity: because that as he cannot be God except he be good, so he cannot be good with that goodness that is in him, but he must be God. And as he is the essence of all essences, so he is the essential Good, and the essential Goodness of all Goods and of all Goodnesses. But although our nature doth of itself always tend to that which is Good, as we have showed in the handling of the chief powers of the soul, Understanding, and Will, nevertheless we differ much, nay we are clean contrary to God, when we come to the election of Good, because of the bad judgement we have, by reason of the darkness of ignorance wherewith our minds are blinded. Hereof it cometh, that the more the judgement is corrupted, infected, and deeper plunged in the flesh, How 〈◊〉 the judgement can prevail over the affections. the more evil and carnal are the affections, the more in number and the more violent: yea such as do not only trouble and pervert the internal senses of the soul, but the external senses also of the body. This we may observe in them that are carried away with love, who think oftentimes, and are verily persuaded, that they see and hear those things, which indeed are nothing so. Contrariwise, the purer the judgement is, and the higher it is lifted up from the flesh and from the earth, the fewe● and lighter are the affections which trouble and molest it. For than it taketh greater heed and marketh what truth or what falsehood, what good or what evil there is in all things. Whereupon it cometh to pass, that the judgement is not so often nor so easily moved. And when it is moved, it is not so violent nor heady, but more mature and moderate. The original of violent motion● in the soul. For all great, violent, and turbulent motions proceed of ignorance and inconsiderateness, or through a false persuasion, which maketh us to think, that the Good or Evil is greater than indeed it is. And this cometh for want of experience, which being as it were a dark cloud and mist before the eyes of our mind, do greatly trouble it: insomuch that we aim not at that certain Good, after which we ought to seek, but contrariwise we propound to ourselves many sorts of Goods, with many and sundry ends and means to attain unto them, which we change and rechange from hour to hour, very inconstantly, according to places, times and occasions, whereby it is evident that there is no staidness in us. Besides all this, there is another great mischief, namely that we have not that prudence which beasts have by natural instinct only without reason or judgement, whereby to know how we may keep ourselves from those tempests, which our affections may move in us. For when beasts perceive any tempest coming, they suddenly withdraw themselves, and seek for means to avoid it. A similitude showing the perilous motions of of the soul. And they that sail on the Sea foreseeing the tempestuous storms which threaten them, provide thereafter in good time, left they should be carried away therewith. For otherwise they bring themselves within the compass of this danger, that afterward they cannot be Masters of their ship, neither arrive at their desired haven, but rather hazard the breaking of their ship against some rock, or of sticking fast in some sand, or of being swallowed up and overwhelmed with some whitlewindes and tempests. The like may be said of the motions of the soul made by affections. For there are not so many sorts of winds, whirlwinds, or tempests in the Sea, as there is variety of motions that come from the affections in our hearts. Therefore we ought to be very careful, that when we see and perceive any beginnings in our souls, we straightways give not ourselves over into the power and swinge of our affections. But we are so far from looking to this, that we throw ourselves into the midst of the tempest, that it may carry us, not whether we would, but whether that will. For seeing we enterprise our affairs, not by the appointment and decree of an upright judgement directed by reason, but at the judgement and lust of our corrupt and crooked nature, we are so much moved as our nature hath power. For natural actions are not bounded by our will, but e●tende themselves as far●e as the power and virtue thereof is able to permit. But it is clean contrary with a prudent and wise man. The effects of a prudent and wise man. For he is not deceived in the election and choice of that which is good, because he chooseth with good judgement, and propoundeth not to himself many uncertain Goods, but one only, which is the true and certain Good. Like wise he chooseth not many ways and means to come unto it, but a few that are well sifted out and infallible: beside, he is not governed by his affairs and affections, but governeth them, neither giveth himself over into their power, but abideth always in his own: insomuch that if any affection beginneth to move by virtue of his natural inclination, he presently stayeth it, compelling it to give place and to obey right judgement. Thus much generally of the nature of affections: now it remaineth, that we should say something of the number and variety of them. Surely it is very difficult, yea impossible to set down a certain number of an infinite thing: Of the variety of affections. although indeed the number of the affections is not infinite by nature, but only in regard of us, that cannot comprehend them all. But we will reckon up the chiefest of them, which are the fountain of the rest. Hear than we have first to note, The cause of all motions in the ●oule that all motions of the soul are in regard either of some good which they seek, or of some evil which they would avoid, because it is contrary to that good. Therefore every motion of itself tendeth always to that which is good, or withdraweth itself from evil, or else seateth itself against it, as we have already heard in the handling of Will. Now every good, and every evil, is either present, or to come, or past, either possible or impossible. And as we take the absence of evil for a good, so we judge the absence of good to be an evil. For this cause the Divines make two kinds of ●ayne or punishment, Two kinds of punishments. whereof the first is the pain of loss and damage, and the other is the pain of sense and feeling. By the first they understand that pain which a man hath because he wanteth some good that he should and would have. For men account it damage, to lose that profit, which they ought to have. By the second they understand a pain which is felt, not only when some good is wanting, which a man should or would have, but when some evil is present, that is contrary to this good, which men fe●le by effect. Therefore they say that the pain of the loss and damage, is the privation of the joys of Paradise. For although there were no torments of ●ell for the wicked, but only a privation of that eternal life and happiness, for the which man was created of GOD, yet were this no small punishment to be deprived thereof. But there is a great deal more, when the wicked are not only deprived of a blessed life, but besides that are detained in perpetual torments, as a malefactor that doth not only want all good company, but is withal kept in perpetual prison and torture. But let us proceed with our matter. When any good is propounded, Of the generation, nature and kinds of the af●ections. so soon as ever the soul and mind knoweth it, it is well liked of. And this liking or delight is as it were a little pleasant wind of motion in the heart, which beginneth to arise and to follow after this good. Now when this pleasure and liking is confirmed and waxeth strong, it is turned into love. And the motion of that present Good, which we have already gotten is called joy: and the motion of some Good to come is called Desire, which is enclosed within the bounds of love. If the matter be of some evil, it is called offence, because the soul is offended thereby: and therefore she is displeased therewith and disl●keth it, whereas she is well pleased with Good. If this displeasure or dislike be confirmed, it is turned into hatred. And as grief is for some present evil, so is fear of some evil ●o come. The motion against a present evil, is anger, envy, indignation▪ and against an evil to come, is confidence and boldness. Now all these affections have others under them. For favour, reverence, and mercy are comprised under love, delight under joy, hope under desire, and desire under grief. As for pride, it is a monster compounded of divers affections, How the affections are bred or bridled one of another. as of joy, of desire, and of boldness. And as the affections are quickly bred one of an other, so some of them are bridled and restrained by others. For the first, envy, hat●ed and anger spring of love. For they are motions of the heart that loveth, against him that hateth or hurteth her who is de●re or beloved. And desire riseth of revenge▪ and the joy that cometh thereby, proceed from anger and malice. If a man love any thing, he wisheth it would come, and hopeth also that he shall enjoy it: and contrariwise, he feareth that it will not come to pass. If it come to pass, he rejoiceth. If it come not to pass when he thinketh it will, or when he expecteth it, he is grieved. In like manner, great joy is lessened through grief, and envy through mercy▪ or through fear. And one grief altereth another▪ when it is greater: and fear maketh grief to be forgotten, and causeth the lame to run. To be short, these sundry motions of affections are like to stormy waves and billows, which being driven one of another, do either augment, or diminish, or wholly oppress one another. Goodly similitudes. Wherefore the like happeneth in the motion of our affections, that cometh to pass in a sedition and civil dissension, in which no man considereth who is the worthier person to obey and follow him, but who is the stronger and most mighty. So in the fight of the affections there is no respect had to that which is most just, but only to that which is strongest and most violent, and which hath gotten such power over the soul that it hath wholly subdued her to itself: which thing we ought to stand in great fear of. But whatsoever affections are in us, there is always some grief or some joy joined with them. Therefore following our matter, it shall be good for us to consider particularly of the nature of these two contrary motions, of which, joy serveth greatly for the preservation of life, but grief drieth up and consumeth the heart, even unto the death of it, as we shall now learn of ACHITOB. That joy, or Grief are always joined to the affections: and what joy and Grief are properly. Chap. 44. ACHITOB. The knowledge of the Affections of the heart and soul is very necessary for every one, because they are very evil and dangerous diseases in the soul, but yet being known they may be cured more easily. This cause hath moved us, after we have spoken of the heart and of the natural motion thereof, and of the use it hath in this life of the body, to enter into the consideration of a second motion it hath, which serveth not only for this corporal life, but also for that spiritual life, in regard of which it was chiefly given, and of which we said, that there was as it were an image and representation thereof in the first motion. The first motion of the heart is an image of the second. Now we shall better understand this by the subject of this discourse propounded unto us, being handled particularly as we intent to do. For as by the first natural motion of the heart, it receiveth such refreshing as is necessary for the sending of life unto the whole body, and for the maintenance and preservation of the same, as also for the expelling and driving out of all such things as might hurt and stifle it: even so is it in this second motion, as far as we can conceive of the nature of it. For seeing God hath appointed joy as a means to preserve life, he hath likewise put this affection in the heart, whereby it is as it were enlarged to receive within itself, and to embrace all Good that is offered unto it: as also it restraineth and shutteth itself up through grief which is contrary thereunto. Moreover we shall find, that there is no affection in us, which is not intermingled with some grief or else with some joy. Grief or joy in all the affections. For seeing the heart is the proper seat and instrument of all the affections, when it is as it were stricken and beaten with some unpleasant thing that is offered unto it, then doth it retire, close up itself and feel grief, as if it had received a wound, then doth it fly from the thing it liketh not. Yea the heart doth always either enlarge or shut up itself according to those affections that are within it, the causes of which are in it own nature, God having so disposed and willed the same, for the reasons which we have already touched. For if the heart be joyful, the joy that it hath, doth bring so great pleasure unto it, that thereby it is opened and enlarged, as if it would receive, embrace, and lay hold upon that thing which rejoiceth it, and bringeth unto it that pleasure, which it hath in this joy. Now because there is joy in love and hope, the blood and spirits are gently and mildly dispersed by their movings, by reason of the rejoicing at the Good that is present, or that is expected, as if it were already present. And forasmuch as such motions are made by the enlarging of the heart, whereby we embrace the thing offered unto us, joy appeareth in the face. the face also appeareth smiling, cheerful, and ruddy. For a man may easily judge, that the object presented to the heart, moveth that power whereby it is stirred up, because that before the heart doth move itself, it must know the thing that offereth occasion unto it to be moved, either with joy or grief, or some such like affection. For as we have learned already, the outward senses do first perceive the things that are offered unto them, and then they present them unto the common sense, which presently by a singular providence of God sendeth them to all the other senses, and to all those powers that are in the sundry parts of the soul and body. This done, if there be matter of joy, the heart being stricken with that which is acceptable unto it, enlargeth itself, and being thus gently enlarged, as it were to embrace the same, it disperseth much natural heat with the blood, besides great quantity of spirits, of which it sendeth a good portion to the face, if the joy be so great that it moveth a man to hearty laughter. The effects of laughter in the face. For the face itself is in some sort blown up and enlarged: the forehead is made clear and smooth, the eyes glister and shine, the cheeks become ruddy, and the lips gather in themselves. In a word, the heart doth so enlarge itself, that it is represented in the face, as it were in a glass, or in an image framed to express the joy and gladness which it hath. Moreover, experience teacheth us sufficiently, what difference there is between a cheerful and a sad countenance. Therefore when we love one, we embrace him, as if we would join him to ourselves, and put him into our bosom and heart, as some dear and very precious thing. Which we see chief in mothers, when they hold their little infants between their arms, and embrace them with great affection of heart. For this cause Saint Paul being desirous to let the Corinthians understand what good will he bore them, how loving, ready and cheerful his affection was towards them, what joy he received thereby, as himself speaking plainly doth with his mouth give full testimony of his heart, 2. Cor. 6. 11, 12 writeth thus unto them, O Corinthians, our mouth is open unto you: our heart is made large: you are not kept strait in us. And then complaining of them that their heart was not so bend towards him, he saith: But ye are kept strait in your own bowels. And here we may note, What is meant by bowels in the Scripture. that by this word Bowels is meant generally all the internal members and parts of man, especially the heart, and those that are next unto it. Now because the heart is the seat of the affections, and the other members near unto it serve for his use, therefore the bowels are taken in the holy Scriptures for all the motions of the heart, and for all the affections of men that proceed from it, but chief for love, also for joy, pity and compassion, which have their beginning from love, whose nature is to open the heart: which in stead of opening shutteth up itself against those that are not loved, or that a man hateth. Therefore as love or hatred is great or small, hot or cold, so doth the heart open or close itself. Hereof it is said in the history of the two women that stood before salomon's judgement seat about their two children, 1. King. 3. 26. whereof the one was dead and the other alive, that the bowels of the true mother were moved towards her child. And Saint Paul exhorting the Colossians to charity and compassion, Col. 3. 12, 13, 14. The true works of a Christian. saith, Now therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on the bowels of mercy (that is to say of tender affection) kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long suffering: forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel to another: even as Christ forgave you, so do ye. And above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfectness: and let the peace of God (namely that which God hath established among his) rule in your hearts, to the which ye are called in one body, and be gracious, or amiable. We see here what virtues accompany these bowels of mercy, of which he spoke in the beginning, as in deed all th●se virtues and heavenly gifts are so knit together, that they cannot be separated one from an other. And Saint john speaking of that liberality and love, which ought to be among Christians, saith, Whosoever hath this worlds good, 1. joh. 3. 17, 18. and seethe his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him? Then he addeth, Let us not love in word, neither in tongue only, but in work and in truth. And to this purpose Esaias saith, Isay 58. 10. If thou power out thy soul to the hungry, and refresh the troubled soul, then shall thy light spring out in the darkness, and thy darkness shallbe as the noonday. All which places agree very well to that which we have touched concerning the motion of the heart, whereby it is either opened or closed up, as the affections are disposed that move it. But let us consider more narrowly the nature of these affections of joy and sorrow, and what difference is between them, seeing we have taken them for the ground of our speech. What joy is. For the first, let us know, that joy is properly a motion or an affection of the heart, whereby it taketh pleasure and stayeth itself in that Good, which is offered unto it: or if we had rather thus, it is a motion of the soul, proceeding from the judgement of some Good, which is already present, or certainly near at hand. And therefore when the heart is enlarged therewith, not only laughter is bred, but all the body also leapeth, when the joy is so great that the breast cannot contain nor keep in the heart. But when the joy is moderate, it purgeth the blood by heat, it confirmeth health, and bringeth with it a lively and vigorous heat, which is very wholesome and acceptable to the heart. True it is, that the heart and will often deceive themselves in the choice and election of that which is Good: whether it be that following reason and judgement corrupted, How the heart chooseth evil for good. which should show what is Good, they embrace their error: or whether it be that Will being corrupted of itself through sin, letteth lose the bridle against the judgement of reason, and so suffereth herself to be carried headlong by her evil affections, in following some false show of good. Whereupon it commonly cometh to pass, that in stead of joy which the heart should receive of Good, unto which the will tendeth naturally, it receiveth great sorrow and grief after knowledge taken of the fault. This is the cause why we are so often admonished by the spirit of God, to renounce our own sense, reason, prudence, and wisdom, and to submit ourselves wholly to the counsel and wisdom of God, and to judge of good and of evil, of the true and false Goods according to his judgement, and not according to our own: as also to renounce our own desires to follow his will. As for grief or sorrow, we may judge of this affection by the contrary, which is joy, What sorrow is. namely, that it is a motion and an affection of the heart, whereby it is restrained and pressed either with some present evil, or with some that is in a manner present: which displeaseth the heart as if it had received some grievous wound. Therefore it trembleth and languisheth, as a sick body, who drying up with grief by little and little, in the end dicth, except he have some remedy against his sickness. For the like happeneth to the heart of man through grief as long as it is within it, insomuch that it never forsaketh it, until it hath quite dried up and consumed the same. And therefore as there is pleasure and rest in joy, so in sorrow there is dolour and torment. For it engendereth melancholy, Of melancholy. and melancholy engendereth it, and increaseth it more, so that we often see melancholy men very sad, although no harm hath befallen them, neither can they give any reason of their heaviness. Moreover, this black melancholy humour is of this nature, that it will make the spirit and mind darkish, whereby it groweth to be blockish, & the heart looseth all his cheerfulness. And because the brain is cooled thereby, it waxeth very heavy & drowsy. Now when grief is in great measure, The effect of sorrow. it bringeth withal a kind of loathing & tediousness, which causeth a man to hate & to be weary of all things, even of the light and of a man's self, so that he shall take pleasure in nothing but in his melancholy, in feeding himself therewithal, in plunging himself deeper into it, and in refusing of all joy and consolation. To conclude, some grow so far as to hate themselves, and so fall to despair, yea many kill and destroy themselves. And as the heart by enlarging itself with joy appeareth in the countenance, so doth it also in sorrow and grief. For as in sorrow the heart drieth up and gathereth itself in, so it causeth the face, which is the image of it, to retire and draw back, yea it depriveth the face of all colour, and causeth it to fall away. Briefly, it marreth all health, and hath for continual companions, sighs, plaints, groans, tears, and weeping, and oftentimes gnashing of teeth, as it is written of the damned, because of that sorrow and indignation in which they are, by reason of the torments which they suffer. It is true that the most of these things serve as a remedy against sorrow. For howsoever grief shutteth up the heart as we have said, yet by groaning, sighing and weeping the heart doth in some sort open itself, as if it would come forth to breath, least being wholly shut up with sorrow it should be stifled. Again, tears are given unto us to testify our grief and to manifest it to others, that we may move them to have pity and compassion on us, and to help and secure us. They serve us further to declare what compassion we have of other men's sorrow and grief, A commendable use of tears. which use is very necessary for us to get and preserve friendship one towards an other, and for our mutual comfort and consolation. For we are greatly comforted, when we see any take pity and compassion of us. Wherefore when we can not otherwise solace them that are grieved, but only by declaring that we are sorrowful for their heaviness, and for those evils which they suffer, yet doth that afford great consolation. And although it seemeth an easy matter to give this comfort, yet is it harder than many think it is. For before we can find this in us, we must first have love in our hearts, which causeth us to open our bowels, and moveth us to compassion towards our like, that we may weep with them that weep, as we must rejoice also with them that rejoice according as Saint Paul exhorteth us thereunto. Rom. 12. 15. For by this means we testify that union and conjunction which we have one with an other, as members of one and the same body, and as if we felt in ourselves all that good and evil which others feel. Now because in our definition of these affections of joy and grief, we made two sorts of those that men feel in their hearts, namely, either of that good and evil which is present, or if that which they look for, we must consider more particularly of these things, and see first, why God hath put these affections in the soul, and what is true and present joy, as also what that other kind of joy is, which hath regard to that which is to come, which is properly called Hope. Now let us hear thee, ASER, upon this matter. Of the causes why God hath placed these affections of joy and Sorrow in the heart: of true and false joy, and of good and bad Hope. Chap. 45. ASER. Men have commonly sharp wits to know vain, earthly and carnal things: but as for heavenly, true & eternal things, they are able for the most part to understand nothing. So that we may compare the eyes of their soul to the eyes of an Owl, A comparison. which seethe clearly by night, but when the sun is risen, seethe never a whit. Even so man hath some knowledge of the troublesome things of this world, but his sight cannot pierce unto the celestial and divine light. Therefore it falleth out often, that being beguiled by his own sense and reason, instead of Good and joy, he chooseth and followeth after that which is evil and full of grief. For when the affection of the heart, which naturally desireth Good and seeketh after joy, is miss and deceived by human reason, it easily embraceth evil in place of Good, and that under some vain show of good, which seemeth to be in that evil thing it chooseth. And although at the first the heart feeleth not that which happeneth unto it, yet hath it leisure enough after to complain of the torment, which is always equal both for age and time, to the fault committed, and to the abuse of those gifts and graces which God hath placed in the nature of the soul. Forasmuch then as the heart is the beginning of life, we may well know, that God hath not without good cause placed therein such vehement affections of joy & grief, which serve either to preserve or to destroy it, and have for their companions hope and fear, as we will declare hereafter. For by these affections God would give us pricks and solicitors, to cause us to think seriously of that lesson, which David giveth us, when he saith, Taste ye and see how gracious the Lord is: Psa. 34. 8, 9, 10. blessed is the man that trusteth in him. Fear the Lord ye his Saints: for nothing wanteth to them that fear him. The Lions do lack and suffer hunger, but they which seek the Lord shall want nothing that is good. What man is he that desireth life, and loveth long days for to see good? Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile. Eschew evil and do good, seek peace and follow after it. The Prophet showeth here plainly, wherein true life & felicity consisteth: and the reason thereof he setteth down afterward, namely, that the Lord looketh both upon the good and bad, and that as he preserveth the good, so he rooteth out the remembrance of the wicked from off the earth. Vers. 19 21. 22. Therefore he saith afterward, Great are the troubles of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him out of all. Malice shall slay the wicked, and they that hate the righteous shall perish. The Lord redeemeth the souls of his servants, and none that trust in him shall perish. Of the joy of the godly. Wherefore as the children of God that are partakers of his promises, can not be without great joy in their hearts, which feedeth and preserveth them, and causeth them to live happily, through the testimony and taste which they have of the sweetness, goodness and favour of God towards them: so contrariwise, perpetual sorrow dwelleth in the heart of the wicked, who cannot have that joy in them, because they want that which should bring it unto them. For howsoever it seemeth that there is no joy in the world but theirs, yet they never have any true joy, neither indeed can have. For they seek not for it, neither do they know what it is. And therefore in stead of seeking it in God in whom only it resteth, they seek it in creatures, and in all kind of vanity, and yet find nothing but in offending the majesty of God. For this cause jesus Christ hath long since pronounced their sentence saying, Lu●e. 6. 21. matth. 5. 4. Esay 61. 3. Wobe to you that laugh, for ye shall weep. Contrariwise, ye that weep are happy, for ye shall laugh. Blessed are they that mourn: that is to say, that feel their miseries, and seek for joy and consolation in God: for they shall be comforted. After speaking to his disciples, he sayeth, Verily, verily I say unto you that ye shall weep and lament, joh. 16. 20, 21. and the world shall rejoice: ye shall sorrow, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy. And then he compareth their sorrow and their joy to that which a woman with child hath, which is pained so long as she is in travail, but when she seethe it borne, she receiveth joy, and soon forgetteth her anguish. Whereby the word of God teacheth us, that the grief of good men shall be turned into double joy, that their sorrow shall be short, and their felicity of long continuance. For there is one joy even in being delivered from evil, although it be not so great as when any Good happeneth unto us. But the joy is doubled, when besides this deliverance, there cometh unto us some joy which we had not, which is procured unto us by means of that pain and evil which we suffered. Therefore our Saviour saith further to this effect, Ye are now in sorrow: but I will see you again, and your hearts shall rejoice, and your joy shall no man take from you. If this joy can not be taken away, it is eternal, so that death itself can not abolish it. Whereupon it followeth, that it remaineth yet after death, and that there is an other life after this in which we shall have fullness of joy. Therefore we may well call it our own, seeing it always continueth with us. For if it were not so, jesus Christ who is the truth itself should not be true. But as he cannot lie, so we may assure ourselves of his promise. For seeing it is grounded on him, and upon his grace, resurrection, and immortal life, we may be as certainly persuaded of it, as we are assured of his resurrection, and of his eternal joy and life, wherein he liveth and reigneth for evermore. Wherefore all those to whom it is promised, and that are assured of the fruition thereof by faith in him, have just occasion to live in great joy So that Saint Paul not without good cause saith, Philip. 44. Rejoice always in the Lord, and again I say rejoice. But of the joy of carnal men we must say as Solomon writeth, Eccles. 7. 4, 6. Prou. 6. 25. That it is better to go to the house of mourning, then to the house of feasting. And that there is away that seemeth right to a man, but the issue thereof is the way of death: yea, in laughter, the heart shall be grieved, and the end of joy is sorrow. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. For they think of nothing but of jollity, whereas wise men meditate on the miseries of this world. Therefore we may know how greatly Epicures, How worldlings deceive themselves. and such as give themselves to pleasures and dissoluteness beguile themselves. For they think there is no joy nor pleasure but in their life, and that there is no life more sad or melancholy, then that of the children and servants of God. But it is clean contrary. For they that fear and honour GOD, have more joy in their heart in the midst of their greatest sorrows, by reason of that sense and feeling engraven in them of heavenly and eternal joy, which thy certainly expect and begin already to taste here. than all worldlings and carnal men can have in the greatest triumphs of all their pleasures. Now, as there are two kinds of joy in the hear of men, so are there also of sorrows. For we do not only feel joy for some Good, or sorrow for some evil, which we now taste of, but also for that which we attend and look for. Concerning this latter kind of joy, What hope is. it is properly called Hope, which is an affection and motion of the heart, whereby it wisheth some Good to come, and prepareth to open itself and to receive it. Therefore we said before, that Hope was comprehended under desire, unto which it giveth form and being. For Hope is a desire joined with confidence, that the Good which we wish for will come to pass. Therefore the motions of joy and Hope are very like, seeing Hope is always mingled with joy, neither is there any difference but in the time, Difference between joy and hope. because the one is of a present Good, and the other of that which is looked for. In the mean time Hope hath no evidence or science, but is grounded only upon conjecture of opinion, or likelihood and probability, or possibility. And yet there is nothing so light, or so small, or strange, unto which the heart will not easily join itself and take hold of it, when it seeketh for helps and props to ground and stay itself upon. Nevertheless there is great difference between having already, and hoping for a thing, namely, in respect of men, and of hope, which hath no other grounds, than those of which I now made mention. But when the expectation is grounded upon God & his promises, Of the true and certain hope. it is as sure of that which it expecteth, as if it did already possess it: which is very comfortable to a man, in respect of that which happeneth to them, who can have no certain hope or expectation of Good. For although there be hope, yet if it be not grounded upon God, it can bring no certain joy, or of any long continuance. Besides, when such a one shall fail of his hope, his grief will be doubled. Wherefore they that build not their hope upon the word of God, can have no true and certain hope, but they feed themselves only with their fantasies, as they that dream they find great riches, which vanish away when they awake. Such is the hope of the wicked, & of all worldly and carnal men. Nevertheless the persuasion of hope, The profit and necessity of hope which holdeth us up with the expectation of better things, is very pleasant and necessary for the life of man, in the midst of so many miseries, of so many sharp & almost intolerable pains and travails which accompany them. So that it bringeth great comfort to men, and is in stead of sauce unto them, without which they would find all things to be not only without taste, but also of a very bitter and unpleasant taste. Therefore hath the providence of God provided a remedy for this, namely, that hope should breed of very light causes, & should lean & stay itself easily upon them: as if itself were very light, or very hooked and gluish, being ready to take hold of, and to retain whatsoever it meeteth withal, or can lay hands upon, to ground and lean thereon. Now if men find so great comfort in hope such as it is, and being laid upon so weak a foundation, it is easy to judge, what joy the faithful receive by that most certain hope of eternal life, and of all the good things that God hath promised them: in regard whereof S. Paul saith, Ephes. 4. 4. There is one body & one spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your vocation. Rom. 5. 3, 4, 5. It is not then without cause that he saith in another place, We rejoice in tribulations, knowing that tribulation bringeth forth patience, and patience experience, and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed: because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the holy Ghost, which is given unto us: Psal. 25. 3. as if he should say, that they which stay themselves upon such a hope, shall never be ashamed nor deceived. For the expectation thereof is never frustrated, but it hath always a good & a happy issue. For when we perceive that we are deceived of our hope, we are ashamed and confounded. But this never happeneth to true hope, which proceedeth of a sound faith in jesus Christ, Rom. 5. 2. by means whereof we have access through him unto this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice under the hope of the glory of God, as Saint Paul said alitle before. Therefore he exhorteth christians to rejoice in hope, Rom. 12. 12. & 15. 13. & calleth God the God of Hope, praying that he would fill the Romans with all joy & peace in believing, that they may abound in hope through the power of the holy ghost. And in the epistle to the Hebrews, Hebr. 6. 19 hope is compared to a sure and steadfast ancre of the soul. For this cause God is so often called in the holy Scriptures the hope and fortress of his people and of his. jer. 17. 7, 13, 17. psal. 65. 5. and 91. 2, 9 psal. 31, 1. and 71. Psal. 118. 8, 9 It is written also, that they which hope in the Lord, do rejoice. For he that hopeth in him shallbe healed and preserved. Therefore it is not without cause, that the spirit of God so often repeateth unto us this sentence, Blessed are they that put their trust in the Lord: for they shall never be confounded. It is better to hope in him then to put any confidence in Princes. But unfaithful and wicked men can never be partakers of such a Good, because they have no such hope. Prou. 10. 28. job 8. 13, 14, 15 For it is written, The expectation of the just is gladness, but the hope of the wicked shall perish. And again, The hope of the hypocrite shall perish, his confidence shall be cut off, and his truct shall be as the house of a spider. He shall lean upon his house, but it shall not stand, he shall hold him fast by it, yet shall it not endure. But to prosecute our matter, now that we have seen the hope of good men together with their joy, let us consider what remaineth to the wicked of their vain and false joy, namely, Fear, which is the second kind of sorrow mentioned by us. Tell us then, AMANA, what Fear is, with the nature and effects thereof. Of Fear, and of the nature and effects thereof towards the body, the mind, and soul, and how it troubleth them: of the true harness and armour against Fear. Chap. 46. AMANA. As wicked men can have no certain hope of any good they look for, so they never have any true joy of any present good, because they always forsake the true Good, and stay in that which is not Good but in their opinion and fantasy, neither do they at any time refer the end of good things unto God, but look only upon the things themselves. Therefore it is never in their power to rejoice in that joy which they account to be their true joy, but only by offending God, as we heard before. Which is the cause why they seek after nothing more than to hide themselves, The wick●d can not abide to speak or hear of God. & to departed from him as much as they can possible, so that they would never hear any speech of him, but desire to bury the remembrance of him for ever, because they can hear nothing spoken of him but as of their judge, neither think of him, but he awakeneth their conscience, which they labour with might and main to rock asleep. Wherein they take a clean contrary course to that which they ought to follow to obtain the true Good. For seeing God is the sovereign Good of all creatures, what Good can they find that is greater, wherein they can fully rejoice and satisfy themselves? Or what other Good dare they promise to themselves to find without him, and when they have him for their enemy? But they are like to drunken men, who cannot understand this Divinity, until they have slept out their wine, and are awaked out of their drunkenness. Then shall they know what is true and false joy, what is good and bad Hope, when their joy shall be turned into sorrow, their expectation and hope into fear and terror, wherewith the wicked shall be continually haunted, as the Spirit of God teacheth us. Now, as sorrow is a grief for some evil which a man presently feeleth, shutting up the heart as unwilling to receive it: so fear is a sorrow, What fear is. which the heart conceiveth of some looked for evil, that may come unto it. Therefore it restraineth the heart also and closeth it up, as being desirous to avoid the evil. We see then that there is the same difference betwixt sorrow and fear in respect of evil, that is between joy and Hope in regard of Good. So that we may well say, that Fear is not only a fantasy and imagination of evil approaching, or a perturbation of the soul proceeding from the opinion it hath of some evil to come, but it is also a contraction and closing up of the heart, which cometh from that which every one judgeth to be evil for himself, when he thinketh it is at hand and will light upon him. Therefore first of all it draweth in and shutteth up the heart, and so weakeneth the same. Whereupon nature being desirous to relieve and secure it, sendeth heat unto it from the upper parts: and if that be not sufficient, she draweth away that heat also which is in the neither parts. How paleness, cold and shaking are b●ed in the body. By which doing she suddenly calleth back the blood and spirits unto the heart, and then followeth a general paleness and cold in all the outward parts, and chief in the face, with a shivering throughout the whole body. For seeing the first moving thereof is in the heart, the other always followeth: so that when the heart trembleth, the whole body doth so likewise. Whereupon it followeth, that by reason of the great beating and panting of the heart, the tongue faltereth and the voice is interrupted. How death cometh through fear. Yea it cometh to pass sometimes, that present death followeth a great and sudden fear, because all the blood retiring to the heart choketh it, and utterly extinguisheth natural heat and the spirits, so that death must needs ensue thereof. Therefore we cannot doubt but that fear hath grea● power over all the body, and over life itself. For this cause Esaias, after he had denounced the judgement of God against the Babylonians, & the coming of the Medes and Persians, by whom their city should be taken and themselves slain, Esay 13. 7, 8. saith thus: Therefore shall all hands be weakened, and all men's hearts shall melt: which is as much to say, as that their hearts shall fail them for fear. And therefore he addeth, They shallbe afraid: anguish & sorrow shall take them, and they shall have pain, as a woman that travaileth: every one shallbe amazed at his neighbour, & their faces shall be like flames of fire. A place of Esay expounded. But here we will note what he meaneth by these flames of fire. For if the face wax pale through fear, as it falleth out for the most part, it seemeth that it cannot be inflamed, for than it would be read rather than pale. But we are to know, that when nature will strengthen the heart, she sendeth unto it from all parts, succours of heat and blood, to encourage it the more. Therefore they that have but a little warm blood in the heart are naturally the greater cowards: The cause of cowardliness, and the sign of courage. so that it is a better token of courage when the face is pale through fear, then when it waxeth red. For this cause Cato misliked that a child should become pale in the face through shame, in stead of being red: and that a soldier should look red in time of danger, in stead of being pale. For as it is a token of impudency in a child not to blush for shame, so is it a sign of cowardliness in a man of war to look red when he seethe himself in any danger. Therefore a pale countenance showeth that the blood and natural heat are gone to the heart to strengthen it: but when it is red, that argueth that the blood and heat are not much gone inward to strengthen the heart: whereupon it is made more weak, and so the fear of it is greater and the trembling much more. And because the blood and natural heat mount upward in stead of descending, therefore doth the face look red. Which argueth want of courage and a fainting heart: as it befell the Babylonians, whose hearts were possessed with fear and terror at the coming of their enemies, because God would give them over into their hander. We might also refer this redness and inflammation of visage to the pains and griefs which they were to endure. For when one is pressed with grief, his countenance is red and fiery: because men are then as it were shut up in a fire. And as the face is red through Fear, for the reasons set down by us: so if the natural heat leave the heart and go downward, the fear is not only increased, but it bringeth withal a looseness of the belly. Therefore it is written in the Book of job, where it is spoken of the fear that Liviathan bringeth upon men, job 41. 16. that the mighty tremble at his majesty, and purge themselves through his movings: that is, through fear of him. Hereupon a heathen Poet, when he would note a fearful and dastardly fellow, saith to this purpose, That his heart was fallen into his heels. Effects of Fear in the soul. Now if fear moveth all the body in this sort, no doubt but it greatly moveth also the mind and the whole soul of man. For it so troubleth the mind, that it confoundeth all the thoughts thereof: as we may try by this, that many times the least fancy of evil that entereth into our brain, is enough to trouble the mind very much. For as imagination and fancy bear great sway over the affections, so they show what power they have, chiefly in the affection of Fear. And surely among all living creatures, none hath such a confused fear, or is more amazed therewith then man is. Therefore we may well say, that no misery is greater, no bondage more shameful, servile or vile, than fear is. For it maketh men very abjects, flatterers, and suspicious, and so daunteth their courage, that it leaveth them as it were half dead, yea, causeth them sometimes to despair utterly, so that they are as it were Images destitute of counsel, not knowing which ways to help themselves. For this cause the holy Scriptures make often mention of a heart that is powered out like water for fear, josua 7. 5. Psal. 22. 14. jerem. 4. 9 or that melteth like wax. And in jeremy it is said, In that day, saith the Lord, the heart of the king shall perish, and the heart of the Princes, and the Priests shall be astonished, and the Prophets shall wonder. For truly if a man be once possessed with fear, especially if he be inclined thereunto by nature, but above all, if GOD terrify him, a man may well exhort him to boldness and to take courage unto him, and allege all the reasons that can be to strengthen him against Fear, but it will be to small purpose. Therefore one saith very well, that no harness can be found, which is able to encourage fear and to make it hardy. For if any Armourers had the skill to make such harness, they should want no customers. But only God is able to arm us against this, because it is he that giveth or taketh away the heart of man, that sendeth fear or boldness, as pleaseth him. For although he hath sowed the seeds of them both in the nature of the body and soul of man, with the means also that lead thereunto, yet he hath not subjecteth himself to all those means, no more than he hath to the whole order of nature: but hath always reserved in his power both Fear and faintness of heart, and boldness and assurance, which are their contraries. The definitions of assurance and boldness. For assurance is a certain persuasion and trust, whereby we are confirmed in danger against evils that threaten us and come near us: and boldness is a confidence, which pricketh forward the courage either to repulse evils, or to follow after good things, which are excellent and hard to obtain. Therefore when GOD is minded to punish men, he taketh away their hearts whom he will destroy, causing them to tremble and to fly for fear: as it is written in joshua, where Rahab speaking to the spies of the Israelites that were sent to jericho, josua 2. 9 useth these words: I know that the Lord hath given you this land; for the fear of you is fallen upon us, and all the inhabitants of the land faint because of you. Contrariwise, our GOD heartneth and emboldeneth those by whom he will overthrow others, and to whom he mindeth to grant victory. Therefore it is written, Psal. 53. 5. that he will cause the fear of his servants to fall upon his enemies, that the wicked and such as have not called upon GOD, shall fear where there is no cause of fear, and shall tremble and fly for fear, although there be none that persecute them. So that if we do desire to find a harness that will arm our heart thoroughly against all fear, let us put on the armour of the true fear of GOD, and of sound Faith in him. Psal. 112. 1, 7, 8 For as the Prophet David sayeth, Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord: the just shall live in assured hope: he shall never be moved, he shall not be afraid of evil tidings, for his heart is fixed and believeth in the Lord: his heart is established, therefore he will not fear. For whosoever feareth God and walketh in innocency, God is with him: and he that hath God on his side, what can he or aught he to fear? For when he is with us, who shallbe against us? May he not well say with David, Psal 56. 3, 11. and 118. 6. prou. 14. 26. When I was afraid, I trusted in thee. In God do I trust, I will not be afraid what man can do unto me. In the fear of the Lord, (saith the wise man,) there is assured strength, and his children shall have hope. Therefore jesus Christ saith to his Disciples, john 14. 1. Let not your heart be troubled. And then he showeth them the means, saying, Ye believe in God, believe also in me. For nothing but faith in God through jesus Christ is able to give us this assurance. On the other side, if we be not armed with the fear of GOD, and with true faith, that we may be certain of his help and providence, and of his love towards us, there is nothing that can assure us: but rather that which is written in the Law will befall us, L●uit. 26. 36. I will, saith the Lord, send a faintness into their hearts in the land of their enemies, and the sound of a leaf shaken shall chase them, and, They shall flee as fleeing from a sword, and they shall fall, no man pursuing them. And in an other place where mention is made of them that despise the Law of GOD, and rebel against the Lord, it is said, The Lord shall give thee a trembling heart, Deu. 28. 65, 66, 67. and looking to return till thine eyes fall out, and a sorrowful mind, Thy life shall hang before thee, thou shalt fear both night and day, and shalt have none assurance of thy life. In the morning thou shalt say, would God it were evening, and at evening thou shalt say, would God it were morning, for the fear of thine heart which thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes, which thou shalt see. Therefore when we see, that in many great and dangerous affairs, the boldest and most courageous are oftentimes the greatest cowards, and most astonished and carried away with fear and terror, and even many times without any great cause are amazed and void of counsel, whereas contrariwise cowards by nature grow to be most hardy in the midst of dangers, thereby GOD showeth very well, whether strength and courage come from him or from men, God is the author of courage. and who is to have the praise thereof. But now that we have seen the first motions of the heart, in the affections of joy, of sorrow, of hope, and of fear, and know that they have respect to good or evil, either present or to come, let us learn in the next place, that as contemplation consisteth in the rest of the Spirit after the discourse of reason and judgement, so after the heart hath the fruition of that Good which belongeth unto it, it is still and quiet, resting itself therein: which rest is called Delight or pleasure, of which the order of our speech requireth that thou shouldest dilate, ARAM, at this present. Of the delight and pleasure that followeth every joy, and of the moderation that is required therein: of divers degrees of pleasures, and how men abuse them, especially those pleasures, which are received by the corporal senses. Chap. 47. ARAM. It is certain, that all the affections which God hath placed in the nature of man, were given unto him in regard of so many good things, which were meet and convenient for his will to long after and to desire. For joy and hope, which afford pleasure and consolation to the heart, were bestowed upon him to be spurs and solicitors to induce him to seek after God his sovereign Good, Why God hath given men affections. in whom alone he may find all delight, rest and pleasure. As for sorrow and fear, they are sure testimonies unto men of the judgement of God, and executioners of his vengeance: to this end that the fear of evil, which may come unto them, should keep them in awe, and that sorrow and grief for evil which they have already committed, should be unto them both hangman and punishment. It is true that these affections being natural in every one, bring forth contrary effects both in the good and in the bad. For the children of God never separate his power from his goodness, and the fear which they have of him, is not joined with hatred, The divers effects of fear in the godly and in the wicked. but with trust in his mercy, which moveth them to be grieved for offending him, and to love him, to seek him and to rejoice in him, and to have him in singular honour and veneration. But the wicked who fear and tremble, like to malefactors fearing their judge, hate and despite God, desiring nothing more than to escape his hands, and to flee from him as far as they can. If they be grieved, it is because they may not enjoy false joys, and unlawful pleasures. Therefore that which is given them for Good, is turned by them into sin and evil, and pleasure into pain and grief. But here we must call to mind what we have spoken already concerning the signification of this word Good, as it is commonly taken, not considering whether it be true or false, but only according to that opinion which men have of it. For there are many, whose fancy is sufficient to afford them as much pleasure, as if indeed they enjoyed that Good, A fantastical Good. which they think to have. We see many such fools in the world. For some are Popes or Cardinals by fantasy: others Emperors or Kings and great Princes, or otherwise very rich, or possessors of some such great Good. And yet such fantastical fellows are better contented and pleased with that which they think they have in their foolish imagination, than they that have them in truth, unto whom commonly they serve for nothing but to torment them more. Therefore I know not which of them I should esteem more foolish and fantastical. Who are to be accounted wise men. For none ought to be taken for truly wise men, and of ripe judgement, but they who know that all things in the world and under the sun, are only vanity, as Solomon showeth in his book of the Preacher. Therefore he saith thus: Eccles. 2. 1. I said in mine heart, Go to now, I will prove thee with joy: therefore take thou pleasure in pleasant things: and behold this also is vanity. I said of laughter, thou art mad, and of joy, what is this that thou dost? But to go forward with our matter, let us consider what delight and pleasure is, so far as men may enjoy it in this life. It is then a rest which the heart taketh in the enjoying of some Good that it liketh: even as contemplation is the rest of the spirit after the discourse of Reason and judgement. Now we are to note, that there is no delight and pleasure in any thing, Of delight and pleasure what it is, and how it is received. except there be some agreement between that part or power that receiveth pleasure, and that which bringeth the same unto it. This agreement cannot be without good proportion of the one with the other, whereby there is some similitude and resemblance between them. For this cause also, the thing that bringeth delight must not exceed too much, either in greatness, or in smallness above the power which receiveth it, in regard of that part or instrument whereby the pleasure is received. Hereupon when we spoke of the eyes and ears, we showed that light was to be dispensed to the eyes, and sound to the ears, in good measure and moderation. For if the light be too great, the eyes cannot receive it: insomuch that they will be hurt and offended, in stead of receiving delight. On the other side if it be too little, it will not suffice them: and therefore it must be between both. And as every man's sight is sharper and stronger, or more dull and weaker, so must the light be dispensed according to that measure. The like may be said of sounds in regard of the ears, and of all other things in respect of those senses unto which they agree. And if this moderation be requisite for the outward senses, it is no less necessary in respect of the inward senses, and of all the powers of the soul. Therefore as God is incomprehensible and infinite, so is he received with delight of that part of the soul, which cometh nearest unto his nature, and which is most incomprehensible, most ample, and most infinite in regard of other parts, and that is the Spirit and Understanding. On the other side, How God communicateth himself unto men. because there is no proportion or agreement in greatness and infiniteness between GOD and the Soul, she receiveth and comprehendeth him by such means, whereby he may be applied unto her, and she made after a sort capable of him. For if he should present himself unto her, such as he is in his high and divine majesty, especially man being in this estate wherein he is in this mortal life, she could not bear so high majesty, as being too exceeding great for her. So that instead of receiving pleasure, joy and delight, she should not only be very much frighted, but even wholly overwhelmed and swallowed up as a drop of water would be consumed being thrown into a great fire: as we may judge by so many examples as are in the holy Scriptures to this purpose. For when God manifested himself to the patriarchs, he never appeared unto them in the greatness of his majesty, but took unto him always some shape, and used such means as were agreeable to their nature. Therefore also it is very requisite, that GOD should descend and apply himself unto our small capacity, to the end we may enjoy him and his Goods, and take pleasure and delight in them. For this cause, he hath not only appointed the ministery of his word and Sacraments to show and communicate himself unto us by them, applying himself unto our nature and capacity, but hath also manifested himself in flesh, in the person of his son jesus Christ, to become more like unto us, and to draw nearer unto us in our own nature, to this end that we might enjoy him and all his benefits the better, and receive more true and entire delight in them. And thus much for this point of the agreement that ought to be between the thing that delighteth, and that which receiveth pleasure. Next we are to note, that a man may take pleasure by all those parts whereby he may know, as well by the internal as the external senses, and by all the powers of the mind and soul. Of the divers degrees of pleasures according to every man's nature. Whereupon it followeth, that as every one is more or less addicted to any of these parts, so he delighteth most in those pleasures, which he may receive by that part unto which he is most given. Therefore we see that the base and more vile sort of people, and such as are most rude and ignorant, are more moved by corporal and external things, which move the bodily senses, then by spiritual and high things, that are more meet for the spirit, and wherein it taketh greater pleasures. But with prudent and wise men, and such as are more spiritual, it is otherwise. So that as every one's nature is more noble and excellent, or more vile and abject, and according to the nature of those things wherein every one delighteth, so is the delight, either more noble and excellent, or more base and contemptible, more pure & quiet, or more impure and troublesome, of longer or of shorter continuance, and hath more or fewer pleasures, The delights of the bodily senses. and those either more or less tedious. Now among those delights which a man may take by the bodily senses, the basest and most abject of all, is that which is received by the sense of touching. For as it is most earthy of all the external senses, so are the pleasures that are taken by it. That delight which is taken by the sense of tasting, is a little more honest and less contemptible, and yet is it brutish enough. As for the delight that may be received by the sense of smelling, it is very light, and nothing so pleasant, as the irksomeness that cometh of the contrary, is unpleasant. For a good smell bringeth not so great pleasure, as an evil smell causeth displeasure: beside, that this sense of smelling is not so sharp in man as in beasts. And concerning those pleasures, which a man may receive by the ears, they have some more beauty and excellency in them. For the more they hold of the nature of the air, they are so much the less earthy and brutish. And those which we receive by the eyes, are yet more excellent than all the rest, because the eyes are of the nature of the fire, which cometh nearest to the celestial nature. And thus much for those pleasures, which a man may receive by the corporal senses, of which the noblest and best are base and of less excellency than the least of those, which we may receive by the basest parts & powers of the soul. The delights of the internal senses. For, as much as the soul is more noble and more worthy than the body, so much is the least thing in it greater and more magnifical, then that which is most noble and most excellent in the body. And as there are divers degrees of pleasures according to the variety of the external senses, and according to the difference that is betwixt them and the powers of the soul: so is it between the powers of the soul, as some of them are more noble and more divine than others. For those which appertain to the nourishing and generative powers, are more corporal, earthy and brutish, than those that belong to the vital parts and to the heart. And those that are proper to the spirit and mind, are purest and best of all: among which, that delight that is in contemplation is the chiefest, Contemplation is the greatest delight of the soul. as we may judge by that which we have already spoken. Wherefore if we would consider well of all these degrees of delight and pleasure, and could judge well of them, we should not be so deceived in them as commonly we are, preferring the least before the greatest, the basest before the noblest, those that are most earthy before them that are most heavenly, Of the abuse of pleasures. and those that fade soon before them that continue longest. Besides, the very enjoying of every one of them ought to suffice to make us know their nature, and the difference between the one and the other, and how far one is to be preferred before another. For how do we see men given over to those pleasures wherein they delight, not only in eating and drinking, in dainty morsels and delicate drinks, but also in other carnal pleasures that are more earthy and vile, especially when they are excessive and unmeasurable, as they are in whoredom? For those which we receive in eating and drinking, belong to the sense of taste, which is brutish enough: but these others to the sense of touching, which is a great deal more brutish We know by experience also, that these senses are sooner wearied and tired with their pleasures, than any other, and that such delights commonly bring with them more yrkesomness and loathing, than joy and pleasure: leaving many times behind them a long and shameful repentance for pollutions received by them. The pleasures that belong to the other senses, as they are of longer continuance, so they weary not a man so quickly, especially those that delight the sight. Yea the base and more vile the pleasures are, the sooner do they loath a man, Against the immoderate use of pleasures. as they know by experience that are given to whoredom. For how insatiable soever they be, yet can they not but be glutted therewith: neither are they able to continue their unruliness so long in that pleasure (howsoever they want no goodwill) as in the pleasures that come by eating and drinking. Neither can the greatest gluttons, drunkards, and dainty mouthed persons follow so long together after the delights of their gluttony, drunkenness, and dainty diet, as they may after those which they receive either in smelling, or in hearing, or in seeing. As for the pains that are to be taken in the obtaining and using of these pleasures, the more earthy & brutish the delight is, the greater labour is to be had about it: and the more excessively the pleasure is used, the greater hurt cometh thereby, as we daily see in gluttons, drunkards, and whoremongers, by the testimony of those diseases which take hold of them through their excess. Thus than we may learn by the use of those pleasures, which are received by the bodily and outward senses, which of them are to be preferred before others, with the agreement necessary therein, and the moderation that always aught to be observed in them. But to go forward with our matter, we are now to compare together the delights and pleasures that are received by the spiritual and internal senses, and to understand what difference there is between the use of the pleasures of the spirit and of the body, and how the one drive away the other. Now let us hear what ACHITOB will tell us of this point. Of the comparison of pleasures received by the internal senses: and how men descend by degrees from the best to the basest pleasures: of the difference between the use of spiritual delights and corporal: and how the one chase the other. Chap. 48. ACHITOB. Experience daily teacheth us, that we need but a little grief to diminish a great pleasure, or otherwise to take it clean away, and to change it into great displeasure, yea to turn a great joy into extreme sorrow and sadness. But few there are that meditate and know the cause thereof. The cause why a little grief is stronger in us than a great pleasure. The truth is, we can think of no other cause, then of the corruption of our nature, of the estate and disposition of our body, of the course of our age and life, which decline continually and wax worse and worse. Therefore a small grief findeth greater strength within us to cause our heart to give back and to close up itself, and wholly to cast us down, than a great joy and delight is able to open and enlarge it, and to sustain and hold us up. For a little force will throw down this shaking and reeling body, but there had need to be a great deal of strength to underprop and stay it up firm and steadfast. On the other side we can more easily want pleasures, than not feel their contrary griefs. For we do not perceive so much the want of a good which we have not, as the presence of an evil, which we suffer. For in the first, it seemeth that we want nothing, but in the other the sense is afflicted, and the sound estate and disposition thereof is clean taken away and overthrown. Now if we desire to feel such griefs as little as we may, and to approach as near as our nature will permit, to true delight and pleasures, we must withdraw ourselves from vile and abject things, and contemplate most high and excellent things. Now as we have learned by the former discourse, that those delights and pleasures which are received by the chiefest senses that savour least of the earth, are of longer continuance than the other, so we are to know, Of the pleasures of fantasy. that the pleasures of the fancy are more stable and firm than those which come by the corporal senses. Hereof it is, that men are cloyed a great deal sooner not only with the pleasures of eating and drinking and of other more abject things, but also of sweet smells, of music, of harmonical sounds, and of the beholding of goodly sights, then with those good that are in the fancy and in opinion, whereby the mind is deceived, as namely the getting and possessing of silver, of riches, of power, of honours, and of glory. For these Goods are goods rather in opinion then in truth. But because fancy propoundeth them unto herself for Goods, therefore she taketh pleasure and delight in them. Therefore the covetous man delighteth in his gold, silver, and riches: and the ambitious man in his power, gloy and honours, which are the pleasures of fancy: and with which she is not so soon wearied, as the body is with corporal pleasures: but contrariwise, the more she hath, the more her delight increaseth, The pleasures of reason and of the mind. and becometh insatiable. But the pleasures of reason, of the mind and of the spirit, continue a great deal longer than they: because the spirit is not weary or tired, but is recreated and refreshed. But none can judge well of this, but those that have had experience thereof. No marvel therefore if such men as are addicted to these other more base and earthly pleasures, mock and deride them that contemn their delights, and make so great account of these spiritual and heavenly pleasures, that they are content to renounce all the rest, and to forego all the goods in the world that they may enjoy these, as we see it was with those holy personages that have tasted of them. As for those carnal and beastlike men, we may say of them as we do of hogs, that delight more in a puddle or sink, then in precious stones or sweet odours, namely that they follow that which is most agreeable to their natural disposition, because they want judgement to discern the value of those things which they contemn and make no account of. Now among the pleasures of the spirit, those that consist in contemplation are of their nature by which we shall become blessed in the the life that lasteth for ever. Therefore it is no strange thing, if many of the Philosophers affirmed, that this kind of life was the best of all and most excellent: and if Aristotle placed the end of all Goods and of beatitude in contemplation. Now if these Philosophers that never knew what was the true and chief Good, did notwithstanding mount up so high, what a shame is it for us to whom the sovereign Good is revealed from heaven, if we stay and as it were rot in these base, brutish and supposed pleasures? Therefore we must consider, how we come down by degrees from the highest unto the lowest step, by reason of this heavy burden wherewith our nature corrupted through sin, is sore charged: whereupon she is driven downward to seek for delights and pleasures, How we descend from true pleasures to false delights. and to recreate herself in these earthly things. But according as she retaineth more or less of her first purity and nobility, so she keepeth higher, or descendeth lower from the contemplation of the highest and most excellent things, to those that belong to the affections of this life. Therefore some take pleasure in the administration either of the common wealth, or of their domestical affairs. There are others, who not being able to soar up so high, delight themselves in the knowledge and remembrance only of those things that were done by other men, yea many times in histories and fables. Some take pleasure in handiworks, and in such arts and occupations as belong to them. There are many, that cannot apply their minds to so good things as those, but give them the bridle to recreate and delight themselves either in unprofitable sports and pastimes, or in vile and abject idleness. Yea there are others that come lower. For they suffer themselves to be overcome by the allurements of their corporal senses, so that they fall into brutish pleasures, as if they were become brute beasts, and as if their mind and spirit were wholly swallowed up and plunged in the most bottomless gulf of immoderate and excessive pleasure. And when a man is come down follow, he can descend no lower. But yet he may seek after pleasures cross-wise, Of pleasures which men seek cross-ways. and turn clean out of the way from reason and judgement, feeding and delighting his fancy and imagination with false opinions. From hence it is that he hath found out nobility, renown, glory, popularity, favour of Princes, and all other vain things that consist in external goods. Yea if he could, he would gladly be deprived of that spirit and mind which God hath given him, that he might not retain and keep any gravity or severity beseeming his nature, but plunge and give over himself with full sail to follow all kind of pleasure, voluptuousness and delight. For his nature is become so nice and tender, that he can away with nothing that would molest him: so that every little burden weigheth very heavy upon him. Again, it is already so pressed with the farthel of corruption, that of itself it draweth downward continually, and needeth not be driven that way by any other means. Therefore a great many, that of themselves would not seem to stoop so low, fearing to lose any part of their reputation, if they should not keep that gravity that beseemeth their person, find means to do that by others which they durst not do of themselves. Hereof it cometh, that they delight in Mummers, fools, tumblers, and oaths of like trades, which are not only unprofitable for the life of man, but very hurtful also, by reason of the corruptions which they bring with them. In all which things we may see the vanity of our corrupt nature, and of those pleasures it taketh delight in. But there are other notable reasons, whereby we know what difference there is between the pleasures of the mind and spirit, and those of the corporal senses. Of the use of the delights of the spirit. For the spirit needeth no space of time wherein to intermit his pleasures, and then to take them in hand again, but only changeth them from one to another, namely from the greater to the less, or from the less to the greater. In the mean time I say, there is no intermission, but it is continually busied: only it changeth from one delight to another. For seeing our spirit is in continual motion, it can in no wise cease from doing, unless the power from whence the motion thereof proceedeth, be stayed by some impediment of the instruments which it useth. How the spirit is hindered in his actions. As in deed it falleth out in a drunken man, whose spirit and mind is as it were buried by those vapours that trouble it, of which the brain is full. The like is in an Apoplexy, or falling sickness. For these are violent things, and such as resist the nature of the spirit. But presently after the violence ceaseth which hindereth his power, he falleth to his accustomed action again, for the doing whereof he needeth no external aid, but only that all lets and impedients should be removed and taken out of the way. Which being removed the spirit and mind cannot be idle, but necessarily thinketh of somewhat continually, about which it is occupied. Therefore whosoever laboureth to stay it altogether from thinking, so that it should not be busied about something, it is all one as if he went about to change the nature of the fire, and to keep it from burning, after it hath found convenient matter and is already kindled. For either it will be utterly extinguished, if the impediment it hath be stronger than it, or else being of greater force it will make way for itself. Therefore we had need to be well advised always what matter we minister to our spirit, and look that it be agreeable to the nature thereof, and beseeming the same, lest it should be distracted and wander after those things that might hurt it. How the spirit must be occupied. And when we would recreate the mind, seeing it is in continual action, we must so change the matters about which it is to be employed, that they be good and honest, howsoever they be divers and sundry. But it is not so with the corporal senses. For they must necessarily have some space of time to rest in even from their pleasures, and to cease for a while from using them: becave they are more fresh and pleasant after they have abstained for a time. But the spirit cannot rest. In the mean time the pleasures of the body, and those of the soul and spirit have one another in chase. How corporal and spiritual pleasures chase each other. Therefore they that are addicted to corporal pleasures, have less knowledge and feeling of those that are spiritual: and contrariwise they that delight in spiritual pleasures abstain from those that are corporal. For these delights are in continual combat one against another, so that they cannot be acquainted together, because they are contraries. This combat is such another as that which is between the flesh and the spirit. Moreover, we see by experience, that those delights which we receive of natural things have more force and are purer, and continue longer than artificial pleasures. For let a man show us the goodliest works that can be, either of gold or of silver, or pictures, or garments, or houses as curiously wrought as can be devised, either for beauty or cost, yet when we have seen them four or five times, we begin to be full of it, and take not so great pleasure therein as we did. But who is ever weary of beholding, Natural pleasures are more purethen artificial. I will not say the heavens, the sun, the moon, and the stars, but the earth, the sea, rivers, mountains, valleys, gardens, trees, herbs and flowers? The cause hereof is the agreement of nature. For we being natural, natural things are more agreeable unto us then artificial. And because we were created and made, not by the hand of a Painter and mortal man, but by the hand of the living God, who painteth living images and pictures, therefore we take greater delight in his handy works, then in the works of any other, how excellent a workman soever he be. And indeed they are are of far greater perfection than those that are made by the art of man. Therefore Art laboureth always to follow nature, and to express her works as near as it can: insomuch that they are accounted the best workmen, and men delight most in their doings, that come nearest unto nature. How much more than ought we to like the works of nature, and consequently God himself, who is the Author and Creator of nature, and of all her works? For the least work of his in nature is more excellent in his kind, than the perfectest work that human art is able to show. Now if we come from his natural works, to those that are supernatural and above the reach of nature, we shall find in them a great deal more matter of all kind of delight. Degrees to ascend up to sound and perfect delight. For if we could consider aright of these things, we would ascend up from artificial things, and from that delight which they afford us, even unto natural things, and from these unto the Author and Creator of them and of all nature, and there we would seek for our true delight and pleasure. Herein nature herself is our good Mistress, as she that leadeth us thereunto as it were by the hand. But our inconsiderateness, our blockishness and ingratitude is the cause, why we cannot learn this lesson of her, and why we have not the marvelous and excellent works of GOD and nature, in such due admiration as we ought to have. Whereupon it cometh to pass also, that we take not so great delight and pleasure in them, and that custom, which ought to increase this delight in us, is a mean rather to diminish the same. And by this means also we are kept from that admiration, which we ought to have of God the Woorkemaster of them, and of that delight and pleasure, which we should find in him, if we mounted up so high and sought him there. But because we are always musing about vile and abject things, we have no leisure to consider of and to contemplate higher and more wonderful things. Now to end this days speech, seeing we are taught that God hath given us the affections of joy and of sorrow, to induce and move us to seek him, to the end that by eschewing the evil that is contrary unto us, we might attain to that sovereign Good, which he hath prepared for us, and to that true delight, pleasure and bliss, which we may find in him, let us know, that we have good occasion to pray unto him incessantly, that he would vouchsafe so to lighten our senses and mind, and to rule all our affections and wills in such sort, that we may at the length attain thereunto. For than we shall not only be delivered from all sorrow and grief, but have the full fruition of perfect joy and perpetual delight. And to the end that we may go forward to morrow with our matter of the affections of the heart and soul, thou shalt entreat, ASER, of the affections of love, which follow those of which we have already spoken. The end of the sixth days work. THE SEVENTH days work. Of the affections of love, of the nature, kinds and object of it: of the beginning of friendship: of the virtue and force of alluring that is in likeness and in beauty: of the agreement that is between beauty and goodness. Chap. 49. ASER. If we know not thoroughly the affections of our soul, which, by reason of the corruption of our nature, are so many diseases in us, we shall never know ourselves well, nor the image of God, which is imprinted in our soul, nor the affection of his goodness towards us. The knowledge of the affections very requisite. Likewise we can never learn what pure and sound parts of the nature of the affections remain yet in man, & what is added thereunto by reason of sin that is in us, neither yet what virtue & vice are, except we truly know the nature of the affections. Moreover, without this knowledge, we can never make choice of good from evil, or of truth from lying. For being, as we must needs be during this life, subject unto and tossed on every side with an infinite number of strange passions, if they be unknown unto us, we cannot discern amongst a multitude of contrary opinions, which of them is soundest, every one of them pretending some show of good & of truth. Therefore as we saw yesterday the affections of joy and of sorrow, of hope and of fear, and of delight and pleasure, which follow joy, whereby we may conceive the contrary unto it, namely grief and torment which follow sorrow, so this day we are to proceed in learning what other affections there are of the heart and soul. I will begin then with the affection of love, What love is. which is a motion whereby the heart lusteth after that which is good indeed, or which seemeth unto it to be so, desiring to draw the good to itself, to the end it may enjoy the same. This affection cometh near to the nature of hope, but it is a great deal more hot. Therefore after the heart is once moved, it presently draweth unto it that thing which is offered for good, labouring as it were to have the fruition of some great Good. But let us consider how this affection is bred in the heart. After that judgement hath judged a thing to be good, How love is engendered. so soon as the same thing is presented to the Will, it doth by and by move, allure, and draw the same unto itself by a certain natural agreement, even as the like is between the mind and the truth, and between the eye and beauty. This motion of the heart and will, hath even then joined with it a certain kind of rejoicing, as testifying thereby, that the thing pleaseth it, and is very good and agreeable unto it. Now when this rejoicing is confirmed, it is called love, which is an inclination or a proceeding of the will towards that which is Good. For it fareth with the Will, as if it went before to meet with the good that is coming, to receive and to embrace it. Whereupon ariseth a desire of conjunction to knit the same thing to itself: and this love is called, cupidity, Lusting, or Coveting. But because this affection is so out of square in this our corrupt nature, these names are commonly taken more in the evil then in the good part. Of the kinds of desire. Now this affection of desire or coveting, hath respect either to that good which we enjoy already, or which we have yet in hope only and in expectation. If it be already present, this cupidity breedeth a desire to retain and keep it still: if it be yet in expectation, it bringeth forth a desire and longing to enjoy it. And in this sort we love all those things, which we esteem and take to be profitable for us, either for the soul, or for the body, or for the external goods. Of the love of men towards God. For this cause many love God, because they know that it is he who giveth good things unto men. But this is not that true love wherewith we must love him. For although they are very wicked and too unthankful, which love him not, at leastwise with such a love and for that cause, yet if we go no further, we love ourselves more than we do him in this kind of love, seeing the chief cause for which we love him, is not in respect of himself, but of us. For we love him by reason of that good, which we receive from him. But true love is that, which causeth us to love a thing, because it is good in itself, and not in respect of any profit that may come unto us thereby. With this love we ought to love God, and our neighbours and friends: and of this love we have a very clear and manifest image in the love of Fathers and mothers towards their children. The love of parents towards their children. For they love them, not because they have respect to some good, which they may receive of them, but because they are their children. For although they receive nothing but trouble by them from the time of their childhood, and expenses rather than profit, yet that letteth them not from loving them tenderly and with great affection. Now if by this love grounded upon such a cause, we judge the like of the love of God towards us, The love of God towards men. seeing it is he that hath imprinted the same in the hearts of parents towards their children, as an image of his love towards us, we conclude well. For seeing he is the fountain of all true and perfect love, all other loves are but as it were little rivers, which flow from this lively spring. But there is none so express an image thereof in all the creatures, as in the love of fathers and mothers towards their children. For doth God love us in respect of any profit, which he looketh for at our hands? Hereof it is that he setteth forth himself unto us as a Father, to the end we may the better know, that he loveth us with a right fatherly love. Therefore also he will have us to call him Father, and so to accounnt of him: yea he will not have us to take any other for our Father of whom to depend wholly, but him alone. And no doubt but we should receive wonderful joy and consolation, if we could as well feel within us that love which this good Father beareth us, as we feel the love which we bear towards our children. Now when love is reciprocal and mutual, The original of friendship. so that he which is loved doth also love for his part the party that loveth him, then is friendship bred of love, wherein there is mutual benevolence and goodwill. Wherefore as God loveth us, so muust we for our parts love him, seeing this is the chief cause why he hath created man according to his image and similitude, and hath given him a soul that is immortal, and endued with understanding and reason, to know him first and then to love him. Therefore if we consider by what steps we ascend up to God, we shall find, that as by the love which he first bore us, we descended from the highest to the lowest, so likewise we mount up again from the lowest unto the highest by that love which we bear him. In what sort by love we ascend up to God and descend againt. For our soul descendeth from the highest, which is God, unto the lowest, which is the body, by the love of the Creator towards her, who by means of this descending and conjunction communicateth his blessedness both with the soul and with the body. And as she came down from him, so through the knowledge which she hath of God, and love which she beareth him, she ascendeth up again, & returneth to her first birth. Concerning those degrees by which we come thither, we begin first at material and corporal things, as the beginning of man's generation and birth teacheth us: then we come to the senses of the body, by that use which we have of them. afterward we use imagination and fantasy, and from that we come to reason and judgement, next to contemplation, and last of all to love. Hereby we may learn also to know the steps of descending, seeing they are the same, but begun at the contrary end. Wherefore if judgement be governed and overcome by the affections, and reason by fantasy, the estate of the soul is wholly overturned and perverted, as if the body being minded to walk, should set the head upon the ground, and lift the heels upward. So likewise is it if in steed o mounting up to God by love, we descend in such sort to the creatures, Of the union that is in love. that we ascend up no more to him, that we may be one with him. For love maketh all things one. Therefore if we be united with God, there must needs be perfect friendship between him and us. For as he loveth us, so we love him, and then ourselves for love of him. And from the love of ourselves springeth our love towards our wives and children, as though they were a part of us, as also towards our like and towards our works. Similitude is a cause of love. For similitude and likeness is a great cause of love, seeing that when one resembleth us, it is as if we ourselves were another: because similitude maketh many things to be as one and the same thing. Wherefore seeing God hath created us to his image and likeness, it cannot be but that he loveth his image and similitude in us, and us also in respect of that, as if it were himself. For this cause the more this image is reform and renewed in us, the more (no doubt) he loveth us: and the like also may be said of our love towards him. Beauty draweth love. In like manner beauty hath great virtue to procure love, and that for many causes. For first, the beauty which appeareth without in any body, is as it were a witness and testimony of the beauty in the soul, according to that which we have already spoken of the agreement of the powers & affections thereof with the temperature of the body. For God hath created all things in such manner, that he hath commonly joined beauty and goodness together. And as it is written in Genesis, Gen. 1. That he created nothing but that which was very good, so there was nothing made, but it was very beautiful in his kind. Therefore as there is agreement between the body & the soul, so bodily beauty is as it were an image of the beauty of the soul, and promiseth after a sort some good thing of the inward beauty. Beauty a flower of goodness. For internal perfection breedeth the external. Whereupon the internal is called goodness, and the external beauty, which is as it were a flower of goodness that is the seed. It is true that this which we say doth not always fall out so, but that oftentimes a man may see the clean contrary: whereupon we have this common proverb, Proper fellows at the gallows, and fair women in the stews. For ordinarily the goodliest men, & such as are best furnished with the gifts of nature in the disposition of their body, are most wicked and vicious: A caveat for fair women. & more beautiful women are strumpets, then foul women, at leastwise they are in greatest danger, and have much more a do to keep their chastity. For there is always great strife between chastity and beauty, which is so much the more increased, as beauty is the greater, because it is so violent, The force of Beauty. that oftentimes many desire willingly to die for the beauty of others: and some are so tossed and tormented, that they become senseless and out of their wits, being overtaken with looking upon a beautiful face, which hath such pricks, that they pierce even to the liveliest part of their heart and soul. Whereupon it cometh to pass that poor silly lovers are so tormented and full of passions, that they stand altogether amazed, and are like to them that are roasted by a soft fire: yea their soul is so subjecteth to their concupiscence and desire, that she must obey them, as if she were some poor chambermaid and drudge. Whereby we may know what good there is in such beauty, and what good cometh with it, also what conjunction & agreement it may have with goodness, and whether a man may not truly say according to our common proverb, That beauty without goodness is worth nothing. But we are to consider what is the cause hereof. For we speak not of that which is now done, The causes of the abuse in beauty. but of that which should be done, if the nature of man had continued sound: and of that which yet would most commonly be put in ure, were it not that evil education, besides that natural corruption which is already in every one, did infect even that little good of natural inclination which remaineth in man. But howsoever it be, bodily beauty doth always promise more good of the soul, than deformity doth. If it fall out otherwise, it is because God will show, that all good things come from his only grace and not from nature: and therefore he doth not always follow one course and one selfsame order without any change. Besides, he commonly recompenseth in one thing, that which is wanting in another, so that he supplieth that in the spirit, which is wanting in the body, or in the body which is wanting in the spirit. On the other side, because many abuse that beauty of the body which God hath bestowed upon them, as they do all other his gifts, he letteth them fall oftentimes into great vices, whereby they show the deformity of their soul, Beauty maketh vice more ugly. which bringeth also their bodily beauty into great obloquy and shame. For as beauty causeth virtue to appear more fair, when it is joined therewith, so contrariwise, it maketh vice more ugly and loathsome to look upon. Therefore Socrates had reason to say, that it was good for every one to behold himself in a glass, A good use of Looking-glasses. that they which saw themselves fair should be the more afraid to blot their beauty with vices, and that they which were foul should labour to beautify themselves with virtues. Now seeing we are entered into the causes why beauty draweth love, following this matter, we would know of thee, AMANA, what other things are to be considered herein, with the sundry degrees and kinds of beauty, and what is the proper effect of love. Of other causes why Beauty procureth Love, and of divers degrees and kinds of Beauty: how it is the nature of Love always to unite, and what other effects it hath: how Love descendeth and ascendeth not: what power it hath to allure and breed love. Chap. 50. AMANA. Many amongst the Philosophers have made three kinds of good, or of good things: namely, that which is pleasant, profitable, and honest. Hereupon, forasmuch as Love is a desire of good or goodly things, or at leastwise of things so accounted: they have also made three kinds or forts of Love, Three kinds of love. of which the first is towards delightful and pleasant things, and such are those things which tickle and delight our senses, being properly called the goods of the body. The second kind of Love is towards profitable things, as honours, riches, greatness and such other like things, called external goods or the goods of fortune. The third kind is towards honest things, as wisdom, prudence and other virtues, which are the goods of the soul. As for the two first kinds of Love, we may well place them amongst the perturbations of the soul, because so many evil affections spring from them, that all confusion proceedeth from them, yea every man's life is thereby made miserable. But to love and desire good and honest things, is that which truly maketh a man famous. For this love maketh the chief part of his soul excellent, even that part whereby he is man, and which is farthest removed from bodily matter and from obscurity, and nearest to divine brightness, I mean the spirit and understanding, which of all the other parts and powers of man, only is void of the blot of mortality. The consideration of the divers degrees and sundry sorts of beauty doth prepare the way whereby we may come to this laudable and honest love. For by them we may ascend up from the lowest to the highest, and turn our corporal and earthly loves into spiritual and heavenly. They that are most ignorant know that Love is a desire of beauty, and that Beauty draweth Love. God created the world by love. Yea some of the learned Heathens have taught, that it was Love which moved God not only to create the world, but also to create it beautiful, and of so goodly a form in every part of it. And the name whereby it is called, yieldeth testimony of the beauty of it. For world signifieth as much as a goodly and well decked ornament. Therefore seeing God hath created and framed it by love, no doubt but love is dispersed and shed throughout the whole world, and is continually drawn and procured by beauty, to the end it might be conformable and like to the fountain from whence it came. On the other side, all beauty is as it were a beam of that infinite and divine beauty that is in God: and therefore as the divine form draweth unto it true and perfect loves, so the image and similitude thereof draweth the images of loves. And that love whereby almighty God was moved to create all things, proceeded from his own goodness. Now forasmuch as beauty is a beam of that goodness which is shed over all, as the sun spreadeth his light by his beams, the goodlier any thing is, so much the more amiable & lovely it is. For the mother of Love is goodness, and the mother also of Beauty is goodness: so that both of them are bred and borne as it were of one mother. divers kinds of beauty and love. And according to the diversity of natures created by God, so are there divers kinds of beauty, which are all as it were beams, flames, and lights of that heavenly and infinite beauty, which is fountain of all the rest. The first, chiefest, and most excellent kind of all, is that beam of heavenly beauty, whereby the spirit and mind is adorned and polished with understanding and contemplation. The secondis, in that illumination whereby the soul receiveth knowledge. Therefore the understanding mounteth up to those two first degrees of Love; which is drawn by such beauties: and from thence proceedeth the love of spiritual things. The third kind, which is as it were an other beam of divine beauty, appeareth in the effects of lower degrees, which are in that fruitfulness, which God hath given unto the creatures, putting into them seeds to preserve and to increase their kinds. The last and lowest, yea, the most troublesome and earthly kind, is in corporal matters, which are purtraited and painted with great variety of forms and shapes. And as the understanding ascendeth up to the two first degrees, of which I have already spoken: so the imagination stayeth itself in the two last, and from thence proceedeth the love of the body and of bodily things, and the affection to beget of that goodly thing, thereby to draw out a form like to that beauty towards the which a man is affectionated. Now when we shall consider aright of all these degrees and beams of beauty, it is certain that we will strive to ascend up from the lowest to the highest, whereas commonly we descend from the highest to the lowest, feeding our spirits with corporal and terrestrial loves, Love tendeth to unity. which differ from their nature, in stead of spiritual and celestial loves, which is their proper food. But we must note further, that the greatest, last, and chiefest force of love, is of many and divers things to make one and the same. Therefore he that loveth our friend, or doth him any good, seemeth to do that to us which is done to him, and we esteem of it, as if we received it ourselves. For it is the nature of love, which way sooner it turn, always to join and knit unto itself: as on the contrary side hatred is of this nature, that it will evermore disjoin and separate. For this cause jesus Christ prayed so earnestly for his unto his Father, john 17. 21. to the end (saith he) that they all may be one, as thou O Father arte in me, and I in thee; even that they may be also one in us. And Saint john saith likewise of him, john 11. 52. that he should gather together in one the children of God which were scattered. For seeing he came to destroy the works of the devil, 1. john. 3. 8. (as he saith elsewhere) and seeing it is the nature of this enemy of mankind to scatter, to disjoin and separat, by reason of the envy & hatred which he beareth to God & men, it must needs be that jesus Christ should gather together that which the devil hath scattered, and unite in one that which he hath separated: to the end that as man was one with God, before he was severed by sin through the envy and malice of Satan, so he might return into unity and union with his Creator by the abolishing of sin, Sin the cause of our separation from God. which is the cause of the separation, and by the likeness of virtue with God through the means of jesus Christ. Therefore so great goodness & beneficence of God toward us, aught to inflame our love towards him, and moreover to increase the same, when we daily feel new benefits powered upon us, which proceed & come from his burning love and charity wherewith he loveth us, although he receive no benefit thereby. For we are to understand, that although he which hath received a benefit from another, aught to carry greater love towards him, than he that bestowed the benefit is bound towards the other to whom he hath done a good turn, yet the contrary oftentimes falleth out. A double ground of love. The cause whereof is, because his love that bestoweth a good turn proceed●th from his own bounty and goodness, whereas the love of him that receiveth a benefit, cometh of necessity. So that the one hath a great deal better foundation than the other. For that love which proceedeth of necessity respecteth ourselves, because we love for the good which we have received, and not in regard of the person from whom the good cometh. And this love proceedeth from the love we bear to ourselves, so that it ought rather to be called Love of concupiscence, then true love. For as we love the person that doth us good, because of the good which we receive, so we love him, and wish his good, not so much for itself as for ourselves, and for that profit, which we hope will come to us thereby. But after we have begun with this kind of Love, it serveth us oftentimes as a step for to pass by afterwards unto true and perfect love. For acquainting ourselves to love them that do us good, we learn afterward to love them, not only for love of that good which they do unto us, but also because of themselves: insomuch that we will not cease to love them although it fall out so that they can do us no more good, yea although they stand in need of the like good at our hands again. Now when we are come to this degree, our love is a great deal more pure, yea, then is it true love which now loveth not the person beloved only for love of itself but for love of him, even with the like love wherewith it hath been and yet is loved of him. And as he that loveth, is void of true Love, if he love only in respect of the good he receiveth, Love is free. so he that doth good, loveth not with true love, if he do it to receive some profit thereby, and with hope of recompense, and not merely for his love, to whom he doth it. For such a man respecteth himself more than him whom he pretendeth to love. Such is the love of hypocrites towards God. Therefore they honour and serve him as hirelings do, so long as he useth them well, and they see reward: as Satan accused and slandered job before God, job 1. 9 as though he served him for no other cause but for the benefits, which he received of his goodness. Whereupon it pleased God to take trial of that love which his servant bare unto him, to confound the slanderer, and to propound to every one in the person of his servant job, an example and pattern of true fear, Two sorts of hired love. of true love, of true faith, and of true patience. We see then that there are two sorts of hired love, because it may be such, not only in respect of him that receiveth a benefit, but of him also that bestoweth it, when he doth it for the causes aforesaid. But he that doth good only of charity and love hath no such scope, but looketh only to the good, which he delighteth to communicate to others in respect of that goodness which is in himself. Therefore he hath a more sure and excellent beginning of his love, namely, his own goodness and will, than he hath that receiveth the good, whose love beginneth at need and want. That Love also which is grounded upon goodness goeth on more easily, and with greater courage from good to better, then that which cometh from necessity proceedeth to good. For he that doth good, imparteth the same frankly of his own good will because he will do so: and therefore it redoundeth to his great honour. But he that receiveth a good turn, taketh it because he hath need of it: and therefore he must acknowledge himself bound to his Benefactor. For this cause he is somewhat ashamed of his need and want. For as Saint Paul witnesseth, according to the saying of jesus Christ, It is a blessed thing to give rather than to receive. Acts 20. 35. Therefore that may well be said in this respect, which is commonly spoken, namely, that although Love be of the nature of fire, which always mounteth upward, Love descendeth but doth not ascend. yet doth it descend but never ascend. For Fathers and Mothers always love their children, yea their children's children better then their children love them. The like may be said of others that are in the place of parents. And by a greater reason this may be spoken of the love of God our Father towards us, as also of the love of Christ jesus. For he did not only love us before we loved him, yea, even then when we were yet his enemies, but now also we come far short of loui●● him as he loveth us. Therefore he is called by Saint john, 1. john 4. 8. not only loving and charitable, but even Love itself. For as he is the Creator of all things, so he loveth, perfecteth, and preseveth them all, and turneth them unto himself. Love breedeth love. But among all other things which draw Love, nothing is of greater force than Love itself. For as one fire draweth another, so is it with love: for one draweth and engendereth another. Therefore if we would be loved, we ourselves must love. But when the contrary falleth out, nameely, that we are hated of them towards whom we are well affected, it is because he that is loved doth not know nor feel the love that is borne him. For likeness hath such force and virtue in love, that it is as it were the mother thereof. For seeing every one by nature loveth himself greatly, and similitude is as it were the same in many, it causeth him that resembleth us, to be as it were ourselves: whereupon it followeth, that the same likeness which causeth us to love an other, induceth him also to love us. And again, love causeth him that doth love to engrave & imprint in his heart, The heart of a lover compared to a looking glass. that face and image which he loveth: so that the heart of him that loveth is made like to a looking glass, in which the image of the party beloved shineth and is represented. Therefore when he that is loved and beholdeth and acknowledgeth himself in him that loveth him, he is moved and whetted on to love him again, as one within whom he knoweth himself to be as it were Inhabitant, yea, as a second self. Moreover, he that loveth, doth as it were deprive himself of himself, and give himself to him whom he loveth. Therefore he that is beloved accounteth him dear, and is as careful of him as of a thing of his own. So that if we love God, we shall be in his heart, as if our image were engraven there: and his image also shall be in ours, yea, he will be careful of us, as of his own children, as we likewise will be very careful of his honour and glory. And the more we know his love towards us, the liker we shallbe unto him, and shall love him the more: as he in like manner will love us the more. Now because men can neither see nor know one another's heart and will to judge of their love, Love aught to show itself by works. we must declare the same by outward works. For none but God knoweth the hearts and wills of men. Nevertheless he will have us to manifest by works our love towards him and our neighbours, as he hath showed us his love by giving himself with all his benefits unto us. Therefore we must yield testimony of our love, by obeying his word and keeping his holy commandments, the fulfilling of which consisteth in true and perfect charity. But forasmuch as the love of men is so disordered nowadays, we are to take 〈◊〉 heed, and to look diligently that we deceive not ourselves, by loving that which we ought not to love, esteeming that to be a good thing which is wicked, and well done that which is ill done: to the end, that our love be not inordinate, and bestowed upon false and evil things, and so prove a vicious desire rather than true love. Therefore it shall be good, if following our matter, we consider what this affection of cupidity or desire is properly, and what are the kinds of it, and how we may separate it from love. Let us then hear ken to ARAM discoursing of this matter. Of Desire and Coveting, and of the kinds of it: of the infiniteness of men's desires, and what Good is able to satisfy and content it: of the difference between Desire and Love, and of the utmost limit and end of love. Chap. 51. ARAM. As at the entry of a forest some one path may seem to be broad and beaten enough, yet afterward when a travailer is well entered into it, he beginneth to lose it by little and little, and being amazed the farther he walketh on, the more he wandereth out of his way: even so when as sensuality inviteth us to the fruition of some object, we think it an easy matter to attain thereunto, and hope to get some great good thereby: but the further we enter into and follow that path, which our concupiscence doth show unto us, the worse we find the way to be, and can see nothing before us but a large field full of thorns and thistles, which notwithstanding seem for a time unto sore eyes to be fair flowers of very goodly fruit. But the tasting of them always bringeth with it a long and late repentance in the end. Now as the body of the sun when he first riseth may be easily looked upon, but after being mounted up certain degrees in the Zodiac, dazzleth the eyes of them that behold it: so we may in some sort know our evil when it beginneth first, but when it hath gathered full force it wholly dimmeth our reason, Evils must be resisted in the beginning. and yieldeth to no counsel. Therefore before any passion grow to be strong, we must labour, that whatsoever shall be rashly desired, may be suppressed by a prudent and an advised discourse. We have heard by our former speech, What Desire is. that Desire and Coveting is an appetite or longing to obtain some Good, which we judge is profitable unto us, or to preserve it if we have it already. Diversity of Goods. For this cause we must always consider advisedly what Goods we want, whether they be necessary for us or no, whether we seek after them, either because we need them, or for profit sake, or else o●ly to satisfy the vanity of our mind, and our foolish and carnal affections. For there are some Goods so necessary for us, that without them we can neither live, nor preserve our life. The necessity and want of these is fitly called natural, and aught rather in deed to be termed appetites than desires. In the number of these Goods are meats, Good● belonging to this life. drinks, clothing, dwelling places, Physic, fire, water, & such like things which man's life cannot be without. Therefore our appetite to these things is awakened as it were by a certain natural instigation, which pricketh and provoketh the soul to make it desire & seek them, so that they stay not until judgement have given sentence, but proceed on forward as we may see by experience in hunger and thirst. It is not therefore without cause said, that the belly hath no ears. But there are other goods not altogether so necessary for man's life, which yet we cannot be without when need requireth, and they serve to this use, that men might live more commodiously and better at ease: as wine, exquisiteness in dressing and preparing of meats, spices, and many such like things. For it is certain, that although there were no wine nor any artificial drink, yet nature would be content and could well away with water: and although meat be not so delicate, nor so well and finely dressed as it might be, yet will it nourish well enough, so it be natural. The same may be said of the rest, of which there is great use in the life of man, and of those pleasures and delights which we take by all the corporal senses. The desires of these things are not to be condemned, seeing they are natural also, provided always that moderation be kept in them. For God hath not created any creature, which he will not have man to use, so that he abuse it not, but being contented with those pleasures which he permitteth unto him, keep himself within the limits thereof, and fall into no excess, neither lash out beyond all reason and measure. There is yet an other sort of goods whereof we have spoken before, Goods of fancy and in opinion only. which is more in fancy & in opinion than in any other thing, namely, the getting and possessing of silver, of riches, of power, of honour, & of glory. These goods fill men full of innumerable desires, which have neither measure, term, nor end, insomuch that amongst all creatures living none is so burdened with them as man: who notwithstanding might well satisfy himself with a few, if he could be content with that which will suffice nature and follow her. And therefore of all these sorts of desires mentioned by us, we may well say, that those which concern natural things have some limitation, but such as concern things found out and invented by men, have no bounds nor measure at all in them. For what end is there in the coveting of riches, honours, glory and such like things? True it is, that of their own nature, and as being the creatures and gifts of God, they are not ill: but they become such through the fault of men, I mean through their insatiable coveting and abusing of them, and through that false opinion, which commonly we have of them. For we propound these things to ourselves, that we may live with greater ease, pleasure, and rest: but it falleth out clean contrary. For being such goods as reach not unto the spirit, they cannot profit the same: or if they do reach unto it, yet the profit that cometh by them is very light and vain. For they are not able to sound the bottom thereof, it is so profound and capable: much less are we to think that they can make us happy. Nay, they are so far from performing this, that it is impossible to believe how troublesome it is to the spirit to search and find them out, and to obtain & keep them. The effects of ambition and covetousness. For after that ambition and covetousness be once moved and pricked forward through false opinions and vain judgements, they grow and wax disordered out of measure. For the spirit thinketh in itself, that if once it could get either those honours and glory, or that money and riches which it wisheth for, it should be very happy, and live at great ease and rest. But when it hath obtained that, it is not only in the same estate wherein it was before, but oftentimes far worse, and less contented. The reason is, because the spirit considereth not, that those things which it laboureth to get, are unable of their own nature to afford that which it requireth of them. Whereupon, not knowing his own vice and foolish imagination, it it persuaded, that this falleth out so in respect of the greatness & excellency of that thing whereunto it aspireth, and therefore not having gotten so much as is requisite fully to satisfy the desire it hath, it settleth itself to get more. And when it hath proceeded in this sort, yet is it always new to begin, being as far from contentation, yea a great deal further than it was before. So that we may conclude, that desire or coveting is bottomless, and void of all stay. Therefore we must know, that the mere wants of this life, do neither breed nor increase these desires in us, but they proceed from a false opinion and persuasion, which we have of them. For it is certain, that the opinion we conceive of those wants, which we imagine we may have, breedeth such a fear● in us, as engendereth and increaseth these desires. Of the false opinion of want. And the carking care to preserve those things that are without us, namely, external goods, proceedeth from the same fountain. For our foresight stretcheth itself not only to urgent necessities, or to such as we verily think are to come to pass, but even to all those that may any way happen: so that we propound to ourselves all the wants in the world, as if heaven and earth should fail us. Besides, many do not only look to those necessities which they may fear, but also to those pleasures, which they would have. For they suppose that by means of power, riches, authority, and dignities, they may attain to the fruition of all the pleasures and delights they wish for. And when a man hath tasted of pleasure, this taste doth breed an other desire to continue therein, and to preserve those means whereby they may always enjoy such pleasure. Whereby we may judge how the desire and coveting that is in man, wandereth and goeth astray, when as notwithstanding it is given him of God, to the end he might wish for that which he judgeth to be good for him, and that he might follow after it, and having obtained the same, might hold and keep it fast. Now Forasmuch as God is the true, The right use of coveting. steadfast, and firm good of man, he doth naturally wish and desire him: and because this good is infinite, it falleth out thereupon that the largeness, length, and depth of our coveting is infinite, and can be filled with no other thing but with God. Wherefore when it is come thither, there it stayeth and resteth itself. But whilst it wandereth hither and thither, there will be no end, but one desire begetteth another: insomuch that there are infinite kinds of them, which take their particular names of those things which they covet. The diverse kinds of Desires. For the unmeasurable coveting of honours is called ambition: of gold and silver, covetousness: of meats and drinks, gluttony and drunkenness: the unlawful and immoderate desire of conjunction between man and woman, is called Whoredom: which also hath divers kinds under it, according to the degrees of their filthiness and enormities in whom it aboundeth. The virtues opposite and contrary to these vicious desires, are justice, liberality, continency, chastity, and temperance: of which virtues and vices, and of others proceeding of them, we have discoursed at large in our fist moral institution. Therefore to conclude that which hath been hitherto spoken of Love and of Desire, I think we ought to make two sorts of Love, the one in virtue the other in vice. Two sorts of love. For that Love proceeding of Desire and Coveting, such as we see commonly in men, is false and feigned. And because it counterfeiteth often the actions of true love, therefore we ought to be very wary, that it beguile us not, and that we take not the one for the other. Concerning the first, we must remember, that all love is begotten of Good, that it bendeth and draweth towards Good, as we have already learned. Now Good is of that nature, that it breedeth in us a desire to be joined unto it, in regard of that agreement which it hath with us: of which agreement and conjunction cometh delight, and then blessedness and felicity. The last end of love. So that the utmost bounds and limits of Love is to be knit together in unity as much as may be. And the straighter and closer the bond of love is tied and conjoined in one and the same essence, so much the more truly and perfectly is love come unto his end, and consisteth in the perfection of his nature. Therefore the desire of conjunction which is in Love is given to man, to the end he should wish and covet to be united with God his true Good, that being made as it were a little God like unto him, he might be partaker of his eternal blessedness. This is the true, firm, and fruitful conjunction of love, and the great and excellent reward thereof. For all the rest are nothing in comparison of this, but only vain and fruitless. Now the Love of the body desireth the conjunction of the body, and the love of souls desireth to be joined with souls, that there may be as it were one soul in many bodies. And this conjunction is the greatest, truest, and of longest continuance, which causeth but one heart and one will among friends, as if they were one only body, and one only soul, and as if he that loveth were the same party that is beloved. Therefore it is written of the first Christians that were in the Church of jerusalem, Acts 4. 32. that the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and one soul; neither any of them said, that any thing of that which he possessed, was his own, but they had all things common. Neither is it said without reason in common Proverb, Community among friends. that all things are common among friends: which is the cause that a friend calleth and accounteth as his own, whatsoever belongeth to his friend, whether it be in prosperity or in adversity. Therefore also it is commonly said, that a steadfast friend is tried in doubtful matters. Whereupon it cometh to pass in true love, that friends lift up into great dignity, are more careful of those whom they love (how base soever they be) and of their affairs, then of themselves and of their particular estate. Moreover we are to know, that as it is the nature of Love to join together, Love bringeth equality. so doth it also bring equality with it, so far forth as the nature of those things that are conjoined, will bear: insomuch that the highest stoop down to the lowest, to lift them up unto themselves, & they that are equal associate themselves together. Therefore, as we have often said, that the fountain and pattern of all true love is in God, so in this point it doth chief show itself unto us. For he abaseth himself to our smallness, as though he would reach us his hand from heaven, to draw and lift us up unto himself by the mean of jesus Christ, unto whom and by whom we are truly united with him. But here we are to know, that the desire, lust, or coveting which is bred of Love groweth to be vicious through the corruption of our nature, which otherwise being directed by good means and by reason according to the will of God, and aiming at the right Good which is God, Love must first begin at God. would cause us to love God first for his own sake, and then his creatures in him, and for the love of him. Neither should we ever covet worldly goods with an unbridled desire, but would rather account all mortal things unworthy to be cared for by our immortal souls. Whereunto we shall be the rather persuaded, if following that which we have begun to speak of true and false love, and of the difference between them, we consider what good things are to be found in the one above the other, what sundry rewards men propound unto themselves in love, what knowledge is required therein, and how the one is increased by the other. This than shall be thy matter subject, ACHITOB, which thou shalt take to make an end of our discoursing of the nature of love. Of the good things that are in true Love, of the diverse valuations of Love, and of the benefits which it procureth: what knowledge is requisite to allure Love, and how one Love groweth by another: of the friendship that may be both between the good and the bad. Chap. 52. ACHITOB. Good is loved so much as it is known, and as we are able to understand what it is. For things are first known, to the end they may be loved. Three means of knowledge. Now there are three means of knowledge in our soul, namely, by sense, by reason, and by the mind. From the sense springeth appetite, which is common to us with beasts: from reason groweth election, which is proper to man: and from the mind and spirit, in which the image of the divine essence is engraven, proceedeth the will. As then sense knoweth none but sensible and corporal things, so the appetite desireth only the same things: and as the mind of it own nature inclineth to the contemplation of spiritual and intelligible things, so the will feedeth and contenteth itself only with eternal and heavenly goods. Now Man, that is to say the soul, by nature reasonable, being placed as it were in the midst of these two extremes, and sustaining wonderful assaults and combats through the impression of these two contraries, taketh part one while with the desires of this side, an other while of that, according as he inclineth by his election either to this part or to that, by stooping down to the sense, or by lifting up himself to the mind. But because of the darkness of error, which shadoweth his reason, it is very necessary that the spirit of God work mightily therein, to this end that by the power and virtue thereof, the natural affection of earthly things, which offer violence to all the powers of the soul, might be transported and lift up to the desire of celestial and eternal things. Truly forsomuch as Good is the object of Love, good reason it is that we should lift it upward, and separate it from the earth as much as we may. For as so many rash affections, which are the spring of all vices, The benefits that come of true love, whose scope is God. have their beginning from earthly love: socontrariwise celestial and heavenly love adorneth the soul with two excellent ornaments, namely, wisdom and virtue, the ground of all true Beauty, in which all good, all contentation and felicity consisteth. And this love which hath God for his end and scope, hath three great benefits among many others, which are not to be found in any other love, especially in that of concupiscence. For first, there is no good so excellent in the enjoying of earthly things, but it is mingled with some thing that may displease us, or some way harm us. Whereupon taking it to be a less benefit, and not altogether so good for us, we are of this judgement, The first benefit of true love. that it is the less to be wished for of us. But there is no such thing in God. Therefore if the soul of man did behold him by contemplation, not such a one as he is (for that is impossible) but as she might contemplate him notwithstanding she is enclosed in this body, she would be ravished in her love with greater vehemency, than she is stirred up to embrace that, which of all mortal and transitory things she judgeth best and most certain. For she should know, that God is a Good, wherein there is nothing mingled, that may breed irksomeness, or be hurtful, but is altogether profitable and full of pleasure. Although it can not be gainsaid, but that the contrary seemeth to come to pass oftentimes, when we see that they which love God as they ought, & which by means of this love are driven forward & induced to procure his honour and glory with all their might, are commonly most visited with griefs, losses, and sorrows. Whereof it cometh to pass, that many are alienated from this love, because they greatly dislike that troublesome estate. But we must know, that this human and frivolous consideration proceedeth only of this, divers estimations of love. that the price of love is diversly valued. For there is one kind of love that is perpetual and firm, and another which is temporary, according as the present motion of the heart pricketh one forward to follow any thing, because at that instant it seemeth unto him to be good, or in regard of the profit, which he seethe therein, or of the appearance of good, which he imagineth is in it. As for example, we know well, that health is a greater good, then is the swallowing down of dainty morsels, the pleasure whereof passeth away very quickly. And yet it cometh often to pass, that our appetite stirreth us forward with such vehemency, that mere lickerishnes causeth us to eat such meats as we know are contrary to our health. The reason hereof is, because we compare not the good that is in taste and in dainty fare, which suddenly passeth away, with that which is in health, which is of a longer continuance: or else because we think there will not come so great hurt thereof as there may come, or else we hope easily to remedy the same. The cause of men's error from the true Good. And thus is it with them that consider not what great good there is in God, but forget him, or else suppose that they caneasily recover that which they shall lose, by following after a terrestrial and transitory Good, which causeth them to turn aside from God. For if they thought well upon it, and knew what loss they received, they would never suffer themselves to be governed by their appetites and worldly desires. But the bare imagination and consideration of honours and of earthly goods doth so dazzle the eyes of their mind, that they can not know the greatness and excellency of celestial goods, which they forsake for those other. Whereas contrariwise, if they were not altogether blind, they should perceive, that this light affliction of good men, which passeth away in a moment, bringeth forth in them an eternal weight of most excellent glory, and maketh them partakers of God, who is the perpetual & steadfast reward of their true and holy love. The second benefit that is in true love. Now touching the second benefit, which being in his love, is not to be found in the love of creatures, we are to know, that this latter is always in fear and care for that thing which it loveth, lest some evil should befall it. So that notwithstanding any security that may be had, yet there is always some vexation in all love towards men and towards mortal things. But in that love which is towards God there is nothing but delight without care, grief, or disquietness. For we are very certain, that all things are most safe there, full of joy and lasting happiness. The third benefit. And for the third, we see that in the love of concupiscence, there is commonly envy and evil jealousy (which is one kind of it) because many covet that which one alone would wholly possess. But it is clean contrary in the true love of the soul, wherein is uprightness and fellowship. For he that loveth virtue and a virtuous man, is so far from being jealous, that he would not only have many companions, but wisheth that all the men in the world were like affected with him. The same may be said of him that loveth God. For he would have all men his companions in that amity, & judgeth all those to be miserable & wretched, which are estranged from it. As for that friend, who would alone love his friend, he loveth not perfectly, but rather loveth some thing in him that is profitable to himself, as namely to enjoy alone whatsoever good he judgeth to be in his friend: which is the nature of the love of concupiscence that looketh inwardly to itself. But true friendship looketh outwardly upon him whom it loveth, insomuch that he which loveth doth die by little and little in himself, but that which he loveth, liveth in him. Wherefore S. Paul not only knowing the nature of true love, but also having felt by experience the vehemency thereof, Galat. 2. 20. saith, I live, yet not I now, but Christ liveth in me. For he that truly loveth, careth no more for himself, but for that thing which he loveth. The highest degree of love. This degree of love may be rightly called Ravishing, in which the lover is so rapt out of himself, that he sorgetteth himself altogether, being wholly in him whom he loveth, and he whom he loveth being in him. Knowledge requisite in love. But as we said in the beginding of our speech, Good is loved so far forth as it is known, & as we can understand what it is, therefore it is necessary that the knowledge of it should be so great, that it be sufficient to draw love, which increaseth by thinking often of that thing which is beloved. For thereby it is planted & rooted more deeply in the heart. Wherefore there is nothing more contrary to love then forgetfulness, the mother of ingratitude, especially in our love towards God. For the more we think of him, the more do we call to mind his goodness towards us: whereupon also our love doth increase & is inflamed in us towards him. And the greater and more burning our love is, the nearer are we united & linked unto him. Therefore we may well conclude, that we love God according to that measure of knowledge which we have of him and of his benefits, and according as we consider and remember them: and if we want these things, we love him not as we ought. Now when we are joined unto the thing that is dear unto us, according to the end of love, we know it a great deal better, because we behold it nearer: and then are we said to enjoy it. Hereupon we may note two kinds of knowledge in love: Two sorts of knowledge in love. the one first, the other last. By the first, we believe that thing to be good, which we do know: & by the last we have experience of it, which is of great force in all love: because the fruit thereof is the fruition of the thing beloved. This enjoying, is the action of delight and of pleasure, which is not only of the will, but also of the understanding, as it is in GOD. And if we take it so, Love shall be as the mean between the first knowledge which is only begun, and the last, which is full and perfect: which consisteth in the union of him that loveth with him that is beloved, and wherein the desire that is in love, and which afflicteth and tormenteth the party loving, is always abolished, not the love itself: but being united, the greater number and the more excellent it findeth the goods in regard of those which the first knowledge afforded, the more is it increased and inflamed. Hereof it is that we put a difference between Love and the Desire that is in love, The difference between Love and Desire. because when we love a thing, we desire therewithal the fruition and possession thereof. And if there be delay made, so that we cannot enjoy the thing so soon as we would, this delay tormenteth us by reason of the desire, which presseth and pricketh us forward to get the possession of it. But this torment cometh not of Love, than which there is nothing more sweet and pleasant, but of that desire which endeth in the union and fruition of the thing beloved. In the mean time as long as this desire lasteth, the love from whence it proceedeth, causeth the torment to be abated, yea it is not without some pleasure, especially when there is some hope that at length it may be obtained and brought about. And the more confident this hope is, the greater solace, yea the greater delight and pleasure it bringeth withal. For as love hath great delight in union and fruition, so is it not small in hope, because it propoundeth unto us the enjoying of the thing as being present, even as if our imagination had already led us unto it. Therefore forasmuch as the hope of God's children is certain, they are now being in this world as it were blessed in heaven, although the desire which they have of greater goods hoped for yet, and to be enjoyed in that full union and conjunction which they shall have with God in the life everlasting, causeth them to groan and to sigh continually with all the creatures, Rom. 8. 22. waiting for their full and perfect deliverance from all corruption and from this miserable life. So that we can not doubt but that our love towards GOD will be far greater and much more vehement, when as we shall have this full fruition of God our sovereign Good, and when we shall be perfectly united unto him by true Love, not seeing him obscurely in a glass only, 1. Cor. 13. 12. or knowing him in part, as we do now, but beholding him face to face, and knowing him as we have been known of him. For the knowledge which we have now of him is yet but begun, in respect of that which we shall have fully and wholly in that glorious and immortal life. And then also we shall be wholly swallowed up with his love. By the same reason we may well believe, that the love and charity which the godly bear one towards another in this mortal life and pilgrimage, shall be a great deal more inflamed in the other life, than ever it was in the holiest and most perfect that ever was amongst them in this world. For the better men friends are, the more steadfast and firm is their friendship, which among good men is always of long continuance: but contrariwise with the wicked. And to speak properly there is no friendship betwixt them, Of friendship between wicked men. but only some familiarity and fellowship, or to speak better, a conspiracy against right, and common peace. Howsoever it be, whether familiarity or fellowship, it is very short and weak, because it hath no good foundation. Wherefore they can not long continue united and knit together. We have daily testimony hereof in worldly and carnal men, who having made for a time profession of very great friendship, upon a Yea or a Nay, assault one another even unto death. But we are not greatly to marvel at it. For seeing their amity and union is ill grounded, as it cannot be of long continuance, so they can receive no great joy or delight. But it is contrary in the friendship of good men, as that which hath a far better foundation, namely, God and his word. What foundation the friendship of good men hath. Wherefore if the better men that friends be, the greater their friendship is and more firm even in this world, no doubt but it will be greater, more burning and constant in that blessed and eternal life, which we expect, where we shall be much better men and more perfect than we are here, better linked one with an other, as also we shall be altogether a great deal more conjoined with and in God. 1. Corint. 13. 8. For this cause Saint Paul had good reason to say, that Love doth never fall away, though prophesyings be abolished, or tongues cease, or knowledge vanish away. Wherefore in this respect he concludeth, that love is the greatest of these three, Faith, Hope, and love. But we have spoken enough of the nature of Love for the subject of our discourse of the natural history of man. Now I think it will not be unprofitable, if we say somewhat of other affections that are near neighbours unto Love and joined with it, as of favour, reverence, honour and pity, which have such good or ill qualities in man, as the nature of that love hath which bringeth them forth, as ASER will give us to understand. Of favour, reverence, and of honour: of their nature and effects: of those outward signs whereby they show themselves: of pity and compassion, and how agreeable it is to the nature of man. Chap. 53. ASER. I cannot marvel enough at the drowsiness of many great spirits, who are so delighted with the vain dreams of their own fancies, that they employ all the gifts and graces of their mind, to lift up even unto the heavens the pleasures that are received in the love of human and mortal things, especially in the fruits of concupiscence, and yet the least of them cannot be gotten without a thousand troublesome discommodities, besides that they leave always in man an insatiable desire of them. I would ask of them gladly, when the most voluptuous man of them all, hath not, even in the midst of his pleasures, sighed and been subject to passions, desiring some other thing beside: or when there was ever found between twain that loved each other corruptly, that conformity of wills, that communication of thoughts, those continual agreements, & that concord of life, which is necessary in all true love: especially seeing it is a hard matter, yea impossible to see a wicked man, that is not daily at variance with himself, insomuch that if he could leave himself, as two men forsake each other, there are many, who upon every occasion would leave themselves to take another body, A similitude showing the vanity of the love of worldly delights. or another soul. And as when one being very desirous to eat, and thereupon falling asleep, dreameth that he is feeding and yet is not satisfied, because it is not a dream of meat that will content the sense and appetite, which seeketh to be appeased, but substantial meat itself: even so it falleth out when men dreaming in spirit, which is as pernicious a thing as the sleep of death, give themselves by a certain natural inclination which they have to the love of Good, to seek for the beauty, contentation & delight thereof upon earth, when they are not to be found in the whole world. As for their shadows, which in some sort appear in corporal and earthly things, and in those delights which proceed of them, they do not feed their minds with sound and good things, but rather abuse and deceive them. Therefore we ought to take great heed, that we set not our heart and affection rather upon those miserable, corruptible and deceivable pleasures, wherein worldlings and carnal men do glory, then upon that great and infinite brightness, of which the sun is but a very small beam, and upon those singular, blessed, and heavenly truths, which the word of life doth teach us, and which are the only true and solid meats that can content and satisfy our spirits eternally. It is certain, that nature moveth us to set our affection chief upon some one thing rather than upon another: forasmuch as love is a gift bestowed by the Creator upon all natures at the time of their birth. Now unto Love many other affections are joined, among which Favour commonly hath the first place. What savour is. This affection is a kind of good will and liking, which springeth from a judgement conceived of some Good, so that we may call it a love begun. For in this judgement of Good, we esteem well of him, towards whom our favour is extended, and judge him worthy of some good thing, and by this means we begin to love him. Wherefore although favour may be without true love, yet love cannot be without favour. Notwithstanding, when we favour one before we love him, even than we enter into the way that leadeth to love him. And for the least shadow of love in our heart towards another, we favour him: as we see it in those that are linked unto us by some degree either of consanguinity, or of affinity, or by means of some acquaintance and knowledge. Now forasmuch as GOD loveth us, he beareth us favour also, although not in the regard or for the judgement of any good, Why God favoureth us. which he seethe in us or in our corrupted nature: but because of the love he beareth us in jesus Christ, his well-beloved, in whom by his grace he hath made us acceptable to himself. Therefore this favour bringeth with it the perfection of all Good unto us. For what can he want that is favoured of God, who can do all things? This favour which God beareth unto us, is called grace and blessing in the holy Scriptures, which comprehendeth all those benefits which we receive of his goodness. For they proceed all of this favour, and this favour of the love he beareth us in jesus Christ. Reverence also commonly accompanieth love, Of reverence. whereby we understand an affection proceeding from the judgement of some great good, that hurteth us not. For if we thought it would hurt us, there would be fear joined with hatred, and not true reverence. For although there is evermore in all reverence, some fear mingled with shamefastness, nevertheless this fear bringeth no hatred with it. This reverence is bred in us by comparing the greatness of another with our smallness, as if we admired those excellent things that are in him. For as the heart doth enlarge itself through the consideration and opinion it hath of it own greatness, so doth it restrain and close up itself upon the reputation and conceit of another man's greatness, so it be good, or at leastwise without hurt. Therefore if we compare our greatness with some other man's that is far greater, we know our own smallness thereby. Whereupon it cometh to pass, The caause of humility. that we do not only esteem worse, but even dislike and contemn ourselves: by which means we become more humble, whereas before we were puffed up with pride through the opinion of our greatness, of which we have experience as often as we compare ourselves with GOD, and lift up our spirit even to the consideration of his divine majesty, comparing that with our baseness. For then being ravished with admiration of his highness, and infinite greatness, we honour and reverence him by reason of his power, unto which we join also his wisdom and goodness. And according to that reverence we bear towards him, we reverence those also in whom we see the same gifts and graces shine. For power breedeth reverence, and goodness love. Wherefore if we judge, that power and greatness are joined with goodness and tempered therewithal, we shall not only be moved to reverence, but this reverence also will engender love, as it is in the hearts of the faithful towards God: because that as they consider him almighty and the greatest of all, so they behold him most wise and most good. But as I have already touched, if we think that this greatness or power either is or willbe hurtful unto us, there is another kind of reverence, which only hath fear that breedeth hatred, as it is in them that consider the power of God only, & the rigour of his judgement, not meditating of his clemency and benignity. Therefore as the great excellency, which in all things appeareth in God, especially in power, wisdom and goodness, induceth us to reverence him aright: A good lesson for princes. so if we would have men to honour & reverence us, there must be excellent virtues in us, in which men may see the image of God to shine, that so he may be honoured & reverenced in us & we in him. For therein consisteth that true honour, & that true reverence which we ought to seek for & to desire. And although reverence hath respect principally to the divine majesty (at the name of which every knee ought to bow) and to those superiorities which are images thereof, unto which they that are of less degree, estate and condition, aught to give honour, Reverence requisite in true friendship. & service, nevertheless mutual reverence is necessary in all true friendship, aswell in respect of the party beloved, as of him that loveth. And indeed we see how that true friends reverence and honour one another, and all because of that good opinion which they have conceived each of others desert. Concerning this word Honour, it is properly a token, whereby we testify that we judge him to be endued with virtue whom we honour. Wherefore as the consideration of virtue breedeth honour, Of honour and of majesty. so honour breedeth reverence, and then honour and reverence breed majesty, which is the highest degree of honour, and increaseth continually according as those virtues and good things excel, which induce us to honour them. For if the virtues be mean, we honour them with a more simple honour, if greater, we add thereunto reverence: and then majesty is that honour which can be given to the greatest of all. And as this affection of honour is in our heart, we show it forth by divers outward signs, whereby we signify and testify, that we acknowledge their greatness and excellency whom we honour, and that we submit ourselves thereunto. Therefore the more humble and modest a man is, the readier he will be to yield reverence and honour to them unto whom it is due. Contrariwise, the more drunken a man is with the love of himself, the more he will presume of himself: and the greater this presumption is in him, the less will he desire that another should be more excellent than himself, and willbe the hardlier persuaded to believe it is so. Therefore he will hardly yield to give him honour and reverence. But Saint Paul admonisheth the children of God to go before one another in giving honour, Rom. 12. 16. and to be of like affection one towards another, not being high minded, neither wise in themselves, that is to say, arrogant and selfe-weening, presuming very much of themselves. So that as pride or humility aboundeth in us, God, our superiors and friends shallbe more or less honoured by us. As for those signs, whereby we testify this honour and reverence, we are to note that they are many, according to the diversities of nations and countries, and of their manners. Of the signs of honour and of reverence. Most commonly we use to bend the knee, in testimony that we abase and submit ourselves to those unto whom we do this honour. Likewise we uncover the head, which is a token of servitude, according to the custom of the Grecians and of the Romans. There are many other such like signs, as to rise up, to give place, to accompany, to salute, and infinite others, which would be too long to rehearse, and without profit: all which we call bearing of honour and reverence, or yielding of reverence. Wherefore although God looketh chief to that which is within, and not to that which is without, yet will he have us by external signs to declare that honour, which we own and bear unto him, and by them to yield him homage. Thus he requireth that we should testify our faith and our love towards him, by confession of mouth and by all good works, that there may be always an agreement between the body and the soul, between the heart, mouth and hands, and between the workmaster that worketh, and his instruments and works, to the end that the one may be known by the other. For if the outward signs agree not with the heart, we make them false witnesses, as the tongue is when it lieth. For they bear witness to that which is not: which is right hypocrisy, displeasing God and men. Therefore we must beware of this vice, and take heed that we make no other outward show, then will stand with the affection of the heart. Now having spoken of honour, reverence and majesty, by reason of that conjunction which they have with love, as also of favour and grace, Of Mercy and Compassion. it remaineth now that we should speak somewhat of Mercy, and compassion, seeing that also hath great agreement with love. Mercy then is a grief conceived in our heart in respect of some evil, which (as we think) is befallen one that hath not deserved it: and this we call also pity and compassion. Now because this affection moveth us to aid, succour, and to do good to them that are afflicted, as also to pardon such as have offended us, therefore Mercy is often taken in the holy scriptures for aid, succour, favour, grace, beneficence, good will, benefiting, friendship, benignity, as also for the affection and inclination of the heart to do good and to secure all them that have need of help, and this proceedeth of charity. Therefore Saint Paul saith, Rom. 12. 8, 9, 10. He that showeth mercy, let him do it with cheerfulness. Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil, and cleave to that which is good. Be affectioned to love one another with brotherly love: not slothful to do service: fervent in spirit, serving the Lord: distributing to the necessities of the Saints: giving yourselves to hospitality. Whereby he admonisheth us, that all the succours which we give to others, ought to proceed from a sincere and cheerful affection of the heart, which should provoke us to perform the same: and this cannot be in us without the affection of pity, of mercy and of compassion. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 In regard whereof the name of alms is taken from a word, which in Greek signifieth Mercy: and therefore also alms signifieth as much as mercy, or that succour that is done of mercy and compassion, wherewith we are affected in respect of the misery of our like. Whereupon it followeth, that as every one is of a more tender heart, so he is more merciful: as contrariwise hardness of heart extinguisheth mercy and compassion. As for this word Compassion, it signifieth as much as alike compassion, that is, a like sense and feeling of evil and of grief, as if we ourselves suffered that which we see others endure, by reason of that conjunction which we ought to have one with another, 1. Cor. 12. as members of one and the same body, among which there is such agreement that if one suffer all feel it, and so all are careful for it. Therefore it is written in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that brotherly love continueth. Heb. 13. 3. Be not (saith he) forgetful to lodge strangers. Remember them that are in bonds, as though ye were bound with them: and them that are in affliction, as if ye were also afflicted in the body. Wherefore we may well conclude, that this affection of mercy is very necessary for men, yea as sweet, as mild, and as profitable an affection as any can be amongst them, which they have received of God for their mutual succour and consolation, in the midst of so many miseries as commonly happen in the life of man. Math. 5. 7. And this he commandeth us expressly in infinite places of his word, Luke 6. 36. that the image of his unspeakable mercy might shine in us by our mercy towards others. Prou. 21. 21. Hitherto we have spoken of man, jam. 2. 13. as of man and of those affections that are most human in him, now others remain, which often make him more brutish, than any savage beast that is. For seeing they come of the opinion of evil, they provoke and stir him up greatly, making him marvelous wild and untamed. To the end therefore that we may enter into the discourse of this matter, we will first see what Offending and Offence is in the heart and soul, & consider what degrees it hath, and what good or evil may be in this affection. This we shall learn of thee, AMANA. Of offence in the heart and soul: of the degrees of offence, & of the good and evil that may be in this affection: of contempt that is bred of it, and of mockery, which followeth contempt. Chap. 54. AMANA. The Philosophers have set down four causes of all the troubles of the soul, from whence all the residue proceed, & into which they return and have their end: Four causes of all the troubles of the soul. namely, immoderate desire, unbridled joy, unmeasurable grief, and extreme fear. These, as they say, proceed through imprudence or ignorance of the mind, and pusillanimity of heart, from the opinion of good or evil things, present or to come, which we imagine to be in the things of this world, being unperfect and of small continuance. Now forasmuch as these four causes are the springs of all vices and sins, into which men plunge themselves in this life, they are called perturbations of the soul, which if they be not mastered by reason, do so carry the soul hither and thither, that in the end they constrain the reasonable power thereof to give over all authority and liberty, and to obey the lusts of the sensual and unreasonable Will. Now desire and joy, they commonly accompany the perishing goods of the body. For they are of that nature, that they inflame the soul with an insatiable lust, inso much that the obtaining of one thing is the beginning of a new and vehement desire of having another. The nature of corporal goods. And the enjoying of them besotteth the spirit with a sugared poison of feigned delight and pleasure, under the yoke of which it easily suffereth itself to be overcome, to be bound and to be governed, As for grief & fear, although they also be not far removed from such false and vading goods of the body, yet for the most part, they respect those adversities and miseries, which in our opinion we judge to be in the want and privation of those goods. For they fill the soul with trouble and disquietness, as she that thinketh her estate to be most miserable, if she obtain not the end of her carnal and inordinate affections. So that if the body endure never so little, she casteth forth strange cries and complaints. And although the body suffer nothing at all, yet is she always in extreme fear, lest some evil should befall it. But these very passions may be divided into good and bad. How the passions may be good. For honest desire, modestioy, and moderate grief and fear, are naturally in us, for the preservation of our being. Yea all these affections are endued with the qualities of commendable virtues, if they respect the sovereign Good of man, as we may learn by our former speeches touching this matter, which were chief of good affections, and of such as are most natural in man. Therefore following our matter subject, we must from henceforth consider of a great number of other affections of the heart, which for the most part make men more beastlike than the very beasts themselves, that are void of all understanding and reason, yea then the wildest beasts that are. All which affections take their beginning from the opinion of evil, as these that are good proceed from the opinion of Good. For the fear of evil doth wonderfully provoke a man, & when he is touched therewith, he waxeth very savage and wild. Now the first sting and biting of evil is offence, by reason that the heart is offended, even as when one rusheth against a thing & hurteth himself. Of offence. Therefore by offence we understand properly a certain grief of the soul & of the heart, which cometh through some touch of evil that agreeth not to our nature. This first sense of grief is like to the first pricking of one's body: and is contrary to the first pleasure, which we receive of some Good that is offered unto us, and is agreeable to our nature. So that as this pleasure, when it is confirmed, is turned into love, so out of this first feeling of grief, which I call offence, the other affections that are joined with grief do bud forth afterward, namely, anger, hatred, envy, indignation, revenge, cruelty and such like. The evil that may offend us, What evil may offend us. is whatsoever we judge to be contrary to us and to our nature, as well in regard of the body as of the soul. For as the body is offended by those evils which trouble the harmony and temperature thereof, and which bring grief and hurt unto it: so is it with the soul, and with all the powers, senses and affections thereof. For she may be offended in her imagination and fantasy, in her reason, in her will, and in her affections. Now because every one followeth his affections, or his natural inclination, and not the right rule and judgement of reason, it is an easy matter to offend and displease many, and that in many things, but not so easy to please them. For there is but one only reason, or at leastwise it hath no great diversity in it. But the natural dispositions of men are infinite, and wonderful divers and disagreeing, yea clean contrary one to another. And because there is nothing in all the life of man, in which both good and evil are not mingled together, or at leastwise some show of them, therefore also there is nothing that may not be taken both ways, Why men are so easily offended. either this or that way. Whereupon that which pleaseth some, displeaseth others: beside that the want of the true knowledge of things, and of examining thoroughly what good or evil is in every one of them, is the cause of this error that beguileth men so. But howsoever it be, we ought to be very wary that we offend no man by doing evil, and by turning aside from the duties of true charity. And that which offendeth, is so much the more grievous, What offences are most grievous. as it pierceth more inward and deep into the thing offended. For the chiefest part of any thing is that which is most inward. Wherefore that which entereth in so far toucheth the quick indeed, and so offendeth and hurteth. For this cause that offence and hurt is very grievous: but those offences that are in the will, are greatest of all. As for those that are in the reason, they are not so grievous: and those that are in the other senses, especially in the senses of the body, are less than they. Nay, we think not ourselves offended at all, if our will be not offended. Therefore we will suffer many things done by some, which we will not abide in others, according as we esteem them to be friends or enemies, and as we are well or ill affectioned towards them. Likewise many things please us that are done or uttered by ourselves, which would offend us if they were spoken or done by others. And forasmuch as there is no offence but where there is sense and feeling, therefore they are soon offended and most difficult to please, Of the nature of mankind, & how hardly it is pleased. that are most tender and delicate both of body and soul, whether they be so naturally, or through custom, or of weakness. And surely amongst all living creatures man is most testy, and can suffer least. For he can bear with nothing, and himself is intolerable to all. Wherefore if all men generally be so hard to serve, no marvel if there be nothing so well, so justly and holily spoken that can please a whole people, or a great multitude. But some are so accustomed to contemn all things, that they are offended at every thing, and grieved without any judgement or distinction. Yea there are some to be found amongst them, that think it a point of great wisdom to do so, and to like of nothing how well soever it be done. Now when men are led with such a froward and peevish affection, they are very careful to inquire diligently into all things, but with an unjust judgement, to see if they can find any thing to condemn: thinking thereby to show their great wit, which notwithstanding none will commend but fools and ignorant persons. For they must needs be so who admire such a kind of people, whereas they ought thereby to be moved not only to despise them, but also to hate and condemn them. For as we use to speak in common proverb. That it is an easier matter to reprehend then to imitate, so it is easier for every one to condemn all, or to commend all indifferently, then to discern aright between the good and the evil, and to give a good judgement thereof: because there is none so ignorant, or blockish, or malicious, which cannot do the first with ease, but the last is not so easily done but by men of good wits and upright of heart. Now having said, that offence is the first sense and feeling of evil, let us show that it is not without certain degrees, by which it ascendeth up higher. The lowest degree then that is in it, is simply to turn aside from that which displeaseth it: Of the degrees of offence. and this degree may be called Dislike or Trouble. The next above that, is when offence waxeth hot in itself, and kindleth the heart in such sort, that all the body is moved therewith. And when offence is as it were shut up, that it cannot range at will, than it turneth into rage, and offereth violence to itself, extending itself even unto those that have not offended it at all. For it is stirred up and waxeth sharp in itself, and by this mean it increaseth more and more continually. So that in the end it is like to a mad dog, which biteth as many as it meeteth withal. And although this affection doth then testify sufficiently, that it savoureth wholly of the corrupt nature of man, nevertheless if it were well ordered and did not exceed measure, it were commendable, so that we might justly place it amongst the affections of nature being sound, which ought to be the seeds of virtues in us. How offence may be wel● used. For God hath given it unto man, to the end he should presently withdraw himself, as soon as he perceiveth any evil, even at the first taste and touch of it, that so it may go no farther, lest through custom he grow into a liking of evil, and afterward follow it with might and main. For if he suddenly retire, as if he touched a serpent and feared to be bitten, he will departed so far from it that it cannot hurt him: but if he stay in it and like it never so little, he cannot withdraw himself in such due time, but that he shall feel some hurt thereby. For evil is like to thorns, which a man cannot come near unto, or handle them, but he shall be pricked: as likewise no man can touch pitch and not be defiled therewith. The remedy to cure offences. But the remedy to cure offence so far forth as it is vicious, is the moderation of the heart, whereby it becometh so deep and so well tempered, that it is able with ease to swallow up and to digest those troubles and offences, which others can in no wise bear or endure. But now that we know what this affection is, we may easily conceive how it breedeth contempt. For contempt is an offence and displeasure conceived of some evil that cannot hurt, What contempt is. and thereupon is esteemed to be vile and abject. So that it proceedeth of an evil whereof we are not afraid. For we use not to despise them whom we fear, but them only of whom we make small account, because they have not ability to hurt us howsoever they want no good will. Therefore although we desire not to do him good whom we despise, yet we will not hurt him, if there be in us but only a simple contempt of him. We think it enough for us to mock him, and to show what small account we make of him, and what small regard is to be had unto him. Hereof it is that proud persons are such great despisers and mockers of others. For seeing they esteem of none but of themselves, it cannot be but that they disdain others, and so consequently mock them. Of mockery. For derision and mockery follow contempt, and they are expressed by many outward signs, and by divers kinds of behaviour, which oftentimes are hardlier borne withal and suffered, than greater evils and injuries which men may receive: as indeed they are blows and wounds, which pierce even unto the heart and soul. Therefore contempt and mockery engender commonly anger in them that cannot digest them with modesty and patience: as the true servants of GOD do, and followers of jesus Christ, who sustained so patiently all the contempts and reproaches that were offered unto him, that no evil word or voice ever came out of his mouth, whereby he gave any signification or sign of wrath, Esay. 53. 7. but was always quiet and dumb, as it were a sheep before her shearer, according as Esaias had foretold. Which ought to be unto us an example of all modesty and patience, to the end we may know how to bridle our anger and wrath in time conceived against all them that offend, contemn and mock us. But let us now consider of other affections, which we said were joined with grief, and followed offence. And first let us learn what anger is, what are the nature and effects of it, and for what use it may serve man: and this we shall understand of thee, ARAM. Of anger, and of the vehemency and violence thereof: of the difference that is between anger and rancour: of the affection of revenge that accompanieth them: of the motions of the heart in anger, with the effects thereof: wherefore this affection is given to man, and to what use it may serve him. Chap. 55. ARAM. divers opinions of the Philosophers touching the affections. There hath been always great contentions and disputions amongst th● best learned of all the Philophers, to know whether the affections and passions of the heart and soul were necessary to prick forward and to help men to the effects of virtues, or otherwise hurtful and contrary unto them. Aristotle and all the Peripatecians maintained, that all the affections of the soul were not only natural, but given also by nature to great purpose: as among the rest, anger and choler, which served for a prick to provoke and stir up fortitude and generosity. And because virtue was a habit of that which is good and comely, yea the mediocrity of the affections, therefore it ought not in any sort to be without these motions, neither yet to be too much subject to passion. For the privation and want of desire, would have made the soul unmovable and without cheerfulness, even in honest things: as over vehement desires altogether trouble it, and set it as it were beside itself. The academics and stoics contended hard against this opinion, alleging many great arguments against it: as this among the rest: That all is either virtue or vice, and that there is no mean between them: that one of these cannot be the cause of the other, seeing they are directly and in all things contrary, having nothing common between them, and therefore that virtue never proceeded of vice. And concerning Fortitude and Generosity, which were bred in the heart by mature consultation & election of reason, that these virtues could by no means be helped by anger or choler, but rather troubled and hindered in their actions, because such passions did never use any consultation, but performed all things inconsiderately and at adventure. There are many yet to be found amongst us, that would take part with either opinion of these Philosophers, but unless they study thoroughly the book of nature, and have the spirit of God for their master and teacher, they shall never be able to yield causes and certain reasons of their resolution, nor of the wonderful effects wrought by the powers of the soul, as we may learn by the sequel of our speech. First then we must know, What anger is. that Anger is a vehement motion of the heart, because it seethe those good things which it hath, to be contemned, whereas it judgeth them not to be such as ought to be so lightly set by. And herein it thinks itself despised. For every one valueth himself according to the opinion of those good things which he judgeth to be in himself: therefore there is no anger which cometh not of offence. But all offence is not anger. How it differeth from offence. For offence is more general, & anger more special, albeit they are commonly confounded and taken one for another. But there are many things that dislike us, with which notwithstanding we are not angry, because there is no contempt of us joined with them. For oftentimes we are grieved by those things that have neither sense nor understanding, when some thing happeneth against our mind and offendeth us: and it seemeth that we are provoked to anger against them, but this is not anger properly, seeing there is nothing but simple offence without contempt of us. Also it falleth out often, that our blood is heated, and our heart pricked forward and inflamed to do some great work, for the performance whereof it is requisite that it should be much moved, but this is only a kindling of the heart without anger and offence, because it is not stirred up thereunto by any evil. But when a man letteth lose the bridle unto this affection in such sort, that he accustoms himself thereunto, Of rancour. this use and custom turneth it into rancour, which is an inveterate anger that hath taken root in the heart. Now the better that a man thinks of himself, the sooner he is offended at every thing, and the readier he is to be moved to anger, as taking himself to be despised. This is a very vehement and violent affection. For it overthroweth very often the whole mind and soul, The violence of anger. so that it forgetteth all right, justice and equity, all good will and amity, and pardoneth not, no not women or children, neither yet kinsfolks or friends Therefore Solomon saith, Prou. 27. 4. That anger is cruel, and wrath is raging: but who can stand before envy? Ecclus. 8. And Ecclesiasticus, Contend not with a choleric man: for he esteemeth the shedding of blood, as a matter of nothing & he will fall upon thee in a place where there shall be none to help thee. To be short, The fruits of anger. after that anger hath once got the bridle at will, the whole mind and judgement is so blinded and carried headlong, that an angry man thinks of nothing but of revenge, insomuch that he forgetteth himself, and careth not what he doth, or what harm will light upon himself in so doing, so that he may be avenged. And many times he will murmur against heaven and earth, and against all the creatures, because they are not moved to revenge his quarrel: yea, which is worse, he despiteth God himself and waxeth wroth against him, blaspheming him, because he taketh not pleasure in serving his revenging mind. Which is as much as if he should spette against heaven: and therefore it is very necessary, that his spittle, proceeding from such a stinking mouth, should return and fall back upon his own face. And when this passion of anger is very vehement, it leadeth a man even to fury and rage, and procureth unto him not only many diseases, but oftentimes death itself. Therefore although we knew not what hurt this affection doth to the soul, yet the evil which it bringeth to the body, aught to be of sufficient force to turn us from it. What effect it hath in the body. For it is a vice that hath wonderful effects in the body, and such as are very unbeseeming a man. For first of all when the heart is offended, the blood boileth round about it, and the heart is swollen and puffed up: whereupon followeth a continual panting and trembling of the heart and breast. And when these burning flames and kindled spirits are ascended up from the heart unto the brain, then is anger come to his perfection. From hence cometh change of countenance, shaking of the lips and of the whole visage, stopping of speech and such other terrible looks to behold, more meet for a beast then for a man. For this cause the Philosopher that counseled an angry man to behold his face in a glass, had reason so to do. For he that beholdeth his own face and countenance when he is in choler, should find matter enough to be appeased. Now because anger is a grief proceeding of the contempt of those good things that are in a man, who thinketh that it ought not to be so, therefore he desireth to show that they are not lightly to be esteemed of, which he supposeth may be done this way, by making his power known, especially in hurting. Whereupon this appetite of revenge is engendered, The fountain of the appetite of revenge. which is common to anger with offence, hatred and envy: so that anger is always mingled with sorrow and with desire of revenge. And indeed revenge is a motion of the heart, whereby it doth not only turn aside and withdraw itself from that which offendeth, but laboureth withal either to repel it, or to overcome and vanquish it, and to punish him that is the cause of it. Wherefore we may note herein two motions, as there are two respects, namely, the one to eschew the evil that offendeth, and the other to pursue with great violence him that is the author thereof. Hereof it is, that some when they are angry become pale, because the blood retireth unto the heart: The causes of looking pale and red. and these are most courageous, and most dangerous. Others wax red, because the blood ascendeth up to the head: therefore these are not so full of stomach, nor so much to be feared, in respect of those causes, which were showed before when we spoke of Fear. But howsoever the difference is, yet in anger the blood doth not wholly go back unto the heart, as it doth in fear and sorrow, but disperseth itself outwardly. For the heart is as if he strove to go out of his host or camp, not unlike to a Prince or Captain that is desirous to march forward in battle array: whereupon he sendeth forth the blood and the spirits, as his men of war, to repel the enemy: which is not done without great moving and tumult, and much stirring in the heart, which setteth it on fire, and inflameth the blood and spirits. Whereupon it followeth, that by reason of this motion of the blood, and of the confusion of the spirits, which ensue thereof, the actions and motions of all the members of the body are troubled. But the brain is chief offended, How anger troubleth the brain. because that also is heated by the inflamed blood, and by those burning spirits which mount up thither, by whose motion it is stirred up and disturbed, as also by the sinews which come even to the heart. For how hot soever the heart and breast are or may be, yet man abideth always still and quiet, if the heat pierce not up to the brain. For it falleth out herein as it doth with a drunken body, who is not said to be drunk, because he hath taken in store of wine, except it ascend up into his head, and trouble his brain and senses. Hereof it is, that vehement anger is often accompanied with frenziness, and with the falling sickness. And because the heart being inflamed, the blood and spirits also are set on fire, they cause the whole body to tremble, yea the very bones themselves. For the blood that boileth in the breast, puffeth up and thrusteth forward the Midriff, whereupon it followeth, that the motions of angry men are very troublesome, like unto those of drunkards. Now because there are many means to stir men up to anger and wrath, and seeing it is so dangerous a passion, it is very needful for us to have many good remedies against it, as indeed there are many to be found. Although we should not stand in need of so many, The best remedy against anger. if we would only consider who we are, and compare ourselves with God, and mark narrowly how many ways we offend him daily, what causes we give him to be bitterly incited and kindled with wrath against us, and how he beareth with us, turning his anger into pity and compassion towards us. For if we enter into this consideration, first we shall be greatly ashamed that we are angry, secondly our anger will be easily appeased. For who can despise us as we deserve, and move us to anger, seeing we despise God unto whom we own all honour and reverence, and whom we ought to set at so high a price above all other things, that we should esteem all the world as nothing in respect of his value? And yet we show plainly, how far we are off from this, seeing we stand in so little awe to offend him, yea, are more afraid to displease men then him. Beside, we commit no offence against him, in which there is not great contempt of his majesty, even high treason against his divine majesty. Whereas if we feared, loved and honoured him as we ought to do, we should rather fear to offend him then to die. But there is nothing which we care for less. Wherefore questionless before him, who is a terrible avenger of his contempt, we are all lost, if he should pursue us in his anger, as we deserve, and as we pursue others, and not change his anger into mercy. If we consider well of these things, we shall know what occasion we have to swell with pride like toads, and to think so well of ourselves as we do, or to be so soon kindled with choler against them that have offended us: we shall know what excellency and dignity can be in us that are but dust and filth, whereby we should be so soon provoked when we see ourselves despised and wronged of others. Moreover, when we know, that we are utterly undone, except GOD extend his grace and mercy towards us, shall we not, in stead of anger and revenge, be ashamed to crave pardon of him, if we continue still to be angry, and use no pity and favour towards them that have offended us, as we desire that God should show favour unto us? And indeed what cause have we to hope for it upon any other condition? Ecclus. 28. For it is written, that the Lord will take vengeance of him that revengeth himself, and will observe his offences narrowly. Forgive thy neighbour his misdeed, and when thou prayest, thy sins shall be forgiven thee. Shall man keep anger against man, and will he ask remission at the lords hands? He will take no pity upon his like, and shall he demand pardon for his sins? Seeing he that is but flesh keepeth his anger, and yet sueth unto God for pardon, who will blot out his iniquities? Another remedy against anger. But this ought not to be forgottten of us, to cause us to abstain from all anger towards them that by offering us injury provoke us thereunto, namely, that we acknowledge them to be the scourges of God to chastise our faults, which are worthy of greater punishment. Thus let us always look to the first cause of our affliction, and to God who visiteth us justly (whatsoever the means are which he useth) and not to second causes and to the next means, to the end that we do not as dogs do, which run after the stone thrown against them, that by biting it they may be revenged of it, not looking unto him that threw it. For if we consider that the blow given unto us cometh from God, we will let the stone go, and not follow after it with anger and revenge, but turn unto God who threw it, not to stir up ourselves to despite him, or to be avenged of him, but to crave for pardon and grace at his hands. And this is the right way which we are to take for the quenching of our choler, that so we may bridle our anger, and keep ourselves quiet. Now for the end of this matter, it remaineth that we should know whether this affection be altogether vicious, and wholly proceeding from our corrupt nature, or whether it have within it any seed of virtue, Why the affection of anger is natural, & what good cometh by it. as well as the rest. It is certain, that it is given of GOD to man, to stir him up to the desire of excellent things, to the end that when he seethe himself despised and rejected for base actions and abject things, and is grieved for the same, he should endeavour to leave and forsake them, and to addict himself to better and more noble things, which can not be contemned, nor he despised in regard of them. And this kind of anger is very good. For being angry in this sort, our anger is turned upon ourselves only, to blame and reprehend ourselves for our sloth and looseness, and for our other vices and imperfections: and by this means our anger should not be sin, but being acceptable unto God, it would be unto us a Schoolmaster, and as a spur to solicit and persuade us unto virtue, and to such things as beseem us, and that estate whereunto we are called. If then we would be angry according to the will of God, let us first be angry against ourselves for our faults and imperfections: and when we have just occasion to whet ourselves against others, let our anger be turned against their vices, not against their persons. And such an anger will show zeal for the honour of God, and the salvation of our neighbours. Now the sequel of our speech requireth, that we should speak of hatred and of envy, which for the most part follow offence and anger. Let us then hear ACHITOB discourse of these affections. Of Hatred, and of the nature and effects thereof: of a good kind of Hatred, and of the remedy to cure the evil Hatred: of Envy, and of the kinds and effects thereof: of the difference between good and evil Enuy. Chap. 56. ACHITOB. Forasmuch as nature, wisdom and goodness teach, that men ought to be knit together by love, as we have seen heretofore, and that we are by the self same nature framed and fashioned thereunto, as we may learn by that which we have heard of the form and disposition of the heart, we must needs confess, that the spirit of man can bring forth nothing more unworthy itself, then to suffer itself to be overcome of Hatred and Envy, which are so contrary to love, that they comprehend under them all general injustice and wickedness of men. For from these wild plants nothing can proceed (by reason of the corruption of man's nature) but effects that draw us clean contrary from wishing well to our neighbour. So that if we pluck out of our heart the cause of this natural obligation concerning the succour we own one to another, namely, Love, what can be either found or placed there but hardness, inhumanity, cruelty, and all kind of barbarousness, which are to be accounted and taken for monsters in man's nature? For how strange and monstrous a thing were it, to unclothe a man's heart of Love, and to put upon it hatred, envy, extreme backbiting, bitterness and cruelty, which proceed all from one fountain? Nevertheless we see, that men are inclined rather to Hatred then to Love: but let us search out the cause thereof. There are many that take Hatred to be an inveterate anger, What Hatred is. because it is a habit of anger, whereby the heart escheweth something as evil, and desireth to repel and drive it away. Wherefore this affection is directly contrary to love, & so likewise is anger. For it is an offence rooted in the hart, which causeth it to wish greatly his hurt by whom it taketh itself to be offended. Now because contempt doth often accompany hatred, and envy is never without it, besides that it breedeth strife, contentions, manslaughters and murders, therefore in the holy Scriptures hatred is often taken for all these things. The causes of it. As for the vehement causes of hatred, they are in every one according as a man esteemeth of the things he hateth. Therefore proud and envious persons are always very much inclined to hatred. Some men also are of such a hateful nature, that they scarce wish well to any body: and surely these are very devilish natures. Some likewise are given thereunto of custom, which they have gotten by rejoicing at other men's harms. But the cause why it is easier for us to hate then to love, Why it is an easier matter to hate then to love. and why Hatred taketh deeper root in our heart then love, is because hatred findeth a better soil there, and a more apt foundation to be laid upon, than love doth, and that chief for two reasons. The first is the corruption of man's nature, which being left unto itself, favoureth more of the nature of Satan, who is hateful, a liar, and envious from the beginning, then of the nature of God, who is love, truth, and charity. Therefore Saint john saith, 1. joh. 3. 10, 12. that Cain hated his brother and slew him, because he was of the devil, and Abel was of God. This hatred will be always in those that have one and the same Father that Cain had, against all good men and children of God. The second is, because the infirmity of our nature will not permit us to enjoy any good things in this world, that are pure and of long continuance: and therefore they suffer us to have but a little sense and taste of them. But it is clean contrary in regard of evils. For they quickly find whereupon to stay and to plant themselves within us, and to spread their roots so deep and broad, that they cannot easily be plucked up. Whereupon they are felt a great deal more, and continue longer in our heart and memory. Not without cause then do men say, that the pleasures, services, and good things done unto us are madeof feathers, and therefore they are easily carried away by reason of their lightness: but offences, evils, and displeasures are made of lead, and therefore they abide in the bottom of the heart by reason of their weight. And forasmuch as love proceedeth of that which is good, and hatred of evil, whether it be evil in truth, or in opinion only, as evil is commonly greater and of longer continuance then Good, for the causes spoken of, so is it with Love and Hatred, and with their roots and long abode. Now of Hatred cometh backbiting and evil speaking, The fruits of Hatred. which being kindled, bringeth forth bitterness and cruelty: and as love whetteth a man on to do well, so contrariwise Hatred turneth men aside from well doing, and provoketh them to hurt. For this cause it soweth the seeds of enmity, and laboureth craftily to cause the party hated to fall into danger. For it desireth to hurt him, and to bring evil upon him, either by itself or by an other, secretly or openly. In a word, seeing it is wholly contrary to Love, we may without any long discourse know the nature thereof, by that which hath been spoken of the nature of Love, taking it clean contrary thereunto. But let us see whether the affection of hatred be altogether together evil of itself, or whether a man may reap any profit thereby. We may say of this as we did of anger, Of a good kind of hatred. and of other affections already spoken of. For it is given to man to cause him to withdraw himself from all evil that may hurt him, to flee from it and to repel it, Rom. ●2. 9 as being contrary unto him. Amos 5. 15. Therefore Saint Paul sayeth, Hate that which is evil, and cleave to that which is good. For true and perfect hatred should hate nothing but that which is evil indeed, as true love should love that only which is good indeed. But contrariwise we commonly hate the Good and good men, and love the Evil and the workers thereof. Besides, we are faulty in this, that in stead of hating men's vices, we hate their persons. Wherefore it is needful, that in this matter of Hatred, we should put that in practice which we have already said of Anger, namely, that we should above all things hate our own vices, and that evil which is in us and in ours. But we that practise the clean contrary, change Love into Hatred, How love is turned into hatred. and Hatred into love. For when we support and bear with our own vices, or with the vices of our friends and kinsmen, which are not to be suffered or borne withal, it seemeth that this toleration proceedeth from the love we bear either to ourselves or to others: but it is far otherwise. For if we loved ourselves well, and our neighbours as ourselves, we would be careful to remove all hurtful things far from our souls, and to furnish them with that which is convenient and wholesome for them, and so likewise for our friends: whereas we procure unto them that which turneth to their dishonour, hurt, and overthrow, by nourishing them in their vices through our dissembling and bearing with them. And thus much for that profit, which we may receive by this affection of hatred, being well guided according unto the will of GOD, and to a sound and reasonable nature. Now against the passion of evil Hatred, amongst a great number of remedies which may very well be applied thereunto, we have two principal ones, Remedies against the evil kind of hatred. that are very good and profitable. The first remedy is, the example of the love of GOD, and of jesus Christ towards us, of which we have spoken already, with those holy Precepts which do command Love and forbid Hatred. The second remedy is, the contempt of all earthly things, and the regard that is to be had unto the things that are Celestial and Eternal. For if we shall set light by all mortal and corruptible things, and lift up our hearts to higher things, we shall very easily break off all hatred and enmity, neither will we take any thing greatly to heart, but when we see God offended. Now as concerning Envy, Description of Enuy. that always accompanieth hatred, it is an affection quite contrary to mercy, which is a sorrow conceived by reason of the miseries of an other, whereas Envy is a grief arising of other men's felicity. Therefore it doth naturally rejoice at another man's harm, divers sorts of Enuy. and is grieved at his good: so that according to the variety of good things that may befall other men, so there are divers kinds of Enuy. For first, some are envious, when other men's profit is so great that it hindereth theirs. There is also a kind of envy at the welfare of another, which albeit it neither hurt nor hinder us, yet we are grieved because the like is not befallen to us, or not rather to us, or not aswell to us as to another to whom it is happened. And this is a spice of covetousness. There is yet a third kind of Envy, which maketh us unwilling that others should obtain that good which we have, or which we desire, or have wished for but could not get it. And when the question is of those good things, which it seemeth we should enjoy but do not, or which we think belong to us, but are bestowed upon others, then is our envy greater, and may also be called jealousy, Moreover, there is a fourth kind that is worst of all, to which the name of Envy agreeth more properly, as being often bred of the former kinds, when a man giveth them the bridle, and suffereth them to reign too much over him. This envy is a grief conceived at another's good without any regard of it own profit, but only because it judgeth itself hurt when others receive good or do good. And this is the very envy of the Devil and of his children: which is an affection that is mingled of hatred and of joy. For it hateth virtue, and rejoiceth at vice, and at the prosperity of the wicked. Contrariwise, it is grieved at the felicity of good men, and glad of their miseries. But what kind soever of envy is in a man, there is in him grief, and as it were a biting that gnaweth him, by reason that the heart in this affection shrinketh in as it were, and closeth up itself at the good and benefit of another. Envy is never without grief. So that sorrow is always joined therewith. The goods against which envy rusheth most, are such as are in greatest reputation amongst men, as honour and glory, insomuch that it is more moved at the good renown, honour and praise given to men, in respect of the good things that are in them, then at the good things themselves, in regard of which men are honoured and esteemed. For the envious man careth not for the virtues that bring renown and glory, but only for the honour and glory which follow them, as the shadow doth the body. Forasmuch then as a proud man desireth still to be preferred before all, therefore he is more greedy of these goods, of honour, and glory, then of true goods of which the other are but shadows. Hereof it is, that a proud man is naturally envious, because envy springeth from such a desire of preferrment: yea, it is commonly bred of pride. Yea, the farther a man is off from that which he would be thought to be, and the less endued with those good things for which he would be honoured, Against what good things Envy is most bend. the more envious he is. But amongst all the good things against which envy striveth most, and for which it is most stirred up, those of the soul are the chiefest, because they are more excellent than those of the body, and such as never have end. Therefore also the reputation and honour which men obtain by their means abide with them continually. But the contrary falleth out in corporal and external goods, as they that have more narrow bounds. Wherefore, as they cannot grow to that greatness unto which the other do, so their use also is nothing so great, and consequently the price and reputation that proceedeth from them is not so great. Therefore if the question be of honour and glory, no man of any good judgement but will more willingly give over that which may be gotten by corporal and outward things, then that which followeth knowledge, wisdom, virtue, and the other goods of the soul. So that envy may stand us in stead of a witness to testify and show unto us, which are the greatest goods of all, seeing it is always busied about the highest, noblest, and most excellent Good. Now as there is no wicked affection, which carrieth not about, it own torment to take vengeance thereof by the just judgement of God, so this of envy passeth all the rest in this respect. Therefore it was well said of them that taught, that envy is most just, because of self it is the same punishment to the envious man, How an envious body is tormented. which it deserveth. For first, it is vile and servile, because an envious man knoweth this in himself, that he judgeth the good things in an other to be greater and more excellent than his own, or at leastwise, he feareth least it should so come to pass. Therefore there is no affection in a man, which he dare less disclose then this of envy: so that he receiveth less comfort in this then in any other. For by opening our heart to an other we receive solace and comfort: whereas the envious person judgeth his affection of envy to be so vile, that he dare not discover it, but hideth and concealeth it as much as he can. If he be angry or hate any one, he will declare it a great deal sooner. And albeit fear be thought to be dishonourable, yet will a man rather disclose this affection, than he will envy. The like may be said of sorrow and of love. But the envious body is constrained to bite on his bridle, to chew and to devour his envy within himself, and to lock up his own misery in the bottom of his heart, to the end it break not forth and show itself, The countenance of an envious man. whereby the body receiveth great detriment. For it becometh pale, wan, swart, and lean, the eyes sink into the head, the looks are askew, and the whole countenance is disfigured. And within the heart the furies are enclosed, which give him so small rest, that greater torment can not be imagined. Therefore Solomon saith very well, That a sound heart is the life of the body: Prover. 14. 30. but envy is the rotting of the bones. And Ecclesiasticus saith, Ecclus. 30. 17, 24. That death is better than a bitter life: that envy and wrath shorten the life, and that carefulness bringeth age before the time. To conclude, although all the evil affections trouble and corrupt the mind very much, yet none of them offendeth it so much as envy doth. Which cometh not to pass so much because itself judgeth or esteemeth good to be evil, as because it desireth that others should so esteem thereof. But howsoever this vice be very vile and infamous, and hurtful both to the body and soul, yet in this affection of envy, we must put a difference between that part of it, which proceedeth from sound nature, as it was first given of God to man, and that which is in it through the corruption of nature. Of a good kind of envy. For there is a kind of envy, which serveth us in stead of spurs to prick us forward, and to work in us a will and desire both to obtain and to keep great good things. And this envy is very good, when we apply ourselves to the true Goods, and are not grieved at the prosperity and virtues which we see in others, but are moved by their example to desire and to seek after the self same Goods, yea greater if the means be offered, provided that all be referred to the glory of God, to our own salvation, and to the profit of our neighbours. Unto this kind of Envy Saint Paul exhorteth us, when he writeth to the Corinthians, speaking of the diversity of gifts wrought by the spirit of God in his Church. 1. Cor. 12. 31. Be envious of the best gifts: albeit in our usual translation it be Desire, yet the Greek word signifieth to envy: but the sense is in a manner all one. And the same Apostle speaking of the relief & collection made for the poor, saith, 2. Cor. 9 2. Achaia was prepared a year ago, and your zeal hath provoked many: that is to say, the emulation and envy, which they have conceived by your example: and this was a good, holy, and christian envy. But if we seek our own glory, and in that respect are grieved that others excel us in virtues, and in the gifts and graces of GOD, only because we would have that honour which they have, and be equal with them, or above them, this is a perverse and Satanical affection, declaring evidently that we seek ourselves and our own glory more than the glory of God. For if we had respect to that which we ought, it would be all one to us who were the instruments either ourselves or others, so that God were glorified, and that were well done, which ought to be done. As for the evil sorts of envy of which we have spoken, they are placed by Saint Paul amongst the works of darkness and of the flesh, Roman. 13. galat. 5. 21. where he saith, that They which are defiled with them shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But forasmuch as in this discourse we placed jealousy amongst the kinds of Envy, and yet it is often taken in the good part, proceeding as it were of true love, as Zeal also is bred thereof, it shall be good for thee, ASER, to begin the days work to morrow with a treatise of these two affections. The end of the seventh days work. THE EIGHT days work. Of jealousy, and of the kinds thereof: how it may be either a vice or a virtue: how true zeal, true jealousy, and indignation proceed of love: of their natures, and why these affections are given to man. Chap. 57 ASER. The holy Scripture applying itself to the capacity of man's understanding, Esay 3. 16. and 48. 4. describeth men's affections oftentimes by those testimonies, Ezech. 3. 8, 9 which their outward members afford, convincing them of vices rooted in their heart, by the carriage of their eyes, of their eyelids, of their forehead, and of their whole countenance. Which is to this end chief, that when they know, that men may read one in another's face as it were in a Book, that which is covered and hidden in the heart, they should persuade themselves, that God soundeth and seethe more easily the most secret thoughts of their hearts, and that they can hide nothing from him. Likewise the holy spirit to condescend to our rudeness, Psal. 34. 15. and to teach us to know God by ourselves, 1. Pet. 3. 22. not only by our soul which we see not, Esay 29. 23. but also by our body which we see, speaketh often of his high, infinite, Exod 13. 14. and incomprehensible majesty, as it were of a man, attributing unto him eyes, job 40. 4. ears, a nose, a mouth, arms, legs, feet, hands, a heart, and bowels. Moreover, albeit this pure, simple, and eternal essence be in no wise passionated with affections, yet the same heavenly word doth not only attribute unto him wrath, revenge, anger, jealousy and other affections, but doth oftentimes propound him unto us as an ireful man, Exod. 15. 7, 8. having the face, behaviour, and whole countenance of one greatly stirred up to wrath & revenge, job 9 17. yea even to great fury. Which is done to this end, both, that by the knowledge which we may have of the nature of these affections whereunto we are inclined, and of the effects which they bring forth, and causes from whence they proceed, we should meditate the same things to be in God when we offend him, and know what reward we are to look for: and also to teach us that right rule of all our affections, which we have in his divine goodness. Now if we remember what hath been declared unto us of the nature of Love, we heard that true and pure love was without jealousy, and that this affection sprang of the love of concupiscence: and yet it was told us yesterday, that jealousy was placed amongst the kinds of envy. Let us then see what this affection is properly, and whether all jealousy be vicious. What jealousy is. I understand by jealousy, a fear which a man hath, lest an other whom he would not, should enjoy something. This cometh to pass two ways, namely, either because we ourselves would enjoy it alone, or else because we would have some other, to whom we wish the same thing to enjoy it alone: the reason hereof is, because we judge it hurtful either to ourselves or to those whom we love, if others should enjoy it. As if the question were of some honour, or of some other good, which we would have to ourselves alone, or for some one whom we love, and should be grieved that an other enjoyeth it, and thereupon envy him, either because we are afraid he shall enjoy it, or because he enjoyeth it already, herein appeareth envy and evil jealousy, which bringeth with it great mischiefs. james 4. 1, 2. For as Saint james saith, From whence are wars and contentions among you? are they not hence, even of your lusts that fight in your members? ye lust, and have not: ye envy and are jealous, or have indignation, and can not obtain: ye fight and war and g●t nothing. Wherefore to avoid this envy and evil jealousy, we must consider of what nature that Good is, which stirreth us up to this affection. For according to the nature thereof, our jealousy may be either a vice or a virtue. For if the question be of some Good thing, which belongeth in such sort to me alone, or to any other whom I love, that none may enjoy it except it be unjustly, and to the dishonour of God, it is no evil jealousy if I fear lest any should abuse it, A good kind of jealousy. or be grieved when it falleth out so. If it concerneth some body whom I l●●ue, who is abused by another to the displeasure of God, and to the dishonour and hurt of the party beloved, I have yet greater occasion to fear, to be grieved, and even to be jealous both over my own Good, and over the good of the party beloved. And as I have just cause of jealousy in this case in that thing which properly belongeth unto me, so also I have like occasion when an other unjustly enjoyeth that Good which belongeth to him whom I love, and of whom I ought to be careful, and be grieved when any reproach or wrong is offered unto him. As for example: seeing the husband hath such an interest in his wife, and the wife in her husband, as no other either may or aught to have the like, both of them have just cause to beware that no other have the fruition hereof but themselves, to take the matter heavily if it fall out otherwise, and to be very much offended and full of indignation against him that should attempt any such thing. For that can not be done, as not without the great dishonour and damage of the parties so knit together, so also not without the great dishonour of GOD, whose law and covenant is thereby violated. What mutual love ought to be between man and wife. On the other side, that mutual love which ought to be betwixt the husband and the wife, doth bind them to desire and to procure the honour and profit each of other, and to keep back all dishonour and hurt that may befall them. Wherefore both of them have just cause to be offended with those that seek to procure any blemish in this respect. The like may be said of fathers, mothers, and children, and of all that have any charge over others, or that are linked together by friendship. But on the other side a man must beware, that he be not too suspicious, and that he carry not within himself matter of jealousy, and so torment himself and others without cause: as likewise he must be very careful, that he give no occasion of jealousy to any other. And thus you see how there may be a good jealousy, notwithstanding that in this case it be mingled with love and anger. For jealousy causeth the party that loveth, to be angry with him by whom that thing which he doth love, receiveth any dishonour or detriment. Therefore this anger cometh of love, which inciteth him to set himself against him that offendeth the thing beloved. So that these affections are always commendable, arising of this cause and being ruled according to that Zeal and jealousy, which the holy Scripture attributeth unto GOD in regard of us. For he is called a jealous GOD, Why jealousy is attributed to God. not only in regard of his honour and glory, which he will not have given to any other besides himself, (and indeed all the creatures joined together are not able to diminish or to add any thing thereunto whatsoever they do) but also because he loveth us, he is jealous of our salvation, and desireth to reserve us wholly to himself, and to make us partakers of his immortal blessedness. Therefore he will not have us spoil him of his glory, and forsake his service, in regard of that hurt and damage which should befall us thereby. For he beareth that affection towards us, which a good Father doth towards his children, who loveth them not for any profit coming to him thereby, but only for their own good, and because he both will and aught to love them. This love then, which God beareth unto us, causeth him to be jealous over us, when, through impiety and wickedness of life, we leave him and join ourselves unto his adversary the devil. Whereupon he doth not only become angry, but is full of indignation also, both against him and us. What Indignation is. For indignation is a grief wrought in us, when we see some good thing befall to an unworthy person, and him that is worthy, deprived thereof. This affection therefore proceedeth from the same root from whence compassion springeth, namely, from the judgement of that which is good, and from the love thereof. But the diversity of both their objects causeth them in some sort to be contrary affections: forasmuch as indignation is bred in regard of some good that happeneth to one that is unworthy of it, and compassion or pity ariseth of some evil that befalleth or is procured to him that hath not deserved it. From whence Zeal proceedeth. And of these two contrary affections mingled together, a third affection is bred, which in holy Scripture is called Zeal and jealousy, being taken in the good part. Hereof it is, that the love and compassion which God hath of his children, when he seethe them go about to bereave themselves of that good, which he wisheth them, and the indignation that he hath in regard of the good, which happeneth to the wicked in the accomplishment of their evil desires, (for to them evil is in stead of good) causeth him to be moved with jealousy and to be avenged thereof. For this cause the Prophet joel saith, joel 2. 18. Then will the Lord be jealous over his land, and spare his people. And the Prophet Esay, having declared to Ezechias the deliverance of jerusalem, and the succour which GOD would send him against Senacherib, Isaiah 9 7. saith, That the zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform this. In like manner, when the true children and servants of God behold a confusion in stead of that order which the Lord would have observed, and which he hath prescribed unto his creatures, they are greatly moved in regard of that zeal, which they bear as well towards GOD, as towards their neighbours. What Zeal is. For Zeal is nothing else but an indignation conceived in respect of those things, that are unworthily done against him that is dear unto us, and whom we love. Therefore if we love GOD and his Statutes, if we love the Commonwealth, our Princes, our Parents, and all others whom we ought to love, we will be jealous for them, and can not behold without indignation aniething done against them, that ought not to be. This Indignation and jealousy will induce us to set ourselves earnestly against all injustice, and to overthrow it with all our might. With this jealousy Saint Paul was affected towards the Corinthians when he wrote thus unto them, 2. Cor. 11. 2. I am jealous over you, with godly jealousy: for I have prepared you for one husband, to present you as a pure virgin unto Christ. This kind of Zeal is very requisite in all the true servants of God, but chiefly in them that have any public charge, A good lesson for Princes and Pastors. whether it be in the Church or in the Commonwealth. For except they be endued with great Zeal towards the glory of the Majesty of GOD, towards justice and all virtues, they will never have that care which they ought either of the honour and service of GOD, or of public benefit, or to reprove, correct, and punish vices, or lastly, to maintain good Discipline, upright justice, and good conversation, in such sort as becometh them. For this cause hath GOD given to the nature of man, this affection of Zeal and Indignation for the communion that ought to be in the society of men, to the end there should be a right and indifferent distribution of all good things, so that none of them should light upon the unworthy that use them ill, but to such as deserve them and know how to use them aright. Now when these affections are thus ruled, they are very good and profitable: The abuse of Indignation and of Zeal. but commonly they are abused unto vice. For Indignation is quickly bred of Envy, which being unjust, is also of a corrupt and bad judgement, so that an envious body thinketh that whatsoever good thing an other hath befallen unto him, he is unworthy of it. And so in like manner the Zeal that is without true knowledge, bringeth forth most pernicious effects. For it proceedeth from a love which judgeth not aright of the thing that moveth it, but esteemeth it to be evil and worthy of hatred, whereas it is good and worthy of love. Of this Zeal Saint Paul speaketh when he sayeth of the jews, Rom. 10. 2. I bear them record, that they have the zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. For being deceived in their judgement, and calling themselves defenders and lovers of the law of GOD, they persecuted the Gospel, (which was the accomplishment of the Law) and also them that believed in jesus Christ: insomuch that their very Zeal was through their ignorance turned into Cruelty and Tyranny, which is a very dangerous zeal, and aught most carefully to be shunned of us, as that whereinto the best minded men of all do commonly fall, when they are blinded with ignorance: as the Apostle Saint Paul propoundeth himself in this case for an example before he was converted. 1. Timot. 1. 13. For he freely confesseth, that he was a blasphemer, a persecutor, Act. 26. 10, 11. and an oppressor, but he did it ignorantly, and through unbelief. There have been many such, not only amongst the jews, but even among the Heathen. For albeit their Religion was altogether superstitious and idolatrous, yet they always maintained and defended it with very great zeal, persecuting such as professed Christianity among them, and condemning them as the vilest and most detestable men upon the earth. But if the Lord be greatly offended when as we bear hatred and envy against any body, we cannot doubt but that this doth likewise displease him, when we commit these things, being blinded with ignorance: and that he is carried with greater indignation against us, when we maliciously cloak these vices with a false title of zeal, of religion, and of his glory, thereby to revenge ourselves, and to exercise our cruelties much more easily. But let us now proceed to consider of other affections of the heart, and first of Revenge, Cruelty, and Rage. And because Revenge is appointed to punish offences, and every vice findeth a judge within itself, we will speak also of the affection of Shame which commonly followeth every vile act. It belongeth therefore to thee, AMANA, to entreat of this matter. Of Revenge, Cruelty, and Rage, and what agreement there is among them: what Shame and Blushing is, and why God hath placed these affections in man: and of the good and evil that is in them. Chap. 58. AMANA. If every one might be a judge in his own cause, and execute his own decrees, the malice of men doth declare sufficiently, that there would be no justice observed in the world, but robbery publicly put in practice, insomuch as the strongest would always carry away the spoil. For that blind love, which every one beareth towards himself, causeth us that we cannot see clearly either into our own, or or into other men's affairs, so that we are always more ready to do wrong to others, then to departed from any thing of our own. Even so, if we might be suffered to revenge those injuries, which oftentimes without cause we suppose we have received, it is certain we would observe neither measure nor mean, but suffering ourselves to be guided by the passion of anger and wrath, we would fall into more than brutish cruelty and rage. Hebr. 10. 30. For as God hath reserved vengeance to himself, and promised to recompense it, so no man carrieth that mind to do it justly that is in him, neither indeed can any: because it is the spirit of a man that offereth injury to an other, whereas the body is but the instrument of the mind, and as it were a sword unto it, which the spirit manageth and causeth to cut. Whereupon it followeth, that the party offended can not revenge himself of his chiefest and greatest enemy. For God only is able to take vengeance of the soul, Matth. 10. 28. and to throw it together with the body into hell fire. Moreover, when we think to hurt the body of our enemy, which is but the executioner of the evil disposition of his Spirit, we hurt our own soul, making it guilty of the judgement of God, Luke 21. 19 prouer. 20. 22. who forbiddeth us all revenge and commandeth us to possess our souls in patience, and never to requite evil for evil, but to wait the lords leisure, being assuredly persuaded that he will save and deliver us. Now look what the affection receiveth and embraceth, the same doth it desire to return and send back again where it did receive it, whether it be good or evil. Therefore as a good affection both wisheth and doth well to him of whom it receiveth good will and beneficence: so a naughty affection desireth to return evil received, unto him of whom it hath received it. For this cause when the heart is wounded with grief by any one, it desireth to return the like to him that hath hurt it, and to rebite him of whom it is bitten. This affection is a desire of revenge, What revenge is. which being put in execution, is revenge accomplished: namely, when we cause him that hath offended us to suffer that punishment, which in our judgement he hath deserved. This punishment is to damnify him either in soul, or in body, or in his goods, yea, sometimes by all the means that may be. And when power to revenge is wanting, there are some that fall into outrageous speeches, into horrible and execrable cursings, crying out for vengeance either at GOD'S hand, or of some other that can perform it. Every offence therefore that engendereth hatred, anger, envy or indignation bringeth with it a desire of revenge, which is to render evil for evil, and to requite grief received with the like again. And when the offence is grown to that pass, that nothing can assuage the extremity thereof, What Rage is. nor stay it from breaking forth into revenge and hurting by all the means that may be, then is this Revenge turned into Rage. For a man in such a case is not much unlike to a mad dog. For because Revenge can not take that effect which it would have, it vexeth and closeth up as it were the hart, bringing great grief & great torment to the whole body, so that a man so affected is as if his heart & body were ready to burst asunder. Now, Of Cruelty. when the heart is hardened with Revenge, it is turned into Cruelty, which is a privation of pity and compassion. For when Offence and Anger are set on fire, they exclude all good thoughts out of the mind, and persuade to all kind of Cruelty, of which there are three degrees. Three sorts of Cruelty. For there are some that procure it, who nevertheless would not execute it themselves. There are others that execute it. Besides, there is a third kind of Cruelty, when we fail in performing our duty towards them that are in necessity, whom we both aught and might help and succour, whether this come of evil will or through negligence. For thereby we show that we are without pity and compassion. Hereof followeth inhumanity, which is as if we should lay aside all human affection and be transformed into brute beasts. Therefore we may well conclude, that all private Revenge proceeding of envy, or of hatred, or of anger, is vicious and forbidden by God, who commandeth us to render good for evil, and not evil for evil. For he hath ordained the means, whereby he will have vengeance execucuted among men. Therefore he hath appointed Magistrates to execute it according to his Law, and following his ordinance, not with any evil affection, but with just indignation proceeding from love, and from true zeal of justice. For to punish the wicked is a very acceptable sacrifice, How magistrates ought to punish. so that there be no intermingling of our own passions withal, and that we exercise not our envies, rancours, and revenges under the name and title of justice and of the glory of God. For if we do so, we cease to exercise the punishments and corrections of the Lord, and put our own in practice. We must therefore follow his example. For he suffereth not evil to go unpunished, if men avoid not punishment by his grace and mercy, and by those means which he hath appointed for the obtaining thereof. Therefore it is often said of the wicked in the Scripture, that GOD will return into their bosom the evil which they have done: and his children and servants desire him also to perform the same. But when he doth it, he is not moved with any evil affection, but only with the love he beareth to justice and virtue, and to his children, and with pity and compassion towards them in regard of the injuries done unto them. With what affection God punisheth offenders. And as himself cometh in judgement to take vengeance, so he would have them that supply his place among men, unto whom he hath committed the sword for the defence of the good and punishment of evil doers, to follow his example. But whether they do so or no, there is no sin that can avoid punishment, and that findeth not a judge even in him that committed it, to take vengeance thereof, by means of the affections, which God hath placed in man to that end. Among which Shame occupieth a place, which we ought well to consider of. Concerning this affection, What Shame is. there are some that are ashamed in regard of some fear of dishonour, of which there followeth no damage: or in respect of some grief or perturbation of the soul, arising of some things that seem to bring some dishonour with them. Forasmuch therefore as Shame is a fear of dishonour, it is of great force in them that love honour. For the more they love it, the more do they fear dishonour, which is the contrary thereof, as a very great evil. And for this cause there is in Shame not only a fear of villainy, but indignation also, after the committing of some fault. For he that is faulty, chafeth, and is angry with himself, because of the dishonour he receiveth through his offence. And this kind of Shame is the simplest and lightest, and may be called Blushing, being very common especially in children and virgins. Now for as much as herein the spirits withdraw themselves unto the hart, as unto a centre, and presently as it were in the same instant return back again, the face is painted with a vermilion colour, Blushing commendable in some persons. which is very pleasant and comely, namely, in that age and in those persons. Therefore is this colour rightly called the colour of virtue. For God hath placed this affection of shame in the nature of men, to the end it should be unto them as a bridle to stay them from committing vile things, and as a judge and Revenger to punish them after they have done such things. Therefore also there is yet another kind of shame more vehement, A second kind of Shame. which approacheth near unto the affection of anger, and is mingled with wrath and fear. For it is a motion of the heart, in which he that feeleth himself guilty of any dishonest crime or act, is angry with himself for the same, and punisheth and revengeth himself upon himself: and withal feareth the judgements of others, and the rebuke and dishonour that may come unto him for it. For as we have heard already, God hath placed in the nature of man sundry affections, of which some are sweet and pleasant, to the end they should be unto us as it were spurs unto virtue: others are bitter and unpleasant, that they might be unto us in stead of punishments, and that the grief which they bring might teach us to know more clearly what diversity there is between virtue and vice, and what difference we ought to put between good and evil deeds. Therefore there is not a worse thing in man, nor any disease more dangerous to the soul than impudency, which is wholly contrary to Shame and Blushing. For whosoever is once past all Shame, Impudency a very dangerous disease. he hath no care at all of his honour, much less of the honour of GOD. Hereof it is that the holy Ghost by the Prophets doth greatly accuse the impudency of the wicked, saying unto them by way of reproach, that they had whores foreheads, jerem. 3. 3. and would not be ashamed: that they were impudent children and stiff hearted, Ezech. 2. 4. and 3. 7. and that they did glory in their wickedness after they had done evil, in stead of being ashamed and amending their faults. Now whereas we said, that Shame painteth the face with a vermilion colour, The cause of redness in the face in blushing. we are to know, that the passions and affections of the soul breed great change in our bodies, as they that move the spirits and the natural heat, by opening and shutting up of the heart: whereby the spirits are either enlarged or restrained. Thus it cometh to pass, that the colour of the face is changed, it being a property of the heart to set in it certain marks and signs of the affections that are in it, as we have already heard. Therefore doth Shame paint the cheeks with redness, because the danger that springeth of fear is of that nature, that the heart standeth in need of help to repel and drive it away, namely, of that heat that retireth back unto it. Now forasmuch as there is perturbation in Shame, by reason of the opinion and fear of dishonour and blame, heat is drawn up to the head, and so from thence it is dispersed over the face. And although Shame doth not trouble the heart and mind so much as fear doth, yet doth it confound the head, and causeth it oftentimes to forget what it thought and was purposed to have done. As we see it sometimes in very wise and skilful men, when they are to speak or to do something before personages or companies whom they reverence. And this is incident for the most part to such as are most modest, and to them that presume least of themselves, who indeed can not hear their own praises without shame and blushing, A cause of fear in men. such is their nature and modesty: or else it is because their hearts are very little, which maketh them also fearful. Now although too much shamefastness, when it is causeless, is worthy of blame, because it often keepeth them that are overtaken therewith from doing many good things, & from employing the gifts which they have received of God as it becometh them: yet is it more praisewoorthy than impudence, which as it maketh men altogether shameless & brasenfaced, so it usually accompanieth proud & arrogant persons. For it is clean contrary to modesty. Seeing therefore we learn, that shame is a fear of dishonour and blame, and of doing that that might procure it, we must take good heed that we judge aright of that which is to be accounted vile and dishonest, and of that which may bring unto us honour or dishonour, praise or dispraise. For our nature being full of darkness through sin that reigneth in it, our natural judgement is not so entire and upright as it ought to be, to judge well either of that which is truly honest, and which bringeth with it honour and commendation, or otherwise of the contrary unto it. Whereupon it cometh to pass, that we oftentimes take one for another, & so light upon that, which we least sought for or desired. Therefore let us know and learn this, that there is nothing honest but virtue, nor any thing dishonest but vice: and that as nothing is more beautiful and of greater renown than virtue, so nothing is more ill-favoured, dishonourable and infamous than vice. But forasmuch as there is great diversity of opinions, what is to be accounted honest and dishonest, what virtue, what vice, what praise what dispraise, let us learn to frame our judgement out of the law and word of God, The rule of all true judgement. which is the rule of all justice and truth. Otherwise it will come to pass, that we shallbe oftener ashamed of well doing then of evil doing, and of virtue then of vice: which were a vile shame, and such a one as that we ought to be greatly ashamed thereof. For in well doing we must never be afraid of that shame, Shame of well doing. which the wicked think to bring upon us, but rather account it honourable and glorious. Yea themselves shall be ashamed and confounded when their vices and vile actions shallbe discovered by our honesty and virtue: whereas if we join with them, we shall cause them to be void of shame when they do ill, yea, they will boast and vaunt of it before us. But enough of this matter. Now forasmuch as arrogant and proud persons are farthest off from using aright any of those affections of the heart, of which we have hitherto discoursed, especially of shame, I am of opinion that we are to look into the nature and effects of the passion of pride. Therefore, ARAM, this shall be the subject of thy discourse. Of Pride, with the consideration thereof as well in nature entire, as corrupted: of the original thereof, and of such as are most inclined thereunto: what vices accompany it, how great a poison it is, and what remedy there is for it. Chap. 59 ARAM. There is nothing more easy then for a man to deceive himself. For look what a man earnestly desireth, he supposeth it is already as it were come to pass, or at least he promiseth to himself that he shall easily obtain it. But oftentimes things fall out otherwise then men look or hope for. The cause why men deceive themselves. Now the chief cause of their error herein is that presumption, which commonly they have of their own wisdom and virtue, whereby they are lift up with vain confidence and puffed up with pride. For when men are carried away with an inordinate and blind love of themselves, they are soon persuaded that there is nothing in them worthy to be despised, yea they think that their ignorance is wisdom: insomuch that knowing nothing, they suppose they know all things, and having no dexterity to perform one commendable work, they presume very inconsiderately to set their hand to every great matter. But the more care & diligence they bestow, being led with a desire to show great skill and thinking to win honour and renown, so much the more they discover their ignorance and blockishness, purchasing to themselves shame and infamy. Now the truth of God teacheth us to consider otherwise of ourselves, namely, that we want both sound understanding, and strength also to accomplish any good thing. Which knowledge ought to keep us back from all presumption, and overweening of our own wisdom and strength, and take from us all matter of pride and glory, to lead us unto modesty and humility. This rule we ought to follow if we will attain to the white of good judgement and well doing. Now as shame and confusion is bred of some vile and dishonest fact, What pride is. as we have heard, so vice fetcheth his beginning from pride. I call pride a puffing up of the soul and heart, proceeding from the opinion of some excellent good thing in us more than is in others, whereby a man is in estimation & honour, whether this good thing be present, past, or to come. But we are to consider of two fountains and first causes of this inflation and affection of the heart, namely of one that proceedeth from nature pure and entire, and of another that cometh from nature as it is corrupted. Two kinds of pride. So that we may boldly say, that there is a kind of pride which is no vice but a virtue, or at leastwise the seed of virtue. For there was no vicious or evil thing in the first nature as it was created of God, but every thing in it was virtuous, and the seed of virtue, as we have already showed in the former discourses already made by us. Wherefore that natural pride of man, being such as he should have been if he had continued in his first nature, would be an excellent virtue, and as it were the mother of all the rest, whereas now it is the most ugly and monstrous vice that can be found in the whole nature of man corrupted, by means of which it is become the father of all vices and sins. For seeing GOD hath done this honour to man above all other bodily creatures, as to create him in regard of his soul, of a celestial and divine nature (for which cause the very Heathen affirm that mankind is of the lineage and parentage of God) he would not have him ignorant of the excellency of his being, and of those great and wonderful benefits, which he hath received of him in his creation, and of which he hath made him partaker chiefly for three causes. Three causes why God created man so excellent. The first, to this end that knowing what grace and honour God his Creator hath bestowed upon him, he might be moved continually to acknowledge and honour him as it becometh him. The second, to the end that knowing the excellency of his nature, and of the stock from whence he came, he should love himself in God his Creator, and in him think himself worthy of true goods, even of the greatest and most excellent that may be, namely of heavenly and eternal goods: and that he should know that he was created for them, and that through the knowledge and consideration thereof he might be provoked to wish for and to desire them with great courage. The third, that by this means he might fear to degenerate from so high and noble a lineage as that is from whence he is descended, and to fall from so high a degree of honour and dignity into dishonour and shame, and to lose those excellent goods whereunto he was allotted, if he committed any thing unbeseeming so noble and so excellent a nature as was the nature of God according to the image of which he was creted. Of a good kind of pride. This then is that holy pride, which ought naturally to remain in man, and whereby he might well have desired to be like unto GOD, especially in goodness, and that by those only means by which the Lord would have him be brought unto this similitude, and which himself had taught him: namely obedience, and that so far as was agreeable and meet for his nature. But our first parents giving ear to him, who first degenerated from this holy pride, under colour of being equal not to the goodness but to the power and greatness of God, were soon persuaded to believe the promise, which this liar had made unto them of a far greater and more excellent estate, than was that wherein God had created them: insomuch as their humility and obedience whereby they were united and conjoined in great glory with God, was turned into arrogancy and disobedience. Whereupon doubting of the truth of God's word, they harkened to the devils counsel, propounded unto themselves the self same means and degrees to make themselves equal with God their Creator, which this wretch and his angels had taken before, and whereby he fell from the highest estate of glory to the most bottomless gulf of misery. And this is that bastardly and earthly pride that is entered into man's nature, of which it is said, Ecclus. 10. 14, 19 That pride is the original of sin, and he that hath it shall power out abomination, till at last he be overthrown. And a little after: Pride was not created in men, neither wrath in the generation of women. And indeed God hath made man of a mild and communicable nature, apt to society, and to live with company not solitarily as savage beasts use to do. Of the evil pride. Therefore there is nothing more contrary to his nature, and to that end for which he was created, than this vicious pride, whereby he is so puffed up and swelleth in such sort, as if he were of some other nature and condition then human, and as though he meant to live in some other estate and degree then of a man. By which doing he degenerateth from that first nature in which he was created: Ecclus. 10. 7. whereupon Ecclesiasticus concludeth, That pride is hateful before God and man. Now the more arrogant and proud a man is, the more ignorant may he be said to be of true goods, and such as are eternal; and whereas he should wish for and long after these, his whole affection is turned to the desire of worldly glory and of earthly things. Which desire proceedeth from that inconsiderate love that every one beareth towards himself, which keepeth a man from the knowledge of himself. For if be known himself well, he might see in himself nothing but such matter as should cause him to abase and to humble himself, not to be puffed up and to presume of himself in any respect. Who are most given to pride. Hereupon it followeth, that they are naturally most inclined to pride, which are most ignorant, most rude, most abject, most inconsiderate, most hasty and headstrong. For they that are skilful and wise, sharp witted, moderate and well stayed, who look into and take a view of themselves, and know well what is within them, such men understand and are able to judge very well, that there is nothing in man that should cause him either to swell or to be blown up with pride. Therefore we commonly see, that they which have most excellent virtues in them, that have greatest gifts of God, and could find in themselves most matter of pride, are notwithstanding most modest and most humble. And contrariwise the greatest blockheads, and such as are most unapt to every good thing, most destitute of all good and excellent gifts of nature, are for the most part the loftiest & most proud: so that a man may well say of them that they are proud peasants, especially when they are blown up like bladders with some wind of prosperity, when their noses are perfumed, or their eyes dimmed with some smoke of honours, or of worldly wealth. Many other causes of pride might be noted in the nature of man. Causes of pride. For those that are of a hot and burning nature, as choleric persons are more subject to this vice than many others, and that chief for two reasons. For holding of the nature of fire, which always ascendeth upward, if they follow their natural inclination, they will take also of the nature thereof, aspiring continually unto high matters. And as the fire is light, quick and violent, so will their judgement and all their affections be, which will carry them away headlong and greatly trouble them. It is very requisite therefore, that water should be cast upon this fire. What vices follow pride. Now as pride breedeth arrogancy, so envy, ill will, anger, rancour, and desire of revenge do follow and accompany it, together with impatience, indignation, self-will, obstinacy, and other such like vices. For a proud person waxeth envious at the good of another, as if he thought himself only worthy, or as if he accounted all greatness in others a hindrance to his own. And because he supposeth that he is never so well esteemed of as he deserveth, he waxeth very angry, being desirous to revenge himself if there be any means. Besides, to the end he might always seem to be better than others, he never ceaseth boasting and bragging. For pride being nothing else but wind that puffeth up the heart (even as fire causeth water to swell and to send forth great waumes) if the proud man should not find some issue for this wind, he would burst asunder. Therefore he speaketh big, he chideth and threateneth, thundereth and lighteneth, and waxeth so insolent, that both for his words and deeds he becometh untolerable unto all. And because he cannot give place to any, if he stand in contention for any thing, he holdeth his opinion with invincible obstinacy: insomuch that no authority whatsoever, no truth how apparently soever it be laid before him, no benefit or profit shallbe able to turn him from that which he hath once imagined. For his desire to be preferred before all, and in all matters is so hot and fervent, that he feareth nothing more than to be accounted inferior in any one matter to any other body whosoever he be. And this causeth him also to be unteachable and unapt to learn. For by reason of his pride, he is ashamed to learn. Besides, the ambition and insatiable desire of glory that is in him, causeth him that he cannot suffer any admonition, but continueth resolute in that which he had once taken hold of. And he is so far from suffering patiently, that any man should condemn him, or any word or deed of his, that he will have his vices taken for virtues, and looketh to be commended for them. Yea some are so passionate, and carried away with so great impatience and furious indignation, that they storm and rage not only against men, Pride lifteth men against God. but also against God, even so far forth as to despite and blaspheme him openly. For the ignorance & inconsiderateness that engendereth pride is so blockish and rash, that it giveth us no leisure to consider of and to judge what good things are in us, neither from whence they come, or who it is that giveth them, or in what manner, or for what reason. To be short, God cometh not at all into our thought, neither do we attribute anything unto any other besides ourselves. And although many proud persons dissemble these damnable affections, and dare not oftentimes lay their hearts so open, but rather think there is no such matter in them, nevertheless it is so in truth and in effect, so that all men would judge them to be such, if they were able to see and know as God seethe and knoweth. Moreover, we are to note, that pride is such a vice, that it is a harder matter for a man to be at peace and concord therewith, then with any other whatsoever. Prou. 13. 10. Whereupon Solomon saith, That only by pride doth man make contention. Yea there is always strife and dissension amongst the proud themselves, when every one desireth to be preferred one before another, and cannot. As for humbling and abasing themselves, there is no talk of that, unless they draw a little backward that they may the better leap forward, and debase themselves, that they may ascend up higher. And as for friendship, a proud man hath never any in him that is true and sound, but only that which is counterfeit and feigned, towards them that submit themselves unto him through flattery. Pride bred of virtue. But that which is most dangerous in pride, is when it is bred of humility, of modesty, and of virtue. For there are many, who considering their own modesty and other virtues, and condemning pride and other vices, are delighted therewith after an insolent manner, and are puffed up with pride thereby. Whereby we see what windings and slippery turnings are in that old serpent the Father of pride, into how many fashions he changeth himself, and in what manner he hath infected and poisoned our heart. For he hath brought it to this pass, A similitude. that as venomous beasts turn all they eat how good soever it be into venom, so the proud man turneth all his thoughts, words and deeds into pride. For he draweth and referreth every thing to his own honour and glory: and therefore Saint Chrysostome very aptly compareth Vainglory to a moth. For as the moth marreth and consumeth that cloth in which it is bred, so vainglory sometime springeth of virtue, and afterward corrupteth it. For there is no virtue so excellent, which is not turned into vice and made abominable before GOD, so soon as it is mingled therewith. Seeing then pride is such an horrible monster, as that which breedeth and bringeth forth so many other monsters, we ought to seek diligently after all remedies for it that may possibly be had, whereby it may be tamed and kept under, and so our souls cured of such a dangerous disease and plague. Now forasmuch as it proceedeth of ignorance and of inconsiderateness, and through the want of the due knowledge of God and of ourselves, we must redress this evil by the virtues contrary to these vices, A remedy against pride. namely by the true knowledge of God, of his word and of ourselves. Which we shall obtain if he deal so graciously with us as to fill us with his holy spirit, and to give us an humble heart, that renouncing all pride and all arrogancy, we may learn to walk in his fear, and in all obedience to his holy will, so that we wholly consecrate ourselves unto him both in body, soul, and spirit, in will, heart and all our affections. Now having spoken sufficiently of that matter into which we fell whilst we handled the second belly, which God hath placed in man for the lodging of the vital parts, and namely of the heart, which is the seat of the affections, it remaineth, that we consider of the third belly, which is the seat of the natural powers and virtues of the soul: of which thou shalt begin now to discourse, ACHITOB. Of the natural powers of the soul, and what sundry virtues they have in the nourishment of the body: of their order and offices: of their agreement and necessary use: where the Vegetative soul is placed in the body, and what Virtue it hath to augment the same. Chap. 60. ACHIT. The disposition & placing of the principal parts of our body, & of that noblest members thereof, is a goodly school, wherein we may learn, how much more careful we ought to be of heaven then of the earth, and of the spirit then of the body. We have already heard, how the internal parts of man were divided into three bellies and lodgings, of which the two former, namely the brain and the heart, together with the virtues, offices and works of the soul in them, have been declared unto us. It remaineth that we consider of the last lodging of the body, which properly beareth the name of belly, & which is the seat of these natural powers and virtues of the soul, which we call Vegetative and nourishing, Three kinds of the Vegetative faculty in the soul. and is divided into three kinds, namely, into the virtue of nourishing, of augmenting or growing, and of engendering. Now when we see this order and disposition in our nature, A profitable meditation. we ought seriously to think, that seeing God hath placed the heart between the head and the belly, the Vital virtue of the soul between the Animal and Nutritive, and the will between the understanding and the most sensual part in us, therefore the heart, affections, and will aught to look always on high, and not downward, to the end they should join to the most noble, celestial and divine part, and not to that which is most base, sensual, and earthly. Whereunto that also aught to induce and lead us, which we learned before of the agreement between the highest and middlemost of these principal and more noble parts of the body, unto which this last is inferior in all kind of excellency, beauty, and dignity. This belly of which we are now to discourse, Of the third and last belly of the body. containeth all the members and instruments that serve for nourishment and generation: whereupon it is termed the Kitchen and Nursery of the body, and the seminary and wellspring of mankind. But before we enter into a particular consideration of these members and instruments, we are to look into the natural powers of the Vegetative soul that is in them. And first we will note that which we spoke of elsewhere, The office of heat in man. of the office of heat and moisture in the nature of the body, that as moisture keepeth heat within it, so heat drinketh and soaketh up moisture as much as it may, digesting and dispelling it by the virtue and action of it own nature. Now whilst this moisture is thus digested by the heat, there is a separation made of that which is profitable in the body, from that which is superfluous, and consequently, hurtful to the body. That which is profitable for it, is the juice and humour that agreeth with it, in regard of the similitude and likeness that is between them. Whereupon it followeth, that all moisture that is greatly diverse or contrary to the body, is hurtful for it, as also all dry matter, which likewise hurteth the health and life thereof. So that this virtue of the soul, which we call natural, or otherwise Vegetative, and which comprehendeth under it the virtue of nourishing, The power, order and office of the Vegetative soul. of augmenting and of engendering (every of which having six others tending all to one end as we heard already) this virtue I say, causeth that which is profitable for the nourishment of the body, first to be distributed unto the members, and then to be turned into the bodily substance of the living creature, because that virtue and power of the soul doth embrace and receive it, acknowledging it already to be a part of the body. Therefore the virtue of drawing nourishment that is in the soul, hath for an helper the virtue of retaining and keeping, until there be a convenient change thereof made by the faculty, and power of digesting, and as it were dressing of it. For otherwise the attractive and retentive power, were to small purpose. Now when the meat is digested, so much of it as is pure must be separated from that which is impure, by the virtue of purging: and that which is impure, must be delivered over to the expulsive virtue to be cast out, and the rest which is pure to the virtue of distributing, after which the virtue of incorporating executeth his office and duty. Thus you see how all these particular virtues, serving to the general virtue of nourishing, do their duties one after another according to that order, which nature hath assigned them. For except this agreement and order were kept, there would be great confusion, and the body could not receive his due nourishment. Therefore doth one of them attend upon and help another, yea all of them tend to one and the same end by divers means. For after the meat is received, attracted and retained, it must be digested before it be separated; so that the expulsive virtue is to attend upon this separation and distinction. Neither can the attractive or drawing virtue do his office well, unless the body be first empty: neither the virtue of concocting or preparing, if the body be not purged of the meat received before. And if any of these virtues doth not his duty, the residue are made more dull, slow and languishing. For there is such agreement betwixt them, and they are by such equal proportion tempered throughout the whole body, that nothing can befall any one of them, but the residue will feel it. Neither can that which is wanting in one be supplied by an other. For GOD having assigned to every one his proper office, they deal not one in another's affairs, but every one abideth in his own office, and goeth not beyond his appointed bounds and limits: A similitude taken from 〈…〉. as the like is to be seen in the printing house and amongst them that stamp money. For if the Compositor fail in the 〈◊〉 of his letters, the Printer that putteth ink upon the forms, doth not correct the faults of the Compositor. And if the Printer doth not distribute his ink well, he that draweth the sheets from the press correcteth not his fault. For every one hath his office apart, with which only he meddleth. So likewise in Coin, if he that cutteth prepareth and fineth the metal fail in his duty, he that cutteth it in pieces will correct nothing, but divideth it as it is delivered to him. Then he that maketh it flat, that it may be fit for him that stampeth it, doth nothing but that which is committed to his charge: and if he that stampeth it, findeth it not so flat or so round, as it ought to be, yet doth he nothing but mark it, and so leaveth it as he found it. Moreover, A good lesson for every one. we are to note well, how God giveth us even in our nature, a goodly instruction concerning that order and concord that ought to be amongst us all, by doing every one his duty, and helping each other so far as we may. For we may learn three principal points in that order, which God hath set between the virtues of the Vegetative soul for the nourishing of the body, which serve greatly for the preservation of human society, First, how every one ought to behave himself in his office, and not leave others to perform that work which is enjoined him. Secondly, how every one of us ought to keep his rank and order, not making over much haste nor being too slack, and without any confusion of offices, or usurping any thing of that which belongeth to others. Thirdly, the consideration of those inconveniences which may befall every commonwealth and society of men, if this order be not well kept and observed. For the like will happen unto it, that doth to a body, which is not nourished as it ought to be, and in which the natural virtues do not their duty, as I have declared. For from thence proceedeth all the confusion that is in the life of man, and all those miseries which we daily see therein. Concerning the seats of these virtues of the nourishing soul mentioned by us, Of the seats of the natural virtues. we are to know, that although they be greater and more apparent in some parts then in others, yet they are spread throughout the whole body, but after a diverse manner. For in perfect living creatures, the concoction of the meat is first made in the stomach, that so it may be prepared for the liver; the second is made in the liver, that it may be turned into blood: the third is in all the members, that it may be changed into their substance. So that there is no end or stay in the body of concocting, and consequently of purging the meat, and of casting out that which is superfluous. For the heat doth continually warm, and as it were seeth the moisture: neither is there any meat so pure, which hath not always some excrements and superfluities, that are to be separate and ejected. Hereof it is, that the whole body of living creatures is as it were bored through, and hath divers pipes to the end there might be more open passages for the avoiding of these excrements according to that purging which is done day and night by the parts appointed thereunto, How excrements are voided. as we have already touched it, speaking of those members whereby such purging is performed after a divers manner, especially when we spoke of the brain. Now besides that purging which is under the armepittes and in the groin, we see how the thinnest excrements void at every part of the body, as we may judge by that filth which daily is seen in the head, hands, feet and in all the rest of the body. For we cannot busy ourselves so much in washing and cleansing all the parts and members of the body, but still we may find somewhat to wash and to make clean. Therefore we stand in need of daily nourishment, that whatsoever diminisheth continually from us, may from time to time be restored and made good again. But this virtue of nourishing, is the first and simplest of all the natural virtues of the Vegetative soul. For there are two others necessary for the life and preservation of living creatures, of which we have already spoken, namely the power of augmenting, and that other of engendering. Of the growing of bodies. So that living creatures are not only nourished by that food which they receive, but they grow bigger and beget their like. For there is no living creature that hath a body, but it groweth up until it come to a certain greatness and measure. For this cause the virtue of augmenting and growing was added to the nourishing virtue: and the virtue of engendering to them both, Wherein the natural virtues differ each from other. but so as they differ in many points. For first, although the virtues of nourishing and of augmenting agreed in this, that they are both given to every living creature, yet they differ herein, that the virtue of nourishing continueth always so long as the creature liveth, even from the beginning of it unto the end. But the virtue of growing greater, although it begin with the other, yet hath it a set time limited, wherein it stayeth: and as before the creature waxed bigger and increased in greatness and vigour, so after it cometh to the appointed time, it beginneth to fall and to diminish, and as it were to retire back, and to restrain itself. And as for the virtue of engendering, it differeth from both the other, first in that it is not given so generally to all living creatures as they are, and then in that it beginneth not so soon. For it cometh then when the living creature through nourishment and growth, hath attained to those virtues that are necessary for generation. Besides, it hath this common with the virtue of augmentation, that it hath certain limits and bounds, unto which after it is once come, it weakeneth and in the end decayeth utterly. Wherein it differeth from the nourishing virtue. Now the virtue of growing greater hath as many other particular virtues under it for the execution of it own office, as the virtue of nourishing hath according as was touched before. Whereby we learn, that bodies grow not greater, neither augment by the heaping up of much matter outwardly applied, as when a house is set up, we see timber joined to timber, and stone to stone in the building of it, but this is done by the same hidden and secret art and cunning in nature, whereby we are nourished. For in this point there is no difference between the virtue of nourishing, and that of augmenting, but only herein that in nourishment the meat is turned into the substance of the body, How meat nourisheth the body. and in augmenting the food being thus turned, doth from within stretch forth the quantity of the body outwardly. And so this virtue of augmenting dependeth of the nourishing virtue. For meat nourisheth as it is a substance with qualities meet for nourishment, and augmenteth by reason of the quantity it hath. For this cause hath God created the bodies of living creatures with such a substance, that as they have sundry passages and holes in them like to sponges, to the end to purge by them, so he would that the substance they receive by their food might pass by the same holes, that they might augment and grow greater. So that all of them have their pores and little holes albeit they appear not to the eye, whereby nourishment entereth and extendeth itself in greatness, length, and thickness. The consideration hereof hath caused some skilful men, How metals and stones grow. to place metals and stones in the rank of living creatures, because they grow in the earth, as the bodies of plants and living creatures do. Neither is their opinion without some show of reason. For we know that they grow and increase and that inwardly: which seemeth not to be done without drawing unto themselves some inward nourishment, as living creatures use to do. Besides they have also their pores and passages to stretch forth and augment themselves by. Notwithstanding all this there is greater reason to place them in the rank of those natures and creatures, which augment and grow greater by adding and joining of matter unto them, as we see fountains and rivers to increase: and so likewise fire. Which albeit it seemeth to be nourished and augmented with that matter which is put unto it, yet is it not nourished as living creatures are by means of that food which they receive. For they have their bounds of growing set them which they cannot pass, as we see the like also in plants: but fire hath no limits, as that which always increaseth, as long as it findeth any matter to burn. Whereby we may conclude, that natural heat in man or in other living creatures, is not the cause of their nourishing and growth, but only the instrument; The true cause or nourishing in creatures. and that the true cause, in regard of second causes, is in the soul next after God, who is the first cause of all things, yea the cause of causes. Therefore it is he that hath allotted out to every man the term first of his life and growth, and then of his declining and death: so that according as he will either prolong or shorten our life, and cause us to increase or diminish, so he disposeth the second causes, and those means whereby he will bring it to pass. Now we must consider what instruments the soul useth to execute in the body of man, her natural works of nourishing and augmenting it, (of which we have now spoken) and after what manner she useth them. First then we will look into the ventricle and stomach, and see what figure, what Orifices and filaments it hath. This matter then, ASER, belongeth to thee to entreat of. What instruments the Soul useth in the body about the natural work of nourishing and augmenting: of the Ventricle or stomach, and of the figure, Orifices, and Filaments it hath: of the coats of the stomach, and of what substance and nature it is: of the causes of hunger, and of appetite: of the inferior Orifice. Chap. 61. ASER. We should be very happy if we knew how to follow that order in all our doings, which God hath set down in all his works, and whereof he giveth nature unto us for a Mistress. But if the simplicity of our understanding be not able to attain to so high wisdom, at the least we may know how far short every one of us cometh of our duty, and from whence proceedeth all the confusion that is in the life of man, and all those miseries which we commonly behold. On the other side, nothing could hinder us were it not a voluntary and malicious ignorance, in that we consider not, what a marvelous and excellent Woorkemaster, God the Creator showeth himself to be, in this part of the soul whereof our present discourses are, and in that order, which he hath set therein, and in those virtues which he hath bestowed upon it. For his work is so excellent, and worthy of so great admiration, that no wisdom or power whatsoever is able so much as to imitate it. Wherefore we are to account it a very great and noble blessing, to have only some knowledge of it, and to be able to comprehend some thing thereof by our understanding. For there will be always enough whereat to marvel greatly, and namely in the consideration of those instruments, which the soul useth in the nourishment and growth of bodies, as we shall know in the sequel of our discourses. Therefore as heretofore we have handled and spoken of the divers powers of the soul, and of those instruments it hath in regard of the Animal and Vital parts, as of the brain, heart, head, and other external members of the body, so now we are to consider of the internal instruments, which serve the natural powers of the soul. The instruments of the natural powers of the soul. And first, it hath the liquors and humours of the body tempered together by a certain Law and reason of the Creator that created them. Secondly, the other instruments of the soul, are those members both external and internal, which are framed and have their several proportion, every one as need requireth, for the office assigned unto them by God their Creator. For before the soul be clothed with the body, these instruments are fashioned and made fit for it by nature in those things wherein it could do nothing of itself. For the soul cannot create her body. But after that God hath created the body for it, and that by his appointment nature hath disposed and fitted the same for the soul, so far forth as is requisite, before it can show what virtue it hath, and settle itself to work in the body, then is she left to do that which she is able to perform by the powers of her presence, and to exercise herself therein, beginning always at the least and basest of her offices, before she apply herself to the chiefest, by displaying her principal powers. For whilst the child is in his mother's belly, the soul practiseth upon it her Vegetative and nourishing virtue by which it is nourished and groweth in greatness, How the soul useth the instruments of the body. as we see the like in plants. And when it is borne, it receiveth beside from the soul the power of moving and of sense, as we see beasts have: and last of all by little and little the soul displayeth her other principal virtues. But to speak of our matter subject, and to handle particularly those instruments of the soul, which she useth in the nourishing and augmenting of the body, we will begin at the Ventricle, commonly called the stomach. Now because this name is used diversly, Of the Ventricle and stomack● we are to note, that the Physicians, who distinguish the parts of the body more exactly and properly, apply this name of stomach more specially to the upper mouth of it, and call the whole by the name of Ventricle, whereof we will speak anon. Oftentimes also they take the stomach for the whole passage and pipe, called Oesophage or the throat: but commonly the whole Ventricle is called by that name. Therefore I will use it indifferently, thereby to apply myself the better to the usual manner of speaking. We are to know then first of all, that amongst all the members serving to nourishment, GOD hath appointed this to be the first, as that which receiveth the meat and drink sent unto it by the throat. And to the end we may the better know the providence of God, in the offices and commodities of this member, I will first speak somewhat of the figure and form thereof, then of the situation of it, Of the figure of the stomach. and last of all, of the substance of it. The figure of it is round and long much like to a bagpipe, as that which is being somewhat larger at the bottom, and arising upward towards the left side, groweth narrower by little and little. For seeing it was to occupy the whole pace that is betwixt the liver and the spleen, it was requisite that it should be long, to the end it might not trouble that place which is assigned unto them, but give them place. Likewise it was requisite that it should be round, both because the round form is most capable, and also because it will not so easily be broken and marred as other forms will be. Unto the stomach is joined this narrow, pipe called Oesophage, to the end it might receive into it thereby, all kinds of meat and drink, as we declared when we spoke of the pipes in the throat, and of meats and drinks. Of the mouths of the stomach. For this cause there are two mouths or doors in the stomach, called Orifices, of which the one is called the higher Orifice or mouth, because it is uppermost, and the other for the same reason is called the lower Orifice. The first is to receive the meat that is sent to the stomach by the Oesophage. And this is that which the Physicians call by the proper name of stomach, as we heard before, although commonly it is called the heart. How the name of the heart is abused. For when we feel any weakness there, or any desire to vomit, we commonly say that we are ill at the heart, or that something lieth upon our heart. But this sense of grief is not at the heart, but in that part of the Ventricle, which is called the uppermost Orifice or stomach, whose seat and place is on the left side near to the backbone. And this Orifice or mouth of the stomach, is a great deal more large than the nethermost, because the meat is oftentimes not well chewed, besides many great and hard morsels that are swallowed now and then. Again, this part is very sensible, The original of appetite. because there is the original and place of appetite, by reason of those nerves of which it is chiefly made, that grow together like unto nets. Hereof we may note this, that the providence of God hath so well provided for all the members and instruments of nourishment, that there is not one of them, but it hath some small sinew to give it sense, whereby it may feel and perceive what humours are hurtful unto it, that by the grief which it receiveth, men may be moved to have recourse to such remedies as are able to relieve it. But to return to our matter, The door of the upper Orifice. we are to know, that the upper Orifice hath the Midriff joined unto it, which is in steed of a door to close and shut it up, that when it is full of meats and drinks, they should not ascend up again by the throat. Concerning the nethermost Orifice it is both by the Greek and Latin Writers called by a name that signifieth a Doorkeeper, Of the lower Orifice. being made to let out the meat concocted in the Ventricle together with the superfluities and excrements. Therefore also it is narrower than the upper Orifice, and compassed about with a certain kernelley flesh, to the end that nothing should pass by which were not well digested before, and that by means of the mouth of it made in the manner of a ring. It is situated on the right side under the hollowness of the liver, a little lower than the other Orifice. But it is not at the very bottom of the Ventricle, but a little higher, to the end the food being retained and kept at the bottom, might be heated and digested there. So that after the stomach hath received into it the meat and drink, both these doors as well above as beneath are shut, that the heat within might be retained and kept close. Of the small strings of the Orifices. For this cause there are certain filaments or small strings, of which some are direct and strait, having in them a marvelous secret virtue of nature to draw unto them: others are overth wart, and pass clean cross the former through certain little corners that lie long-wise. Their office is to close up the upper part from the body of the stomach. Besides, there are other crooked filaments, which through obliqne corners pass alongst the sides of both the other: and these, because they close the whole body of the stomach, have power of retaining, and serve to shut up the mouth of the stomach. So that these filaments or threads in regard of their office, may be compared to the strings of a purse whereby it is shut. And because the stomach, being closed and shut up, digesteth the meat a great deal better than if it were gaping and wide open, therefore nature hath provided in this sort. The stomach compared to a pot on the fire. Wherein we see it resembleth a pot set to seething, which retaineth the heat, and seetheth that which it containeth better when it is close covered, then when it is without a cover. Now we are further to know, that the stomach is made of two coats or skins one within an other, consisting partly of a fleshy, and partly of a sinewy substance. The innermost is fuller of sinews and thicker, having strait filaments within, wherewith as it were with fingers, it draweth the meat downward: and without, it hath certain obliqne filaments, which compass it about, and serve to hold it in. The outward coat, which is more fleshy, hath overthwart filaments that serve for expulsion. For when the stomach is sometime overcharged with meat, so that it is not able to embrace and keep it for digestion, then by means of the expulsive virtue, it driveth out that which is superfluous, and provoketh a man to vomit, to the end it be not stifled through the weight and burden of the meat it beareth. For this cause the throat is a pipe appointed for the moving of things up and down, not having any attractive force in it, but being only a mere way and place of passage, through which meats and drinks pass to and fro as need requireth. Concerning the seat of the stomach, How the stomach is placed. it is placed in the midst of the body between the liver and the spleen, and that in such sort that the liver embraceth and warmeth it on the right side, and the spleen doth the like on the left side. Of the substance of it. As for the substance of it, it is of the nature of sinews, that is cold and dry. For it is very convenient it should be so, first, because of the sense and feeling, that it might be incited by such things as agree with it, rejecting all others: secondly, in regard of appetite, that it might be the greater and of more efficacy. Moreover, it was requisite that it should be of such matter, to the end it might be the harder, and receive the less hurt from the hardness and sharpness of meats. How it is warmed by other neighbour parts. And besides the natural heat which it hath of itself, it is heated also by the neighbour parts, to the end it may the better perform that duty that lieth upon it. For this cause it hath on the right side the liver, which is unto it in stead of a boiling pot or cauldron: and on the left side it hath the spleen for the same purpose: the muscles of the chine bone are behind it, and before is the skin commonly called the Kell. Likewise as the heart is not far from it, so the midriff lying over it, doth greatly heat it by continual motion. Whereby we see, how the providence of God hath well fenced and clothed it on all sides, that it might have as much heat as is needful for it. Touching this skin called the Kell, Of 〈◊〉 Kell or Kall. it is a double coat or covering, spreading itself wholly over the entrails, being in fashion like to a purse, by reason that it is double and woven like to a net, consisting of fat, of veins, of atteries and of a skin. Moreover, the stomach is warmed by the spirits that enter into it in great abundance, by reason that it is knit unto the neighbour parts by veins and arteries. The causes of appetite in the stomach. Now because it serveth to the nutritive faculty, the natural virtue thereof is to desire food, the sense and feeling of which appetite is in the upper Orifice, into which many sinews are woven that come down from the brain. Therefore when the members of the body being empty desire nourishment, and labour to draw it from the veins, and the veins from the liver, and the liver from the stomach, and the stomach from the Orifice, then is there a certain contraction and wrinkling as it were of the Orifice, by reason of the veins that suck it. In which contraction and gathering together of the stomaches mouth, there is by means of the nerves a kind of sense and grief, The original of hunger. which we call Hunger, whereby living creatures are stirred up to seek after food and nourishment. I make no repetition here of that which hath been spoken before, namely, of the drawing, retaining, altering, and expulsing virtues of the vegetative soul. For by our discourses we may easily understand, how every one of them doth his duty both in the stomach and liver, and in all the other members of the body. But the altering virtue is the chiefest, whose office is to change in the stomach, and to convert into juice and liquor, that meat which it hath received. This liquor is called by the Physicians Chylus, which is a Greek word, and resembleth the reme of a ptisame: it is concocted in the stomach, until it be so well prepared that it may be sent unto the liver. Which concoction is first and principally made by the natural virtue of the stomach, as it appeareth in this that every stomach doth after a wonderful manner embrace and warm all the meat, which it receiveth, The stomach compared to a womb. even as the whole womb embraceth her burden and fruit until it come to ripeness: and when the time of birth is come, the expulsive virtue thereof driveth it forth. So fareth it with the meat in the stomach, excepting this difference, that the stomach needeth not so long a time to finish his work in, as the womb doth. Afterward this natural virtue of the stomach, is helped and warmed by those means before declared. And when the stomach hath finished this first concoction, The office of the lower Orifice. whereby the meat received is so duly prepared that it may be sent into the liver, than the lower Orifice and door called the Porter, openeth itself, and sendeth this liquor into the entrails and bowels, which are ordained as well to receive it, as to purge forth the superfluities and excrements. Therefore, AMANA. thy speech shall be of these, that so we may go forward with our matter of those instruments of the vegetative soul, which she useth in her natural works. Of the entrails and bowels, and of their names and offices: of the nature of the three smaller guts, and of the other three that are greater: of the instructions which we may learn by these things. Chap. 62. AMANA, If there were no other reason but this, that the poorest and basest persons amongst men are the creatures of GOD, and created after his image and likeness, as well as the richest, mightiest, and highest in dignities and honours, and that as well the one as the other, are members of the body of mankind, it were enough to withhold us from contemning any person, The poorer sort are not to be contemned. of what condition, estate or quality soever he be, so that his vocation be of GOD, and profitable for mankind. For in contemning any creature and his estate, GOD, who created him and ordained his vocation, is contemned and injuried thereby, considering that he is his work, which cannot be mocked, but the workmaster that framed it must needs be scorned. Besides, we are to consider, that many of them that are taken to be the vilest and basest persons, are a great deal more profitable and necessary, and so likewise their callings and offices, than many others that are in greater reputation, and more honourable according to man's judgement, who notwithstanding might more easily be spared, than those of whom there is less account and reckoning made. The like may be said of the use of the members of our bodies, and of the necessity and need which we have of them that are accounted most vile and abject: which albeit they be less honourable than the rest, yet are they more necessary for this life of ours, than many others that are a great deal more noble and more excellent. For we may live without eyes, The necessity of the bowels. without ears, without hands, without feet, and without many other goodly members: but not without the entrails and bowels, which are but the sinks and wide-draughts of our bodies, although there be but one of them only wanting. For there is not one of them but it is profitable, yea necessary for us, insomuch that no other can do that office which lieth upon it: the Lord having so disposed it, that every one of them must discharge his own office by himself. Of these entrails and guts there are six in number, The number and names of the guts. near unto the stomach, namely, three small and three great ones, being all of a round and hollow figure, according to the greatness and thickness of every one of them. They are called the instruments of distribution and purgation, because they distribute the food, and send forth the superfluities and excrements. Now to contain all these in their place, they are covered and wrapped about together with the other entrails of the natural parts, with two coats or coverings, The bowels have two coverings. namely, with that which is called the Kell, whereof mention was made in the former discourse, and which covereth the bowels, stretching itself even to the privy parts: so that it executeth the same office unto them, that it doth unto the stomach, as we were given to understand. Besides, there is an other coat or skin called Peritone, Of the Peritone or inner ●ine of the belly joined to the kall. because it is spread round about the lower belly, and environeth the stomach, the bowels, the kall, the liver, the spleen, and the kidneys: in a word, it covereth all the members from the midriff down to the sharebone. The use of this is great. For first it serveth for a covering to cover all the members: than it serveth also for the muscles that are laid upon them. Moreover, it causeth the superfluities of dry meats to descend more speedily. Fourthly, it keepeth the stomach and bowels that they swell not easily: The uses of it. and fifthly, it knitteth together and conjoineth all the members within it, as we have seen how the other parts of the body are separated and clothed with skins and membranes. For this cause it is framed and fashioned like to an egg, and hath his beginning from the ligaments, which bind together the turning joints of the reins, and is knit unto them. So that the use of it is to tie and knit unto the back the members of the inferior belly. Now concerning the entrails and bowels, although they ●e united to the stomach, and so jointly follow each other, yet they ●iffer in figure, in situation, and in offices. True it is, that their substance differeth little from that of the stomach. The substance of the bowels. For they are of a certain whitish flesh, having no blood in any of them: neither is there any other difference, but only in this, that the bigger guts are more full and fat, The bowels are made of two coats. and the smaller are otherwise. Again, they have all this in common together, that they are made of two coats, which God hath given them for the greater preservation of them, and of the life of living creatures. For oftentimes ulcers and sores breed, chiefly when some great inflammation hath gone before, so that they putrify and fret, and one of the coats be spoiled. Nevertheless a man may live by the other that continueth sound, and dischargeth well enough all his duties. Now forasmuch as they are instruments appointed for the purging of the body, the fibres or little strings both of the inner and utter coats, are all in a manner cross-wise, except some few intermingled long-wise, to the end that the purging might be moderated in such sort, Of the three 〈◊〉 gut●. as that it neither be too much nor too little. The three smaller are placed uppermost, which because they were made that the meat being turned into liquor might be conveyed through them, therefore it was requisite they should be so slender, and that chiefly for two causes. The first, to the end the passage might be more easy: the other, because that in the very passage some concoction is made of the liquor and food: so that they are the sooner warmed, by reason of their slender and thin making. Of their names. Now concerning the name and peculiar office of every one: The Duodene or stomach gut. the first is called Duodene; because of the length of it, which is without any folding or turning. It is as it were a part of the stomach hanging down, or as a changing of the stomach into a gut, being twelve fingers long, whereupon it was so called by the ancient Physicians, although now there is none found of that length. It beginneth at the porter of the stomach, and is so seated beside the liver, that look where that leaveth, and the other following (called the hungry gut) beginneth, there is a passage from the bladder of gall, to bring the yellow humour thither called choler, to the end it might help forward the meat, and make clean the gut. The second, The hungry gut. called the hungry gut, is so termed, because it holdeth but a little food in regard of the other following, so that it may be said after a sort to fast: whereof there are three causes. The first is, the great number of meseraical veins and arteries, which are in greater number about that gut then about the rest. Whereupon they suck out more speedily the liquor and food which passeth through that, then if they were fewer in number. The second cause is, because the liver, which is nearest to that gut, doth likewise draw nourishment from it, which is sooner done then from the rest that are farther off. The third is, the falling down of the choleric humour into it, which intermeddleth not itself with the liquor and food, but glideth down by the side of this gut unto that which is called Colon, to the end it may thrust forward the excrements and purge the humours: which it performeth because it is sharp and biting. Now by reason it continually provoketh this gut to expulsion, it falleth out to be more empty than the residue. Then followeth the third small intralle, The Ileon or folded Gut. called Ileos by the Grecians, both because it hath many fold, as also for the manifold knitting of it to the Mesenterium from whence sundry veins come into this. The hungry gut and this have both one office: only herein they differ, that the hungry Gut is sooner sucked then this, which retaineth a longer time, that liquor and food that it receiveth. For this cause it is of a greater length, and hath more foldings and turnings, to the end it may the better concoct the liquor, and be tempering with the food the longer time: whereby it shall not need to be filled, and stuffed presently with other meats. And herein we have to note the good forecast of nature. For if we were presently to return again to the Table after we had taken our meat, we should do nothing all our life time but eat and drink. Therefore some of the ancient Philosophers have in this respect acknowledged the providence of GOD, saying that these foldings, plights, and windings were made to this end, that men might not live ignorantly as beasts that are destitute of all knowledge: which would follow undoubtedly, if they were of necessity to attend always upon the belly. Now let us speak of the other three great Guts, which follow the small ones. Of the three great Guts. These than are lower, more fleshy and thick, because their chief office is to receive the excrements of the above named Guts, and to retain the same until the just time come to send them forth: even as it is the office of the three former to distribute the liquor and food by the meseraical veins. The first of these great ones is called the Blind Gut, The blind Gut. because that being large and great, it hath but one way, both to receive in, and to let out the matter received: whereupon it is commonly called by some the Sack or Budget Gut. His office is to receive the excrements from the last lesser Gut, and having drawn out some nourishment from them to cast forth the rest to the other Gut called Colon. For this cause the doors and holes of these three last Guts, concur well together in a hollow place. Now because this blind Gut is wide and round, and hath many foldings, among other things it standeth in stead of an other stomach, to keep and to preserve meat in it against some want and necessity to come, The fift gut called Colon, or the great gut. and to distribute it to the neighbour-members after a long hunger. Whereunto the Gut called Colon doth also help, both by reason of the capacity of it, as for the obliqne situation thereof, as also because it keepeth within it food and nourishment. Concerning the name of it, the Greek word from whence it is taken signifieth Gain, because it is greater and more capable than any of the rest: or else it may signify as a man would say, Cut, because it is as it were cut into sundry holes, and hath divers turnings. For it receiveth the excrements, and to the end they should not pass away by and by, it sendeth them by little and little through strait passages. The choleric humour descendeth out of the hungry Gut into this, whereby the dirt is both coloured and driven forth. Of this Gut called Colon, The colic and Ileacke passions. the Colike passion taketh the name: as the Ileaca passion doth of the Gut Ileon. Now because this Gut is puffed up more than any of the rest, and is very painful to them that have it stopped, it hath certain strait threads woven amongst the overthwart Fibres, which strengthen the coats and skins thereof, to the end they should not break or crack, when they are blown up and strained. Whereby we see again how the counsel of God's providence hath notably provided for all things, whose excellent majesty hath not despised these most base, earthly, and brute parts. Now it remaineth that we should consider of the third Gut, The strait gut. called the Strait Gut. For although it proceed from the Gut Colon, yet it differeth from it both in place and figure, and is called the Strait Gut because of the straightness of it. Some call it the Fat Gut, because it is passing fat in beasts. It reacheth unto the very fundament, at the end whereof is placed a muscle, being fashioned round like to a Ring, to keep in, and to retain ventosity and excrements until Nature please: to this end that expulsion of them might not be made upon every occasion, and in every place indifferently, against our wills, and contrary to natural and civil honesty. The use of it. For the use of the strait Gut is to carry and throw forth clean out of the body the filth, dregs, and grossest excrements thereof, being such as are altogether unprofitable, and hurtful to the body. Now forasmuch as it is the lowest gut and most burdened, by reason that it must hold all the gross excrements of whatsoever entereth into the body by the mouth, and is oftentimes very much blown and stretched up, therefore the divine providence hath given unto it more threads and fibres of all sorts then to any of the rest, and hath made it strong and able to bear the charge. So likewise his heavenly counsel hath provided, that amongst all the members of the body, those should be strongest, that have the greatest burden and stress to bear. And for this cause also this strait gut hath this muscle, which the Physicians call Sphincter, Of the muscle Sphincter. being taken from a Greek word that signifieth to restrain and close up, because it is an instrument of voluntary motion, that openeth and shutteth as we will, when need requireth. Now for the end of this speech, if we consider well of those parts whereof we have spoken, we shall find that we carry about with us sundry sorts of sinks, which are oftentimes ill-favouredly looked unto. And this aught to put us in mind of our infirmities and of those goodly shops we have in our bodies full of stinking drugs, A lesson against pride. which ought to take from us all matter of pride. Moreover we may learn here, that which was spoken of in the beginning of this discourse, namely, the use of these members, and the necessity of the basest and less comely parts. Therefore if there were no other respect to be had but this of necessity, we ought to be so far from despising them, especially the workmaster that hath made and disposed them, as that we ought rather thereby to acknowledge his great providence, and the care he hath had of us, seeing it hath pleased him even from the high degree of his majesty, to provide for the least and last necessities and infirmities of our bodies. Against the contempt of inferior persons. So likewise by admiring his so great bounty and goodness towards us, we have good occasion by his example, to do the like one towards an other, in the performance of all duties appertaining to a holy and true friendship. Now that we may prosecute our matter subject, let us look into the other natural powers of the soul. First let us consider of the Mesentery, of the meseraical veins; of the sweet bread, of the liver, and of their natures and offices. The handling of these things belong to thee, ARAM. Of the Mesentery and mesaraeum: of the meseraical veins, of the Pancreas or sweet bread, and of their nature and office: of the liver, and of his nature and office: of the roots, bodies, and branches of the veins, of their names and uses, and of the similitude between them and the arteries. Chap. 63. ARAM. When we consider how the providence of God reacheth so far unto those things that are profitable & necessary in our bodies, that it forgetteth not, neither omitteth the least thing that is in them: we should be very blind of understanding, if we doubted that our God provided not aswell for all things that are profitable and necessary for our souls, for the spiritual food and growth of them, and for their perfect purging and salvation. For albeit there is no superfluity or excrement, in that spiritual food wherewith the soul is nourished, yet is it requisite and needful, that the soul be purged from those excrements and filthiness of sin, wherewith the devil hath infected & filled it. And so indeed is it purged in jesus Christ, who hath washed & cleansed us from our sins by his blood, & doth daily purge us by his holy spirit, and by those means which he hath ordained in his church. Therefore I am out of doubt, that God meant to put men in mind of these things, by the order & necessity which he hath appointed in the nature of their bodies, both in regard of their food and of their nourishment: and that we shall always find good and holy instructions for the soul, by considering the nature and office of every part of the body. Let us then consider of other instruments of the natural powers of the soul, then hitherto we have spoken of. After the entrails & guts, Of the Mesentery. the Mesentery followeth, which is placed in the midst of them, whereupon it is so called of the Grecians, as if you would say, dwelling in the midst of the guts. And because it is carried and lift up into the middle of all these vessels, Of the mesaraeum. it is also called by some mesaraeum, which name signifieth the self same thing in Greek. Others take mesaraeum to be the highest part of the Mesentery, which is also called Calicreas by the Grecians, because the flesh of it is very pleasant to eat, according as the name giveth us to understand. So that it is no entrall or gut, but a coat and folded covering in the midst of them: or rather a thick white flesh, of a sinewy and kernelly substance, that beareth fat, distinguishing the entrails, and knitting them unto the back. The chief use of it. But it was chiefly created to bear up and sustain the meseraical veins and arteries, with the sinews that are in that member: which because they are in danger of breaking, through the vehement motions of the body & such other accidents, therefore the providence of God would not have them without a foundation, prop, and defence to countergard them. For this cause he hath fortified and fastened the branches and divisions of the veins, by such a member and instrument, which serveth in stead of a band and stay both to the great and little ones. Other uses of the Mesentery. Besides, his action and use also is to fasten and keep the entrails every one in his place, and to convey unto the liver by the meseraical veins, that are called the hands thereof, that liquor which the Grecians call Chylus, of which we have already spoken. For as the bodies of trees have their roots, which spread abroad in the earth to draw nourishment from thence: even so there are branches dispersed throughout the Mesentery, and derived from the liver vein, which are joined to the bowels, as it were small roots to draw food, Of the meseraical veins. being much like to hairs or cobwebs. These branches or small roots are the meseraical veins, so called, because they are placed in the upper part of that member and instrument that is called mesaraeum, Their use. whereof I spoke even now. Their office and nature is to draw and suck out nourishment from the guts, and to carry it to the liver, from whence they have all their beginning, as appeareth by Anatomy: howsoever there are that think, that some of them come not from thence. The flesh of the Mesentery is kernelly and fatty, not only serving in stead of a munition and defence, as hath been said, but also to moisten the entrails and guts, and to preserve the heat both of the bowels and veins. So likewise the arteries are joined to the veins, to give them heat, and to the guts also to concoct the liquor and nourishment. Besides, the nerves and sinews there, serve to give sense to the guts. There is moreover a kernelly flesh, which the Physicians call Pancreas, Of the Pancreas or sweet bread. because it doth wholly resemble flesh, as the Greek name importeth. It is placed in the hollow part of the liver, that it might be as it were a cushion unto it, and a preserver of the divided parts thereof, by filling the void places that are between the stomach, The uses of it. the liver and the spleen, to the end it may uphold and protect the meseraical veins, and keep every thing from breaking either by falls or by violent motions. Now touching the liver, it is a very noble member. Of the liver and excellency thereof. For it is the principallest member of all the natural parts, and the chiefest instrument belonging to the vegetative and nourishing power of the soul. It is the first of the nobler parts that is made perfect, when the child is framed in the mother's womb: it is the author, shop, and forge of the blood, the original and fountain of the veins. Therefore the substance of it is a soft and red flesh, like to blood newly pressed out & clodded. Nevertheless in it own nature it is perfect flesh, having sundry, different veins dispersed throughout as it were threads, & arteries also joined unto them for their refreshing. The second coction is made in the liver. Now after the stomach hath finished the first concoction of meat, and turned it into liquor as it hath been declared unto us, the second is made in the liver, after it hath received this liquor so prepared by the stomach and guts as we said, and turned it into blood. This concoction is perfected in the small veins, that are dispersed throughout the body of the liver. And because God hath enjoined this office to this member, he hath compounded it of such a flesh & matter, as hath given unto it this proper and peculiar virtue, to convert into blood that food and nourishment that is brought unto it, to the end it may be the instrument of the generation of that thing wherewith the body is nourished. Having thus transformed the liquor received, it maketh it red like unto itself: as contrariwise, blood is made white in the breasts of a woman, both by reason of their nature and substance, as also for other causes touched by us. The temperature of the liver is hot and moist, such as becometh the blood and concoction it hath to perform, which is like to boiled meat. Now forasmuch as this instrument and member is the chiefest in the kitchen of man's body, GOD hath given unto it such a nature and property, as if there were in it a hearth, Four degrees of concoction in the liver. a table, a knife, and a waggoner, as some name them, having regard to the diverse actions thereof, and to the sundry degrees of concoction made therein. They call the first action or degree of concoction by the name of a hearth, because it serveth to heat the food, as a hearth doth in a kitchen. The second is called a table, namely, when the food beginneth to gather itself together in the liver, and is there placed as it were upon a table to be sent unto the members. The third action hath the name of a knife given unto it, because it divideth & maketh a separation of the humours. And the fourth is as it were the waggoner, because there is the carriage and conveyance of all from thence into the hollow vein. For the natural virtues and powers govern the humours very well, conducting and leading them to their due places. The fountains of the blood and veins, spirits, and arteries. For this cause the liver is the fountain of blood, and the spring of all the veins by which it is distributed throughout the body as the heart is the fountain of the vital spirits, & the original of the arteries, whereby the spirits necessary for the body are conveyed into it, as the blood from the liver. Wherefore even as the arteries are a kind of veins to carry and to distribute the air, breath, and vital spirits: so likewise the veins proceeding from the liver, are ordained to distribute the blood into all parts of the body. These two are linked together with such a near alliance and agreement, that the veins administer matter to the vital spirit, which is engendered in the heart of the purest and most spiritual blood, as the spirit likewise helpeth the blood by his heat in the arteries. Therefore they have mouths joining each to other, to the end the spirit, as it were a little flame, may receive nourishment out of the veins, and that the veins may draw spirit & heat from the arteries. Our life compared to a lamp. For as we have already touched, our life is much like to a flame in a lamp, that receiveth food from the oil put into the lamp: even so the vital spirit, which is as a flame within us, draweth & taketh nourishment from the veins. Wherein we have a goodly example of that mutual society, which we ought to have one towards another in this life. Now of those veins that derive their original from the liver, Two great veins in the body. there are 2. principal ones that are very great, of which the others are but as it were branches, that from the liver spread themselves upwards & downwards through all the parts of the body. These two veins coming out of the liver take their beginning from many little veins, which being as it were their roots, join together afterward into two trunks or great bodies, that divide themselves again into divers boughs & branches, whereof some are greater and some lesser, after the manner of trees. The first is called the Port-veine, The Port-veine. because it is as it were the door of the liver out of which it proceedeth, being placed in the hollow part thereof. The use and profit of it is to receive nourishment prepared by the stomach and guts, & then to keep it until the liver hath turned it into pure blood, for to send it afterward to all the body by the other great vein called the Cave or hollow vein. The hollow vein. And this proceedeth from the outside of the liver, resembling the body of a tree, and dividing itself into two great branches, of which the lesser ascendeth up to the vital and animal parts, and to the ends of them, and the bigger branch descendeth down alongst the hinder part of the liver, upon that part of the chine bone that is between the kidneys, and so goeth to those parts that are contained under them. Forasmuch therefore as the arteries and veins are the principal instruments, whereby the soul giveth life unto the body, some learned men expound that of the vital and natural parts, Eccles. 12. 6. which Solomon speaketh of the silver chord not lengthened, of the golden ewer broken, of the pitcher broken at the well, and of the wheel broken at the cistern. We have already spoken of the silver chain and of the golden ewer, when we discoursed of the chine bone of the back, and of the marrow of it. A place of Solomon expounded. Touching the residue, they understand by the well the liver, which is the fountain of blood: and by the pitcher, the veins, because they are the vessels whereby the blood is taken out of the liver and drawn thence, that it may be distributed to all the body: and by the cistern is understood the heart, and by the wheel, the head. For we may already perceive by that which we have already said of the heart, how serviceable the liver is unto it, considering that the heart is the fountain of the vital spirits and the original of the arteries, (as the liver is of the blood and of the veins) and that the vital spirits are engendered in the heart of the purest and most spiritual blood, which it draweth and receiveth from the liver. Moreover, these vital spirits are by mean of the heart sent unto the brain and the head, to serve the animal powers that have their places and instruments there, and to serve all the senses as well spiritual as corporal. Therefore the head is aptly compared to a wheel, both for the roundness of it, as also because it draweth and receiveth the vital spirits from the heart, which sendeth them unto it, as the water is drawn from his fountain, well, or cistern by means of the wheel. Further, as it is needful, that there should be a chord to reach from the wheel down to the well, and a pitcher or bucket at the end of the chord to draw water withal: so the arteries reaching from the heart up to the head, are like to the cord and pitcher, whereby the brain draweth vital spirits from the heart. For the great artery, Of the artery Aorta. called Aorta by the Physicians, which cometh out of the heart, and is divided into two great branches, of which the one goeth upward, to carry the vital spirit to the superior parts, and the other downward to do the like below, forasmuch as it joineth unto the heart, may be taken for the pitcher that draweth from thence the vital spirits, as from a well; and the branch that ascendeth upward may be taken for the chord joined unto the wheel. The like may be seen in the liver. For the great veins of it are as it were the pitcher, and the veins that ascend up unto the head, as likewise the arteries, are the cord that draweth up the blood from out of the liver. If then we join that which we have already heard of the silver chain or cord, and of the golden ewer, with that which we speak now of the pitcher and of the well, of the wheel, and of the cistern, we may be well assured, that Solomon hath most wisely comprehended in so small a number of words, all the internal parts of the body, and all the powers both animal, vital, and natural, together with all the instruments, which they have in the body and in the members thereof. For first behold, the brain signified by the golden ewer: then the pith of the chine bone and the chine bone itself by the silver chord: vexed, the liver by the well, which hath also his pitcher: and lastly, the heart which is signified by the cistern. As for that particularly spoken of the pitcher and wheel broken, which draw water out of the well and cistern, it is all one as if he had said, that when the fountain of blood in the liver waxeth dry and decayeth, the wheel above, namely, the head, is broken, because all the senses both exterior and interior, and the animal virtues fail in the body. For the soul wanteth sound instruments to give life, motion, and sense unto it, they being worn & consumed by those means and causes, which we shall understand hereafter. But to follow our purpose, and not to departed from the matter, we must entreat of the nature of blood, and of other humours in the body, & of their diversity and nature. This then, ACHITOB, shall be the matter subject of thy discourse. Of the blood and of other humours in the body: of their diversity and nature, & of the agreement they have with the elements: of the similitude that is between the great garden of this great world, and that of the little world, touching the nourishment of things contained and preserved in them. Chap. 64. ACHITOB. If in many of our discourses we saw great testimonies of the image of the great world in man, the matter we have now to handle will set before our eyes such as are most clear and evident. A similitude. For look how the sea is as it were the great fountain and womb of all waters, and of the floods & rivers that issue out of them to water the whole earth: so likewise the liver is as it were the fountain of the blood and veins, which are like to brooks and rivers, to carry & distribute the blood throughout the whole body, to the end that all the parts of it might be moistened, soaked, and nourished according to their several natures. So that the liver in man's body, & in man, who is the little world, is as the sea in the great world, and the veins are like to the floods & rivers. Neither are the parts of the body by this means moistened, watered, and nourished with blood only, but also with all the other humours, wherewith it is tempered, and without which the body cannot live. For the blood carrieth all the rest with it. But that we may the better understand this matter, and what is the proper nature of blood, we must first know what a humour is, & how many kinds of it there are. We understand by a Humour, What a humour is. a liquid & running body into which the food is converted in the liver, to this end that bodies might be nourished and preserved by them. And as there are four elements of which our bodies are compounded, so there are four sorts of humours answerable to their natures, being all mingled together with the blood: as we may see by experience in blood let out of one's body. For uppermost we see as it were a little skim like to the flower or working of new wine, or of other wine when it is powered forth. Next, we may see as it were small streams of water mingled with the blood. And in the bottom is seen a blacker and thicker humour, like to the lees of wine in a wine vessel. So that if we know how to consider wisely of these things, it will be easy for us to understand the distinction of these sundry humours, Of the nature of blood. and their nature. Now concerning the first of them, we are to know that the proper nature of blood is to be hot and moist: wherein it answereth to the nature of the air. It is temperate, sweet, and fatty, as also the best and chiefest part of nourishment. For albeit all the other humours do nourish likewise, and are carried of the blood, nevertheless that humour which is properly called blood, is the chiefest part of nourishment. For it is requisite that nourishment should be sweet, or at leastwise tempered with sweet liquor. Next, Of the choleric humour. that thin skim which is seen on the top of it, resembling the flower of wine, is that humour that is called yellow choler, or the choleric humour which is hot and dry, of a bitter taste, and answering to the nature of fire, which is of the same nature. For it is bred of the hottest and driest parts of that liquor, in which the nourishment of the body consisteth, when through their great heat they boil together. Of the phlegmatic humour. Moreover, those small streams of water, which we see mingled in the blood, proceed of the phlegmatic humour that is cold and moist, like to water of whose nature it holdeth. For this humour is in part concocted for the turning of it into blood, but not wholly perfected. Hereof it cometh that the colour of it remaineth white, much like to water, and without taste, or as some affirm, it is some what brackish, Of the melancholic humour. but not fatty. Lastly, the black humour and most earthy which looketh like the very bottom of a deep, red, and thick wine, or like the lees in a vessel full of wine or oil, is the melancholic humour, or as some term it, black choler, being cold and dry like to the earth, with which it hath some agreement, and of taste somewhat sharp. Now in this diversity of these humours mingled altogether with the blood, The agreement betwixt the humours and the elements. two things are worthy to be well marked. First, the agreement and conformity which they have with all the elements of which the body of man is compounded: so that each of them hath his proper element agreeable to his nature, to the end they may nourish and preserve all the parts of the body, according to the nature of the elements of which they hold. The other point is, not only the disagreement, but even the manifest contrariety that is between all these humours, as there is betwixt the elements: & again the union that appears to be between them in the midst of this contrariety, as the like is among the elements, whose nature they follow. Moreover we see, that between light and darkness, day and night, cold and heat, dryness, and moisture, between the diverse and contrary seasons of the year, besides sundry other such contrarieties that are in nature, & in all other things, I say between these so contrary, God frameth notwithstanding such a wonderful concord, tempering and knitting them in such sort one with an other, that they are so far from defacing and destroying each other, as contrariwise they could not possibly be preserved, except they were tied together with such a knot and conjunction. Now beside that which we have here spoken of the nature of these humours, we have further to note, that they do not only agree with the elements in qualities, but also in regard of their places in man's body, I mean in the whole mass and distribution of the blood, and in the conjunction they have together, even as the elements have their places each after other. How the humours and elements agree in places. For as the fire of it own nature is light, and therefore laboureth always to ascend upward, to attain to his natural place: so the choleric humour, which agreeth with the nature thereof, occupieth the highest place among the humours mingled with the blood, as we may perceive by that that hath been already spoken of the flower and skim of blood, according to that comparison which we made betwixt blood and wine. The like may be said of the rest. For as the air is lightest next to the fire, and the nearest element unto it and to the rest of the celestial fires: so the blood properly so called, keepeth the place of the air among the humours of the body. For it is not so light as the fire, nor so heavy as the water or the earth. And so consequently the phlegmatic and melancholic humours occupy the lower places according to their degrees, as the water and the earth do in this great world. For this cause all these humours besides their common offices and effects, have others more special agreeable to their nature, as (God willing) we will declare hereafter. And namely, the phlegmatic humour that holdeth of the nature of the water, is to be considered of. For as in this great visible world, there are waters both above and beneath, I mean those that are contained and retained within the clouds in the air, & those that are in the sea & in rivers, kept within their bounds assigned them for their course: so the like is to be found in the little world, which is man. Now hitherto have we learned, how the water and the other humours are carried with the blood throughout the body, aswell upward as downward, by means of the veins which water all the parts of it, how high or low soever they be, and therewithal carry unto them their food and nourishment. And this agreeth fitly to the wonderful work of GOD'S providence in nature, Agreement betwixt the great garden of the world, and that of the little world. which, of the vapours arising out of the earth, gathereth the clouds together, and these like to sponges suck up vapours from the waters of which themselves are engendered, and which afterward they carry about (as it were in chariots) to distribute them into all quarters of the world, according as it shall please God to dispose of them, by sending his blessing upon the earth by the means of rain, wherewith being watered, it nourisheth all those herbs, trees, plants, and fruits which it bringeth forth, not only for the sustenance of men, A goodly contemplation in nature. but also of beasts. Let us then imagine before us a garden wherein is infinite variety of trees and plants of all sorts, and that this garden is watered either by rain from heaven, or by pipes and conduits whereby the water is brought thither and dispersed in all places thereof. We shall see that in this great diversity of nature, there is but one and the same nourishment for them all, and but one place. And albeit the liquor that affordeth this nourishment to so many sorts of plants be but one, nevertheless it is converted into the nature of all those things which it nourisheth, so that the nature of it is changed according to the distinct property of each of them. For there are plants and herbs of all qualities, and of all tastes and colours. Some are hot, others cold, some dry, others moist, either in the first, or second or third or fourth degree, or else are tempered and intermingled according to their several natures. As for their tastes, some are sweet, others sharp, or bitter, or of no certain taste. In a word, there are of all kinds of tastes, both simple and compound. And yet the humour or liquor is but one that receiveth all these qualities, as in wormwood it becometh bitter, and in the Vine or Figtree sweet. And if the herbs be either for food, or for physic, or of a poisonful nature, the same may be said of the humour that nourisheth them. The like is seen also in colours. Neither do we observe all this by experience only in some great diversity of trees, and of all sorts of plants, but even in each of them severally. For I pray you what difference is there in every herb, or in every several tree, I mean between the root and the stalk, the body and the branches, the boughs and the leaves, the flowers, seeds and fruits? And yet all these sundry parts receive nourishment from one Mother, and from one and the same substance and liquor. Of the heart of plants. Moreover we see, that as man and all other living creatures have their heart in the midst of their bodies, which is the fountain of life, so all trees, herbs and plants have their heart in the midst of them according to their nature, without which they could not live. For we call their heart the inward part, within which their pith remaineth, which is unto them as the heart is to living and sensible creaatures. Whereupon we have further to note in regard of those herbs that have weak stalks, especially hollow ones, or such as have straws instead of stalks, that the providence of God hath given unto them knots, severed as it were into sundry small knees which are unto them in place of their stomach, and of other nutritive members to retain their nourishment the longer, & to concoct it the better, as also to strengthen them thereby. And this we may evidently see in all sorts of corn and pulse. Even so doth nature, or rather the prince thereof work in a man's body, The body of man compared to a garden. which is as it were a garden that hath a soul. Wherein the Creator of this whole frame showeth himself no less wonderful, nay rather much more than in this great garden of the whole earth, and of the great world, of both which he is the Gardener that watereth them, to nourish all the fruits they bring forth, & to cause them to grow. For from whence proceed, or are nourished the bones, gristles, ligaments, sinews, arteries, veins, flesh, kernels, fat, together with all the other parts of which the body is compounded? May not the like be said of the eyes & of their coats and humours, of the ears, nose, tongue, teeth, belly, stomach, guts, liver, spleen, kidneys, & of all the other bowls and inward parts? And if we come to the hands and feet, and to the other outward members, & to all the other parts called Instrumental, & distinguished according to their office, we shall find that only through the alteration of their food into liquor, they all receive such nourishment as is proper to each of them. Yet notwithstanding one and the same sustenance is offered to so many sundry members, being made familiar and of the same nature with that part unto which it is joined. For if it go to the eyes, it becometh of the same temperament, that the nerves and spirits belonging to the sight are of, which bring the faculty and virtue of seeing unto the eyes: as likewise it is of the same temperament with the coats and humours of which the eyes are compounded, being divided and distributed to each sundry part by a natural property inherent in them. The like is done in the ears and in other members and instruments of the corporal senses, and in all the other parts of the body, even to the very nails and hairs thereof. Wherein truly we see wonderful alterations, and a most admirable work of God's providence, whether it be considered in the whole earth, and in this great world, or in man, who is the little world. Now for the sequel of our speech, before we come to speak of the special offices and effects of the three humours joined with the blood, of which we have here spoken, we are to consider beside this distribution made of the nourishment by means of the veins, as it hath been told us, of another mean by which these humours, and especially the phlegmatic, ascend up unto the brain: whereby it cometh to pass that in man, as well as in the great world, there are waters above and below, which are the cause that man's life swimmeth in the midst of a great danger. Man's life in the midst of two waters. Also we are to know why the soul and the blood are often taken each for other, and to be instructed in the temperature of the humours, necessarily belonging to the body for the health and life thereof: as likewise to consider of the causes of health and sickness, and of life and death. But this shall be for to morrow, when thou ASER, shalt undertake the discourse of these things, so far forth as is requisite for us to know. The end of the eight days work. THE NINTH days work. Of the vapours that ascend up to the brain, and of the waters and clouds contained therein, and in what perils men are thereby: why the soul and blood are put one for another: of the temperature of the humours necessary for the health and life of the body: of the causes of health and of diseases, and of life and death. Chap. 65. ASER. It is the saying of an ancient Philosopher, that they which sail upon the water, are not above two or three fingers breadth distant from death: namely so far off as the thickness of the planks and timber of the ship is, in which they are carried into the Sea. For if that timber were taken from under them, they cannot avoid drowning unless they can swim like fishes. But not to sail on the sea, or upon a lake or river to approach near to death, we have it a great deal nearer us, when we carry about us infinite causes and means, whereby we are every hour in danger of stifling, and as it were of drowning, and that both waking & sleeping, eating and drinking, within doors and without, at all times and in all places wheresoever we become. Insomuch that of what estate and disposition soever, men are, we are oftentimes astonished to hear tidings of a man's death, sooner than of his sickness, whom we saw not long before, merry, cheerful and in good health. Now we may learn some chief causes hereof by this days handling of that matter Subject, which was yesterday propounded to be discoursed upon. And first we must know, that besides the distribution of all the humours together with the blood into all parts of the body by the veins, and that for the causes before learned, there is yet another mean whereby these humours, especially the phlegmatic humour, Vapours ascending up to the brain. which is of the nature of the water, ascend up unto the brain, by reason of vapours arising upward out of the stomach, like to the vapour of a pot seething on the fire with liquor in it, and like to vapours that ascend up from the earth into the air, of which rain is engendered. Now when these vapours are come up to the brain, they return to their natural place, and into the nature of those humours of which they were bred, as the vapours that are held in the air turn again into the same nature of water of which they came. Therefore as the waters are contained within the clouds in the region of the air allotted unto them, Watery clouds in the brain. so is it with our brain which is of a cold nature, and of a spongy substance fit for that purpose. So that we always carry within it as it were clouds full of water, and of other humours that distill and run down continually by the members and passages, which God hath appointed to that end, as we have already heard. And these places albeit they serve especially to purge several humours, as hath been told us, yet oftentimes they void them altogether, both by reason of their mingling and conjunction, as of their over great abundance. Yea many times they are so plentiful, namely the phlegmatic humour, that because the brain cannot sufficiently discharge itself of them by the ordinary way, these humours overflow on all sides wheresoever they can find any vent and issue, even as when a thundering cloud bursteth asunder. So that the water runneth not down as it were a mild and gentle rain, but as a mighty flood that bringeth great ruins with it, or as a river passing his ordinary course, breaketh down both bank and wall, and overfloweth every where. Therefore we may well say, that many times we have floods of water enclosed within our heads and brains, when we never think of it, nor yet consider in what danger we are. Which the more secret and unknown it is unto us, the more perilous it is, and greatlier to be feared, especially considering it is so near us, and that we have fewer means to avoid it, as we have daily examples in many, who being in health and merry, are suddenly choked by catarrhs, which like to floods of waters, Inconveniences that come from the brain. run downwards, as the very name derived from the Grecians doth import as much: or by some sudden Apoplexy, how healthy soever before they seemed to be. Others also there are, who if they be not presently choked with such floods from the brain, yet they are taken with palsies, lameness, and impotency in all their members, or at leastwise in some of them, as if some waterflood had carried them away, so that nothing had been saved but the bare life, and that more frail and miserable than death itself. I speak not of gouty persons, who although they be not assaulted with such great and vehement floods of waters, and with evil and superfluous humours, so that some few drops only (of which they are so called) fall upon some parts of them, yet are they greatly tormented & constrained to cry out, and that oftentimes in extreme distress. Which consideration ought to stir us up to know wherein our life and preservation thereof consisteth, and of whom we hold it. And on the other side, although we had no examples of floods and inundations of waters, of earthquakes and such other judgements of God whereby he punisheth men, Instruction for every one. nevertheless these water-floods which we always carry about us, aught to admonish and induce us to fear him, to call upon him by prayer, and day and night, yea hourly, to recommend our life unto him, seeing he can take it from us by stopping our breath, yea by a very small matter: or at least deprive us of all motion and sense, as though our bodies had neither soul nor life in them, but were like to poor dead carcases. For the doing hereof he needeth not to thunder or lighten from heaven against us, but only to cause a small shower of water to power down from our head, which is the highest, the goodliest and most noble part of all the body, and as it were the heaven of the little world: or if it please him to cause a few drops only to distil down upon the sinews and joints, it will torment men more grievously than if they were in some continual torture, as the daily songs of such gouty persons do testify, who are impatient and void of the fear of God. Testimony of the providence of God. Now besides this profitable advertisement, which every one may take by that which hath been here uttered, we ought on the other side to consider the providence and goodness of God towards men, in that as he holdeth up in the air and clouds, the water that hangeth over us, not suffering them to break down upon us all at once to overwhelm all the earth by them, with all the beasts and other creatures contained in it, but distributeth them by good and just measure: so dealeth he with the humours that ascend up continually, and are kept in our brain, where they have their vessels to retain them in, as it were in sponges, which yield forth water according as they are either loosened, or restrained and closed together. And as for that which is said of the testimony which we have of the frailty of our life, appearing in the principal and most noble part of our body, as the like was showed us before in that instruction, which we learned by the office that God assigned to our lungs, and to the passages allotted by him for the taking in end letting out of the air: so we have a very notable lesson in the consideration of the liver and of the blood, of which that is the forge and fountain, and of the distribution thereof into all the parts and members of the body by means of the veins, as we heard yesterday. For as a man may judge by outward appearance that the life of man consisteth in his breath, and that he giveth up both soul and life when he dieth, as it were in giving up the last gasp: so it seemeth also, that it is placed in the blood, as that which goeth as it were with the blood, so that when the blood is drawn out of a man's body, the life also may seem to be drawn out therewithal. Hereupon as the soul is oftentimes in holy Scripture put for the life, because it giveth life to the body, so it is also put for the blood, and the blood likewise called soul, because it is the instrument and means whereby the soul giveth life: and when the Lord forbiddeth his people to case the flesh with his soul, Gen. 9 4, 5. that is the blood thereof. Whereby his meaning is to teach men, to abhor the effusion of man's blood: and therefore he sayeth further, I will require your blood, even the blood of your souls. Wherefore he that sheddeth blood, doth as much as if he drew the soul out of the body. Now forasmuch as the blood is so necessary unto life, we are likewise to understand, that as it is either pure and sound, or unpure and corrupted, so is it disposed either to health or sickness, and to life or death. For as the natural life of man consisteth, especially in heat and moisture, so a man may easily judge, that as every thing is bred by means of them, chiefly living and sensible creatures, so nothing can be preserved in this bodily life without these two qualities, that are proper to the air and to blood, as we have already heard. But these qualities must be so tempered, that there be no excess on either side. And for this cause GOD would have all the humours to be mingled together with the blood, The mixture of the humours necessary. that so it might be tempered as is requisite for the life of man. For if it be too hot and dry, or too moist and cold, it cannot do that office, for the performance whereof it is ordained: but in steed of bringing health and life, it will breed diseases, and in the end cause death. For natural death cometh only of diseases, amongst which old age is to be reckoned, which is an incurable sickness that lasteth until death. Neither do diseases proceed, but only of the distemperature that is in men's bodies, and in the humours of which they are compounded. The causes of health and of sickness. For as long as they are in a good, moderate and proportionable temper, and are distributed to all the parts of the body, according as need requireth, so that none of them exceedeth, then is there an equality in all the body, which doth not only preserve it in life, but in health and good disposition. For there is the like concord and harmony between these humours, that is between the parts of a good consort of music agreeing well together, or of an instrument of music well tuned, from which you shall hear nothing but pleasant melody. Whereas if all the parts thereof agree not well together, there will be no musical harmony, but only a very unpleasant discord. The like may be said of all the concords and discords that may fall out in the humours of our bodies. And therefore GOD had so tempered them in the first creation of man as was requisite, so that he, would have preserved him in a perpetual life, if by true obedience he had always been knit and united unto God his Creator. Sin the cause of all the discord in the world. But since man fell at variance with God through sin, all this goodly concord, which God had placed not only in man's body, but also between the rest of his creatures, hath been troubled and turned into discord by means of sin. So that all this, goodly temperature and harmony of the humours in which man's body was created, was dissolved and broken asunder, and that in such sort that it was never since sound and perfect in any man, of how good constitution soever he hath been. For even in the best complexions there is always some defect or excess in some of the humours: so that if there were no other cause, The causes of death. yet no body could naturally be immortal. For always in the end the excess or defect that is in it, would cause it to decay, and finally bring it to corruption. But besides this, there are so many other wants and superfluities throughout the whole life of man, whereby this evil already become natural, is so much augmented, that there die more without comparison of ordinary, diseases and of violent death, then of old age and natural death: and all this by means of sin. Therefore we may well conclude, that health is the effect and fruit of peace and concord between all the parts and humours of man's body, and so consequently is life: as contrariwise, sickness & death proceed of discord, dissension, and war between them. For as concord bringeth peace, and peace all good things with it, so contrariwise, discord breedeth war, and war a heaped measure of all miseries and evils. Wherefore a sound body of a good constitution is like the body of a whole people and society, that hath the members agreeing well together, so that every one keepeth his rank, not hurting one another. But a sick and diseased body, is like to the body of a mutinous and seditious people, that breaketh the order it ought to keep, A politic instruction. and goeth beyond the appointed bounds. Therefore we have a goodly image of peace, and of that peaceable life whereunto men are created and borne; in the disposition and temperature of the humours and members of our body, whereby we ought to learn what great account we are to make of peace, amity and concord, and how we ought to hate and abhor all war, discord, and dissension, seeing the one is as it were health and life, and the other as diseases and death. Now let us see the use and profit, the particular and special properties of the humours joined with the blood: and what vessels are assigned unto them, together with their nature and offices. It belongeth to thee, AMANA, to handle this matter. Of the uses and commodities of the humours joined with the blood, and what vessels are assigned unto them in the body, and of their nature and offices: and first of the choleric humour, of the gall and vessel thereof: next of the melancholic humour and of the spleen: then of the phlegmatic humour, and of the kidneys and other vessels, which it hath to purge by. Chap. 66. AMANA. As we ought to labour to cut off all discord, and to nourish all concord, that we may enjoy peace and those benefits that proceed thereof: so we must be very careful to preserve all the parts of our body in such a temperature, as may keep them in a harmony and concord, that we may live in health. For this cause as God hath tempered all the humours one with another, so he hath assigned to every one his proper place & seat, both to withdraw itself therein, and to perform the office enjoined unto it, and also to purge and cleanse itself, and to discharge the body of superfluities and corruptions that otherwise might hurt it. Now we have already heard, how he hath assigned the liver to be the seat of the blood, because he hath appointed the blood to water all the body, and to give life and nourishment unto it, out of which also the vital spirits arise, as small & mild winds proceed out of rivers and fountains. As for the choleric humour, Of the choleric humour. it is joined with the blood for the concoction of humours that abound, and to awake and stir up the body lest it become heavy, sleepy and dull, as also to penetrate and open the passages when it goeth with the blood, and therewithal to nourish those members that agree with the nature of it, as the lungs, with whose nourishment choleric blood doth better agree then any other. Whereby it appeareth evidently, that this humour holdeth of the nature of fire, which giveth unto it this quickness and virtue. And because it is hot and dry, it serveth also to temper the moisture of the blood, and to meet with all cold that might come unto it, and helpeth to preserve it in his natural heat. Now forasmuch as it is not all carried and distributed with the blood, but the greatest part of it remaineth for other uses, God hath assigned a vessel unto it, into which it retireth and is contained therein so far forth as is requisite. The end hereof is, that the blood should not be infected with too much choler mingled therewith, as also that it might descend into the guts, by those passages that are given unto it to that purpose to be voided by them, and to provoke them to discharge those excrements which they receive, and so to purge the whole body. For this cause there is a bladder in fashion like to a long pear, Of the Gall and of his bladder. placed under the midst of the liver, about the hollow part of the right side of it, within which it is half hidden. This bladder is the vessel into which that yellow humour withdraweth itself, and is contained therein, which we call Gall. And as this bladder hath his filaments and threads, both to draw unto it and to retain, as also to expel forth, so it hath two branches coming out of the neck of it, the one upward to draw away the choleric humour in the purifying of the blood, the other downward towards the guts to carry this humour unto them, both for the thrusting forward of nourishment, and for the casting forth of the excrements. For it was necessary, that the great abundance of this humour should retire into some place in the purging of the blood: and therefore it was as requisite that it should have a fit vessel to retire into, wherein it was not to remain unprofitable. The uses of the choleric humour. For besides the uses already spoken of, it serveth not only to cleanse all the guts of ordure, but also to heat the liver, and to hinder the putrefaction of the blood. Besides, experience sufficiently showeth, how needful it is that the blood should have such a vessel wherewith to purge itself. For when the passages thereof are stopped, great diseases follow thereupon, as inflammation of the liver, and the dropsy, but especially the yellow jaundice. For when this humour is not duly separated from the blood, so that it is not purged thereof as nature requireth, then doth it begin to corrupt: whereupon it cannot send such food to the members as is necessary for them, but that which is corrupted by this gall, whereby they are driven out of their natural disposition. And this we may see chiefly in the yellow jaundice by reason of this yellow and bitter humour, that maketh the body yellow, into which it is dispersed by means of the veins, in steed of being nourished with good blood. Of the melancholic humour. The like may be said of the melancholic humour, which is as it were the lees of the blood. For if the blood be corrupted and infected, great inconveniences ensue thereof unto the whole body, through which this humour is dispersed after the same manner that the choleric humour is: insomuch as it becometh black thereby, as the choleric humour maketh it yellow, and for the like cause, breeding the like disease, the difference of humours only excepted. Now because we have not in our usual speech a special name to declare this difference, this disease is commonly called the black jaundice. Of the spleen. Therefore God hath assigned the spleen for a seat to this black humour, which being placed on the left side containeth this humour in it, having proper pipes and passages, both to draw from the liver this dregs of the blood, and also to communicate the same unto the stomach, thereby to provoke appetite, as likewise to purge itself by divers means. The chief use of it is to receive the gross and muddy blood, and to that end there is a great vein, which being the pipe of this blood, goeth from the Port-veine to the spleen, which is nourished with the best of it, and concocteth the abundance of this humour. Therefore God hath created it with such a flesh as is meet and apt for that office: and further hath helped it with certain arteries, whereby it is heated and made warm. And when it hath taken so much of this gross blood to nourish itself withal as is requisite, the rest is partly retained still, and partly thrust out and sent to the bottom of the stomach, by a vain serving for the same purpose, to the end that from thence this humour may be voided out of the body. What effects follow the oppilation of the liver. Now when these veins are stopped, dangerous diseases follow thereupon, chiefly when this happeneth to the first vein whereof I spoke even now. For when the liver is not purged, his whole office is hindered, and itself decayeth by little and little, by retaining still the excrements thereof: from whence the vapours ascending up to the brain trouble it very much, and cause it to fall into very strange and foolish conceits. And when the body is burdened with this humour, it causeth that man to be very melancholic, and sad, and many times bringeth that irksomeness upon him, that he desireth nothing but death. It was very requisite therefore, that God should give both a vessel and passages to this humour, which is not without his great commodities, if it be tempered and distributed as it ought to be. The commodities of the melancholic humour. For it serveth to stay and to retain the floating spirits, which arise out of the blood, lest if they should be made more pure and subtle, then is expedient for the body, they vanish and pass away altogether. It is profitable also to thicken the blood, and to help to restrain and keep it from running over hastily: beside, it nourisheth therewithal the melancholic members, which hold most of the nature of that humour, as namely, the bones and the spleen. Likewise, the dryness both of this and of the choleric humour standeth the blood in some stead: and the coldness thereof serveth to cool and moderate the heat of the blood, and of the choleric humour. Of the phlegmatic humour and profit of it. As for the phlegmatic humour, which is also called Pituita, it is not without his commodities. For first, it is the matter whereof the blood is made, when it is by little and little concocted better: it mitigateth the heat of the blood, and is unto it in place of nourishment, and in stead of a bridle to restrain the burning and devouring heat thereof from present consuming of all. Besides, it keepeth the blood from being too thick and dry: and being carried with the blood, it nourisheth the phlegmatic and cold members, such as the brain is. And as the other humours joined with the blood, have their superfluities and vessels to keep them in and to purge them, so is it with this. For this humour is not only carried with the blood to keep it from overmuch thickness, that it may the better pass through the veins: but there proceedeth also from the whole mass of blood, an excrement like to very thin water, which by reason of the thinness of it, can no way be profitable to the body. For it is a water that differeth as much from blood, and from the phlegmatic humour joined with it, as whey doth from milk, when the butter and cheese with all the substance that can be had from it, is drawn out of it. For it is like to sweat, with which it hath some resemblance. Therefore it hath his proper place assigned unto it in the kidneys, Of the kidneys. which draw to themselves the waterish matter from the blood, thereby purging it from water that would corrupt it, and fill the veins in stead of good blood: as we see it in the dropsy, which bloweth up the body that is stuffed with water in stead of good nourishment, which by the veins it should draw from the blood, if the liver were well affected, and if all the other parts that ought to help it, did well perform their duties. And to the end, that the kidneys may the better do their duty, God hath not only created two, but hath so placed them by his providence, that the right kidney is higher than the left, so that they do their duties one after another. For if they wrought both together, if they were both in one place, & if both drew unto themselves with equal force, in steed of mutual help, they would greatly hinder each other: which inconvenience the providence of God doth very well meet with. And as all the inward parts, of which we have hitherto spoken, have their pipes both to draw from the liver that humour that is meet for them, and to send it where need requireth, and also for to purge themselves: even so the kidneys have their passages apt and meet for the performance of all these things. For first they have Emulgent veins, Emulgent ucines. so called because they draw this waterish superfluity, as a child sucketh milk out of the breast, and having received this water separated from the blood, they send it unto the kidneys. It is true, How the urine is made yellow. that a little blood passeth together with it to nourish the kidneys withal, with which there is some yellow choler mingled, that serveth afterward to help expulsion, and the water being coloured therewith, is made yellow and brackish, and then it is rightly called Urine. Now after the kidneys have drawn from the liver this water, whereby the blood is purged, and themselves also in part nourished with some little of the blood, and that by means of the veins and passages given unto them for that purpose, they have two other passages, Of the Vreteres and of the bladder. called Vreteres, or Urine pipes, whereby they purge and discharge themselves of that water that is called Urine, after the blood is wholly separated from it. This done, these pipes send the water unto the bladder, which is a vessel meet for the receipt thereof, and which doth as it were distil the same by little and little through these pipes that enter into the bladder, both on the right side and on the left. Moreover the bladder hath a neck and passage near to the two urine pipes, whereby it dischargeth itself of this humour, after it hath kept the same awhile, voiding it forth of the body as a superfluous excrement. For if this were not so, after the body were full of this water overflowing in it, not only many parts and members would be broken, but men also should be stifled, by reason of the compression and contraction of the Midriff. I speak not here of the stone which we carry in our kidneys, or of that which oftentimes breedeth both in the kidneys and in the bladder, I mean of such stones as bake there as it were in a Tile-kill, or potter's furnace. I omit also the passions of the kidneys, and the extreme pains proceeding from thence, which are further instructions unto us of our infirmities and miseries, and of the frailty of man's life: but the handling of these things properly belongeth to the Physicians. Of the neck of the bladder. I will only add to that which I have spoken of the neck of the bladder, where the urinary pipes end, that the hole thereof is full of wreathe and turnings, to the end it may the better hold and keep in the water. And for this cause also it hath a muscle, as well as the fundament, to open and to shut, and to yield and retain the urine according to natures will, even as it is with the other excrements that are purged by the bowels. We propound these things as it were a general Anatomy of the body, because if I should lay them open at large and by piece-meal, each member hath in it sufficient whereof to make a great book. For as I have already declared, the artificial workmanship of man's body is incredible and incomprehensible, if a man consider all the parts of it. For there is nothing, be it never so small, but the work of it is very marvelous, the use great, and so fitted to the purpose as cannot possibly be better. But we need not discourse more particularly of the composition and nature of man's body, and of the parts of it, What it is to be a natural divine. seeing our intent is not to become Physicians, but in some sort natural Divines, by learning to know the providence of God in his works, especially in our creation, composition, nourishment and preservation, that we may glorify him in them, as becometh us. Now in all that we have hitherto propounded of the four natural humours of the body, we have spoken of them according as naturally they are, and aught to be without corruption, and such as are necessary for the life of man. But forasmuch as they are of great virtue and power in regard of the affections and manners of men, whether they abide in their right nature, or whether they be corrupted, we must speak somewhat of their corruption, and of the hurt that cometh thereby, not only to the health and life of the body, but also to that of the soul: considering withal what are the sundry natural temperaments of men. Mark therefore, ARAM, what you have to say unto us concerning this matter. Of the names whereby the humours of the body are commonly called, with the causes wherefore: of the comparison between the corruption and temperature of the humours of the body, and between the manners and affections of the Soul: of the means whereby the humours corrupt, and of the Fevers and diseases engendered thereby: of the sundry natural temperatures in every one. Chap. 67. ARAM. The nourishment of man's body hath many degrees, and passeth through many pipes and vessels, before it be perfect and converted by true generation into the proper substance of every member whither it is carried, as we may judge by that which we have already heard to this purpose. But there is such an accord between all the members of the body, whereby every one executeth his office, and such a communion of all their powers, that each member keepeth his rank and order, neither doth any one retain, and keep to itself more nourishment than is requisite, but sendeth as much as is needful unto the rest, even unto the nails, and hairs and uttermost excrements. Now if through some defect or corruption falling out in their nature, any of them break the order of this equal distribution, a common detriment seizeth upon the whole body, and upon all the members generally, so that those parts also taste of the hurt, that offered wrong unto the residue. For they cannot live alone, nor without help from others. What communion ought to be among men. The like is seen in the Commonwealth, and in the members thereof. For what is the cause that some are ready to burst for farnesse and multitude of meats, whereas others are empty and die of hunger? that some have so much wealth, that they are greatly troubled therewith, and others are so poor? Nay, what is the cause of all the confusion in the world, but that every one raketh to himself, and no such equality and communion is observed, as becometh the estate of every one? Wherefore as sundry diseases are bred in man's body, whereby in the end it is utterly overthrown, when there is no such communion between the members thereof, nor any such distribution of the nourishment as there ought to be: so is it with the body of the Commonwealth, when some oppress others, and when every one hath not that that belongeth unto him. For, first there followeth great confusion, and of confusion, subversion, as diseases follow faults committed by the members, and after diseases death itself. Now the infinite number of infirmities and ordinary diseases, whereby more violent deaths are procured then natural, by reason of the defects and excesses brought in by sin into the whole life of man, causeth men to speak diversely of the four humours of the body, necessary for the preservation and nourishment thereof. For they are more often taken for the vices and excesses, whereby they are corrupted, then for the true natural humours, which are the chief instruments of the soul, whereby it giveth life and nourishment to the body. Why the humours are taken in the evil part. The cause whereof, as I think, is because men do sooner and more easily perceive and mark what is evil and hurtful unto them, then that which breedeth their good and profit. And indeed it falleth out commonly, that they know not the good things they have until they have lost them, or else are become hurtful unto them. No marvel then if they know not from whence these good things come, or of whom they have received them, and so become ingrateful towards GOD. Wherefore let us not wonder when God withdraweth them from us, or suffereth them to corrupt and to be spoiled that they might hurt us in steed of helping us, to the end that by this means we might learn to acknowledge that good which before we knew not, and not to despise it when we have it, I mean that we should learn this by the evil that succeed after we have lost the good. The cause of men's ingratitude. For we are such scholars as cannot otherwise imprint in our minds those good things which God bestoweth upon us, but by being deprived of them, and by our own hurt. Hereof it is that we always learn to our own cost, as we say, because we cannot conceive so well, as we ought to do of the free goodness of God. Nay, it were well if all could learn aright by their own harms. For there are but few that profit thereby as they ought. How many are there that in steed of amendment, wax worse through the chastisements of God? But in the mean time our usual manner of speaking teacheth us, that men have more knowledge of corrupt humours that hurt them, then of the good ones that nourish them, and continue in their natural soundness, seeing their names are more often taken in the evil part then in the good. Now when we spoke before of these humours in the body, it was as they are and aught to be naturally, and such as being void of corruption, are necessary for the life of man. And forasmuch as they are of great force in regard of the affections and manners of men, whether they abide in their own nature, or whether they be corrupted, we will speak somewhat more of their corruption, and of those hurts which they bring to the health and life of the body: afterward we will consider of their effects in the soul. The agreement between the manners and humours of the body. But we must here call to mind what we heard before of the agreement between the manners and affections of the soul, and the temperature of the body, and how the one serveth the other. Whereby we may gather, that it is so with the affections in regard of the soul, as it is with the natural humours in regard of the body. For according as these humours are well or ill tempered, so is the body well or ill affected: and according as they increase or diminish, so the health of a man is more sound and steadfast, or more crazy and inconstant, and so ready to turn into more grievous and dangerous diseases. The like may be said of the staidness or unstaidness of the affections of the soul, and of the spiritual health and diseases thereof. For this cause, if we ought to be so careful to reduce our body to a good temperature when there is any defect: and being so, to preserve it in the same estate still, and so likewise for the equality and agreement that ought to be between the humours from whence it cometh, so that we desire to obtain health when we are sick, and to keep it well when we have it: then ought we to be much more careful for the temperature and moderation of the affections of the soul, and of the spiritual health that proceedeth thereof. And therefore in the corruption of the bodily humours, we are to consider diligently of the corruption of manners, and of the affections of the soul. For there is great agreement between the one and the other. But to come to the chief point of this present speech, By what means the natural humours corrupt. we are first to note, that the natural humours corrupt two manner of ways, when they leave the order of nature and change their natural properties. For that cometh unto them, either because their proper substance degenerateth without any mixture of other humours, or through the mixture of some other vicious and corrupt humour. Now how much the more requisite the humour is, and necessary for the body of man being in his natural soundness, so much the more hurtful is it when it is corrupted. Therefore forasmuch as the blood, which is properly so called amongst the humours of the body, is more convenient, apt and necessary for the life thereof then any of the rest, as hath been declared unto us, it followeth that the corruption thereof is more dangerous then of any other humour. Now it degenerateth from his own substance, when (the pores being shut) it putrefieth within the veins, and is turned into a certain choleric humour, not natural but corrupted: The original of Fevers and other diseases. whereupon the continual Fever arisech. Besides, it corrupteth after another manner, namely, through the mixture of some other humour, as when the first mass of blood is corrupt through the abundance of a raw humour that is not well digested in the liver, whereof the dropsy followeth, as likewise the yellow jaundice is bred of the blood corrupted through too great abundance of the choleric humour. The corruption of the phlegmatic humour. In like manner the phlegmatic humour is corrupted in his substance, when it overfloweth and giveth upward in men's bodies, and continueth raw for want of good concoction and digestion: it being sometimes more thin, and sometimes more thick. From hence cometh spittle, snattines of the nose, catherres, & distillations, and oftentimes vomiting, when it is gross & thick. Besides, this phlegmatic humour corrupteth through the mixture of the choleric or melancholic humour: and then it waxeth salt or sharp, according to the humour that is mingled therewith. And as the continual fever is bred of blood corrupted in substance, so the quotidian ague proceedeth of the corruption of the phlegmatic humour. Of the choleric humour. As for the choleric humour it degenerateth of itself, when it burneth and is turned into a vicious melancholic humour that is like ashes, thick and biting. And because this alteration groweth by little and little, either by reason of age, or of violent motions in them, that are naturally very choleric, it cometh to pass that such persons are in their old age subject to a furious kind of anger. On the other side, this choleric humour corrupteth when it is mingled with some other humour, as when it is mixed with phlegm, which as it is either more thin, or thicker, so is the colour of the choler more or less yellow, pale, or green. The like may be said of the mixture of all the other humours. Now as the tertian ague, I mean the right and perfect tertian, is engendered of the choleric humour corrupted in his substance: so the bastard tertian is bred of the same humour, when it is mixed with a vicious and corrupt phlegmatic humour. From whence all sorts of agues proceed. And truly this is very strange, that the corruption of every several humour doth in this sort breed sundry kinds of agues according to the diversity of the humours. For as there are four sundry sorts of humours, so there are four kinds of ordinary agues that have their several relations to each of these humours. So that as the continual fever is bred of blood corrupted, and the quotidian of phlegm, and the tertian of the choleric humour, so the quartane proceedeth of the melancholic humour corrupted. Now besides these ordinary fevers, there are others mingled and compounded, according as the putrefied humours of which they are bred, are mingled and compounded together. From hence spring demi and double tertians, and quartanes and such like. And sometime one and the same man shall have sundry sorts of fevers in one disease, according to the diversity and abundance of corrupt humours that are in him. We may say as much of all other diseases that are bred of corrupt humours, according as they are either simpler, or more mingled and compounded. The corruption of the melancholy humour. Therefore as the other humours corrupt in such sort as we heard before, so when the melancholic humour putrefieth, either it burneth of itself, or else by the mixture of other humours, insomuch as it waxeth gross and biting, and holdeth of the nature of ashes. Now when a body subject to choler, From whence madness cometh. phlegm, or blood, waxeth melancholic, that man, by reason the fumes can not evaporate and get out, falleth into frenzies and mad fits, and those of divers sorts. For as the melancholic humour is mixed, either with blood, or with phlegm or with choler, so is the melancholy person more or less merry or sad, heavier or lighter, colder or hotter, and his fits and furies either more moderate, or more vehement and violent. But howsoever it be, we see by daily experience, that there are many sorts of melancholic persons, of mad, senseless, and furious people. And besides the mixture of vicious humours, we must consider also the sundry natural temperaments of every one. For as we see that wines are diversly tempered according to the variety of countries, lands, and air where they grew, and that albeit they are always wine, yet there is great difference in the one from the other, both in substance, nourishment, colour, smell, virtue, and strength: even so is it with the humours of the body. For the same humours are more pure, or more moderate, or more noble and exquisite in some then in others, according to the natures of their bodies, and not only of their own, but also of their parents bodies from whence they were derived. For children commonly take much after their parents. I speak nothing of that which the temperament may take of the heavens, and of all the celestial bodies, and chief of the special grace of GOD, the prince of nature, who ruleth over all temperaments and complexions. But it is time, that following our purpose, we consider what effects the humours have towards the soul, and that we look into the diversities of the temperatures and complexions of men, according unto the nature of those humours that reign most in them, and to that disposition which naturally they do work in them either to virtues or vices. This we shall learn of thee ACHITOB. Of the diverse temperatures and complexions of men, according to the nature of humours that bear most sway in them: of the disposition whereunto they are naturally moved by them either to virtues or vices: of the means to correct the vices and defects that may be in our natural inclinations. Chap. 68 ACHITOB. It is not without great show of reason, that the Philosophers made three principles and beginnings that effect men's actions, Three chief workers of men's actions. namely, powers, habits, or qualities, and affections, or passions. For we see plainly by experience, of how great force these things are in man so long as he liveth. Concerning powers, they come to us by nature, and are effective principles of all actions both good and bad: yea by them we know in children, during their young years, the signs and tokens of some virtue or vice, that will reign most in them afterwards, which we commonly call Inclination or Disposition. The passions and affections are likewise natural in us, being forcible pricks to provoke men to embrace either good or evil, whereof we have already spoken sufficiently. As for the habits or qualities, they are accidental in man, as they that are gotten by a long and continual custom of doing good or evil, whereupon also they take their names of good or evil habits. He speaketh of such goodness and virtues as were ●o esteemed of by the heathen that knew not their natural corruption. Now we commonly see some to be naturally inclined to one virtue and not to another, or to one vice and not to an other. For it seemeth sometimes that nature hath bred some to be temperate, others to be liberal, and contrariwise. And when a man endued with natural powers tending to good, obtaineth qualities answerable thereunto, he is worthy of commendation, because unto his inclination he hath added greater help, namely, care and study, by means whereof he is come to some perfection. So likewise he that being naturally borne impotent, attaineth to those virtues that are contrary to his impotency, deserveth greater praise: because fight as it were with nature, he remaineth conqueror over himself, and becometh virtuous with greater difficulty. But contrariwise, if a man that is naturally ill disposed to some particular vice, doth add further a habit to his bad inclination, he is worthy of blame, because he hath not resisted evil, but pleasing himself therein hath made it greater. As likewise he that hath excellent graces and gifts of nature to do well, and suffereth them to vanish away through his negligence and custom in evil, is much more to be blamed, because that voluntarily he suffereth himself to be overcome of vice. But we must consider of these things somewhat higher, and by the self same reason judge of the natural temperaments, which in the former speech we heard were diverse in every one. For we ought to acknowledge one God, Prince, and Author of nature, who ruleth in all and over all. God ruleth in all, and over all. Therefore as he hath appropriated to the soul those instruments, which he hath given unto it in the body, to work in them and by them: so himself disposeth and ordereth those instruments, which he will use amongst men, yea, even from their mother's womb, jerem. 1. as it is written of the Prophet jeremy, and of the Apostle Saint Paul, Galat. 1. whom our Saviour also called achosen instrument to be are his name before the Gentiles, Acts 9 15. and Kings, and children of Israel. No doubt therefore, considering the agreement which we have heard is in the affections of the soul with the temperature of the body, but that the more temperate the complexion of every man's body is, and the nearer it approacheth to the perfectest temperature, the more quiet and moderate, the more gracious and comely will his affections and manners be naturally, yea all his gestures and whole behaviour. True it is, as we have elsewhere touched, that no body is so framed, or hath such an harmony and equality throughout, but that there is some disagreement & inequality. But we account those natures to be well tempered, which approach nearest to the perfect temperature: and as every humour ruleth more or less in every one, so he is called either sanguine, or phlegmatic, or choleric, or melancholic. Again, as the other humours bear sway next unto the principal, so is a man said to be either phlegmatic sanguine, choleric sanguine, or melancholic sanguine. The like may be said of the other humours according to their temperature, as also of the affections which have some agreement with them. The nature of phlegmatic persons. Hereof it is, that when there is excess of the phlegmatic humour in men, their natures are commonly slothful, they shun labour and give themselves to bodily pleasures, they love dainties, and delicate meats and drinks, they are tender and effeminate, and clean contrary to stout and valiant men. And if there be excess of the choleric humour, their natures are easily provoked and stirred up to wrath: The nature of a choleric complexion. but their anger is as a fire of thorns, that being soon kindled & making a great noise, is by and by quenched again. Their gestures also are more quick and vehement, and their hastiness is commonly foolish and turbulent: they bablemuch, and are like to vessels full of holes, unable to hold in and keep any secret matter: they are fierce in assailing, but inconstant in sustaining the assault, in some sort resembling the nature of dogs, which bark and bite if they can, and afterward fly away. And if there be excess of the melancholic humour, The nature of the melancholic body. the natures of such are sad, still, hard to please, suspicious, conceited, obstinate, some more and some less. And if the choleric and melancholic humours be corrupt and mingled together, their natures become monstrous, proud, full of envy, fraud, subtleties, venomous and poisonful, hateful and diabolical. And when the malignant spirits know men's natures thus disposed, What natures are most abused by evil spirits. no doubt but they take occasion thereby to intermingle themselves, if God permit them, and purpose to use them for the punishing of men: I say, they will join themselves unto them, and make them their instruments, as God on the other side useth those natures that are most moderate and best tempered, making them instruments of his glory. Now we may call to mind what we learned before almost to the same end, touching the means whereby evil spirits might trouble the imagination, fantasy and minds of men. We may say as much of the humours of the body, whose motions and nature they know very well. Whereby they can so much the more easily abuse them in their damnable work and will, as we may judge by the example of him that was possessed and lunatic, Matth. 17. 15. mar 9 20. luke 9 39 of whom the Evangelists make mention, and whom they call by those two names. And by that which they wrote of him, it seemeth that he was subject to the falling sickness, that returneth oftentimes according to the course of the moon, which naturally hath great affinity with the humours, and great power over them. And therefore it is very likely, that the evil spirit which tormented this poor lunatic, watched the occasions of his disease to afflict him the more, and to cause him to fall either in the fire or in the water, as he did indeed, thereby to work his death if he had could. Which example showeth unto us what is the malice of the devil, How vigilant the Devil is to hurt us. what pleasure he taketh in hurting of men, what means and what occasions he seeketh for and maketh choice of, and what access unto us we may offer him through our corrupt nature, through our vices and sins, and through our inclinations and manners that are naturally evil and perverse, if God letteth him lose the bridle by his just judgement: seeing he spareth not the little children, as it appeareth in that which is written of him, of whom we spoke even now. For this cause we ought to take good heed, that we give not our common enemy those occasions that he seeketh to have from us, to the end that he abuse us not, nor any thing that is ours, and which God hath bestowed upon us. What profit we reap by the knowledge of our complexions. This is the reason why the consideration of our temperature, complexion, and natural inclination is very necessary for us: because the knowledge hereof affordeth unto us many good instructions that may stand us in great stead throughout our whole life, as well for the preservation of the health of our bodies, as for the rule and government of our affections and manners, as also in regard of the familiarity and acquaintance which we have one with an other. For through the contemplation hereof, we may know, not only the causes of health and sickness, of the life and death of the body, but also of that of the soul. For as the good humours corrupt in our bodies according as we have heard, and breed in them sundry diseases, which finally lead them unto death: even so by means of sin all those good and natural affections, which ought to be the seeds of virtues in us, are corrupted and turn into vices, that are the diseases of the soul, and bring unto it the second and eternal death: as contrariwise virtues are the health and life thereof. But as GOD hath provided corporal medicines for the body, so he hath prepared spiritual Physic for the soul against all the diseases thereof. Therefore when we consider with ourselves unto what vices we are inclined by nature, we must labour to correct, and bridle them, and to quench such inclinations, as much as we can, through sobriety, vigilancy, and continual practice to the contrary: lest we nourish and increase them, when as we ought to diminish and wholly to abolish them. For the common proverb is not without reason, that Education passeth Nature, or that it is another nature. We see by experience what Education and Instruction are able to do both to goodness and vice, according as they are either good or evil. For as there is no nature so good, which can not be corrupted and perverted through evil education and teaching: so there is none so vicious and evil, which can not, at the least in some measure, (through the help and grace of GOD) be corrected and amended by good education, What natures we are to eschew. instruction, and discipline. And because conversation and familiarity are of great efficacy in this point, we are diligently to consider with what persons and natures we acquaint ourselves, and be careful to eschew such natures as are vicious, proud, fierce, envious, hateful, malicious, suspicious, disloyal, and traitorous, as well in regard of the corruption of manners wherewith we may be infected by them, as also in respect of other harms that may befall us, by reason they are unsociable natures, or at the least very difficult to converse withal, being indeed such as towards whom no man can bear any true love or firm friendship. But when we have used all the diligence we can possible about these things, The true means to cure our vices. the chiefest point wherein the whole consisteth, is this, that we have recourse to jesus Christ the eternal son of GOD, to the end that by his holy Spirit, he would correct, repress, and quench in us all the vicious affections and disordered motions, that we have contrary to his holy will: according to that promise which is made unto us, wherein it is said, Matth. 7. 11. that if fathers know how to give good gifts to their children and such things as are necessary for them, Luke 11. 13. much more will our heavenly Father give his holy Spirit to them that ask it of him. And this is the true means we ought to keep for the correcting of these vices and defects, that are in our natural inclinations. Now we have spoken sufficiently of those things which concern the natural powers of the soul, in respect of the nourishment and growth of the body, and of those instruments which it hath in the same for the performance of her actions. It remaineth now that we consider what effects it hath in Generation. First then ASER, thou shalt handle the restoration and reparation of all natures by that virtue and power of Generation that is in them, and namely, in man: to the end we may after proceed with those other points that concern this matter. Of the restoration and reparation of all natures created by the Generative power and virtue that is in them, and namely, in man: what Generation is, and what the Generative power of the soul is: what the seed is, and how Generation proceedeth of strength and of infirmity. Chap. 69. ASER. Psal. 127. 1. When Solomon sayeth in the Psalm entitled with his name, Except the Lord build the house, they that build, labour in vain, we must not think that by the building whereof he speaketh, he understandeth a frame of stone and wood to make a lodging and dwelling place of it, but he respecteth specially that building that consisteth of houses and families, through the generation of children, and their good education and instruction: as himself showeth plainly when by and by after he sayeth in the same Psalm, Behold, Verse 3. children are an inheritance from the Lord, and the fruit of the womb a reward. Whereby we have a sure testimony, as in many other places of the Scripture, that we must acknowledge the Generation of children to come from God, and not from nature, and the fruitfulness and barrenness both of men and women. By our former speeches we may learn what was the creation of the the first man and first woman, with the lawful conjunction betwixt them, by means whereof God would have mankind preserved & multiplied by good order, and not by a brutish confusion, such as is amongst the beasts. Now it remaineth, that following the order of our discourses, we speak of generation, whereby we shall know the virtue that God gave for that purpose to our first parents, when he said unto them, Genes. 1. 28. Bring forth fruit and multiply and fill the earth. Which hath had such power and virtue, that from thence have issued all the men, women, The virtue of the blessing of God for generation. and children, that have been since the beginning of the world, that are now, and that shall be unto the end thereof. The like also proceeded from the blessing which God gave not only to all other living creatures, but also to all herbs and plants. For we have already heard, how after the living body is grown up to his full vigour and strength, it beginneth then by little and little to fail, and to tend unto death, whereby in the end it falleth away altogether. For, according to that comparison and similitude, which hath been already propounded unto us of a lamp, the flame whereof cannot be joined still with the week except there be some cleaving moisture to knit the parts together: so there is in a living body a certain humidity that holdeth of the nature of the air, which moisture is very good, and is dispersed throughout the whole body, having his propagation of the seed, and joining together all the parts of the body. Of the Radical humour. This is commonly called the Radical humour, because it is as it were the root of life, and hath the celestial and quickening heat brought immediately and directly unto it: so that when this moisture is extinguished, the heat also vanisheth, and fadeth away. And look as the heat drinketh up and consumeth by little and little this humidity, so doth the heat itself diminish and languish away, because his food faileth that is in the moisture: even as the flame lesseneth and looseth his vigour, Of the defect of man's life with the causes thereof. as the oil, or tallow, or wax faileth in a lamp, or in a candle. And although this radical humidity be nourished by the ordinary food which the body daily receiveth, nevertheless, forasmuch as that nourishment which every member receiveth, is not so pure nor so fit, nor so natural as the radical humour itself, neither can wholly restore that which diminisheth and consumeth thereof, it must needs be that life should fail in process of time, by reason that neither the vigour of the heat, nor the pureness of his nourishment continueth sound and entire. For the same thing agreeth to this radical humour, which we see by experience in wine, which so long as it is pure and in his natural strength, doth easily turn a little water into it own nature, so that it can not be perceived that there is any water at all in it. But if ye continue still pouring in of water and mingling it therewith, it will weaken by little and little, and always lose of his pure substance, so that in the end it will be no better than water. And thus the radical humour and the natural heat destroy one an other. For the humour that is gotten by sustenance differeth much from the Radical that was consumed by natural heat. Whereupon it followeth also, that this natural heat hath not so good and pure nourishment as before, so that it must needs grow weaker: and being thus weakened, it hath less virtue to concoct well, and to turn that humour into nourishment wherewith it ought to be maintained. By this means it cometh to pass, that the radical humidity & natural heat fail and perish both together. Whereby we may easily understand why men's bodies abide not always in their strength, but fail and wax old, and so death followeth old-age. We have already spoken somewhat before both of the length and shortness of man's life, and of natural & violent death: but we will speak more fully of them hereafter, God willing. Now we are to consider, how the providence of God hath provided for this defect of nature through that virtue of Generation, which by his blessing he hath given unto it, and whereof I spoke even now, to the end, that the whole race and severall-kindes of things created should not perish. What is meant by nature. Whereupon we may well say, that that nature which hath this virtue, is no other thing then the blessing of God, whereunto all honour is to be given. For as GOD hath created all things by his mighty word, so by the self same word he hath created and placed in the first kinds of the creatures that he hath created, those seeds whereby he would have every one preserved both in the whole and in his several kind. Genes. 1. And therefore as in blessing the earth after he had created it, and commanding it to bring forth herbs, trees, and plants with their fruits according to their kinds, he did therewithal endue it with virtue to do so, as it hath always done so hitherto, doth so daily, and will do so to the end of the world: even so is it with that blessing which he hath given to all the plants, and to all living creatures, and namely, to man and woman, and with that commandment which he hath given them to grow, to multiply and to fill the earth. Wherefore we ought without ceasing to consider and to contemplate God the Creator in the generation of all things, and principally in that of man, as if we beheld him daily pursuing his work of creation. For although he work now by other means than he did in the first creation of the whole frame, yet he is no less now the Creator of all men, and of all other creatures that grow daily in the world by generation, than he was of the first man and first creatures, which he created of nothing in the beginning. For he created us all in Adam and Eve, and shut us up as it were in a storehouse, or in a spring or fountain, or as in one stock of mankind, out of which he produceth men continually. Wherefore we ought diligently to consider of this work of GOD, and of this virtue which he hath given to Nature by his word and blessing to engender like, and to increase the whole race and kind thereof. For this cause as it is the office of Nature in the beginning to nourish bodies, and then to cause them to increase and augment: so in the end it is her duty to preserve the several kinds of things as long as she may, What Generation is. by Generation of the like. Whereby it appeareth, that Generation is a work of living creatures after they are come to their growth and vigour, as we see the like also in plants themselves. For in the beginning of the Spring all their virtue is in the root, & from thence it cometh after into the boughs & leaves, next into the flower & fruit, What the generative power is. and lastly into the seed, which being sown, another plant is brought forth like unto the first. Wherefore we may say, that the Generative virtue is a power in living creatures that engendereth his like, being ordained for the preservation of the same kind. So that we must diligently meditate and often set before our eyes this goodly order of nature, according whereunto the nourishing faculty is first given to the soul for the preservation of every particular. Next, the power to cause it to grow and to augment to a just & sufficient greatness: and lastly, the generative virtue whereby the kind is preserved. For albeit the order that is throughout the whole course of nature be an evident testimony, that neither the world nor any thing therein, standeth upon chance or fortune, yet among others this is most singular and excellent, in that the same kinds of all things abide continually, & that every one begetteth & multiplieth his like, without any manner of confusion amongst them: which could not be eschewed, if so be that creatures were bred and borne at adventure, without the counsel and providence of their Creator, & of him that wrought such a work. Now we are to understand, What seed is. that the seed is a body that hath in itself a vegetative soul, which body in Generation is turned into an other like to that from which it is taken: and because nourishing, growing, and engendering are the effects of food and sustenance, they are contained under the name of a vegetative soul, which is a faculty and power, What is meant by a vegetative soul. that not only converteth food into the substance of the living body, for the good thereof, and by that conversion augmenteth, that it may attain to a convenient bigness, but also engendereth an other body of the same form and kind. And therefore after that this vegetative power hath done that duty which it ought to perform about the growth of the living body, then hath it time and means enough to gather together into a small room many of those qualities that keep the soul in the administration of the body, out of which it can soon draw and engender a like kind, so far forth as the qualities of the matter will be able to bear. For when they are repugnant to the qualities meet for that kind, whatsoever cometh thereof degenerateth, as we see it in the earth, when in stead of wheat, whereof it received the seed, it bringeth forth darnel, or some other herbs of an other nature, and as we see it also in monsters, that are borne both of women and of other living creatures. Of the cause of monsters. For there are in many countries (namely, in Sicilia, and in the kingdom of Naples, and in Flaunders, as many Authors worthy of credit have testified) women in whom have been bred oftentimes sundry kinds of beasts in stead of children, and sometimes together with the child either living or dead. Which thing cometh to pass in such women as abound with evil humours that are putrefied and corrupted, either by reason of the air, or of bad meat, or of excess in eating: as in such bodies wherein worms, and such other filthiness breedeth. The Astrologians refer this unto constellations, as they do all other things. I leave the secret judgements and punishments of GOD, whereby such things may come to pass: nevertheless these things ought to admonish women to pray unto God, to recommend themselves to him, and to be sober. The moon calves in the womb, which fall out often, proceed also of the like causes. In like manner it falleth out oftentimes that the kind degenerateth through corruption of the seed. But to go on forward with our matter of the Generation of living creatures, and namely, of man, we must know that forasmuch as the male hath naturally more heat in him then the female, he is also by nature the chiefest in Generation. For this cause when the holy Scriptures speak of mankind, it is ordinarily comprehended under the name of man. And when mention is made of his generation, they speak as though all proceeded only from man: as when Malachi speaking of his creation sayeth, Malach. 2. 15. Did not he make one? and wherefore one? because he sought a godly seed. And Saint Paul, He hath made (saith he) of one blood, all mankind. Nevertheless GOD hath put in nature such a temperature between the male and the female, that if both their natures were altogether alike, there could be no Generation. For it consisteth in force and in infirmity. But the wisdom of God hath so well provided, as that it knoweth how to draw strength out of weakness, so that the one can do nothing without the other in generation, because he hath so willed and ordained it. Now I leave to thee, AMANA, to discourse unto us more particularly of such things as are most worthy to be noted in this marvelous work of God, and of the principal cause why he hath given to man the Generative power. Of the powers of the Generative virtue, and of their offices: of the principal cause why God gave to man the power of Generation: in what sense the reins are taken for the seat of Generation: how we ought rightly to consider of the generation of man. Chap. 70. AMANA. As novelty causeth a man through the error of judgement, to think that rare things are greater and more worthy of admiration: so most men imagine those matters to be small and not worthy to be wondered at, which fall out daily before their eyes. But ignorance is the cause of both these effects. Two effects of ignorance. For as a man admireth that which he never knew could be performed, so he maketh no reckoning of that thing which he usually beholdeth, because he hath always been ignorant of the secrets of nature, or rather of his Author and Creator, who appeareth wonderful in the least of his works, even in the very Ant or Pismire. This self same ignorance is the cause that so few contemplate as they ought the form and fashion of their being, or that give due glory to him who daily bringeth them into the world by such wonderful workmanship. Neither is it possible that men should give such glory to GOD as they ought, except they esteem all those works which he effecteth daily amongst them, to be so many miracles worthy admiration, which way soever they turn their eyes. Moreover, let them know, that what measure of knowledge soever they are able to get of his works, yet that which they do know is very little, yea, almost nothing, in regard of that whereof they are ignorant: even in that which concerneth their creation and generation. Now following that which we have already heard touching this matter, we are to consider a marvelous providence of God, in the similitude that is between the creature engendering, and that which proceedeth from it. Where by the way we may observe this, that there is greater resemblance in the Generation of plants then in that of living creatures, and more in that of beasts then in that of men: forasmuch as plants are void of imagination, Of the similitude that is in generation. and that imagination which is in beasts is more firm and stayed then that which is in men, because our minds are more floating and unstable. But it is wonderful to consider what great similitude there is, insomuch as we commonly see, that the infirmities of some members in the parents are found also in their children: and that oftentimes they express their very looks, countenances, and gesturs. Which also may serve for a further confirmation of that which we have already touched, concerning the agreement of evils with the complexion and temperature of the humours of men's bodies. Again, it appeareth by the strength or weakness that is found to be as well in children as in their fathers and mothers, that the seed of which they are begotten descendeth not only from the brain, From whence the seed cometh. as some have thought, but that it is also taken from all the other members, and from all parts of the body. And because it is a profitable superfluity taken from the nourishment of the blood scattered throughout the whole body after the fourth digestion, it hath peculiar vessels in the body, some to draw it, others to perfect and preserve it for generation, and some to expel it out. And as this expulsive virtue is necessary in Generation on the behalf of the male, so in regard of the female it is requisite that there should be a virtue to contain and preserve, and secondly to change, mingle, and temper it with the woman's seed, so far forth as shall be expedient for the temperature of the whole body, The several virtues of the generative power. and of every member thereof. Besides, there must be another virtue to fashion into members all this matter mingled and tempered, and to give unto them that figure and shape which agreeth to every one of them. Lastly, there is an other virtue requisite, which should drive out the child after it is fashioned, at the time which GOD hath appointed in nature for that purpose. And these are all the parts with their offices, which are to be found in the Generative power of the vegetative soul. Now because there are so many sorts of them, it is very meet that they should have sundry places and diverse instruments in the body for the exercise of them. For this cause there are, to serve all these offices, sundry parts and many members, composed with wonderful Art, and distinguished in most admirable fashion both with figures and qualities. But our meaning is not to make any long particular narration, both by reason of the matter which would be very long, as also because sin hath made the Generation of man so full of shame, that men can hardly speak of it, or of those members that serve thereunto, especially of one part of them, without shame. Nevertheless, as before we have considered the counsel and providence of God, in that he hath joined to man created to immortality, that part wherein the light of his divine wisdom shall shine, the love of God shall be fervent, and righteousness shall dwell for evermore, with the kitchen of man's body, whose use shall pass away after this life: so we must consider the cause why he hath joined unto this kitchen the Generative power, The chief cause why the generative power was given to man. and wherefore he hath given it to man. Let us know then, that as man was created for an other end then plants and beasts, so God hath given to him the power of Generation to an other end than he hath to them, upon whom it is bestowed only for the preservation of their kinds. For it was especially given him, because the Creator of the whole world purposed to collect and gather together a perpetual Church out of mankind, that is, a company of men begotten after this manner, to be dedicated and consecrated unto him. Therefore we ought diligently to meditate and to think often upon this wonderful counsel of GOD, and to yield him praise, in that he hath manifested himself unto us, and of this weak and corrupt mass of flesh hath assembled and culled out an everlasting Church: and in that he aideth, nourisheth and preserveth us, yea, is careful over us, and heareth us calling upon him. Neither doth he only preserve the whole course of nature for our sakes, but also giveth himself unto us: which are such benefits as exceed all the imagination and eloquence of man. Wherefore we ought so much the rather to awaken our minds to consider them well, and be very much displeased with ourselves, because we do● not so well as we ought, behold this presence of GOD in that obscurity and darkness wherein we live; as also because we are no more stirred up to love, serve, and honour him, in regard of that true and great love wherewith he loveth us. But to go forward with our matter of Generation, we must call to mind what we heard before of the use of the kidneys for the purging of blood, in respect whereof we call all that part of the body wherein they are seated, Of the seat of Generation. by the name of Reins. And by reason of the nearness that is between them and the seed vessels serving for Generation, which are many in number, all that part is taken, chiefly in the holy Scriptures, for the seat and spring thereof, and as it were for the seminary of mankind. Therefore it is written in the Hebrews, Hebr. 7. 10. that Levi was yet in the loins of his father Abraham, when Melchisedec met him. Genes. 35. 11. And Moses speaking in the person of the Lord, of the promise made to jacob, sayeth, Kings shall come out of thy loins. David also minding to show what knowledge God hath of men whom he hath created, Psal. 139. 13. saith, Thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. And job declaring the self same thing more fully, and speaking of the seed whereof he was begotten, job▪ 10. 10, 11. after he had said, Hast thou not powered me out as milk? and turned me to cruds like cheese? he addeth presently, Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and joined me together with bones and sinews. This is that covering whereof the Psalmist spoke, which was given him of God in his mother's womb after her conception. Whereupon we have to note, that these holy men speaking in this manner, teach us sufficiently what is the chief part of man, which they account to be the true man. What is man properly. For they declare unto us evidently that the soul which dwelleth in the body is truly man, and that the body in comparison thereof is but his covering, and the lodging wherein he dwelleth. Therefore the Heathens themselves compared man's soul to one placed in a garrison, in which he is to abide until he be called from thence by the Prince and Captain that placed him therein: meaning thereby to teach us, that we must abide in this life and discharge our duty therein, so long as it shall please God, who hath brought us into it, to have us to continue therein. Truly, if we consider well of those marvelous works, which GOD effecteth daily in the Generation of men, we may well say, that it is a great miracle of God in Nature, and aught to be diligently considered of, as David testifieth that he did so in his own person. Therefore he saith, Psalm. 139. 5. Thou holdest me strait behind and before, and layest thine hand upon me: showing throughout the whole psalm, that there is nothing in man so hidden and covered, which is not discovered before GOD, and which he knoweth not and searcheth not unto the bottom, to the end that men deceive not themselves through their hypocrisy, thinking to hide themselves before him. For this cause he sayeth in the beginning, that he is so known to GOD on all sides, both within and without, that there is not so much as one motion in him, nor one thought or affection, which is not wholly manifested unto him. And to prove and confirm his saying, he taketh his argument from the creation of man, giving us to understand thereby, that forasmuch as GOD is his Creator and Maker, it can not be but that he should thoroughly know his work. Whereby we have a certain testimony of that which we spoke in our former discourse, of the creation of all those men that are daily created by Generation, according to the order of Nature appointed by GOD. For the Prophet doth no less acknowledge that GOD hath made him, than Adam the first man did. So that look what the Prophet speaketh of his own person, it is also to be understood of every one, both in regard of his creation, as also of that knowledge which GOD hath of all things in man, be they never so hid and covered. Afterward he addeth, Verse▪ 6. that this knowledge is too wonderful for him, and so high that he cannot attain unto it. Now we may judge well, both of the composition of man's body, and also of the nature of the soul, by those discourses which we have already made. And if we did consider but of the body by itself, yet had we just cause to say as much as David sayeth here. What then might be spoken if we joined the soul with the body, and considered only of that which might generally be known by such means as are already set down? For by that which we do know, we shall judge well enough how far this knowledge exceedeth our capacity, and what remaineth yet behind, which we cannot comprehend. Forasmuch then as the Prophet woondereth so much at this great and high skill, whereof God giveth us so excellent testimony in the creation and generation of men, we ought not to think it superfluous and unprofitable, but well beseeming a Christian man, to inquire after that which God would have us know, and which we may know, and to consider well of his works wherein he manifesteth his providence and wisdom, especially in man, who is, as we have heard, the chiefest of all his works amongst the visible creatures, and as it were an other world created within this. Now as David from the creation of man, inferreth the knowledge which God hath of him, so job in the same place that I alleged even now concludeth, that forasmuch as God is the Creator and Artificer that made man, he delighteth not in destroying his work. job▪ 10. 8. Thy hands (saith he) have made me and fashioned me wholly round about, and wilt thou destroy me? Which is as much as if he had said, is it possible that I who am the work of thy hands, should be brought to nothing by thee? For besides that this were against nature, Psalm. 36. and 138. the Scripture testifieth unto us in many places, that he is not only a preserver of that which he hath made, but also that he leaveth not his works unperfect: and that he is so far from defacing them, that contrariwise it is his manner to lead them to perfection. A good lesson to be learned from our creation. Whereby we ought to learn, that the only consideration of the work of our creation ought greatly to solace, comfort, and confirm us in all afflictions and adversities, how rigorous soever the hand of God should be upon us. For first, we ought to be thoroughly resolved of this, that no affliction can come unto us, but by his good will and from his hand, whatsoever the means and instruments are, of which he maketh his rods and scourges, and by which he striketh and beateth us. Now then seeing the hand that toucheth us is the same that hath made and fashioned us, we know well that he setteth not himself against a strange work unknown unto him, but against his own wherewith he is very well acquainted. Whereupon we may certainly conclude, that it proceedeth not of cruelty and fury that he striketh us, nor yet without good cause: as he that is neither cruel, nor furious, nor void of reason. So that it followeth necessarily, either that we have given him great occasion, or that it is very requisite for us. The afflictions of God's children turn to their good. But howsoever it be, he ever knoweth well how to turn all the afflictions of his children to his glory, and to their great honour and profit, as we have many notable examples hereof in all the servants of God, and namely in those two personages David and job, of whom we have spoken in this our discourse. Which we continuing so far forth as it respecteth the work of man's generation, are to consider more narrowly of the admirable secret of nature therein, so much as daily experience and diligent search hath learned men to know. Tell us then, ARAM, of the fashion of a child in the womb. Of the fashion of a child in the womb, and how the members are framed one after another in the mother's belly: of the time and days, within which a child is perfectly fashioned. ARAM. I cannot marvel enough at the pride and presumption of many, who think themselves to be such great Philosophers, and so skilful in the knowledge of natural things, that they persuade themselves, that nothing is so secret in nature which they know not, and whereof they are not able to show the causes and reasons. But experience showeth unto us daily, how far short they are of that which they think, and in what ignorance the best learned are wrapped at this day. For how many things are daily manifested unto them, which the greatest searchers of nature, that ever have been, were ignorant of, unto whom notwithstanding they that now live are but disciples? And how many things do continually come to pass, into which the chiefest, sharpest sighted, and most expert have no sight at all, No man's knowledge perfect. or very small? And among them that suppose they have good knowledge, how are they deceived oftentimes? How many are doubtful in many things whereof they have but small conjectures, whereupon they guess at all adventure, and as they imagine? We may easily judge hereof by this, that continually one reprehendeth & correcteth another, and that the later writers condemn sundry things in the former. But not to seek afar off for examples, we may see them daily in the science of the Anatomy of men's bodies. For there was never yet Physician or Anatomist either old or new, that attained to perfect knowledge, and could render a reason of every thing that is but in one body, notwithstanding that they are continually conversant in that matter. Therefore, to leave unto God that secret which is hidden from our understanding, let us consider of that which we may know touching the form of a child in the womb. If we look narrowly into that order that nature followeth in the framing of man, who is the little world, we shall find it like to that which the Author of nature observed in the creation of the world, which Moses calleth the generations of the heavens and of the earth. Gen. 2. 4. For in the beginning the earth was without form and void, and covered with a great gulf of waters, The creation of the world, and of man compared together. so that the earth and waters and matter of all the elements, and of all creatures created afterwards, were mingled and confounded together in this great heap. Unto this the Almighty afterwards added a form, and created so many goodly creatures, and of so divers natures and kinds as are to be seen in the whole world, which he hath adorned with them, and endued with so great beauty that it hath received the name of that, which is as much as Ornament or Order of things well disposed. After the same manner doth nature, or rather God by nature, work in the creation and generation of men. For the seed of which they are form, and which is the matter prepared, disposed and tempered by the same providence of God for the work he hath in hand, receiveth not fashion presently upon the conception, but remaineth for a time without any figure or lineaments, or proportion, and show of a human body, or of any member thereof. The natural Philosophers and Physicians, who have searched most carefully into this work, and have had greatest experience, they say that there are certain membranes and skins that are wrapped round about the infant in the womb, which some commonly call the Matrix, others call the Mother: and that within these skins (which are three in number as some Anatomists say, others but two) as it were within certain bands, the fruit is preserved until the birth. An argumont of the providence of God. Wherein we are to acknowledge the providence of GOD, who hath so disposed of nature, that even from our mother's womb, she is in stead of a mother to us, folding us up within bands before she that hath conceived us can perform the same. But let us proceed on with our matter, so far forth as we have learned of the fashion of the child in the discourse of Philosophers and Physicians. They say then, that after the womb hath received the seeds joined together, of both which the child is to be framed, it cometh to pass that the heat of the Matrix warmeth all this matter as it were in a little furnace, and so raiseth a skin over it which being as it were roasted by little and little, waxeth crusty and hard round about the seed. Of the form of an infant. This causeth the whole matter to resemble an egg, by reason that this skin compasseth about the seed, which boileth inwardly through the abundance of natural spirits that are within it. Of the Afterburthen. This is that skin which is commonly called the Secundine, or Afterburthen, being joined on every side to the womb, by reason of a great number of Orifices, veins and arteries reaching thereunto, to the end that by them the blood, spirits, and nourishment should be conveyed to the infant. For as the whole womb embraceth the seed, so likewise it heateth and nourisheth the same. Therefore this skin that serveth in stead of little bands hath two uses: the first is to take fast hold of the womb: the other, to serve for the nourishment of the burden, and of the child. For this cause there are two veins and two arteries in it (besides a passage in the midst) which are as it were the roots of the burden, and make the Navel. This work with other circumstances belonging thereunto, The first six days work from the conception. which we omit for brevity sake, is brought to pass the first six days of the conception. After this skin, they that make three, speak of a second skin that is in the midst, which they say was created to receive the urine of the child, which in the former months is voided by the Navel, and in the latter months by the ordinary passage. This voiding place is ordained to this end, that the urine might not fret and rend in sunder the tender skin of the infant, who is therefore covered with a third skin next to the other, and that is very tender. So that the urine toucheth not the infant, but is voided by the middle way, as I have already declared. Thus you see the beginning of the conception, before the burden be wholly form like to an infant. Whereunto that saying of the Prophet hath relation: Psal. 139. 16. Thine eyes (sayeth he) did see me when I was without form: for in thy book were all things written, which in continuance were fashioned, when there was none of them before. Then he compareth the secret parts serving for generation, especially the belly, and womb of the woman, unto the earth, and to an obscure, secret and hid place, even to deep and dark caves in the ground. For as the earth having received the seed in which is the vigour, keepeth, cherisheth, & increaseth the same: even so fareth it with the womb and with the mother. On the other side, as these parts are lowest in regard of the trunk of the body, and of all the receptacles and vessels thereof, so are they very secret and hidden, and as it were in the midst and centre of the body, if the whole be considered together, namely the trunk with both ends thereof. For this cause the work that is there wrought by God, is so much the more marvelous, because even in that obscure place, it receiveth the goodliest and most perfect form that can be imagined. And who will not be abashed to consider, that out of that slimy seed of man there should come bones, sinews, flesh, skin, and such like things so divers one from another? But yet it is a far greater marvel to see all this great diversity of matter, to be framed in so many sundry members, and of so many sundry forms, and that with such excellent beauty, so profitable and so fit for those offices that are assigned unto them, as we have learned in our former discourses. Now as God did not create all creatures in one day, although he could well have done it, if it had so pleased him, so doth he in the generation of men. For albeit that the members are fashioned all at once, All the members receive their form together. so that not one of them is framed before another, nevertheless because there is great variety betwixt them, both in respect of their dignity, and of their strength, nature their mother doth not set them forward all alike. For in displaying her power generally towards all the parts of the body, it cometh to pass, that her work, and the figure given unto it, appeareth sooner or later in some members more than in others. Hereof it is that the greatest and chiefest members appear naturally before the rest, albeit they are not the first that are fashioned. So likewise all the members are not beautified and made perfect at the same time, but some after others, according as they have heat and nourishment. Nature therefore observeth this order, that the worthiest parts and such as have in them the beginning of motion, show themselves first, and then those members that are profitable, and serviceable to the former, and are created for their cause. And according to this order the highest parts are seen sooner than the lowest, and those within before them without, and they that receive their substance from the seed before those that have it from blood. These also amongst them that are most excellent are first, notwithstanding many times they have their accomplishment and perfection after the other, as it appeareth in the Navel. The navel first made perfect. For although the heart, liver, and brain, being the chiefest parts of the body, have their beginning before that, yet is it the first amongst them all that appeareth perfect. Now then after the Navil with his pipe or passage is form and fashioned within the first six days, the blood and spirit are next drawn by those veins and arteries, whereof we spoke even now, to be sent to the seed, and mingled therewith, that the principal members might be figured, as the liver, the heart, and the brain, which begin first like to little bladders, and so consequently the rest which are fashioned by little and little according as they receive nourishment. For the veins whereby the burden is nourished, may well be likened to small roots, whereby plants are cherished: as also the burden itself may be compared unto plants in this point, as we have already learned. So that the seed receiving this form already spoken of in the first six days, during which time it is called by no other name then seed, nine days after that the blood is drawn thither, of which the liver and the heart receive their form: so that after twelve days added to the former, a man may discern the lineaments and proportion of these two members, and also of the brain, albeit they are not then altogether fashioned. At this time the burden is called Faetus of the Latins, When the seed is called Embryon. and Embryon of the Greeks', which is as much in our language as Sprouting or Budding. Next after this, within the space of other eighteen days, all the other members are fashioned and distinguished. So that about five and forty days after the conception, the members receive their perfect fashion: and then doth the burden begin to live not only as plants live, When the burden is called a child or infant. but also as other living creatures. For it hath sense & feeling about the six and thirtieth day, and from that time forward it is called an infant. But as yet it is void of motion. For by and by after it is form, it is very tender, until that by virtue of the heat it waxeth more dry and firm, which is by reason that the moisture, whereby it is made so soft and tender, consumeth away by little and little, so that the nails begin to take root at the finger's ends, and the hairs in the head. When the child f●●st moveth. Now after the child is come to the third month if it be a male, or to the fourth if it be a female, it beginneth to stir itself according to the testimony of Hypocrates, because than his bones are more firm and somewhat harder. But this is not always alike in all women with child. For there are some that always feel it stir about the two and fortieth day, others never feel the same until the midst of the time from the conception to the birth. Yea in the same woman the same time and order is not always observed. For according to the strength and good complexion of the child, and the nature and disposition of the mother, these things change, and not only because of the sex. Nevertheless it is most ordinary and usual for male children to move within three months or thereabouts, as likewise to be borne at the ninth month: whereas females are commonly somewhat slower both in stirring and also at their birth, the reason whereof is this, because male children are naturally a great deal more hot then females. Galens' opinion of the birth of sons. Galen attributeth the cause of the generation of sons to the strength and heat of the seed, and saith that they are carried on the right side of the womb, as the daughters on the left, which is the colder side, as being farthest removed from the liver. He yieldeth also this reason why some children are more like the father, and some the mother, because of the greater strength of seed which they have either from the one, or from the other. And when it cometh to pass, that the womb receiveth seed at two sundry passages which it hath, then are twins engendered either at one conception or at twain, so that the later be not long after the former, according to the opinion of the Philosophers, and namely of Aristotle, who rehearseth many examples thereof in his seventh book of the history of living creatures, saying that a whore was delivered of two children, whereof the one was like the father, and the other like the adulterer. But now we are to consider of the childbirth, which is as wonderful a work of God in nature as any other. It belongeth then to thee, ACHITOB, to end this days work by a discourse tending to this purpose. Of Childbirth, and the natural causes thereof: of the great providence of God appearing therein: of the image of our eternal nativity represented unto us in our mortal birth. Chap. 72. ACHITOB. Men are of that nature, that they cannot acknowledge what they are themselves, or what they have received of God, except they be brought back to that first dust and earth, out of which they are taken, even to their first creation and generation. Therefore the holy spirit doth esteem it a thing not unworthy his divine majesty often to instruct and to admonish us by his word, The word profitable for all. and that so plainly and familiarly, as no man, be he never so skilful or so ignorant, but he may greatly profit in this school, at leastwise be made altogether inexcusable, if he learn not that which the spirit doth there teach him. For concerning them that are most ignorant, he speaketh very plainly to be understood of them, propounding that unto them whereof they cannot be ignorant, although they would, at leastwise which they cannot easily know. And as for the skilfuller sort, who by their knowledge are able to understand more than others, they are so much the more guilty, if they will not give credit to the works of God, as they are propounded unto us in the holy scriptures. For what idol of nature soever they frame to themselves, yet must they always come to this first beginning of man, which is clean contrary to the reason of human sense and understanding, and so give glory unto God: otherwise the fruit of all their study will be nothing else but confusion and ignorance. Now the more we consider of the daily generation of men, the more like we shall find it in all admiration to their first original and creation. For who could ever, I say not believe, but only think or imagine, that out of pressed milk and cruds as it were, such as the beginning of man seemeth to be, there could proceed any living creature at all, especially such an image of God as man is? And yet we see this daily come to pass. Now from whence cometh this milk? We cannot for shame speak it without blushing. So that if the work and providence of God be wonderful in the conception and fashioning of man, Man's birth a wonderful work of God. and in the life and preservation he affordeth him in his Mother's belly, as we have showed heretofore, surely it is no less admirable in his nativity and birth, as we may now understand. We have already heard, how by the faculties and powers of the soul, and generative virtue thereof, the seed is retained and preserved, How the child is nourished in the womb. and how the child is form thereof in the womb. Now all this while it is nourished by blood, which is drawn unto it by the veins of the navel ordained to that end: and therefore also the issue of this blood commonly ceaseth in women with child, as that which is then divided into three parts. For the child draweth the purest thereof to itself, and is therewithal nourished. Secondly the womb by veins leading directly to the breasts, sendeth that part which is less pure, whereof the milk is prepared that feedeth the child after it is borne. The third part which is the worst, stayeth still in the womb, and so soon as the child is borne, it issueth forth also. This food which the child receiveth thus in the womb, caused Galen to allege an ancient sentence out of Athenaeus, saying, That the child receiveth more from the mother then from the father, even as the plants draw more from the earth than they do from the husbandman. For this menstrual blood first increaseth the seed, and after serveth towards the growth of the members by ministering food unto them. And for this cause this Author teacheth, that naturally the love of the children is very great towards their Mothers, and so of the Mothers towards their children, as also in respect of the exceeding great mixture of their substance. But when the child is now increased and grown so great and strong, that he is well able to move himself, and to receive his food at the mouth, as he is waxen greater, so he must have more store of nourishment than he is able to draw in at the navel. Likewise forasmuch as natural heat is more augmented, he had need of the more air, and to receive it in by respiration and breathing, so far forth as is necessary for his refreshing. The cause of childbirth. Whereupon the child stirreth and moveth with greater strength and violence, so that it breaketh the skins & bands wherein it was wrapped, and some veins also, and so maketh an issue and way for itself, as that which cannot any longer be kept in the womb. Now when the child feeleth that air entering in which it desireth and seeketh, for the reason before alleged, it moveth itself towards the mouth of the womb; Which is the easiest kind of childbirth. which is the most natural and easy way of birth, by reason that it is borne with the head forward. Now so soon as it is come into the light it crieth, as if it did prognosticate and foretell of the miseries of that life into which it is entered. The Philosophers and Physicians refer the cause of this weeping to that motion which driveth it to the birth, Why children cry when they are borne. as also to those handle and touchings wherewith it is received, which cannot be without some sense of grief conceived by this little tender body. Which body so long as it is in the womb, is bowed round as it were in a lump, so that the heels of it join to the buttocks, and the hands lay fast hold of the knees, towards which it doth bow down the head so low, that the eyes are joined to the thumbs as if they were fastened to them, and the nose is thrust down between the knees. Now when it hath attained to the ninth month, so that it may no longer tarry there, for the reasons before mentioned, it turneth itself in the womb, first with the head downward, and stretching out the legs and other members upward. Then when the hour of childbirth approacheth, the babe by kicking and turning itself more violently, maketh many ruptures by little and little, so that the skins wherein both the Urine and the sweat are contained bursting asunder, whole streams gush out, which show that the birth is hard at hand. For presently upon the renting and breach of the Afterburthen through the violence of the child, because there is nothing else that holdeth it up, the babe falleth down, even as an apple or a pear falleth from the tree when it is ripe. And as the child doth his best to come forth at that time which God hath prescribed unto it, so the womb and the mother of the child do their parts as much as lieth in them to perform by the providence of God, A testimony of God's providence in the womb. who hath provided accordingly. For during the space of those nine months wherein the child is contained in the womb, it is shut up, and embraceth the burden as close as it may. And when the time of birth cometh, the womb doth not only open itself by little and little, but all the top of it doth gather itself as close together as it can, and so thrust the babe towards the mouth of it, whereunto also the neighbour parts lend their helping hand. The woman likewise laboureth, and helpeth as much as she is able; and the child falling downward with his head turned towards the mouth of the womb, maketh way for all the rest of his body, and so casteth itself forth, at whose issuing out, the humour wherewithal it was before abundantly moistened, helpeth very much, by reason that both the child's body, and the way also is thereby made more gliding and slippery. Wherein we have a great argument of God's providence to be observed. For the child's head being of a round fashion, his coming forth cannot be so hindered, as we see it is when the child offereth itself cross-wise, or when the arms or legs come forward. Besides, all the rest of the members are greatly benefited hereby, both because the way is already made before them, as also because themselves are thereby the better placed to prevent all impediments with which otherwise they might encounter. For we see by experience what inconveniences fall out in childbirths, in what dangers the mothers & children are, & how often the death of the one or the other, or of both ensueth, when the child cometh otherwise then by this order, which is most natural & most ordinary. Wherefore women with child have great occasion offered to recommend themselves unto God, especially at that time. For howsoever the child cometh, we must then acknowledge the almighty hand of God, & his help & assistance both towards the mothers & their children. For let there be never so good concord and agreement in the joint-labour of the child, of the mother, & of the womb, yet the work being so difficult, who will not wonder that ever it could be borne? Who would ever believe that a child should come forth, or that it could be drawn out of the mother's belly, without cleaving the same asunder in the midst, or without the death of the one of them if not of both, but that we see the experience thereof daily before our eyes? Galen, Gal. de vs● 〈◊〉. lib. 15. who made such an idol of nature, confesseth that he knoweth not how the child can find any issue and passage out, & therefore wondereth at it very much, Auicenna thinketh that there is an opening of some bones, but he is deceived: for it cannot be so, neither hath experience ever showed the same. An argument against Atheists. Wherefore both Philosophers & Physicians, but especially Epicures & Atheists, must needs be driven into an astonishment at this, & have their mouths stopped & closed up, except they will open them to give glory to God, Psal. 139. 17, 18. & 22. 9 & to acknowledge and magnify his great providence & goodness towards men, singing with David, O God how precious are thy thoughts unto me! how great is the sum of them! If I should count them they are more than the sand. It was thou that didst draw me out of the womb: thou gavest me hope, even at my mother's breasts. But we have here to note, that there are many causes which hasten forward the childbirth, but we speak here of them that are most common & ordinary. Children that are borne at the sixth month or sooner, live not, as not having then their whole perfection. They that are borne in the seventh month may live, for than is the fruit perfect. And yet they that are borne at the eight month, commonly die: and the reason is, because the child stirreth very much in the seventh month, preparing itself for the birth. So that if the child be of a strong nature it cometh them into the light: but if it be yet weak, it cannot come forth, but tarrieth two months longer in the womb to gather new strength. For it removeth from the one side of the womb to the other. Therefore when the child after the seventh month is presently borne in the eight, it cannot live. For nature was weak in the first endeavour: neither could it be to purpose, before the matter receiveth motion after the critical time, with which name the Philosophers call the seventh month. Moreover, double motion weakeneth the strength of the child. For it had removed unto the other side of the womb as is said, & presently after it came into the light: but the nature of the child cannot sustain two brunts one in the neck of another, so that death followeth thereupon. The Astrologians likewise allege these reasons why the seventh month is critical, namely, either because the sun is carried into a sign that is opposite to the sign of conception: or else because every planet answering his several month, the eight month is given to Saturn, who is an enemy to them that are borne. Two things to be considered of in our birth. Now for the end of this matter, we will consider two things in our generation & birth, which offer unto us great cause both of humility and of spiritual joy. First then we see how God would have us humbled in our generation, by creating us of a matter that is but slime and dung, whereunto notwithstanding he hath given such an excellent and goodly form, to the end that his powerful virtue, wisdom, justice, and kindness should be so much the better manifested unto us, and that in ourselves, so that we shall not need to seek for testimonies thereof elsewhere. So that as our beginning ought to take out of our heart all swelling and pride, even so the form and beauty wherewithal God hath honoured this mire of which he hath made men, and the great graces which he hath communicated with them, especially in regard of the soul which he hath joined to the body ought to teach us to acknowledge and to celebrate incessantly his providence and great goodness towards us. To conclude, we ought to consider the image and similitude we have of our eternal nativity in this our mortal birth, What similitude there is between our spiritual and our natural birth. and that birth whereby we are borne unto an immortal life, as here on earth we are borne to enjoy a life that is subject to mortality. For first, as man is form and fashioned in dark places in the belly of his mother, that afterward he might come forth and enjoy the light of the world: so likewise being come hither, he is after a manner so upon the earth, as if he were to be borne again. For this world is unto him as his mother's womb, wherein the light is to him as darkness and as a very obscure night, in comparison of that other divine and eternal light, in which he is to enjoy a happy and an immortal life. And therefore as the child is prepared in the darkness of his mother's belly, that after he may come forth into the light of the world, so are we prepared in this dim light, that we may attain to that other divine light, which is far greater and more excellent without comparison. Again, when the time of birth approacheth, the life and vigour of the womb, which is as it were the child's mother, withereth and decayeth, and the child likewise is as if he were dead, in regard of that kind of life which he enjoyed in his mother's belly. For as he liveth no more after that fashion, so he is in an estate that differeth much from the former. So fareth it with man when he is to departed out of the life of this world, as if he were to be delivered of it in childbirth for another life. For he dieth in regard of this life, to the end he may live another life, which as far excelleth this, as this is better than the other, which he enjoyed before in his mother's belly: yea it is so much the better & of higher price, in that the length of time of this second and blessed life shallbe eternal and endless. Moreover, as a child cometh out when he is borne, so doth a man when he dieth. And in coming forth both of them enter into a new and unacquainted light, & into a place where they find all things much altered and far differing from those which they used to have in their other kind of living. For which cause both the one & the other being troubled and scared with this novelty, are unwilling to come forth of their clapper & to forsake their closet, were it not that they are urged & constrained thereunto by the art, laws & rights of nature, whereby God hath better provided for our affairs then we ourselves could conceive or comprehend, both in our nativity & life, & also in our death. The ignorance whereof causeth our spirit to abhor the departure out of this life, Why we abhor natural death. in regard of this great change that is therein, because it knoweth not what good is brought to it thereby, no more than the little child knoweth wherefore he is borne into the world, or what he shall find there. And therefore albeit nature presseth to come forth nevertheless according to that sense which it can have, it weary by and by after it is borne, as if it were fallen into some great inconvenience, and that some great evil were fallen unto it: as we do also at our death, for the cause before alleged, not considering that it is our second and better birth▪ Thus you see what I have thought requisite to be noted in the discourse of our generation: and to morrow, God willing, we must look into the life and death of man's body. But it shall not be without profit, if first we speak somewhat of the causes why God created man naked, and with less defence for himself then he did other living creatures. It belongeth then to thee, ASER, to speak of this matter. The end of the ninth days work. THE TENTH days work. Why God created man naked, and with less natural defence than he did all other living creatures: how many ways he recompenseth this nakedness: of the general beauty of the whole body of man, joined with profit and commodity. Chap. 73. ASER. As often as men shall consider in such sort as becometh them, that they are borne men, and not brute beasts, they willbe suffciently admonished of the civil and sociable nature, in which God hath created them, & of that humanity for which he hath endued them with such a nature, so that they will keep themselves from being transformed into savage & cruel beasts to hurt one another, as commonly they do. Truly it is not without some great and notable cause, that among all living creatures there is not one to be found, that hath a more delicate & tender skin, & less furnished with coverings for the defence thereof, then man hath: considering that God himself created him as his principal work amongst all visible creatures, and made him as it were Lord of the whole world. And yet he is of that nature, that the skin wherewith he is clothed is not so sufficient a garment for him as is necessary to keep him from heat & cold, & from other inconveniences that might happen unto him, except he be clad with some other covering then that which he bringeth from his mother's belly. For he neither hath feathers as birds have, nor wool as sheep have, nor bristles as swine have, neither yet any skin or hide so hard, nor so well covered and furnished with hair, as foxes, wolves, bears, bulls and other four footed beasts have. Neither hath he any scales as fishes have, nor any shells as cockles, sea crevices, tortoises, and such other creatures have. The first point to be considered touching man's nakedness. But we have four things to consider of touching this point. The first is, that if man had not sinned after that God by creation had in great largesse made him partaker of his heavenly gifts and graces, he should not have been subject to the want either of garments, or of any such like thing whereunto he is now after a sort brought in subjection, at leastwise he should have had all these things without pain and grief. For this cause it is said in Genesis, that after our first parents had transgressed the ordinance of God, by eating of the forbidden fruit, they knew that they were naked and covered themselves with leaves. And for a punishment of their offence it was said unto them, Gen. 3. 19 that they should eat their bread in the sweat of their face: under which word of bread was comprehended all things whereof they stood in need for the maintenance & preservation of their life: as we understand it in that prayer which we daily make to God, when we demand of him our daily bread. The second point. The second point which we ought to note in this matter touching the nakedness of man, is this, that God would admonish him, not only by the whole frame and composition of his body and of all his members, but also by his very skin, that he created him to live in company and fellowship, and in peace with those of his own kind, to help all and to hurt none. Therefore he did not create him with natural weapons, as he did other living creatures, unto whom he gave all things necessary for their defence & preservation. For some of them have strength and weapons by nature to resist their enemies: others wanting this have swiftness to convey themselves out of all dangers: and some wanting both these, have yet subtlety & places of refuge to defend themselves withal. As for man, God hath placed him in this world unarmed and naked, so that if men be disposed to hurt and to war one upon another, Man by nature hath least defence for himself. they must deform themselves, and borrow weapons from others, whereby they transform themselves & become monstrous, as though they were transfigured into savage beasts & into monsters. For they have not (as hath been said) hard & strong hides as some brute beasts have, neither prickles & darts in them as Hedgehogs and Porcupines have. Neither are their feet, hands & nails like to the hooves of Horses, Asses, & Mules, or to the talents of birds that live by pray, or to the paws of wild beasts, neither yet are their teeth like to theirs. God hath not given them sharp bills like to birds, neither hath he armed them with stings or with venom, as he hath done venomous beasts. True it is that man hath an advantage above other living creatures, namely his hands given him of God for the doing of any work that he will, A commendation of the hand of man. as we have already declared. Wherefore if he be to fight against beasts, his hand will furnish him with more weapons, then all theirs are, which they have by nature, although they be put all together. For he can not only make weapons of all sorts, but handle them also, & manage them as pleaseth him in his own defence, both against beasts, as likewise against those of his own kind. And I would to God he used them but in his own defence, and did not abuse them as he doth to his own hurt very unnaturally. The third point. But let us proceed forward and come to the third cause, why God hath thus created man all naked: which is, that he would admonish him thereby of his natural infirmity, in regard of those wants and necessities that hem him in on every side, unto which he is more subject than any other creature. Which instruction ought to work two things especially in him: A double use to be made of our wants. first, it ought to induce and move him to that peaceable and sociable life with his kind, for the which God created him. Secondly, by this means he is the more bound to acknowledge the providence, bounty & liberality of God towards him, whereby he bringeth to pass, that the necessity and want, which seemeth to be greater in man then in any other living creature, declareth him to be the richest, and best provided for, yea to be Lord of all. For all the garments of beasts of what quality soever they be, and whatsoever else they possess, belong to him. Whereas if men were not subject to such necessities as are incident unto them, what use should they have of so many creatures as God hath created for them? or what service should they have of their hands? For here again we see how that by them he provideth for their garments, by setting on work the skins, wools & hairs of all other living creatures, besides the silks of worms, and other matter which the fruits of the earth afford unto them, as flax, hemp & such like. And if necessity did not teach them the use of all these things, how would they consider the power, wisdom, goodness and providence of God in his works, & in his creatures, to praise him & to give him thanks? For although they have necessity & want for their schoolemistres, to the end they might learn this science in their school, yet do they profit very little thereby, but rather become most ingrateful towards God their Creator, who is so bountiful and liberal a father towards them. Whereupon we have further to note, that God hath not given to men many things belonging particularly to beasts, because he hath enriched them with so many other things, of which all other creatures are altogether destitute. For besides the help he hath of the composition and placing of those members, which he hath given to their bodies, being so convenient to perform that which beasts cannot do with theirs, Wherein men excel all other living creatures. he hath endued them with speech and reason, whereby, not only all that is in other creatures which is not in them, is more than recompensed, but they have more in them, than all other living creatures have being put together. For albeit they have no feathers & wings to fly and mount aloft by as birds have, yet how many means have they to ascend and to descend to go & to come whither they will? And as for swiftness and nimbleness, how many beasts are there with whose swiftness they may help themselves? And although they have not fins whereby to swim in the sea, & in waters like fishes, yet they have skill & hands, whereby they can make & guide ships, and so convey themselves whither they wil Now as for strength which they want to carry heavy burdens afar off, how many ways is it recompensed both by land & by water, and that by means aswell of beasts whose service they use, as of arts & sciences wherein they are skilful? When by we see that God hath put more within a man, namely in the sense & understanding wherewith he hath endued him, The fourth point. than he hath put without in all beasts. Concerning the fourth point of which I have to speak touching this matter, it is this, that as it pleased God to give unto man a far more excellent body for beauty than he did to any other living creature, so he would have this beauty also to appear in all the parts thereof. For first this body, was not fashioned, either to fly in the air as birds do, or to glide upon the earth, & to draw itself upon the belly as creeping things do, nor to march upon all four as fourfooted beasts do, nor with the head bending downward as theirs is, but to stand and go upright with the head lifted upwards towards heaven, to the end he might be admonished, that his true beginning & birth came higher than from the earth, & from other corruptible elements, What we ought to learn by the proportion of our bodies. namely from heaven. He is also admonished hereby, that he is not borne to serve his belly as brute beasts do, & to follow after gluttony, drunkenness, whoredom, & such other carnal & more than brutish pleasures, wherein licentious men commonly observe less moderation than beasts that are altogether without reason and understanding. For although the matter whereof a man's body is compounded, differeth nothing from that whereof the bodies of brute beasts are made, nevertheless seeing it pleased God to lodge within it a soul of a divine and celestial nature, that is far more excellent than all natures and creatures with bodies, he would it should have a lodging agreeable to the nature of it, whereby also man might be admonished of his excellency, and that he was created, not only to look down upon the earth as beasts do, but to lift up his eyes unto heaven, and to behold therein the high works of God his Creator, and to do the like in the residue of the whole world. For as we have heard, man is not properly this body which we see, What man is? but chief the soul and spirit which we see not, and which hath the body for his lodging. So that if we consider both the house and the inhabitant, we shall see that the things given of God to beasts and denied to men, do bring great beauty both to beasts because they have them, and to men because they have them not. For if the beasts were deprived of their armour and natural ornaments, they should lose all their beauty and profit that redoundeth unto them: as likewise man should be deformed an ugly, if in any sort he were made partaker of that which is proper & agreeable to other creatures. But because God hath created man so that he might be eternal and immortal, he hath armed him inwardly, even in that part that shallbe the means unto him of eternal life. Neither would he cloth him with natural garments, nor arm him with corporal weapons, both because that had been superfluous having given unto him that which is far better, as also because his beauty had been thereby much diminished, and his spirit should not have been so well known as now it is, by means of that skill and of those arts of which God hath made it capable. For what could he invent and do, and wherein should he show that natural light and dexterity that is in him, if nature had furnished him with all those things, wherewith his reason given unto him, is able to enrich him? But to conclude our speech, having spoken sufficiently of the creation, generation, and birth of man, let us look into this beauty that is in the form and figure of man's body, by calling to remembrance our former discourses. And let us know, that both for the matter, & also for the form and composition thereof, there is not the like work in all the world, none so goodly, The excellent frame of man's body. so proper, nor so well united & knit together: none so well proportioned & polished in every respect, & in every part thereof. So that when we consider thereof from one end of it unto the other, we shall find that the workmaster that made this body, hath throughout the whole work joined beauty and profit together. But there is yet another excellency worthy of great admiration, in that he hath not only beautified this body with so goodly a shape as we see it hath, but hath also endued it with virtue and ability to make other bodies altogether like itself, as we heard yesterday. Wherefore men show indeed, Who they be that know not themselves. that they know nothing of the excellency of their nature, and that they have altogether forgotten or at leastwise very ill considered of that instruction, which God hath given them by the composition of their bodies, but principally by the soul that is lodged therein, if despising celestial and eternal things for which they are created, they affect, and seek after earthly and transitory things, preferring the earth before heaven, as commonly they do. Which is all one as if they declared openly, that they are displeased that God hath made them men, and not beasts ramping on the earth, or marching upon all four, and turning their snout always downward, because they have nothing in them that savoureth of a divine and celestial nature as man hath: and so they deal no otherwise then as if they would reproach God for that honour, which he hath bestowed upon them, by creating them differing from brute beasts, unto whom notwithstanding they had rather be like. But enough is spoken of this matter. And seeing we may be sufficiently instructed by all our former discourses, what are those principal parts, powers and offices of the soul, I mean the animal vital and natural virtues, as also what instruments they have in man's body, let us now look into the life and death thereof, and consider more narrowly than hitherto we have done, what are the causes both of the one and the other. Whether the life of the body can proceed either of the matter, or of the composition, form, and figure, or of the qualities thereof, or else of the harmony, conjunction and agreement of all these: whether any of these or all of them together can be the soul: of the length and shortness, of the divers degrees and ages, and of the end of man's life: of death, and of the causes both of life and death: of the difference that is between natural and supernatural Philosophy in the consideration of things. Chap. 74. AMANA. jesus Christ purposing to teach us, that we cannot have life but in him, & by him, who is the life, and who hath the words of eternal life, joh. 15. 1, 2, 3, 4. compareth himself to a Vine, & his disciples unto Branches. For as the branch hath life & vigour, and beareth fruit, so long as it remaineth in the vine, & receiveth nourishment from thence, so if it receiveth no sap from thence, or if it be cut off, it withereth and dieth. We may say the same of the members of the body, if the soul be not in every one of them, and if it give not life, virtue, and vigour to them all for the performance of their offices. For if it fall out so, that it withdraweth itself altogether from any one part of the body, that part is without life: as we see by experience in a member dried up, or putrefied, or cut off from the body. And so is it with the whole body, when the soul is separated from it. But we are to handle this matter more at large. By our former discourses we may learn the nature both of the soul and of the body, what is that union and conjunction which they have together, albeit their natures, substances, and essences are divers and very different: also we have learned that the one of them, namely the spiritual essence, is a great deal more excellent than the other, which is corporal. The soul proceedeth not of the matter. Wherefore we may well conclude, that the life in the body proceedeth not of the matter whereof it is made, nor of the qualities joined unto it, nor yet of the composition form and figure thereof. For if the life and soul were in the matter of the body, the larger and greater men's bodies were, and the more matter they had in them, the more life and soul, the more wit, spirit and understanding should be in them. But we see by experience that it is far otherwise, and that there is no more life & soul in a great body then in a little. And if it were so that the life proceeded from the matter, a dead body should be as well a man, Nor of the qualities. as a living body. We may say the same both of the qualities joined to the matter according to the nature of the elements, as also of that conformation and agreement that is between all the members both within and without: And as for the harmony conjunction and concord that floweth from the diversity of these qualities, Nor of the harmony. and from their temperature, it may be increased and diminished. Wherefore that cannot be the effect of nature, which causeth a thing to be that which it is, and giveth unto the same thing his form and kind, that continueth always in his estate and natural disposition. For if it were otherwise, the nature of kinds might be changed, which never any of the Philosophers did so much as imagine, Nor of the composition of the body. or think to affirm. And as for the composition and figure of the body, there is yet less reason to say it cometh from thence, forasmuch as that continueth the same in a dead body which it was in a living. Again, those living creatures, that resemble most the nature and form of the members of man's body, and the matter thereof, are oftentimes farther off from the nature of human sense and understanding, than they that do less resemble them. Which we may easily know by considering the natures of a Hog and of an Elephant. The nature of a Hog. And of an Elephant. For they that through want and famine have been constrained to eat man's flesh, have testified that no flesh or meat whatsoever approacheth nearer in taste, or is more like it then the flesh of a Hog. And if we consider the inward members and parts, there is no beast, if we will give credit to them that have had the experience thereof, that hath them liker to those in man, than the Hog hath, both for substance, disposition, form and figure. Contrariwise, wherein doth the Elephant resemble man either for form or composition of body, or of the members both internal and external, in comparison of a Hog? And yet there is no beast more teachable than the Elephant, or that approacheth nearer to the sense and understanding of man: as on the other side there is no beast further off in this respect, nor more hard to be taught and more brutish, then is the Hog. And if any man think that the industry and docility of an Elephant proceedeth, either from the greatness of the matter whereof it is made, or from the abundance of the qualities joined unto the matter, or from the harmony, conjunction and concord that is between them, or lastly, from the composition, form & figure of his body and of the members thereof, we will oppose unto him the Ant, which is one of the least among the creatures of the earth, as the Elephant is the greatest of all, as far as we know. The like may be said of the Bee. For, are there many creatures although greater in substance, that yet have such industrious & ingenious natures, as these little beasts have, that are to be reckoned among the smallest of them? And by this it appeareth plainly, The soul of a beast differeth from the substance and nature of his body. that the soul of beasts is of some other substance & nature then their bodies, notwithstanding there is great difference betwixt the soul of beasts & the soul of men. But we have further to note touching the soul of man, that the spirit doth not only not follow the nature of the body, but which is more, governeth, carrieth & recarieth it whither it pleaseth: yea, it withstandeth the affections, which approach nearest to the corporal & terrestrial nature. The faculty of sense cometh not from the body. And as for the faculty of sense & of the senses, it is a virtue that surpasseth all bodily power and virtue, & all things depending of the body, so that there is no faculty of the body that is able to express the actions thereof. What shall we say then of the virtue of understanding, which is the highest and most sovereign faculty that is in man? Which we cannot say is a body compounded of matter and form. For that thing is the fountain and original of life, which first moveth a living creature to the works belonging unto life. So that when we inquire what this fountain and spring is, then do we seek to know what the soul is. Now we may soon know by that which hath been spoken, what the soul is not: but as yet we cannot perceive what the proper substance and nature thereof is. And in deed it is not that which we have to speak of at this time, hereafter we may say somewhat of that matter. Let it suffice for this present, The cause of the life of the body. that we know that the true cause of the life of the body, in regard of second causes, is in the soul next unto God, who is the first and principal cause of all things. Therefore it is he that hath ordained and limited to every living creature his appointed time wherein to live and to grow, and next to decrease and to die: and as it pleaseth him either to prolong or to abridge their life, so doth he dispose of the second causes and means whereby he will have it brought to pass. Wherefore although every one hath his certain bounds and term of life set him, yet none but God only can attain to the knowledge thereof. For all come not to the last age, which he hath appointed to be the ordinary end of every one's life, following those degrees into which it is divided, The degrees of man's age. according to that division which we make of days and years. For the infancy of man may be resembled to the morning, and to the spring time of the year: man's age to midday and to the summer: old-age to the Evening and to Autumn: and death to night and to winter. Therefore job saith very well, job 14. 5. speaking of man, the number of his months are with thee: thou hast appointed his bounds, which he cannot pass. Now if it be demanded what is the ordinary term of life appointed by God, we are to know, that nature by the ordinance of God appropriateth the matter being in the form of members, unto the soul, that is, to give life unto the whole body. Now when the soul is entered into it and hath taken possession thereof, The cause of the length and shortness of life. by little and little it prepareth and maketh fit the internal instruments, until at length it hath brought them to that perfection, which the quality, constitution and composition of the matter is able to receive and to bear. And after these instruments are come to their greatest perfection, by usage they waste and consume away, returning by little and little unto their first nature, & so in the end wholly corrupt and die. Thus you see how the members are appropriated in the belly of the mother, how the spirits and humours are fitted in the time of infancy: after which the flower of age in youth is as it were the vigour and use of the perfection of the instruments, and old-age is the decreasing age, wherein they decay continually & become worse and worse, even until they come to their corruption, which is death. And this death we call natural, What natural death is. when following this course it attaineth without violence to these bounds. Now although this be no long course, yet there are but very few that hold out to the uttermost end thereof, in regard of them that stay by the way: of whom some are cut off, even before they have begun their course, others presently after they have begun it, and some in the midway: and that through so many sorts of sicknesses with other inconveniences and accidents, that a man cannot possibly comprehend or conceive them all. Therefore Moses said long since, Psal 90. 10. that the time of our life is threescore years and ten, and if they be of strength, four score years: yet their strength is but labour and sorrow: for it is cut off quickly, and we flee away. And after he hath compared man to a stream of water carried violently away, to a Morning dream, to the grass that flourisheth and groweth in the Morning, and in the Evening is cut down & withereth, he giveth the reason of all this, saying, Psal. 7. 8, 9 for we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled. Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, and our secret sins in the light of thy countenance: for all our days are passed in thine anger: we have spent our years as a thought. job also agreeth well with Moses in this point when he sayeth, job 14. 1, 2. Man that is borne of a woman, is of short continuance, and full of trouble. He shooteth forth as a flower, and is cut down, he vanisheth also as a shadow, and continueth not. Now it is certain, that if we look to the causes of the life & death of men laid down by us, we shall think that all this is done naturally, & that there is a certain order of nature, unto which we must all be subject, and a natural necessity which none can eschew. But we see that Moses mounteth aloft, and searcheth higher for the cause: for he seekth it in God and in his determination, yea in his wrath conceived against our sins. Therefore the children and servants of God, that have been instructed in his word, do not only consider of that in death, which profane men behold there: but they mount up even to this highest cause, and behold there the wrath of God against sin, & against all mankind for the same. So that we may know by that which hath been said, Of the true difference between natural and divine Philosophy. what difference there is between human and natural Philosophy, and that which is divine and supernatural: and wherein they deceive themselves, that stay altogether in natural philosophy. And hereby also we may learn the cause why so many become Atheists and Epicures thereby, The cause of so many Atheists. whereas it should serve them in place of steps and degrees to cause them to ascend up to that Philosophy that is supernatural and heavenly. For their noses are altogether poring in this base kitchen, of which we have entreated in our former discourses: as though God had not created men for another life and end than he hath done beasts. Whereupon we may imagine, what true joy and consolation they can have, I say not only in death, but also throughout their whole life, seeing their life, will they nill they, must pass through so many dangers and miseries. For whether they will or no, they must be subject to this sentence passed from God against all mankind, in the person of our first parents, Gen. 3. 17, 18. when he said to Adam, Cursed is the earth for thy sake: in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life. Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee, and thou shalt eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return to the earth: for out of it wast thou taken, because thou art dust & to dust shalt thou return. job 5. 6. Therefore Eliphaz saith in the book of job, that misery proceedeth not out of the dust, & that affliction buddeth not out of the earth. Which is as much to say, The cause of barrenness. as that the cause of barrenness of ground proceedeth not from the earth, but from the sin of man. Wherefore men cannot lay the blame upon any other beside themselves, as being the cause of all the evils which they suffer, because they bear the matter of them in themselves. Now if any think, that this sentence pronounced by God against all mankind is not so much executed upon the wicked that are without God, as upon others, because we see commonly that they are richest, & live in greatest ease, in pleasures & in delights, we must know that they are not therefore exempted from those miseries, whereunto the life of man is subject, and which are all comprehended under this sweat of the face mentioned in the holy Scriptures. For there is not one of them to be found, that can so save himself, but that he hath always his part & portion in these things. And if we could consider well the whole course of their life, who seem to be the happiest amongst them, and had the patience to wait until the end of their race, we should still find by experience the truth of that we speak of. But let us go on with our speeches touching the causes of the length and shortness of this bodily life, and of natural death, as also of that which is violent, whereof we have not yet spoken. Also let us consider of the things that are chief required for the upholding of this bodily life, and without which it could not consist. This then shallbe the matter subject, of which thou, ARAM, shalt take upon thee to discourse. Of the causes generally of the length and shortness of bodily life: of natural and of violent death: in what manner the life of man consisteth in his breath: of the principal things required to life, and without which it cannot be: of the difference betwixt the life of men & the life of beasts: of the image of the spiritual death in the corporal: of the true comfort which we ought to have therein. Chap. 75. ARAM. This law was laid upon nature by GOD the Creator thereof, that the things which it should bring forth in this inferior world, should have small beginnings at the first, and after grow by little and little, & when they were come to their full greatness should stand a while at a stay, and then fall by little and little, and return to their original and first beginning: as we see a pattern hereof and an example twice a day in the Ocean sea. For after it is mounted up to the highest, and hath spread itself in length and breadth as much as it may, it returneth again unto the fountain and womb from whence it came, and there closeth up itself. For God hath compassed it with certain bounds beyond which it cannot pass. Nothing abideth still in the same state. So likewise every thing hath his course and set time of continuance: neither do we see any thing under the Moon, either of the works of God, or of the inventions of men, which keepeth not this course. And so is it with the body, which being created by little and little, decayeth after the same manner, as it were by the same degrees by which it mounted upward. And that which we see in every particular body, the same we perceive to be in the whole frame and course of the world, & in all the estates thereof. For the world hath had his infancy, next his youth, than his man's estate, and now he is in his old-age. For we see how all things decline daily, and continually wax worse and worse, as it were approaching to their end. In like manner if we would consider the course and estate of all Commonwealths, Principalities, Kingdoms, and Empires, and of all the greatest and chiefest Monarchies, that ever were from the creation of the world, we should find that all of them were very small and weak in their beginnings, and that afterwards they increased and mounted up until they came to their highest degrees: and after they had attained thither, they descended & fell by little and little continually, until in the end they were wholly ruinated. Now the first causes of all these things proceeding from God and from his eternal counsel, we know that the second causes are in the nature of every thing that hath beginning and must end, and chief in the nature of men's bodies. By our formmer speech we have learned already how this corporal life consisteth in the preservation of those instruments which the soul useth in the body: and that the chiefest of them is heat, the second moisture agreeable to the heat, which must needs have something to feed it and keep it in a moderate stay. Lastly we learned, that the nourishing and cherishing of the heat is the preservation of the moisture: and therefore those living creatures that are best able to maintain and keep these two qualities within themselves, are of longest continuance in life. The cause of the length of life. So that the chief natural cause of the long continuance of life, consisteth in every man's composition, namely if it be hot and moist by due proportion, both in the sinews and in the marrow, in the liquors and humours, and in the spirits. The second cause consisteth in the long continuance of this temperature, which being interrupted and marred by diseases, the instruments of life are thereby also spoiled, & so they failing, life itself must needs cease. Whereupon death ensueth: even as when the instruments and tools of some handicrafts man are worn and fail him, it cannot be but that his art and occupation should also be at an end. So that death is a defect of those instruments of the soul, What death is. whereby life is prolonged. For the soul leaveth the body by reason of the defect of instruments, and not for any disagreement that is between the body and it, as may appear by this, that it was not any proportion or agreement that joined the soul and the body together. For albeit a workman useth his instruments, yet there is no proportion and agreement between him and them, in regard of the matter and form of him and of his tools: unless peradventure this proportion may be imagined 〈◊〉 be between the art of the workman, as he is a workman, and between the aptness of the tool he useth, whereby it is made fit for the doing of that which the workman hath in hand. Seeing then all life consisteth both in heat, as we have already said, and also in moisture requisite for the heat, Natural death. we call that natural death, when heat faileth by reason that the moisture is dried up through the heat that drinketh it up, which heat also in the end vanisheth away, even as a lamp doth when the oil of it is consumed. But that is called a violent death, Violent death. when through some accident, either the moisture is drawn out of the body, or the heat is put out and extinguished either by some inward, or else some outward oppression and violence. Internal violence is either by poison, or by gluttony and drunkenness, or by such excess: as a when a lamp goeth out because there is too much oil powered into it. And if this oppression be done outwardly, it is called external; as when the air and breath that refresheth the heart, is shut up and retained, either in the sharp artery, or in the mouth. For it is as if a fire were suddenly covered and choked by some great heap of stones, or of earth, or of ashes laid upon it. We heard before, that if the Lungs had no respiration by the mouth & nostrils, no man could breathe, but he should be choked by and by: as we see it by experience in them that are strangled. The reason hereof is, because the pipe that reacheth from the Lungs to the throat, Of the windpipe. is so closed up, that it is altogether stopr, or at least so narrow and straight, that there is not space enough for the air and breath to pass in and out by. We see also daily how this windpipe is troubled, if whiles we eat or drink, there fall into it a little crumb of bread, or meat, or else a drop of water or of wine, or of any other drink, yea although it were but a little drop of our own spittle. For the breath that ascendeth up from the lungs by this pipe, will not suffer any other thing to enter in thereat, except it be as subtle and thin as the air is, but it driveth it upward, insomuch as when that happeneth to any man, he is in great pain and as it were stifled for the time. We see the like also in the cough. For from whence proceedeth it but only of those distillations that descend from the brain unto the lungs by this pipe? From whence the cough cometh. And truly the consideration of all this, aught to be unto us in place of an other special testimony of the infirmity of our nature, that we may always learn the better by this to humble ourselves. For what an excellent gift is this life, which God hath given to man? and yet a matter of nothing will deprive him of it. For let his breath only be taken away, which is but a little wind, and behold he is stifled and dead by and by. And for the taking away of his breath, and so of his life withal, there needeth nothing else but the stopping of his mouth and nostrils, or of his windepipe only, which is soon done, and he is dispatched presently without all help and remedy by man. Therefore Esay hath a good speech: depart (saith he) from the man whose breath is in his nostrils: Esay 2. 22. for wherein is he to be esteemed? In a word, his meaning is, that man is but as it were a little wind and blast, as if he had his life in his nostrils, and as if it were as easy a matter to take away his life as his breath. Moreover, the mixture and temperature of all the elementary qualities and of all the humours is so necessary for life, as we have already heard, that if any one be wanting, The blood necessary for life. our life can not continue. But the chiefest and most necessary of all, are heat and moisture placed in the blood, which is so necessary for the maintenance of life, that after it is out of the body death followeth presently. Concerning the members of the body, it hath been told us already, that there are some of them without which the body can not keep life, nor be kept therein, amongst which the heart is the chiefest of all, The difference between the death of beasts and of man. for the reasons, which we have already heard. Now these things standing thus, we must consider what difference there is between the death of bruit beasts, and that of man: namely this, that the soul of beasts perisheth utterly in their death, as doth the vigour of men's senses in the death of man. But the soul of man surviveth after the death of his body, and continueth always in being and in life. For, considering that beasts do in this life all that can be done by them, according to those gifts, which they have received of nature, therefore they live and die here altogether, having nothing bestowed upon them for an other better life. But forasmuch as GOD hath given unto man a divine and immortal spirit, which hath here great impediments and can not well exercise all his offices, it is requisite that it should have an other life wherein it may display all the virtues it hath, and enjoy whatsoever GOD hath prepared for it, even that which is most agreeable and proper to the nature thereof. Wherefore we may say, that the death of man is a separation, or a departure of the soul from the body: wherein GOD propoundeth unto us a perfect image of our separation and departure from him, which cometh by the means of sin. For we see what becometh of the body when the soul is gone from it, and what it is during the time that it is joined therewith. An image of our spiritual death in the bodily. The difference is very great. Let us then propound our soul, as if it were in the place of the body, and imagine that God were instead of the soul in it, as we fee the soul is in the body. Then let us consider what might be the estate of the soul both when it is joined with GOD, and when it is separated from him. For there is greater difference between the soul separated from GOD, then between a body separated from his soul. Forasmuch as there is no body so stinking nor so infected, when it is separated from the soul, as the soul is when it is separated from GOD, if we will compare spiritual things with corporal things. And contrariwise we may judge of the estate thereof when it is joined with God, by the estate of a body joined with his soul, and by that difference which is between a dead body and a quick. Now if we would well consider these things, and compare the corporal death of the body with the spiritual death of the soul, we would abhor sin in greater measure than we do, and be more afraid of it then of any thing that may come unto us. Only sin hurteth the soul. For there is nothing either in heaven or earth, that can hurt us but sin: as in deed nothing can bring damage to us, but that which can hurt the soul. But it is sin only that is able to hurt the soul, because by it those means are taken away from the soul, whereby GOD bestoweth spiritual life upon it. Therefore we ought not to think that bodily death can any way hurt the soul, unless it be in regard of the evil life past. It is true, that seeing GOD hath created man to be of such a nature, as to be compounded of a body and of a soul, and that his true and perfect estate consisteth herein that they should live united and joined together, it is very like that there is some evil in the severing of them asunder, especially if any of them corrupt and perish, and the evil may seem to be doubled, if both of them should corrupt & perish, as many epicures and atheists would have it. For if it be evil to have but half a being, the evil and imperfection is much more, not to be at all, seeing there is nothing more goodly or more excellent then to have a being. And if it be an excellent thing to be, What it is to be well. then to be well, is a far more goodly and excellent thing. For therein consisteth the perfection and absolute felicity of man. Now there is no sound or perfect estate of any man, but only that in which, and for which GOD created him. And although man be fallen from that estate, yet it hath pleased GOD not only to restore him again thereunto by his Son jesus Christ, but also to make it unto him more entire and more perfect, yea much more sure and steadfast than it was in the beginning. For this cause, if besides the benefit of creation we consider also that of regeneration, and of the restoration and repairing of man, we shall find therein ample matter of true and sound consolation against death. A comfort against death. For we know that this tabernacle of our body, which is infirm, faulty, corruptible, frail and tending to putrefaction, shall be destroyed and as it were pulled down, to the end, that afterwards it may be restored unto a perfect, firm, incorruptible and celestial glory. We see that by death we are called back again from a miserable exile, to the end that we may dwell in our country, even in our heavenly country. In a word, we are assured by death to enjoy such a blessed and permanent estate, as the like whereof appeareth no where upon the earth. And if the brute beasts, even the insensible creatures as Saint Paul teacheth us, Rom. 8. 22. as wood and stone, having some sense of their vanity and corruption, do wait for the day of judgement that they may be delivered from the same: shall not we be very miserable, having both some light of nature, and also boasting that we are inspired with the spirit of GOD, if we do not lift up our eyes above this earthly corruption, when the question is concerning our being? Shall we not contemn and disdain the vanity of the world, to aspire after the good being of the immortality to come? Let us know then that we can not find any true and sound consolation without this consideration and hope which is most assured to them that believe in Christ jesus. Therefore they that went not beyond the bounds of natural Philosophy, Natural philosophy affordeth no found comfort against afflictions, or death. could never enjoy any true consolation, either against the miseries of man's life, or against corporal death. And although they believed, that together with the body whatsoever is in man, was extinguished, or otherwise that after the death of the body, the soul remained immortal, yet notwithstanding some have done nothing else but mourn and complain in this life, insomuch as they have laid violent hands, as it were, upon Nature, reviling her and calling her the stepmother rather than the mother of mankind: & others have doubted of their future estate and condition, not being able to learn and know whether their souls should live either in joy and rest, or else in pain & torment, but only by opinion. Of which if we would discourse at large, and consider particularly of their reasons, we should be confirmed more and more in that true consolation, that aught to be in the heart of every Christian against the honour of death. Therefore I greatly desire ACHITOB, to hear thee discoursing upon this matter. Of the chief consolations, which the wisest amongst the Pagans and Infidels could draw from their human reason and natural Philosophy against death: of the blasphemies used by Atheists and Epicures against God and Nature: what Nature is, and who they be that attribute unto it that which they ought to attribute unto God. Chap. 76. ACHITOB. Trees have their seasons, in which they begin to bud and afterwards do blossom: which blossom in convenient time taketh the form and fashion of the fruit, and after that it continueth growing, until it becometh ripe: and being come to the greatest maturity and ripeness that it can have, it falleth down of itself, and still consumeth more and more. The same may be said of leaves. But this happeneth not to all, nor yet altogether after the self same manner to all those unto whom it doth happen. For some fruits perish even in the very bud, or else in the flower: and some after they are come to the fashion of fruit. And of these latter sort, some fade away sooner, some later, according to their sundry accidents. For some are eaten by worms, other by noisome flies, and some through divers kinds of creeping things, which bred in the fruit itself. Again, some are shaken down violently, either through great & mighty showers, huge storms, blustering winds, or else by hail and tempest, being plucked forcibly from the trees before they can come to any ripeness. A profitable contemplation in nature. By all which things God propoundeth unto us, a goodly picture and representation of the whole course of man's life, yea of all estates and conditions of men in the world, both generally and particularly. For although in our former speech we heard what order nature usually followeth in natural things, and namely, in that which respecteth the estate of Empires and Monarchies, yet if we look well into it, we shall there find also this very difference, which we have observed to be betwixt natural death, and that which we call violent death. For as amongst men all come not to the uttermost of old age, but many are stayed by the way, so is it with estates. We see some men ascend up through all degrees, even until they attain to the highest: and then by the same degrees descend again, until they come to the end and period of all. But we see others that are stayed in ascending, or if they come to the highest degree, are suddenly thrown down. Moreover, among those fruits which attain to maturity and ripeness, all have not one and the self same time of ripening, but every one hath his proper season: and those that are most forward and soon ripe, are of shortest continuance; and quickly gone. This self same thing also we see to be observed in the life of men, and in the course of this world. The miserable estate of Atheists that have no hope of another life. Wherefore if we had no hope of another life besides this, our estate would be more miserable, not only then the estate of beasts, but also then that of trees. For as trees decay yearly in regard of their flowers, fruits and leaves, so they are yearly renewed, whereas many men perish after that manner, that being once dead they shall never be raised up and renewed again to glory. For although they have some opinion of another life, yet if by the certainty of faith they do not apprehend the fruition of eternal happiness, which is prepared for the blessed through the grace of Christ jesus, they can neither live nor die without some doubt of that which they desire most to be persuaded of. When the greatest and most skilful Philosophers, the wisest and most virtuous personages that have been amongst the Heathen, went about to comfort either themselves, or their friends in their great afflictions, and chief in death, this was thought to be one of their strongest reasons, that the laws of nature are unavoidable, and that it must be so. For they had no hope of the resurrection of their bodies: as indeed it is a doctrine that human Philosophy doth not understand. And as for the immortality of the soul, albeit the best Philosophers, and most learned men amongst them were of that opinion, which also was for the most part generally received of the people, yet they were never so assured thereof, but that still there remained some doubt in them, because they had no certain knowledge of it, but only so much as they could get by their natural light and human Philosophy. Therefore when such as excelled others amongst them laboured to comfort and strengthen men against the fear of death, and would persuade them that there was no evil in it, they used for their principal reason this disjunctive speech, Philosophical reasons against the fear of death. saying: Either man is wholly extinguished by death, or else some part of him remaineth afterwards. If he perish altogether, so that nothing of him continueth still, than he feeleth no ill: and so death hurteth him not, but delivereth him from all those evils whereunto he is necessarily subject in this life. But if some part of him abideth still, so that he die not altogether, then is death no death unto him, or at leastwise it is not evil unto him, seeing his principal part, which is his soul, and in regard of which he is man, liveth and abideth whole and sound. Now these are very lean and slender consolations. For seeing GOD hath created man of that nature that he is compounded of body and soul, no doubt but his true and perfect estate consisteth herein, that these two natures be united and linked together: Sin the cause of death. as in deed they should have done, had it not been for the sin of our first parents, who thereby brought upon man both bodily and spiritual death. And it is against reason to think, that a separation of these two natures so well knit together could be made, and that one of them should corrupt and perish, and all this without grief. Now if they perish both together, the evil that followeth thereupon is the greater. For nothing can be imagined to be more goodly and excellent then to have a being. Now can any body call that thing excellent which ceaseth to be, or which having a being, fadeth incontinently? But what a horror is it to a man only to think of death? And how much more will his horror be increased, when he shall think that he must so vanish away by death, that no part of him afterward shall have any more being, then if he had never been at all? And what profit ariseth to him that was never borne, Atheists more miserable than beasts. more than to the brute beast? But yet the estate of this man is more miserable. For to what end should the reasonable soul serve, which God hath given him, as also the understanding, reason and all the other virtues wherewith God hath endued it above the soul of beasts, but to make him more miserable and wretched then if he had been created a beast? For seeing beasts have no mind, understanding or reason, to conceive and know what a benefit and gift of GOD it is to have a being and to live, they have no such vehement apprehension either of death as men have, or of the loss of any good thing, which they are in danger to lose. And by this reason it followeth, that the more blockish and brutish men are, the less miserable they should be: as contrariwise, the greater spirits they have, and the more they acknowledge the excellency of man's nature, and those gifts wherewith God hath endued it, so much the more miserable and wretched should they be, instead of receiving greater joy and consolation. Whereupon it cometh to pass, that they are more ready to despite and blaspheme God, then to praise and glorify him for those graces and benefits wherewith he hath adorned mankind. We see how Epicures and Atheists, and all they that consider in man this present life only, and go no further, draw near to this point of which we speak. The common sayings of Atheists. Therefore some of them say, that it were best for a man not to be borne at all, or else to die so soon as he is borne. Others set themselves against nature and speak evil of her, saying that she is, rather a bad stepmother then a good mother to mankind. And because they know not what GOD is, they set upon Nature, through whose sides they wound him, speaking evil of him, and blaspheming him under this name of Nature. Thus you see what comfort and consolation they find, who look for no other life after this. And as for those other that have but some bare motion and slender opinion of the immortality of souls, what greater joy or contentation can they have? Nay there are three things that do greatly diminish their comfort. The first is, their doubting wherewith they are continually possessed, which hindereth them from having any assurance of the same. The second is the separation of the soul from the body, whereby they conceive and imagine, that the body doth so turn into corruption, as that it wholly perisheth without any hope of the resurrection thereof, or of conjoining it again with the soul from which it was disjoined. The third is the ignorance of the estate of souls after this life. For albeit they were very certainly persuaded that our souls are immortal, yet they have no assurance of their estate, neither know they whether they live in joy and rest, or in pain and torment, but only by opinion, as they esteem by every one's merits, which they measure according to that knowledge they have, and that judgement which they are able to afford of their virtues and vices. Natural reason not sufficient to stay the conscience. Therefore, whatsoever they think or hope, seeing they are not very sure and certain, neither indeed can be, if they have no better assurance then by their natural light and reason, they must needs be subject continually to sorrow and grief, which way soever they turn themselves. For if they are of opinion, that there are punishments for such as have led an evil life in this world, who can assure them that they shall be exempted and freed thereof? For howsoever they labour to enforce (as it were) their conscience, and strive never so much to rock it on sleep, and flatter themselves in their sins, yet can it not afford them any such peace and quietness, as will altogether satisfy and content them. And as for persuading themselves that there is no punishment for the wicked, they are never able to do it. For the same natural light and reason whereby they judge souls to be immortal, doth likewise constrain them to acknowledge, that there is a God a just judge, who suffereth not evil unpunished, as also he will not pass by that which is good without accepting of it as it is. So that seeing they cannot assuredly know, that God will approve and receive their works as good, or refuse them as evil, they must of necessity be always in fear, Two sorts of Atheists. whatsoever they believe. Therefore as the one sort endeavour with all their power to be persuaded of this, that men's souls are mortal as well as their bodies, and that after death there remaineth no more of the one then of the other, thereby to deliver themselves of this fear, and of the torment that accompanieth fear: so the other sort that have a better opinion of the immortality of souls, labour to persuade themselves that there is no Hell nor punishment for souls after this life, but that they are only poetical fictions and fables. But although Poets used fictions in that which they wrote of Hell, and of those infernal furies and torments, yet they derived the ground and foundation of them from that testimony, which God hath planted in the nature of us all. So that none ought to flatter and seduce themselves by means of such opinions as overturn all nature: for that were to take away all difference between good and evil, Why there must needs be a second life. virtue and vice, things honest and dishonest. For if there be no reward either for the one or the other, or if it be all one, it followeth either that there is no difference betwixt all these things, or that there is no justice in God. But both these are impossible, whereupon it must needs be concluded, that not only there is another life after this, but also that in the second life there is joy, rest, and felicity for the one, and grief, pain, and dolour for the other. Wherefore we must not think, that because the Kitchen and Nursery of this mortal body is by the appointment and providence of God, joined with the soul that is immortal and divine, therefore there is no other life for man besides this bodily life, or that the soul which giveth life and maintaineth it in the body, is no more immortal than the body that receiveth the same from it, and that the body in like manner ought not to expect another life after this. But I hope that these things shall hereafter be better declared unto us in those discourses, which we are especially to make touching the immortality of the soul. Now to end this speech, forasmuch as in this and in our former discourses, we have oftentimes made mention of Nature, which for the most part men join as companion with God, when they speak of the counsels of his providence over all things created according to that common proverb, that God and Nature have made nothing in vain, I say in this respect it shall be good for us to know, What Nature is. what Nature is, to speak properly, and into what detestable error they fall, who attribute that to it, which appertaineth to God alone. And first they that use this proverb might speak more directly and Christianly, if they attributed the whole to God only, not joining unto him nature for a companion, as though he had need of her help, and could not well finish all his works alone, and as though he had not been able to have done all that he hath done, without her. It may be they will say, that they do give this honour unto God, and that they speak not of Nature, as Galen and many other Heathen Physicians and Philosophers, or rather Epicures and Atheists do, who place Nature in God his stead: but that they speak of her as of a means created of God, by which he performeth all these things. But there is no such necessity to join Nature with God as his fellow worker. For when he created the first man, what Nature had he with him that did help him to make this work? Besides, the very name of Nature doth it not declare, Nature is a creature. that it is a thing borne & created, and so consequently hath her creation and birth from God as all other creatures have? For if we take Nature for that divine virtue and power, which appeareth in the works of the creation, & in their preservation and order, we must of necessity take it, not for a thing that is borne and bred of others, but that giveth birth and being unto others. And if we take it so, then God and Nature shallbe taken to be all one. Wherefore in this respect it were better to let the name of Nature alone: and to speak of God only, to whom Nature is but a servant, and seeing that by him it was created, and that all things were made before Nature had her being. Otherwise we are like to fall into that error of Galen and others his like in these days, The error of Galen, & such like Atheists now adays. who albeit they be convicted and ravished with admiration, through the contemplation of those wonderful works, which they behold in all the parts and powers of man's body, are notwithstanding so ungrateful, that instead of yielding unto God that honour that belongeth unto him, it seemeth they would despite him to his face, and seek all possible means to put out their own eyes, and wholly to blind their understandings, to the end they might not be constrained to acknowledge that there is a God, the Creator & maker of this so excellent a piece of work, and so to glorify him as becometh them. Now rather than they would give him this honour, they will make an idol of Nature, thereby to cast a vail before men's eyes, that they should not see and acknowledge God in his works. They will rather put out their own eyes than follow this Nature, which they forge unto themselves as a sovereign Mistress, whereas she is but the means to lead them to God her and their Creator, of whom she is but a servant, and a very small image. Thus much I thought meet to be known concerning Nature, that we might learn to speak better and more reverently both of God and of his works, What we are to judge of Nature. and that we might know that Nature is nothing else but the order and continuance of the works of God. Now that we are instructed in the causes of life and death, and what true comfort and consolation we may have against the horror thereof; and so have finished our discourses concerning the frame of the body, and of the powers and faculties of the soul therein, we must enter into a particular contemplation of the nature of the soul, and learn what is the creation and immortality thereof, so far forth as the mind of man is able to comprehend, and as the word of truth shall afford us sure and certain doctrine thereof. First then, it is necessary and very profitable for us to consider, that there is but one soul in one body, which hath all those powers and virtues of which the effects are daily seen: also what place the soul hath in the body, and what union there is between them. Now ASER, this shall be that matter Subject, which thou shalt have to continue our speech withal. That there is but one Soul in every several body: that one and the same soul hath in it all those virtues and powers, whose effects are daily seen: of the seat of the Soul in the body, and of the principal instrument thereof: of the union of the body and Soul: of the divers degrees of nature, and of the excellency that is in it; of the fountains and bounds of all the powers and virtues of the Soul. Chap. 77. A SER. Saint Paul maketh a prayer in the end of his first Epistle to the Thessalonians, which agreeth very well both to that matter whereof we have already entreated, touching the nature as well of the soul as of the body, and to that also which we have yet to handle concerning the nature, creation, and immortality of the soul. Now the very God of peace (saith he) sanctify you throughout: 1. Thes. 5. 23. and I pray God that your whole spirit, and soul, and body, may be kept blameless unto the coming of our Lord jesus Christ. Where first he showeth us, that none but God, who only is holy, sanctifieth us through jesus Christ his son the most Holy, Dan. 9 24. and that by the virtue of his holy spirit. Moreover he teacheth us, that as we are to acknowledge all sanctification already begun in us to proceed from God alone, so we must expect from him the accomplishment of that work, which he hath begun in us. For as he is the beginning, so from him must proceed the perfection, which comprehendeth all the parts of man. Therefore the Apostle here maketh a division of three members, placing the spirit first, Man divided into three parts. in the second place the soul, and in the third the body. Then he teacheth us, that the entire and absolute sanctification of all these parts of man shall be in the coming of jesus Christ, in which it shall obtain the last perfection. Now we understand already sufficiently by our former discourses, that man is compounded of two divers natures, namely of a body and of a soul: and yet here we see that Saint Paul setteth down three parts, and joineth the spirit unto the soul, as if they were two divers and different things, as well as the soul and the body are. Therefore we must search out the cause of this division of man after this manner. But before we enter into this matter, it shall be very profitable for us to refresh our memory with those things we have already entreated of, so far forth as they may serve for the understanding of this, and that according to the matter subject propounded to discourse upon. We heard before how the body is the lodging and instrument of the soul, and how the soul serveth itself with all the members thereof, One soul in one body. and setteth them on work. And as for the Soul, albeit there be but one in each several body, nevertheless that one soul hath divers faculties, powers and virtues, which we also call parts and offices thereof. Wherefore as we say not, that there are so many bodies in one body of a man, as there is diversity of parts, members and offices therein, but account them all jointly together, as one and the same body: even so we mean not that there are so many souls, as there are powers and offices in the Soul, or according to that variety of effects that appeareth in every part and member thereof, albeit we know very well, that they are distinguished one from another both in time and place. For we perceive by the effects thereof, that the sight is in the eyes, hearing in the ears, understanding and cogitation in the brain, and the like is to be said of all the other parts and members of the body, according to the nature and office of every one, and according to the offices of the Soul in them: as we have already showed when we handled all the powers thereof particularly. Moreover, we see how the child, so long as it is in the Mother's womb, differeth almost nothing at all from plants: and after it is borne, how it differeth but a little from brute beasts, as elsewhere it hath been already declared unto us. Nevertheless, as in every body there is but one and the same kind, fashion and essential form of nature, whereby it cometh to be that which it is: so there is but one only Soul in every living creatures body, by which it doth live, but yet this soul is distinguished according to the virtues and offices thereof. Wherein it falleth out with the soul as it doth with a man that hath many charges and offices, The soul like to a man that hath many offices. or that exerciseth many Arts and occupations, which he practiseth in several places, at sundry times, and by divers instruments and servants. Yea, the very variety of those instruments which the soul useth, and the repugnance that is between the actions thereof, do show manifestly that there is but one workmaster from whom the whole proceedeth, and which governeth and moderateth all, as a living creature ought to do. For there could not be so great agreement in such diversity, if there were divers workmen, and so many souls as there are effects and actions in all the parts of man. Besides, if there were such diversity of kinds of all things, as there is diversity of effects, the number of them would be infinite: whereupon there would great confusion follow in the searching out of nature, and of natural things. Therefore seeing there is but one soul in every body, we must learn whether it hath any certain place and seat in the body, or whether the whole body be the lodging for it. Of the seat of the soul in the body. Now as every form of each body is in the whole body, so the soul is wholly in the whole body, in which the true form & principal essence of man consisteth. For if there were any part thereof that had no soul within it, that part should have no life: as we see it by experience in a member that is dry, or putrefied, or cut off from the body. So that as an Husbandman hath his sundry instruments for the trimming of the ground, The soul compared to an Husbandman. and by them effecteth divers works, according to the use of each several instrument: so fareth it with the soul in the body. For the husbandman worketh another work with his plough, than he doth with his harrows, and otherwise with his spades and shovels then with the other above named instruments: so that according to the diversity of his tools he worketh divers works. And yet all this while there are not so many husbandmen as there are sundry instruments, but one alone useth all these to serve his turn. And he that should demand in which of all his instruments the Husbandman were, should he not (think you) move an impertinent question? For he may be both without his instruments & also with them: and when he useth them, he apply them to himself, and himself unto them. And to ask which of his instruments is the chiefest, were not to speak very much to purpose. For every one of them is principal in his use, and for that work whereunto it it is applied: and so is it with the soul and with the instruments thereof. For it can be both with them, and without them, in that manner that hath been already declared. And as the plough is the chief instrument which the Husbandman hath to cut and divide the ground into furrows, and the pickaxe to dig in hard places, The chief instruments of the soul. so the eye is the chief instrument, the soul hath for seeing, the ear for hearing, the brain with the thin, clear, and bright spirits therein, for all kind of understanding and knowledge, and the heart for the fountain of life. Now because the soul hath so many sundry powers, offices and actions, it is also taken in divers senses and significations, but especially in the holy scriptures, as (God willing) we shall learn hereafter. In the mean time that union which it hath with the body, is marvelous, and aught to be diligently considered of us. We are to know then, that all things whatsoever are joined together in nature, are always so knit and united by some means: which mean consisteth either in this, Two kinds of uniting things together. that the essence of two extremes do participate one of another, & join together, or else in the agreement of action and of work. Now as the bond of the first mean is between the elements themselves, and also between them and that matter whereof bodies are compounded, because there is between them an agreement and participation of nature, every one in his degree, according as they are nearer or further removed off one from another: so we have the bond of the second mean, between the body and the soul, Of the union between the soul and the body. namely the agreement of action and work. Let us then consider of the conjunction and agreement that is between a workman and his work, together with those instruments whereby he effecteth his work. For there is an agreement and conjunction between the painter and his picture, by reason of the pencil wherewith he worketh. And the like may be said of all other workmen. Even so the form and kind of all things is as it were the Workemaster in regard of the matter: and the qualities and fashioning of the matter, are the instruments whereby the Species or kind of any thing is united and knit unto the matter. How the soul is joined to the body. Now the soul is joined to the body as light is unto the air. For by reason of the conjunction of the air and light together, the air is made clear and lightsome: and yet the air and light remain whole and perfect, without any mixture or confusion of the one with the other. For they are not mingled together as the elements are in natural mixtures, or as herbs that are beaten together into powder, or drugs of the Apothecary in a medicine, that lie mingled and confused one within another. But the union and bond of two substances joined together, is a great deal more near in other kinds and creatures then in the soul, wherein it is removed farther of, by reason that the nature of corporal things admitteth of a nearer conjunction and agreement among themselves, than there can be naturally between corporal and spiritual things. So that the greater agreement of natures there is, the straighter is the bond and union-betweene them. Now we may know of what nature every kind of thing is by the offices and actions thereof. As if the question were touching the nature of that soul, divers degrees of nature in the soul. which heretofore we called the Nourishing and Vegetative Soul, it appeareth by the office and actions thereof that it is hot, and that it taketh part (as also all the actions thereof) of the nature of fire, which is the highest and purest element, and that which approacheth nearest to the celestial natures. But that kind of soul, which we called Sensitive and Cogitative, such as it is in brute beasts, ascendeth yet higher and by agreement is linked nearer to the heavens, and to the nature of heavenly bodies. And therefore beasts have not only sense, but some kind of knowledge also, whereby they do in some sort mark and perceive the course of the heavens, and heavenly bodies, and do seem after a sort to understand them. For they have knowledge both of the day and of the night, Beasts have some kind of knowledge. of Winter and of Summer, yea, they have some sense and perseverance of the alteration of seasons, according as they fall out by the course of the spheres: but yet not by any such knowledge and understanding as is in man. Now sense and knowledge cannot proceed of the power of the elements, but is derived from some higher thing. For it is by means of a more celestial power that beasts are distinguished from plants, holding more of the excellency of their Creator, declaring it a great deal more. But man he mounteth up much higher. For he ascendeth up above all the heavens, even unto God and to those spiritual natures, by means of reason and understanding, which make his soul capable of heavenly light and wisdom, and of divine inspirations. Whereupon it followeth that the original and birth of the Soul is celestial. The original of the powers of the Soul. And therefore in this diversity of the faculties and powers of the soul and life of man, we must note this, that the lower kinds of the soul and life are not the Well-springs and fountains of the highest, as if those powers and faculties did first set these latter awoorking; or as if the highest did spring of the basest, and received their virtues from them: but they are only certain aids and degrees of help, whereby the highest and chiefest descend and ascend. So that the Vegetative and nourishing life and virtue, is not the original of the senses, and sensitive virtue: but only a degree by which the faculty of sense is derived to the body, and by little and little ascendeth up to her powers and offices. The like may be said of the understanding and of reason in regard of the sensitive faculty. For every sort and kind of life, and every power of the soul hath beginning of itself, An admirable work of God. and certain bounds within which it is contained. Wherein we have to consider a marvelous work and providence of GOD, in that he hath joined and linked togethet in man things that are so divers. For we take this as granted, that the soul of man is a spiritual nature and not corporal, that it is immortal, and created for the contemplation of celestial and eternal things. On the other side, we see, how this so excellent and divine a nature is joined to that part and power that is called Vegetative and Nourishing, which seemeth rather to be corporal then spiritual, to be more terrestrial than celestial, and to be as it were the Kitchen of the bodies of living creatures, and the Storehouse and Original of their generation. So that there is no man of any sound mind, who knowing this marvelous conjunction of nature in things so divers, and considering that it cannot come to pass by happe-hazard and at adventure, but he must needs be ravished with great admiration, and acknowledge an admirable providence of God the Creator and Lord of nature. But they that are instructed in the holy word, Why God hath joined the body to the soul. and in the doctrine of the Church, have yet a further consideration of these things. For they know well, that albeit this Kitchen of man's body shall have no necessary use in the life to come, nevertheless God hath established this order, and would have it thus joined to the soul and spirit, to the end that those beginnings of eternal life, and of that true and perpetual wisdom, which he hath put into us, should be kindled and inflamed in this mortal life. For they shall not shine forth in any there, who have not here had some beginnings, but have suffered those to be clean extinguished, which they have received of GOD. For this cause doth the voice of God and of his heavenly doctrine sound in men's ears, and to these ends hath he ordained that government, which ought to be amongst them, and hath bound and fortified it with many bonds and rampires. Wherefore we stand in need of doctrine of instruction and discipline, The natural knowledge of man's body very profitable. unto which things the consideration of man's nature may greatly help us. For there is no science or human wisdom, how great soever it be, that is able to rehearse and comprehend the great profit, which this consideration can afford to men, even so far forth as they may very well learn and know. And of this we may the better be resolved, if we consider well of that which hath already been handled: yea we may the better judge hereof, if we perfectly understand that division of man made by S. Paul, and mentioned by us in this discourse. Therefore, AMANA, proceed you in the residue of this matter, giving us first to understand what is the nature and offices of those pure, animal, clear and bright spirits, which we said were serviceable to the soul for all kind of understanding and knowledge. Afterwards you may more easily instruct us at large and teach us, what difference there is not only betweenethe soul and the instruments thereof, whereby it worketh, but also between the instruments themselves, and their nature and offices, and which of them are nearest, or removed farthest from the soul. Of the nature and variety of the animal spirits, and how they are only instruments of the soul, and not the soul itself: of the nature of those bodies wherein the soul may dwell and work: of the difference that is, not only between the soul and the instrumenes by which it worketh, but also between the instruments themselves, and their natures and offices, and which of them are nearest or farthest of: of the degrees that are in the union and conjunction of the soul with the body. Chap. 78. AMANA. It is requisite that workmen should have instruments answerable to those works which they are to make: and if they have taken in hand but one single and simple work, they need but one tool fit for that purpose: as to saw timber, there needeth but a saw. But they that are to make many works, or one work that is full of variety, stand in need of many instruments: as painters, joiners, Why the soul worketh with sundry instruments. carpenters, masons and such like. The same may be said of the soul: and therefore it hath many members in the body, that are given unto it as instruments to serve for those works, which it hath outwardly to perform. Moreover, the soul hath humours to preserve and uphold the members, and to keep them always ready for their work, by those means which we have heard already: beside, it hath vital spirits of which the animal spirits are bred, which serve in stead of a light to guard and conduct it in the actions both of the external and the internal senses. And as there is great force in a tool or instrument to cause a good or evil work, so is there in the humours, spirits, and members of the body, whereby we are made fit to exercise and to execute all actions whether they concern life and sense, knowledge and understanding, or will and affections. For it fareth in this matter as it doth in the disposition of the air, which the thicker and more obscure it is, the less clear will the light appear unto us: and contrariwise the more pure and thin it is, the brighter and more shining it will show itself unto us. Now for this matter, we must call to mind what we heard concerning the generation of spirits both Vital and Animal, in those discourses of the nature and office of the heart. And as they are thin vapours, engendered of blood, concocted, and set on fire through the virtue of the heart, that they might be as it were little flames, having divers actions in divers members: so according to the purity and impurity of the blood in the composition of the body, we are to judge of the spirits that proceed from them. And albeit they have all one and the same fountain, namely the heart in which they are bred, nevertheless they change according to those places and members wherein they work, and being so changed, they have divers and several actions. We understand then by the Vital spirit, Of the Vital and Animal spirits and of their operations. a little flame bred and borne in the heart of the purest blood, whose office is to carry natural heat to the other members, and to give them virtue and strength to put in practise those actions and offices, which they exercise by the same heat. It hath been told us also before, that the arteries serve to carry this vital spirit to all the members. But we are farther to learn, that when the vital spirits bred in the heart, are in part transported to the brain, others are engendered of them, which are called Animal spirits, in that sense in which we called those Animal faculties and powers, from whence the Soul deriveth her vessels and instruments in the brain. For after the spirits sent by the heart, are come thither, they are made more clean and bright through the virtue of the brain, and agreeable to the temperament thereof: and then being infused into the brain by means of the sinews, they are instead of a light whereby the actions of the senses are incited and stirred up, as also those motions which are from place to place. And as we have heard, that a good temperature of the blood and of other humours doth much help forward and profit the manners and conditions of men, the same may be said of the heart and of the spirits proceeding from the same. For when the heart is in good temper, so that it is not troubled either with anger, or sadness, or any other evil affection, it is manifest that the spirits are a great deal the better in the brain. Now let us consider the wonderful work of God wrought in man by means of the Vital and Animal spirits. The effects of the Vital and Animal spirits in man. For what are the chief actions effected in him? Are they not the preservation of life, nourishment, and generation: and then sense and motion, with cogitation and the affections of the heart? And what were all these things without spirits? Hence it cometh that in the holy Scriptures the heart is taken for the fountain not only of life, but also of all the actions of men, as it hath been already declared unto us. And for this cause also some have said, that these spirits and little Vital and Animal flames were the soul itself, or the immediate instrument thereof, that is to say, the very next whereby it worketh immediately, so that there is none betwixt them twain. The Vital & Animal spirits are not the soul. But the latter is more certain and more agreeable to truth then the former. For if the soul were nothing else but the Vital and Animal spirits, it should fail and perish with them as the bodily life doth: and so it should not be immortal. But seeing they are but the instruments thereof, as the humours of the body are, and namely the blood from which they proceed, the soul can well be without them: albeit they cannot be without it, and although it cannot without them perform the works it doth with and by them. And forasmuch as God hath given them to be as it were a light, it is certain that the light of these surmounteth the light of the Sun, Moon or stars: and that all these lights have great agreement one with another. But it is yet a far more wonderful work of GOD, A wonderful work of God. when not only the soul useth these instruments for the life of man, but also when the celestial spirit joineth itself unto them, using them in the elect, and making them more clear by his heavenly light, that the knowledge of God might be more evident, that their assurance and trust in him might be more firm, and that all the motions of his children might be kindled the more towards him. So likewise the evil spirit knoweth well how to take occasion by the bad temperature of the humours to abuse men, as we have already declared, thereby to set forward their ruin, when he possesseth the heart, troubleth and poisoneth the spirits in that and in the brain. Whereupon he attempteth to hinder reason and judgement, to bring men to fury and madness, 1. Sam. 18. 10. & 31. 4. and to thrust forward their heart and their other members to commit foul and execrable facts. Whereof we have examples in the fury of Saul, 2. Sam. 17▪ 23. and in his death: in the death of Achitophel, Matth. 27. 5. of judas, and of many others whom he hath brought to slay themselves: as likewise in many other horrible facts daily committed by men. Therefore it is very requisite, that we should diligently consider our nature, and be careful to govern and guide it well. We are to know that our spirits are the habitations of the holy spirit, and therefore we are to pray to God through his son Christ jesus, to repel and keep back evil spirits far from us, and to inspire his divine and celestial spirit into our spirits, hearts, and minds, that it may guide and govern them. And this agreeth very fitly with that prayer, 1. Thess. 5. 23. which we heard already uttered by Saint Paul, touching the entire sanctification of the whole man, whom he divided into spirit, soul and body. So that, if we have thoroughly tasted of the former discourses, as well concerning the nature of the body as of the soul, we may perceive wherefore the Apostle hath thus divided the whole man. For first we cannot doubt but that the soul being the principal Worker, is such a substance and nature as dwelleth in a body apt and meet to receive life in. I speak this purposely, because all sorts of bodies are not capable of soul and life: and they that are capable, are not yet capable of every kind of soul and life, but only of such as are agreeable to their nature, having those instruments in themselves which may be used by them according to their nature. Wherefore the soul of man must of necessity have another body, with other instruments and of another nature, than the soul of beastesmay have: and the soul of beasts another then the soul of plants, according as every one of them differeth from other both in nature and offices. But of what nature soever either the soul or the body is, the soul hath this property▪ like a busy workman to be in the body, having all her instruments therein. A comparison of the soul and a workman. Now when a workman worketh with his tools, he must have within himself the virtue and skill to do that which he doth, because it is not in the instruments whereby he worketh. For albeit they be appropriated and fitted to the work that is wrought, yet of themselves they can do nothing at all, except they be set on work by the workman, because they have not in them any virtue to work. But this power and faculty is only in the workman, to whom it belongeth to perfect his work. So if the virtue of working were not in the soul, it could work no more with instruments then without. Therefore albeit it seemeth that the natural heat, the humours and the spirits work in the body, and effect something therein, yet we must know, that they do nothing there of themselves, but that they receive of the soul whatsoever they have. A similitude. As when a Painter draweth a picture, his pencil and colours have it not of themselves to do that which is done by them, but of the Painter. The soul than is the workman that worketh, receiving her virtue and faculty of working not from without, but even in the selfsame body in which it is. Therefore, to speak properly, we may say that she dwelleth in the body, because she abideth therein, as in her house with all her implements and household instruments: so that she must needs have the body appropriated and made fit unto her nature. For every soul cannot be indifferently joined to every form and figure of a body, to exercise and execute therein the works of life: but it must work by that order of nature, and according to those laws which the Creator of all things hath ordained from the beginning of the world. Against the transmigration of souls. Whereupon we may note, that if we had no other reason but the consideration hereof, against the Pythagorical transmigration of souls from one body to another, it were sufficient to make known the greatness of this foppery, and what error there is in that opinion. For if it were so, there would be no difference betwixt the souls of men, of beasts and of plants, neither should there be any propriety and aptness of body, and instruments more to one soul then to another. Whereupon all nature touching this point and order appointed by God herein, should be confounded and overthrown. But to return to our matter, The aptest instrument for the soul. forasmuch as the temperature of liquors, humours and qualities, (under which I also comprehend the spirits) is most inward and profound, aswell in the body as in the workmanship of nature, it is undoubtedly the fittest instrument the soul hath, and such a one as is nearest linked by agreement and conjunction, with the workman that useth the same. Insomuch that if the soul want this instrument, it departeth away: and if the soul be gone and so be wanting to it, then must it also necessarily fail presently, although the members abide yet after the departure of the soul. For the confirmation and strengthening of the members both internal and external, is separated farther from the Soul: but the mixture of the humours and spirit that is in the members, is more near and more inward. True it is, that the humours and qualities are instruments of the soul, as well as the members: but the humours are such instruments as set the rest on working, The necessary use of the humours. I mean the members, yea, by means of them the soul useth the members. Wherefore if the humours fail; the members are very unprofitable, as it appeareth in them that are dry or puffed up, or taken with the palsy, or oppressed with any other malady. For the members are fit instruments for outward uses and excercise, but the temperature and mixture of the humours and spirits, is ordained to preserve such instruments, to the end they might always be apt and ready to do their duties. The humours are in continual motion. Therefore the humours and qualities are in perpetual motion, but the members are not. For the humours must always keep the members in a readiness to work, if need require. Now in the consideration of all these things, we see wonderful degrees in the union and conjunction that is between the body and the soul, and the instruments which it useth in the body. For as all the elements have their combinations, and are linked together, according to that agreement of nature which they have one with another, every one in his degree from heaven down to the earth, and so likewise all the humours and qualities of all things: even so is it with the soul and body, and with those instruments and means whereby they are joined and knit together, every one in his degree, according as their natures are more or less corporal or spiritual, What parts of the body come nearest to the soul. terrestrial or celestial. For as the vital and animal spirits approach nearest to the nature of the soul, secondly, the humours come nearest to the nature of the spirits, thirdly, the members next to the humours: so all of them keep their rank and order in their degrees, and in that conjunction which the body and soul have together, as also the instruments whereby the soul worketh in the body: whether we consider them either in ascending upward from the lowest to the highest, or else in descending from the highest to the lowest, as we consider the union and conjunction that is betwixt all the elements from the earth to the heavens, and from the heavens to the earth. Whereby we daily see more and more the great marvels of God, and by what means and art he joineth the heavens with the earth, and bodily natures with spiritual. This being thus, we are to learn, that all the instruments of the soul are prepared for it in the body, as it were for a workman that is to do some work, and that there is none but the soul that doth use them. So that it is very evident, that the soul is the perfection of this aptness of the body, and that there is great agreement between the soul and the body, and between all the parts and faculties of both. Forasmuch then as there is such a conjunction, and that GOD hath created them both to be glorified in them, Saint Paul hath good cause to pray for sanctification in them both, to the end that God might be served and honoured, and that both of them might be glorified in the day of the Lord. But that our speech may yet be better understood, we must consider in what signification the names of soul, spirit and heart are commonly taken, namely in the holy Scriptures, and how we may and aught to use them. This will help us greatly to attain to the knowledge of the nature and immortality of the soul, wherein we are to be instructed before we dissolve our present assembly. Teach us therefore, ARAM, what divisions the scripture maketh of the whole man, aswell in regard of the soul as of the body, and in what significations the names of soul, spirit and heart are taken, with the causes wherefore. Of the divisions of man made in the holy Scriptures, as well in respect of the soul as of the body: in what significations the names of soul, spirit and heart are used therein, and the causes why: of the entire sanctification of man: how the soul is taken for the life, and for the members and instruments of nourishment, and for nourishment itself Chap. 79. ARAM. Forasmuch as God so honoureth our bodies, as to call them Temples of his holy spirit, 1. Cor. 6. 19 I think they cannot be such in deed, except they be wholly dedicated and consecrated unto him, so that we separate them from all filthiness and pollution, by giving ourselves to all kind of sanctimony and honesty of life. For than is the body wholly sanctified, when all the senses and members apply themselves only to good and holy works commanded by God, and when they abstain from the contrary. Whereupon it cometh to pass, Of the entire sanctification of man's body. that the eyes turn aside from beholding all vain things, and take pleasure only in seeing that, which may ravish man with admiration at the excellency of the works of God, and induce him to well-doing. The like may be said of sounds, of voices, of words, in regard of the ears. And as for the tongue, it is not polluted with vile speeches, with lying, slandering and blasphemy: but praiseth God, and rehearseth his works and wonders, speaking always with a grace to the edifying of all. In like manner, the mouth serveth man for the selfsame use, as the stomach also and the belly, with all the rest of the members that serve for the nourishing of the body, are not defiled through gluttony and drunkenness. The body liveth not to eat, but eateth to live. So that the body liveth not to eat, but eateth to live, and to make supply to those necessities unto which GOD hath made it subject. Therefore it observeth sobriety, and is contented to minister to the natural affections, that God may be served in this life. Neither doth it abuse the members of generation to whoredom and villainy, but containeth them within their office and lawful use. And as for the feet and hands, with all the rest of the external members, it keepeth them also within the compass of their duty. But seeing the whole body & all the members thereof, take from the soul all their actions and uses, they cannot be sanctified for the service of God and of holy things, unless the soul be first sanctified, which giveth unto them life, motion, and sense. For this cause Saint Paul speaking of the sanctification which he wisheth to the Thessalonians, 1. Thes. 5. 23. before he maketh any mention of that of the body, he beginneth with the Spirit and Soul, as we have already heard. Now because the soul hath divers powers, he useth two words the better to note them out, especially the chiefest of them. For as it hath been already declared unto us, albeit the soul hath many powers and offices in the body of man, yet there are not so many souls in the body, as there are faculties and effects thereof, but one only soul which doth all that. For this cause the name of soul is diversly taken in the holy scriptures. The name of Soul taken diversly. Sometime it is taken for that spiritual substance that is joined with the body to give life unto it, and for all the powers thereof: and sometime again for one part of those faculties and powers. The like may be said of the name of spirit, and of heart, and that for the same reason. Thus doth the Scripture sometimes divide the whole man into two parts only, namely into body and soul: Math. 10. 28. as when jesus Christ sayeth: Fear ye not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him, which is able to destroy both soul and body in Hell. Gen. 6. 17. And often also the same holy word taketh the one of these two parts for the whole, esai. 40. 6. luc. 3. 6. levit 4. 2. even in that signification wherein we take the name Person in our tongue. ezech. 18. 4. For this cause we read so often in the word, All flesh and every soul, rom. 13. 1. for every person. Gen. 14. 21. & 46. 27. Also, Give me the Souls, for give me the persons: And all the Souls of the house, for all the persons thereof. Now because the understanding and the will are the principal faculties and powers of the soul, when the Scripture meaneth to set them down distinctly, and to express them together with the nature and virtue of the soul, it taketh the spirit for the one, and the soul for the other: namely the spirit for the reason and understanding, & the soul for the will & affections. For otherwise how should every man be entire & sound, unless his thoughts were pure & holy, all his affections rightly ruled, & finally his whole body made obedient, and serviceable to every good work? For we have heard already what Lordship is attributed to the reason and to the understanding: then how the will and affections are in the midst to command, and lastly the body to serve and obey. So that a man is then altogether pure and sound, When a man is perfectly sanctified. when he thinketh nothing in his mind, desireth nothing in his heart, neither executeth any thing with his members, but that which pleaseth God. We have a place in Esay which teacheth us very clearly, that the spirit and soul are so taken and distinguished as we say: Esay. 26. 8, 9 The desire of our soul (saith he) is to thy name, and to the remembrance of thee. With my soul have I desired thee in the night, and with my spirit within me will I seek thee in the morning. We see how first he attributeth desire to the soul, thereby to declare the affection of the people towards the Lord. Then he maketh mention of the remembrance and memory that he hath of God, which is in the mind. So that it seemeth he comprehendeth the understanding, and will in the first verse under the name of Soul. Afteward in the verse following, he distinguisheth them more specially, attributing desire to the soul, than watchfulness and diligent inquisition to the spirit, which is not without thinking and discoursing that appertain to the mind. Wherefore the Prophet minding to signify how he was wholly addicted to the Lordè, with all his senses and understanding, and with all his heart and will, and that all his affection was towards him, he useth this distinction between the soul and the spirit. Likewise we find these two names Soul and Spirit, joined together in this signification in the Psalms: and I am persuaded, that for the same reason the blessed Virgin joined them together in her song, when she said, Luk. 1. 46, 47. My soul magnifieth the Lord, and my spirit reioy●eth in God my Saviour. Now as the Scripture useth this distinction the better to express the faculties and powers of the soul, so Saint Paul▪ sometimes distinguisheth them into three, The soul divided into three parts. that they may the better be known: as when he writeth to the Ephesians in these words, Ephe 4. 17, 18. This I say therefore and testify in the Lord, that ye henceforth walk not as other Gentiles walk, in vanity of their mind, having their cogitation darkened, and being strangers from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the hardness of their heart. We see here that in the first place he putteth the mind, by which he meaneth understanding and reason, which is the principal faculty and power of the soul, & that which is so much magnified by the Philosophers, that it is called of them the Queen, Damé & Mistress. Nevertheless S. Paul testifieth clearly, that all of it is vanity without Christ: so that a man may well judge, what we are to esteem of the rest that is in man. Therefore also we see, how from the mind he cometh to the thought, whereby he comprehendeth both imagination and memory, and all the faculties and powers of the internal senses, which he testifieth to be shadowed with darkness, john 1. 9 and 8. 12. and 9 5. and 12. 46. so that there is no heavenly light at all therein without jesus Christ, who is the light of the world. For which cause also he affirmeth that they are estranged from the life of God: that is to say, from that life by which he liveth in his, and which he commandeth and approveth. Afterward he referreth the cause thereof to their ignorance, which he joineth with darkness and with the thought obscured thereby. Finally he cometh to the will and affections, which he comprehendeth under the name of heart, to whose hardness he referreth their ignorance as to the fountain thereof. For by reason that through their malice and contumacy they reject the light of God that is offered to their hearts and minds, they blind themselves by the just judgement of God, by which also they are made blind, as they justly deserve, seeing they love darkness more than light, and lying more than the truth. Now when all these faculties of the soul are reform with the body, according as we have already declared, then is man come to that entire sanctification of which Saint Paul speaketh in the place before alleged, which is requisite for the true children and servants of God. But it seemeth that in all these divisions and distinctions of the faculties and powers of the soul rehearsed out of the Scriptures, there is not one of them wherein any mention is made of the natural powers, by which the soul giveth life and nourishment to the body, notwithstanding that this office also is assigned unto it as well as the rest. Hereof three reasons may be rendered. Why the natural powers are not mentioned in these divisions. The first is, that the word of GOD maketh express mention of the chief faculties and powers, which most properly belong to the nature of the soul, and are given unto it more specially to know and honour God by, and which appertain not only to this life, but also to the other. The second is, because these natural powers may be comprehended under the vital, and under the seat of the affections, by reason of that communication which they have both with the spirits, and with the humours used by the soul in the body, not only to nourish it and preserve life in it, but also to serve for all other things spoken of before. The third reason is, that forasmuch as these natural powers are more terrestrial than celestial, and more corporal than spiritual, and the use and profit of them endeth with this human life, we may comprehend them under the name of body, as things more nearly joined to it for the use of this life, and of which it shall have no need after this life, when it shall be made incorruptible and immortal. And because this power of the soul appeareth more in this life, than any of the rest, therefore it is better known. For this cause the name of soul is oftentimes taken not only for this natural power which we call Vegetative and Nutritive, but also for the life itself, and for all the commodities and desires thereof, yea, for the whole estate of life. We may call to mind what we heard before of the soul which is in the blood. And when Reuben said to his brethren that would have slain joseph, Genes. 37. 21. Let us not strike his soul, it is as much as if he had said, Let us not kill the soul. Now it is certain, that the soul can neither be slain nor stricken: therefore by the soul he meaneth the life. And so his speech was all one as if he had said, Let us not take his life from him: as himself declareth it by and by after in the verse following where he sayeth, Shed not blood. Also when Moses speaketh of the Law that requireth punishment like to the evil committed, as he sayeth, Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, and foot for foot, so he sayeth, Soul for soul, Deut. 19 21. that is, life for life. And to seek the soul of one, in many places of Scripture signifieth to lie in wait for the life, and to pursue it unto death: jerem. 11. 21. as it is written of the enemies of jeremy, and of Herod against Christ jesus. Matth. 2. 20. There are infinite such like places, both in the old and new Testament, in which the soul is taken for this corporal and natural life. Now because the soul giveth life by means of the stomach, belly, and other members and instruments of nourishment, of which we have spoken before, therefore it is often taken for them also: Esay 5. 14. as when Esay sayeth, Therefore Hell, (that is to say the grave) hath enlarged his soul, and hath opened his mouth without measure, and their glory, and their multitude and their pomp, and he that rejoiceth among them, shall descend into it. The Prophet propoundeth here the grave as a great and horrible monster, that hath a throat, with a stomach and belly, as it were a deep gulf and bottomless pit to swallow up and to consume all. And therefore as he sayeth, that he hath opened his throat or mouth, so he sayeth, that he hath enlarged his soul, that is to say, his stomach and belly, that it may be more capable to receive greater store of meat. The same Prophet in an other place, meaning to set down the vain hope, that shall deceive them that band themselves, and enterprise any thing against the people of GOD, and that look for aid and deliverance from any other besides him, Esay 29. 8. sayeth, that They are like to an hungry man, who dreameth that he eateth, but when he awaketh, his soul is empty: or to a thirsty man, who dreameth that he is drinking, but when he awaketh, behold he is faint, and his soul longeth. Which is as much as if he had said, that such a one supposing he hath well eaten and well drunk, findeth his stomach and his belly empty, and is still as hungry and thirsty as he was before. Also when jeremy saith, jerem. 31. 25. I have satiate the weary soul, and have replenished every languishing soul, it is certain that by the soul he meaneth the members and instruments of nourishment, with the body that receiveth it and the life that is preserved: for the soul neither eateth nor drinketh. Ezech. 7. 19 But Ezechiel showeth us this yet more clearly, saying, They shall not satisfy their souls, nor fill their bowels. For himself expoundeth that by the word Bowels, which before he called souls. Moreover, we have further to note, that forasmuch as the soul can no more give life to the body without food, then without these members and instruments by which it distributeth and delivereth the same, it is likewise taken not only for the food of the body, but also for those instruments and means whereby men get and obtain food. Therefore it is written in the Law of the hired servant that is poor and needy, Deut. 24. 15. levit. 19 13. Thou shalt give him his hire for his day (that is, the same day he laboureth) neither shall the sun go down upon it: for he is poor, and therewith sustaineth his soul: as if he should say, it is his life and food whereby he must be sustained. So that he which beguileth him of his hire, taketh away his soul and life from him, as much as in him lieth. It is written also, That no man shall take the neither nor the upper millstone to pledge: Deute. 24. 6. for this gage is his soul. By which phrase of two millstones that serve to grind the corn, the Lord comprehendeth all those instruments wherewith men get their living by their labour, of what occupation and trade soever they be. For as a man can not grind without a millstone or without corn, to have meal for bread to maintain life withal: so poor Artificers and Handicraftmen can not grind, nor consequently live, if those tools and instruments be taken from them, whereby they must get both their own living, and the living of their wives and children. Therefore God sayeth that such a gage is the soul, by which he understandeth the life, and by life the food and nourishment that preserveth it, and consequently the instruments by which poor men and Artificers get their living. To conclude, it seemeth that this kind of phrase used by the Hebrews, agreeth well enough with our common speech, in which we often take the life for food and charges to maintain life. As when we say, that a man getteth and purchaseth his life or living with the sweat of his face. We say likewise, that we give life to those whom we feed, and take life from them whom we deprive of food and nourishment, and of the means to get it. But we must learn some other significations of this word soul, taught us in the holy Scriptures. And first, what is meant by a living soul, and what by a natural, or sensual body: and what is a spiritual body: and how the name of soul is taken for the desires of the flesh, and for all things belonging to this life. Therefore it belongeth to thee, ACHITOB, to discourse upon this matter. What is meant by a living soul, what by a sensual and natural body, and what by a spiritual body: how the name of soul is taken for all the desires of the flesh, and for all things belonging to this life: and not only for the whole person alive, but also for the person being dead, and for a dead corpse: and lastly for the spirit separate from the body. Chap. 80. ACHITOB. Men may well study in the schools of the most skilful and excellent Lawmakers, Philosophers, Orators, and Doctors that are in the world, yet they shall reap small profit thereby, except they come to that school where the spirit of God is our master and teacher. For this cause jesus Christ, after he heard the confession that Peter made of him, Matth. 16. 17. said thus unto him, Blessed art thou Simon, the son of jonas: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven. Now in that he opposeth flesh and blood to the Father in heaven, he declareth sufficiently, that according to the manner of the Hebrew speech, he understandeth by these two words, whatsoever is in man, that is of man. As when Saint john saith, john 1. 12, 13. that as many as received Christ, to them he gave power to be the sons of God, even to them that believe in his name, which are borne not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. 1. Cor. 2. 11, 12. And to confirm this it is said elsewhere, What man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of a man which is in him? even so the things of God knoweth no man, but the spirit of God. Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God, that we might know the things that are given to us of God. To this purpose when Saint Paul opposeth a spiritual man, to him whom he called before a natural man, and altogether uncapable of the spirit of God, he saith that the spiritual man discerneth all things, and is judged of no man. For being such a one, he hath certain knowledge of heavenly things, to be able to discern light from darkness, and truth from lies, that he be not deceived by a false show of truth. Neither is he judged of any body, because the truth of God is not subject to the judgement of men, how skilful and conceited soever they be, without the spirit of regeneration. Now then as we have heard, that the soul is taken in sundry significations declared by us, we may now know, that it is taken oftentimes in the holy Scriptures for all the virtues, for all natural gifts and graces, for all affections and desires, for all pleasures and commodities, What is meant by living soul. and for other things appertaining to this life. For this cause living soul signifieth in the Scriptures as much as creature, Genes. 1. having soul and natural life, and it is so taken for all living creatures of what nature and kind soever they be. And Saint Paul in the place alleged and in the fifteenth of the same Epistle, 1. Cor. 15. 44. calleth a natural man and a natural body, that man and that body, which liveth with such a soul and such a life: unto whom he opposeth diversly, a spiritual man and a spiritual body. What is meant by a natural and by a spiritual man. For by a natural man he understandeth a man not regenerated by the Spirit of GOD, and by a spiritual, a man regenerated: and by a natural body he meaneth a body that liveth by this corporal life, such as it is in this world before the death and resurrection thereof. By a spiritual body, he understandeth not only such a body as men have that are already regenerated in this life, but also such a one as it shall be after the resurrection, when it shall be fully regenerated and made immortal, and like to the glorious body of jesus Christ. For besides the human soul wherewith it liveth here, and in regard of which Saint Paul called it natural, it shall have also a divine virtue, that shall wholly change in it all corruptible and mortal qualities, and all human infirmities, unto which it is subject in this life, into incorruptible and immortal qualities. And so doth the Apostle expound it saying in the same place, The body is sown in corruption, and riseth in incorruption: it is sown in dishonour, it riseth in glory: it is sown in weakness, and is raised in power. It is sown a natural body, and is raised a spiritual body: there is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body. As it is also written, Genes. 2. 7. The first man Adam was made a living soul: and the last Adam was made a quickening spirit. Whereupon we have to note, that Saint Paul speaketh still of the self same body, which remaineth always one in substance. But forasmuch as it altereth in qualities and kind of life, therefore as he calleth it spiritual, in regard of the Spirit of Christ, and of his spiritual and heavenly virtues, by which he changeth the first qualities of it, as the Apostle teacheth us by such as are opposed against them: so it is also called an animal or natural body, of the soul, which giveth unto it only that natural life that it hath in this world, and not that spiritual and immortal life, which it shall have after this. For the soul, which now can give none but this mortal life by reason of sin, shall then have another virtue, when sin shall be wholly abolished, to give unto the body an immortal and blessed life, by means of that spiritual and divine virtue of jesus Christ, whereby it shall be quickened, that it may quicken the body with the same life. But because this word Animal derived from Anima, that signifieth the soul, is not very common in our English tongue, we find in the usual translation of these places of Saint Paul alleged by us, these words natural and sensual instead of animal, which the Greek word properly signifieth. What is meant by an animal or natural man. Therefore in expounding the sense of these kinds of speech used by the Apostle we must understand, that he doth not call animal, or sensual and natural, the body of man only, or man by reason of his body only, but the whole man compounded of body and soul. For he is altogether animal, that is, natural and sensual both in body and soul without Christ jesus: but being in him, so long as he liveth in this world, he is both animal, that is to say, natural and sensual, and also spiritual. First, he is animal, both because he is not yet perfectly regenerated, as also because he is not yet immortal and glorified, as he shall be after his resurrection. On the other side he beginneth even now to be spiritual, because he hath a beginning of regeneration wrought in him, which being once made perfect, he shall be regenerated much more absolutely, and made wholly conformable to jesus Christ both for immortality and eternal happiness. For than he shall be no more animal, natural, sensual, and spiritual altogether, but only spiritual, according as I have already declared. Wherefore let us know, that every one shall retain still the self same body and soul, which he hath in this life, but by reason of that change of evil qualities, which being in both shall be made in the other life, Saint Paul calleth it spiritual, and not for any conversion that shall be of the body into the spirit. For as a man is called animal, in regard of the soul that is given him, because the soul is the chiefest thing in him: so he is called spiritual in respect of the other life, and of the excellency that shall be added to the soul, and by the soul to the body, through the heavenly and spiritual virtue and power of jesus Christ. Now then seeing the soul is taken in the holy Scriptures for the natural life, The soul put so the affections. which is not without affections, we may see it sometimes also put for them. Therefore when the word of God would express a great affection of love, Gen. 34. 3. it sayeth of the son of Sichem, that his soul clave unto Dinah: and after it is added, that he loved her and spoke to the heart of the maid, that is to say, kindly, and as her heart could wish. Gen. 44. 30. In like manner it is written of jacob, that his soul was bound to the soul of Benjamin his son: to signify, that he loved him tenderly, as his own soul and life. And of jonathan it is said, 1. Sam. 18. 1. that his soul was knit with the soul of David: which phrase is afterward expounded by the Scripture where it is said, that jonathan loved David as his own soul. We are also commanded to love GOD with all our soul, Deut. 6. 5. as also with all our heart and mind. matth. 10. 39 Therefore jesus Christ sayeth, that whosoever seeketh and saveth his soul, mar. 8. 35. shall lose it, but he that hateth and loseth it for his sake, luke 9 24. shall find it and save it unto eternal life. iohn 12. 25. In which words, the soul is not only taken for the life, but also for all the commodities thereof, and for the desires of the flesh, such as are glory, honours, riches, pleasures, delights, ease, and all kind of prosperity: for the obtaining of which things many turn aside from the way of salvation, and take the path that leadeth to destruction. Also we read many places in the Scriptures, in which the soul is taken not only for the whole person living, but also for the person dead, yea for the dead body, and sometimes for the spirit separated from the body. But we must well consider in what sense there is mention made of the death of the soul. How we are to understand that the soul dieth. Balaam wisheth that his soul might die the death of the just: Num. 23. 10. but he speaketh after the manner of the Hebrews, who use many times to say My soul and thy soul, for myself and thyself: or for my person and thy person, according to that before mentioned, that the name of soul and of flesh, are often taken for the whole man, and for that which we call Person. For this cause whereas Moses said, Gen. 22. 16. that GOD swore by himself, jeremy and Amos say, jerem. 51. 14. that he swore by his soul, Amos 6. 8. in the same sense and signification. Likewise, Levit. 21. 1. the name of Soul is not only taken for a living person, but also for him that is dead: The name of soul put for the dead body. as when it is written in the Law, Let none of you be defiled by the dead among his people, it is in the Hebrew, over the soul of his people, that is, over the dead body of any of the people, by touching it after it is dead. job 33. 18, 22. And when job saith, that the soul of a man draweth to the grave, and his life to the buryers, and that God delivereth his soul from going into the pit, he taketh not the name of soul for that spiritual essence that giveth life unto man, but for the life itself; or for the man and body itself, which is laid in the grave after death. So that his meaning is no other than to say, that God delivereth man from death, whereby otherwise he should be brought into the pit. And when David saith, Psalm 30. 3. Lord, thou hast brought up my soul out of the grave, he showeth after very evidently what he understandeth by his soul when he saith, Psalm. 56. 13. and 22. 20. Thou hast revived me from them that go down into the pit. He taketh this word Soul in the same sense when he saith, that God delivered his soul from death and from the midst of lions: and when he prayeth him to deliver his soul from the sword, his desolate soul from the power of the dog. For it is easy to judge by these words, that he taketh not the soul in these places for the essence of the soul and proper substance thereof: because the soul can not be smitten with the sword, nor devoured of lions, nor carried away by dogs. Therefore seeing the soul is so often put in the Scripture for corporal life which endeth with the body, and which the soul giveth unto it by means of those instruments, which it hath in the body, the name of Spirit is many times used therein, What is meant by Spirit in the Scriptures. to signify more specially this essence and spiritual substance, which we call the soul, and which may be separated both from the body and blood, as that which liveth after the death of the body. Psalm 31. 5. Therefore David did so use the word Spirit, luke 23. 46. when he recommended his soul to God by the same words, which jesus Christ used upon the cross. Afterward Saint Steven took it in the same sense when he said, Acts 7. 59 Lord jesus receive my spirit. For this is that spirit of which Solomon saith, Eccles. 12. 7. that it returneth to God that gave it, after that the body is returned to the earth and to dust of which it consisteth. And yet this difference is not always observed in the Scriptures. For as we have already heard, both the heart, and soul, and spirit are oftentimes generally and indifferently put for all the parts and powers of the soul, and not only for those of men, but also of beasts: as when the Wise man attributeth spirit unto them, having regard to this corporal life. For when Solomon speaketh so, it is in consideration of this life that consisteth in breath, which is also called Spirit in the holy Scriptures, which use one & the same word to signify both wind and breathing, and whatsoever we call spirit, taking it both for the soul of man, for the Angelical natures, and for the Divine nature. job 27. 3, 4. Therefore job speaking of this present life saith, So long as my breath is in me, and the spirit of God in my nostrils, my lips surely shall speak no wickedness, and my tongue shall utter no deceit. But when Saint Paul saith, Rom. 8. 16. The same spirit beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God, he taketh the word Spirit in an other sense than job did in the place now alleged. For in the first place he taketh the name of Spirit for the Spirit of GOD, and in the second place for the Spirit of man, which signifieth the human soul. It is true that in this place he taketh it for the soul and for the spirit, such as it is in regenerate men: but when he saith elsewhere, that the spirit of man knoweth the things of man, 1. Cor. 2. 11. he taketh the spirit simply for a human Spirit, and for the understanding part thereof. Likewise the name of soul is put, not only for this natural life and for the will and affections, but also for the self same thing that is comprehended by this word Spirit, when one would signify thereby the greatest excellency of the soul. As when David sayeth, Our soul waiteth for the Lord, Psal. 33. 20, 21. for he is our help and our shield. Surely our heart shall rejoice in him, because we trusted in his holy name. And again, My soul rejoiceth in the Lord, and is glad in his salvation. 1. Pet. 2. 11, 12. And when Saint Peter sayeth, Abstain from fleshly lusts, which fight against the soul, and have your conversation honest among the Gentiles, he taketh the name of Soul for the spiritual man, who hath his mind and all his affections well ruled according to the will of GOD. As then we have heard in what sort the soul may die, in regard of this corporal life, according to the phrase of the Scriptures and of the Hebrews, so by this which Saint Peter saith, that fleshly lusts fight against the soul, we may learn after what manner the soul may be said to die and to be slain. For nothing can bring death unto it but sin. Wherefore it is not said without good reason in the Book of Wisdom, Wisd. 1. that the mouth that telleth lies slayeth the soul. Albeit then the soul is immortal, in that it can never be without life, no more than the Angels, who are spirits like to it: nevertheless it is after a sort mortal, How the soul is after a sort mortal. so far forth as being far off separated from God through sin, it liveth no more that blessed life, wherewith it should live if it were united and joined unto him by true faith and sincere obedience. For it should enjoy the self same life, which the heavenly Angels, with the souls and spirits of the blessed do enjoy. As contrariwise the souls of the wicked live with the same life that the devils do, which is called dead, because it is a more accursed life then death itself, and therefore called the second and eternal death. Now we may think ourselves sufficiently taught touching the diverse significations in which the name of Soul is taken. It seemeth to me, that we have spoken enough of the Anatomy of the body and soul, of which the most of our discourses hitherto were made: which may suffice for the contentation of every one, that will keep himself within the bounds and limits set down unto us by the wisdom of GOD in his word. But to finish this whole matter concerning the soul, which we have chief considered in her parts, powers, and effects, we are further yet to be instructed in the creation, generation, nature, and immortality thereof. And because they are marvelous difficult matters, and such as are not without great contrarieties of opinions even amongst the learned, I am of opinion that these things are to be discoursed of, according to that manner of teaching of the ancient Academics, The ancient Academical kind of teaching. which we followed in our first meeting: namely, upon the theme propounded unto us, to balance the arguments on the one part, with the reasons of the other side, that so we may diligently search out the truth. Notwithstanding it shallbe lawful for us to deliver our opinion, so long as we ground it upon the infallible testimony of the word of God, leaving to every one his liberty to judge which is best, and to embrace and follow the same. For our entrance therefore into so goodly a matter, thou shalt begin, ASER, to morrow to declare unto us what thou shalt think good concerning this proposition, namely, whether the soul is begotten with the body, and of the seed thereof: or whether it be created apart and of another substance, and what is requisite for us to know therein. The end of the tenth days work. THE ELEVENTH days work. Whether the soul of man is engendered with the body, and of the same substance that the body is of: or whether it be created by itself and of another substance: whether it be needful for us to know what the soul is, and what is the essence thereof, or only to know of what quality it is, with the works and effects thereof. Chap. 81. ASER. P●at●n Phad. I am of opinion, that in discoursing philosophically concerning the knowledge of the soul, we ought to practise that which Socrates said, being tired with the consideration of the nature of things, namely, to be very careful lest it happen to us as it doth to them that are busy beholders of the Sun eclipsed, whose sight is dazzled thereby except they behold the image thereof in water, or in some such like thing. For even the Spirit that is wholly given to the understanding of itself, is often as it were amazed and carried far out of the way of true contemplation, unless it know how to consider itself in the glass of all brightness, The word of God the true glass for the mind. laid open in the sacred word of GOD, and not stay altogether in the discourses of natural Philosophy and human reason, which many times blind even the sharpest wits of men. True it is, that we have many things in Nature that afford us evident testimonies of the creation, nature, and immortality of the soul, which have greatly moved, not only those Philosophers that have borne greatest reverence to GOD, and acknowledged him to be the Creator of all things, but even those also that were most profane, and made the greatest Idol of Nature. Nevertheless the knowledge of so high and difficult a matter, Who know the soul best. could never be perfectly comprehended, but of them only that have heard the doctrine of the Spirit of GOD, and have received the testimonies of his word, as certain demonstrations of those things, which the sense of man is not able to conceive. For in deed we can not pronounce any thing certain of so high a nature as is that of the soul, except it be by his testimony who hath created it, and who only knoweth it, as the workman knoweth his work. Yet we ought not to contemn natural reasons found out by the learneder sort, which are as it were beams of that true light: but rather diligently consider of them, as helps that may greatly further us in the understanding of that we seek, and serve for the confounding of so many Atheists as impudently dare to deny the immortality of the soul, and that judgement of God, which shall be to the everlasting happiness and joy of the good, and to the perpetual grief and torment of the wicked. Now albeit the soul of man hath no parts nor members into which it may be divided as the body may, nevertheless in the sequel of our discourses concerning the Anatomy of the body, we have also made as it were an Anatomy of the soul, in regard of her faculties, powers, and offices, whereby we may attain to some good measure of knowledge touching the nature thereof, and of the difference that is between it and the souls of all other creatures that have soul and life. But there remain yet very great difficulties concerning the creation and substance thereof, upon which points it shall be very profitable for us to be well resolved. We know well enough by that which we heard before, that the soul of man can not be of any corporal nature, or compounded of any corruptible nature, as the body is. For if it were so, then must it necessarily be mortal as the body is, and be far from doing that which it doth. Besides, it would follow thereupon that the soul of man differed in nothing from the soul of beasts. But we know by the effects of it that there is great difference between them, yea greater than between heaven and earth: The soul is not bred of corporal seed. which being so, it followeth well, that it is not engendered with the body of the same substance with it, and that the substance of the soul is not derived from the same seed. Again, if the soul be created of some other substance, and not begotten with the body of any human seed, a man may ask from whence then cometh that pollution that is in it through sin, whereby the whole race of mankind is corrupted, and what power Original sin ought to have over it. For if GOD daily createth souls for those human bodies that come into the world continually, as we do believe, and that to place and lodge them in those bodies even from the womb, surely he createth them no otherwise then he did all other creatures, Genes. 1. which he created good. Whereupon it followeth, that he created not souls corrupted and infected with sin, but pure and sound, as those were of our first Parents before sin entered into the world. Nevertheless we see that the chief corruption and infection in man through sin, is in the soul. For if the soul were not infected, the body should not be stained therewith, as that which is but the lodging and instrument of the soul, and as it were the servant thereof. Wherefore when the soul is clean and pure, the whole man, both body and soul is altogether pure: but when that is defiled, all is defiled. From whence then, will some man say, doth the soul receive this infection of sin, wherewith she is polluted after her creation? Hath she it of herself, or of the body after she is lodged therein, and of the corruption of that seed, of which the body is begotten? These are very profound questions and wonderful difficult, about which many great Divines have troubled themselves a long time. But the wiser sort inquire soberly into them, Modesty requisite in searching the truth. so as they give evident testimony of that modesty, wherewith they seek after the understanding of the great secreats of God, rather than make profession that they have found them out. Others there are, who one while with conjectures according to their fancy, an other while with reasons drawn from the nature of things, set down for a certain truth whatsoever cometh into their mind. Now then being to hear what reasons can be alleged, we will omit and pass over, as well them that walk wholly in the darkness of ignorance, as those that will not go fair and softly, and as it were feeling with the hand, but run on swiftly whither they please, without fear of downefalles. We will take a middle course, neither too high nor too low, keeping ourselves within the limits of the word of truth, which teacheth us that we incur original sin, because we are all the children of Adam, to whom, and to whose posterity God gave original justice, How we become guilty of original sin. which made man obedient to God, and the body subject to reason. But it was given him with this condition, that if he kept not the commandment of God, both he and his postery should be deprived of that gift and privilege: even as if some nobleman having committed treason should be disgraded from the title of Nobility, both he and his children. This deprivation of gifts bestowed upon man by God, of which we should have been the Inheritors, What original sin is. but for the sin of our first Parents, is called by the Divines, Original sin. To proceed then with our former matter, first I say, that in my mind, it is not so necessarily required of us to know what the soul is, or what is the essence and substance thereof, How we must learn to know the soul. as to know of what quality it is, and what are the actions and works of it. And that this is so, we may judge by that bountifulness, which GOD the Lord of nature useth towards us, and which he manifesteth unto us on every side by manifold signs and testimonies. For whatsoever is expedient for us, the same he propoundeth unto us both very abundantly, and with such facility, that we may easily find it out and bring it into use. Wherefore we can have no more evident token, that a thing is not profitable or not very necessary for us, than this that it is rare, far off, and hid from us, yea very hard to find out and to attain to the use of it. So that when we are admonished to know ourselves, we must not refer this to the knowledge of the essence of the soul, which we are not able to know or comprehend, but to the knowledge of the effects and works of it, thereby to know how to frame our manners and our whole life, to the end that chase vice away, we might follow after virtue. And this by the grace of Christ jesus, will lead us to that life in which we shall be perfectly wise and good, and live immortal and blessed with GOD for evermore. Then, as we shall see the Creator of all things face to face, who otherwise is incomprehensible unto us, so we shall know ourselves perfectly in him. When we shall know our s●lues perfectly. True it is if we understand well the principal cause that is taught us in his word, why he created man after his image and likeness, and gave him an immortal soul partaker of understanding and reason, we shall be well instructed in that point we desire to know touching the nature of the soul. So that although we can not thoroughly know or define what is the essence or substance thereof, nevertheless seeing it was created of GOD, that being joined unto him it might have eternal happiness; we must needs say, that it is a substance in some sort capable of the divine nature, and that may be joined therewith. For being endued with the knowledge of the divinity, the love of the same is bred within it, by which love the soul is so joined unto GOD, that it is endued with perpetual happiness. And thus we may say, What the soul is. that the soul of man is a spirit that giveth life to the body whereunto it is joined, and which is capable of the knowledge of GOD to love him, as being meet to be united unto him through love, to eternal felicity. But let us consider the diversity of opinions of the best learned, as well upon this matter, as upon the doubts mentioned by us in our speech. Variety of opinions touching the essence of the soul. For the first, there are many who think, that we take our generation and birth of our fathers and mothers, not only in regard of our bodies, but also of our souls: and that souls are produced of souls, as bodies are begotten of bodies, being led by the reasons before spoken of. For they can not conceive how original sin, which is the pollution of our nature that before was good and pure, by reason of the hereditary corruption of the first father of men, can be derived from Adam to all his successors, and from father to son, if the souls of children take not their original from the souls of their Parents, as the bodies do of their bodies: considering that the soul is the chief subject of original sin, and of all the rest that proceed from it, as rivers issue from their fountain. Wherefore, as we set Adam before our eyes for the first stock or root of all mankind, in regard of men's bodies that have all their beginning from him: so these men do the like with his soul, and the souls of all other men, as if souls were derived from souls, and bodies from bodies. And in deed at the first blush a man might think, that Christ jesus was of this mind when he said, john 3. 6. That which is borne of the flesh, is flesh, and that which is borne of the spirit, is spirit: if it be so that the name of flesh in that place ought to be taken for the whole man, comprehending under it the body, soul, and spirit, and whatsoever excellent thing is in man, being considered in his corrupt nature, as the word flesh is commonly taken in the holy Scriptures, when it is opposed to the spirit, or to God. And for this cause many do not take this word flesh so largely, neither in this place, nor in any other like to this, as if the spirit of man and the chief power of his soul were comprehended therein: but they restrain it to that part which they call sensual, under which they understand not only the body of man, but also those powers of the soul, which we have common with beasts. Therefore they doubt not to say, that the soul, which is called Vegetative and sensitive, like to that of plants and beasts, is produced of the same seed that the body is: and that it is aswell contained in the seed, as the matter and nature of which the body is compounded. Whereupon it would follow, that in this respect there is no difference betwixt the soul of man and the soul of beasts and plants. They say well, that every living creature hath but one only soul, albeit there be divers powers thereof in certain creatures, Why one soul is called vegetative, another sensitive, the third reasonable. in some more, in some less. Hereof it is that they call that of plants by a more special name Vegetative, because it hath but this virtue and office only of which it taketh the name. And albeit the soul of beasts hath the same virtue also, yet they call it not by the same name, but only sensitive, under which they place the vegetative soul that is in plants, as a power and property thereof. So likewise although the soul of man hath both these together, yet they call it not either vegetative or sensitive, but only reasonable: under which they place the vegetative and sensitive soul that is in beasts, for powers and properties thereof, as before I said, they placed the vegetative under the sensitive. But I would very gladly, AMANA, be instructed in that which thou canst deliver very well to this purpose, following this excellent matter: which will serve greatly to cause us more specially to understand the nature and immortality of the soul, the chief object whereat we aim. Whether there be any thing mortal in the soul of man: of the distinction between the soul and the powers of it: of the opinions of Philosophers, and what agreement is between them touching the soul of brute beasts, and the nature and substance of it: of their opinion that derive the soul of man and the soul of beasts from one fountain: of them that ascend higher, and of their reasons. Chap. 82. AMANA. That which we read of jesus Christ his saying to Nicodemus in these words, john 3. 12. If when I tell you earthly things, ye believe not, how should ye believe, if I shall tell you of heavenly things? may give us occasion to say in like manner, that if we can not know the earth, neither the body and soul of man, nor the nature and virtue thereof, how should we attain to the knowledge of Heaven and of those spiritual natures, of God and of his works? And if we can not comprehend in ourselves the works of our soul how shall we understand the works of GOD in the whole world? And if we be not able to conceive them, doth it follow therefore that he doth them not? and yet there are many that conclude after that manner. For they believe no more than they are able to know and comprehend by their natural reason, according as they deal also with their soul. For because they understand not what is the proper essence of it, neither can see it after it is entered into the body and joined therewith, nor yet when it departeth away, therefore they conclude, that it is no other thing, but as it were a fire that lasteth so long as there is matter agreeable to the nature of it, and is quenched when that faileth. But for that which you delivered to us, ASER, of the sayings of certain touching the diverse kinds of souls, and the powers of every one of them, it seemeth to me that (understanding them as you say these men do) one of these three things will follow of their opinion. Of the distinction of the soul from the powers there of. For they must of necessity yield to this, either that the soul of man is partly immortal and partly mortal: or that a man hath three souls, one immortal and two mortal: or lastly, that the powers of the reasonable soul, which we call Sensitive and Vegetative, are not of the proper essence and substance thereof, but only of the body, and that they are instruments of the reasonable soul, as members thereof. For I doubt not but they will readily confess this, that the soul is immortal: and if that part of the soul which they call Vegetative and Sensitive, be of the self same essence and substance, in that respect it shall be mortal. Now if we so distinguish all these three sorts of souls in man, that we make three kinds of them, the first and principal shall be immortal, and the other two mortal. And if they will say, that they take not the vegetative and sensitive soul in man, for two diverse kinds of souls, but only for two sundry powers of the reasonable soul, I demand of them whether these two powers are so joined unto it, that it may be a soul as it is, both without them and with them, even as before we said that it might be with the body and without the body. I doubt not but every one will answer me to this question, according to that opinion he hath conceived of the nature of man's soul. If the question be made touching the soul of beasts, the Philosophers agree well amongst themselves herein, that it is of the same matter of which their bodies are compounded, The soul of the beast is of a corporal substance. whether it be derived and taken from the same, or whether it be the propriety of the matter. Therefore they mean, that it is the Vital spirit only therein that giveth life unto them, which is of a corporal matter and substance: or else that it is the temperature or temperament of the whole body generally, which is the propriety of that matter. And so the soul in beasts shallbe the life itself, of which the Vital spirits, or the temperament are the instruments. Which seemeth to agree well with that which Moses saith, Gen. 9 4. That the soul of the flesh in the blood thereof, Levi. 17. 14. that is to say, the life, according as we showed when we spoke of the nature of blood, and of those means by which it giveth life to the creatures. For when Moses speaketh so, a man might say that it is as much in effect as if he said, that the blood is as it were the pipe and instrument that conveyeth life to the body, and that the Vital spirits are the thing that giveth motion & sense to the body, which is the same that we call Soul: neither is there any inconvenience to yield to this in regard of the soul of beasts. And albeit we see not with the eye how these Vital spirits, or the temperament of all the parts of the body, do give unto it that life which it hath, yet a man may judge and have some knowledge hereof by the things we see in nature, which have some agreement and resemblance with this. For we conceive well, The Vital spirit compared to the flame of a lamp. how the flame is nourished by the oil and match that is in a lamp, or by the wax and week that is in a candle. In which we see two sorts of matter differing one from another, joined both together. Besides, we see how that by means of this conjunction, and of the temperature and agreement that these two matters have each with other, the flame being kindled in them, is nourished and preserved. So likewise we propound the Vital spirit in the bodies of living creatures, It is engendered of the blood in the heart. as a thin flame engendered of the blood by virtue of the heart: and this flieth as it were throughout all the parts of the body, distributing unto it Vital heat, which quickeneth it, and endueth it with that virtue by which it hath motion and sense, and exerciseth all her actions, so that every member doth his office. Now we see well in this comparison the matter that is in the lamp or in the candle, and the temperature and agreement that is between the parts of it, and how the flame is fed and maintained after it is lighted. We may see also from whence this flame is brought to the lamp, and how this matter is lighted, and that neither the matter, nor the agreement and temperature thereof breed this flame of themselves, but that it is brought from elsewhere. In like manner, we may easily conceive that which hath been told us of the vital spirit, and of the blood whereof it is bred, and of the virtue and power of the heart in the generation of it. But one may say unto me, that there is great difference between the comparison we made of a lamp or candle, and of his flame, and between that which we have spoken of the generation of the vital spirit, because this flame, which we call the vital spirit, springeth of the selfsame matter, by which it is nourished & preserved, & is kindled there. And therefore it were requisite that we should further know what is the cause of this, as also why the life and motion that are therein, are inflamed by this vital spirit, and not by any other means whatsoever, whether it be the blood or the flesh. And yet this spirit is as well of a corporal and bodily matter, as all the rest, of which the body is compounded: so that it hath his original of the selfsame elements from whence that matter is derived, out of which it springeth. But of such inquisitors I would likewise demand, from whence the heavens, the Sun and Moon, with the other planets and stars have their motion, God the author of nature. their light and properties. It is very certain they can yield me no other true cause, but that God hath created them of that nature, that he hath so framed them, and that he always preserveth them such, by the divine virtue and power of his providence. So I say to them, that we ought not to search for any other cause or reason of that we mentioned before, or go any further, or mount higher in the inquisition thereof. But forasmuch as that which we have now delivered of the nature and matter of the Soul, is proper to that Sensitive and Sensual soul which we attribute to beasts, we must come more particularly to that that is proper to men, which we call the reasonable soul. This is that matter and point, about which the greatest and most ingenious wits have most laboured and disputed from time to time. Sundry opinion of the reasonable soul. For they that affirmed the soul of man to be no other thing then the Vital and Animal spirits, by means of which the body receiveth life, or the temperature and temperament of the humours, and matter of which the body is compounded, these men put no difference between the soul of beasts, and the soul of men. And as for them that take it to be the breath, or a fire of which the natural heat proceedeth, they jump in opinion with the former, who place it in the Vital spirits. And they that say it is in the harmony of the whole body, are of the same mind with them that place it in the temperament. So that according to the opinion of all these, the soul of man is nothing else but natural heat, or else the Vital spirit that is in the blood: as the Physicians commonly take it, whose consideration reacheth not farther than to that they can comprehend by their natural reason, following therein Hypocrates, who agreeable to this opinion saith, that the soul is daily engendered, after that manner, which we have already declared. But they that more diligently look into the properties and excellent gifts, The soul proceedeth not from the elements. wherewith the reasonable soul is endued, know assuredly by their natural reason, that these opinions are very unworthy the noble excellency thereof, and that they are of no force in regard thereof. For they judge very well, that the understanding and reason with the discourses thereof, that the judgement and such memory as it hath, that the discerning of good and evil, of things honest and dishonest, of virtues and vices, with the knowledge of human and divine things whereof it is partaker, are works and actions, which cannot proceed from such matter as the elements are, as we have touched elsewhere. Whereupon it followeth, that it is some other thing then the Vital spirit, or the temperament of the body: and that it is of a far differing nature from that of beasts, which consisteth in these things. And by the same reason also they conclude, that if the soul of man were of any such matter as to be the Vital spirit, or the temperament of the body, it would follow that it were mortal like to the body, and that nothing should remain of it after the death thereof. Which thing they find to be too much contrary unto that, which a man may judge of the nature and substance of the soul by those effects of it, that were even now mentioned: which effects are such as cannot agree to a corruptible and mortal nature, nor to any other then to a celestial and immortal nature, like to that of the Angels and blessed spirits, which are endued with such virtues. But I desire to hear thee, ARAM, upon the things now spoken of, that thou mayest go on with the matter of our discourses. Of the opinion of Galen, of Plat●, and of Aristotle, touching the substance and nature of man's soul: of the opinion of Occam touching the Vegetatine and Sensitive power thereof, and of the distinction of souls he maketh in man: of the sentence of the Platonists, and of Origen touching the creation, birth and nature of the soul: of the conjunction of the Soul with the body, and the estate thereof in the same. Chap. 83. ARAM. The Ancients speaking of man, often call him a great miracle: and indeed the more we bend our minds to consider of it, the more marvelous weshal find it to be. Insomuch as in the particular contemplation of the soul, which is truly man, I would gladly ask whether it were better, either to discourse Philosophically of this matter having store of argument, or by way of admiration to cry out with S. Paul, Rom. 11. 33. O the deepness of the riches, both of the wisdom, and knowledge of God Nevertheless being drawn on with the same desire that hath hitherto pricked us forward, to search out and to be instructed in the truth, according to my knowledge I will go forward ARAM, with thy speech. For the causes then alleged by thee, out of them that consider more diligently the properties & excellent gifts of the soul, Galens' opinion of the soul. although Galen, who otherwise was a profane man in respect of the knowledge of God, and an idolatrous worshipper of nature, durst not boldly determine what the reasonable soul was, yet as for that which is commonly called the vegetative or nourishing, Gal. d● pl●s▪ Hip. and the sensitive or sensual soul, he feareth not boldly to affirm, that it is no other thing then either the natural and vital spirits, or the temperament. But as for the reasonable soul, he leaveth it in doubt whether it be of a bodily nature, or of some other that is not corporal, and which subsisteth by itself being separated from the body. Neither doth he conclude any other thing, but that it is either a shining substance, and an ethereal body, that is to say, of a more pure and celestial nature than any of the elements: or else that it is of a nature that is not corporal, but yet hath this body, by which he meaneth the animal spirit, to be as a chariot to carry it. Plato's opinion touching the soul. Plato before him said, that souls were little portions taken from the substance of the celestial fires: and he maketh three parts of a man's soul, dividing them according to the principal parts of the body, and those instruments which they have in the same. Which division is understood of some, as if he made so many sorts of souls, as we have showed that there are principal powers and offices, which have their several seats and places assigned unto them in the body. Therefore Galen maintaineth, that the vegetative and sensitive soul is no other thing then the temperament of the liver and of the heart, which are assigned to be the seats and chief instruments of the nourishing and vital power and virtue. And as for the animal or reasonable power, whose seat is commonly placed in the brain, we have already showed his opinion. Now of this part, there are many, even of them who greatly magnify it, that are not yet well resolved whether they ought to take it for the animal spirit, or for the temperament, or for an incorporeal nature that cometh elsewhere then from the body. Aristotle's opinion of the soul. Aristotle he calleth the soul by a new Greek name, that signifieth as much as a perpetual motion, and saith that it proceedeth from a fift nature and beginning, which he calleth Heaven. But he speaketh not so plainly, that a man may judge by his words, what he thinketh of the reasonable soul in man, whether it be mortal or immortal. Nevertheless he confesseth, that there is great difference between that power of the soul, which we call more specially by the name of spirit, and between the other twain, which he calleth the Nutritive and Sensitive powers. For he useth this word Powers, and affirmeth, that these two first proceed only from the body, and are bred there, and that the Vegetative soul and power is more in the seed and burden, than the Sensitive. But as for the third, he saith plainly, that it only cometh from without elsewhere, and that this only is divine, not communicating her action with any corporal action. Thus we see sufficient agreement between the Philosophers and the Physicians concerning the Vegetative and Sensitive soul or power: but there is not so good accord about the reasonable soul and power. Yea many great Divines & Doctors agree with them in the two first points. occam's opinion of the soul. For this cause Occam saith plainly, that there are two distinct souls in man, the one reasonable, the other sensual: the reason is, because it is manifest, that the Sensitive soul hath no actions, but instrumental, that is to say, by means of those instruments whereby she exerciseth her actions, and from which she hath them. Whereupon he concludeth, that this sensual soul seemeth to have her original and generation from the seed, and that it is either the temperament, or some faculty and power in the body. He confirmeth this opinion by another argument taken from the contrary appetites and desires of the reasonable and sensual soul: out of which he draweth this conclusion, That it is very likely that these are two distinct substances, because it seemeth inconvenient, in one and the same nature not divided or distinguished to place appetites so wholly contrary each to other, He addeth farther, that it is a thing very agreeable to nature, that every living creature should beget his like: therefore man begetteth man like himself, at leastwise in respect of the Sensitive soul, if not of the reasonable soul. Whereupon it followeth, that the Vegetative and Sensitive soul proceed from the nature of the seed. Of the creation of souls according to the Platonists. The Platonical Philosophers were of opinion, that souls were bred in heaven, and were taken out of the divine nature as a portion thereof, and that there they were instructed and adorned with sundry sciences, with knowledge and virtue: and that afterward being given of God, they descended from thence into the bodies of men, as into stinking, filthy, and contagious prisons. Whereof it followed, that through the infection of these prisons they were corrupted by evil affections, as it were with the filthiness of them. So that they forgot all those gifts and celestial virtues where with they had been endued and adorned in their first birth, and which they had brought with them. And being thus detained as prisoners in this dark and filthy prison, they could no more use all those goodly gifts, but only so far forth as they were taught and instructed again by doctrine, which in respect of them may be compared to a light brought to prisoners kept in a dark dungeon, to light & refresh them. For this cause those that were of this opinion affirmed, that the knowledge of men is but a remembrance and calling again to mind of that which their souls had learned and did know in heaven at their first birth, before they entered into their bodies, according as we heard even now. For being descended into this base and obscure prison, and having forgotten that which they knew, their memories are rubbed up by doctrine and instruction bestowed upon them, which kindleth again these celestial sparkles of their mind, and portions of the divine fire, by inflaming them and causing them to burn, that were almost utterly quenched. Whereupon like Philosophers they conclude, that souls so infected by descending and entering into their bodies, cannot return again nor be received into heaven, and into the place assigned for the blessed spirits, unless they return pure and clean, & decked with the selfsame ornaments wherewith they were adorned at their first birth. And this (they say) may be wrought by good instruction, by virtue & by good works: or otherwise they say they have sundry purge being separated from their bodies. Some divines among the Grecians have followed, at least wise in some part, the opinion of these philosophers, Lib 11. chap. 23. of the city of God. & by name Origen, of whom S. August. thus writeth: But we may marvel much more, that some believing with us, that there is but one only beginning of all things, & that no nature which is not God, can have any being but from the Creator, nevertheless would not believe rightly and simply this point of the creation of the world that is so good and simple, namely, that God creating all those good things that were after him, although they were not the same that God is, notwithstanding they were all good. But they say, that the souls not being parts of God, but made of God, sinned in departing from the Lord, and so by sundry degrees according to to the diversity of sins, from the heavens unto the earth, have merited sundry sorts of bodies to be as it were their chains and fetters. This say they, is the world, and this was the cause of making the world, not to the end that the good things might be created, but that evil things might be stayed and repressed. Origens' opinion of souls. Of this opinion is Origen, who is worthily to be blamed. These are the very words of this great Doctor of the Church. And by that which followeth in the same place, he plainly confuteth Origens' error, who in his first book of Beginnings writeth, that things without bodies were first made of God: and that amongst spiritual things, our spirits or minds were also created, which declining from their estate and dignity were made or named souls, of which the Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifieth, as it were to grow cold, and to decline from a better and more divine estate; being so called, because it seemeth that the spirit or mind is waxed cold, & fallen from this natural and divine heat. Therefore the soul lieth now in this estate and condition, but when it is repaired & amended, it shall return again to the condition of a spirit or mind. Which being so, it seemeth that the departing and declining of the soul is not alike in all, but is turned either more or less in the soul: and that some spirits or minds do yet retain somewhat of their first vigour, other some, either nothing at all or very little. These souls by reason of many defects of the spirit, stood in need of more gross and solid bodies: so that for their sakes, this visible world was made & created so great, that it might contain all those souls which were appointed to be exercised therein. And forasmuch as all of them did not departed alike from goodness, the Creator of all things took unto himself certain seeds and causes of variety, to the end that according to the diversity of sins, he might make the world variable and divers. This is Origens' sentence concerning souls, which selfsame opinion we may read also in Saint Hierome writing to Anitus: whereby we may see how this opinion agreeth in part with that of the Platonists. For the greatest disagreement between them consisteth herein, that these Philosophers attributed the cause of the infection of souls to the bodies into which they were sent from heaven. And Origen, with many that followed him, supposed that the souls were sent into bodies as prisoners, to be punished for their offences committed in heaven. From such fancies have issued so many dreams about souls as are to be read in infinite writings. But do thou, ACHITOB, take occasion hereupon to continue our discourses. Of the opinion of the Platonists, and some others touching the substance of men's souls: in what sense not only the Poets and Heathen Philosophers, but also S. Paul have said, that men were the generation and Image of God: of their error that say, that souls are of the very substance of God: of the transmigration of souls according to the opinion of the same Philosophers. Chap. 84. ACHITOB. It is wonderful to consider, how hard a matter it is to find out the truth of such things, as are commonly disputed of, because notwithstanding any solution or answer that is made, yet still some doubt may arise in our minds: insomuch as there is no point how doubtful soever it be, but that a man may allege likelihood both with it and against it. But this cometh to pass, especially in matters of greatest reach, the difficulty of which is so much the harder to be defined, as the true knowledge thereof is more necessary for us. Those men therefore are happy, who are assured of that which they believe, by certain testimonies cut of the word of truth: especially when the question is concerning the soul, which is the instrument of God whereby he worketh in us, and lifteth us up to the contemplation of his divinity. Now my companions, by your three former discourses we may gather both what agreement and what difference there is amongst those whom you have mentioned, touching their opinions, as well in regard of the birth of souls, as of their distinction, division, and corruption. For they agree herein, that they are not engendered with the body, neither of the same seed and matter, at leastwise the reasonable soul: but say that it is of a celestial, divine and immortal nature. But herein they disagree, in respect of the nature of the matter, and about the time, creation, and birth of the soul, and also in regard of the means, by which it is defiled and infected with sin. The Platonists affirm, The Platonists opinion of the soul confuted. that the soul is so extracted out of the divine nature, that it is a part and portion thereof. Which thing cannot agree with the nature of God, because it would follow thereupon, that it were not one, but might be divided into divers parts: and that those parts of which the souls should be created, might be subject to the pollution of sin, a thing too contrary to the nature of God. Or else they must say, that there is but one soul in all and through all, and that God is this soul. And this were to f●l into their opinion who said, that God was the soul of the world, God is not the soul of the world. and that the world was his body: which is far from the truth. For if it were so, then must God be mortal and corruptible in respect of his body, and that still one part or other should be corrupted, as we see corporal things daily to corrupt. On the other side, God should not then be infinite and incomprehensible, as he is: neither is it the world that comprehendeth and containeth him, but it is he who comprehendeth & containeth the world. Wherefore neither is the world God, neither is God the world, but the Creator thereof, and he by whom it is and doth consist. So that forasmuch as all these opinions are very strange, and unworthy the divine nature, they deserve not that we should stay any longer in them, as they that overthrow themselves. But I know well, that some would have that place alleged out of the Poet by Saint Paul, to serve their fantastical opinion, Act. 17. 28. where it is said, that We are the lineage and generation of God. Arat. For Saint Paul doth not allege it only as an opinion of an Heathen Poet, Phae. but doth also approve and confirm the same, taking his argument from thence, that our soul being of a spiritual and divine nature, we ought to make the same account of God, How men are the lineage of God. whose lineage and generation we are. Now albeit the Apostle speaketh thus, yet his meaning is not that the souls of men are of the very substance and essence of God, as we say that the Father, the Son, and the holy Ghost, are one and the same essence and substance in the the unity of God, being distinguished, and not divided into three persons. Neither doth he mean, that the souls are engendered of the proper essence and substance of God, or that they proceed from it, as we say that the son is begotten of the Father, and that the holy spirit proceedeth from the Father and the Son, according as it is testified unto us in the holy Scriptures. But he would have us learn, that the soul of man is of another nature and substance, not only then the body of man is, but also then the soul of beasts, and that the nature and substance thereof is celestial and divine, not because it is drawn from the very substance and essence of God, but by reason of that difference which is between the soul of man, and the bodies and souls of beasts: and also in regard of that agreement which is between it and the divine nature, both because of the immortality of the soul, as because it approacheth more near to the nature of God then of any other creature, except the Angels, whom we say also are of a divine nature and celestial, for the like reason. For if the Angels and souls of men were of the proper substance and essence of God, they should not be creatures, but Gods themselves, equal in substance and essence with him, as we say of the Son begotten of the Father, and of the holy Ghost proceeding from them both, in the matter of the unity & trinity of the divine nature: which by this means should be divided into parts, and so nothing at all resemble the fountain and substance from which they are drawn, as I showed even now. And albeit the Philosophers and Heathen Poets did not so well understand this matter as Saint Paul, nevertheless when they said, that the soul of man was of the divine nature and part thereof, it is very likely they had regard to the reasons touched by me, not meaning that it was of the very substance and essence of God. I speak of them that were of greatest understanding and that wrote best: and namely of them that did best understand the Philosophy of Plato. For he confesseth and testifieth plainly, that the Angels themselves both good and bad, whom in his language he calleth daemons, Plato's opinion of Daemons, or celestial spirits. as the other Grecians do, are creatures of another essence and substance than God is of, and that they are not immortal of themselves, but have their immortality of God their Creator, who both giveth it and preserveth them in it, and could take it from them if he would, and dissolve them as well as he hath made them. Now if he supposed God to speak so to his Angels, and to declare these things unto them, a man may easily judge, that he placeth not the souls of men above the Angels, whom he taketh to be of a more excellent nature, as he showeth evidently by that which he hath written of them both. In which writing we may see many things touching these matters, which come nearer to the doctrine of the holy Scriptures and of true religion, then in the writings of many others, who yielded no further than they were able to know and conceive by natural things, without going any further. For they do not conceive so well either of the nature of God, or of that of Angels, or of the souls of men, as this Philosopher doth. Moreover, we are to know, that Plato had other helps, and more light them from his natural reason, whereby he attained to the understanding of that, which others were ignorant of, who busied themselves only about nature and natural things. Plato dwelled with the Egyptians. For he conversed with the Egyptians, as Pythagoras did before him, of whom they learned many points touching divine things, which they should never have learned of the Grecians, nor out of their Philosophy. For the Egyptians had great acquaintance and familiarity with the people of Israel that dwelled in their land, and with many of the ancient patriarchs, of whom they had learned many things of the divinity, and of the nature of souls. But all they that have been destitute of the chief light of the spirit of God, have still mingled many dreams a midst their writings, as we have already heard, and shall hear more in the sequel of our speech. Yet first we will note, how not only many amongst the Heathen Philosophers, but also amongst the Christians have imagined that the souls of men are the substance of God. I omit to speak of the Heretics, as the Priscilianists, and some others that have been of this opinion, Lactautius' lib. 2. cap. 13. but I wonder at Lactantius, a man of a right Christian heart, who seemeth to have been of this opinion. And there have been some, that reasoned after this manner, that if it be to be understood, that of the breath issuing forth out of the mouth of God, the soul was created and inspired into the body of man, than it followeth thereupon, that it is of his very substance, and equal to that wisdom which sayeth, Ecclus. 24. 5. I am come out of the mouth of the most High. But that wisdom saith not, that she was breathed out of the mouth of God, but that she came out of it. Now as when we breath, we make a blast, not of our nature whereby we are men, but of this air round about us, which we draw in and out by breathing: The Soul created of nothing. so the Almighty God made a blast, not of his nature, nor of this creature of the air round about us, but even of nothing. Which was said very fitly to have been inspired or breathed, when it was created in the body of man by God, who being himself incorporeal, and not of a bodily substance, made the soul also incorporeal: but yet he being unchangeable, made the soul mutable, because himself being uncreated made that a creature. But let us go on with the Philosophy of the Platonists. We have heard their opinion touching the birth of souls, their entry into the body, and the pollution which they receive thereby: namely, that the souls of men are created long before their bodies, but are afterward sent into them when they are begotten and borne in the world, at which time they are defiled, Of the transmigration of souls. as hath been declared. But further, according to the opinion of Pythagoras, who is said to be the first Author thereof, they imagined, that after a soul was once entered into a body, it never ceased to go from body to body, entering into one body out of another. So that when it went out of one body it entered into another, whether it were of a man, or of a beast, or of a plant. For they put no difference between the bodies of any living creatures whatsoever: but spoke, as if every soul were fit for every body: so that according as every soul guided and governed itself in that body in which it had lived before, it was received into another body, being such a one as it had deserved, either by her vices, or by her virtues. Therefore those that had taken the way of virtue, entered into human bodies worthy their virtue, into such as had been called to honourable offices and estates: and as virtue had prevailed most with every one, so were they more or less honoured in their bodies. And if so be they had led a brutish rather than a human and reasonable life, they passed into the bodies of plants, or of beasts, whose nature resembled the life which they had led in their former bodies. The regeneration of the Pythagoreans. This Transmigration of Souls they called Regeneration, because it was unto them as it were a generation and new birth, in respect of their life and conversation, which before they led in the world. Moreover, they accounted this regeneration to be a kind of purgation and satisfaction, because that by this means every soul was punished or rewarded, honoured or dishonoured, according to her worthiness or unworthiness, and that so long until she were reduced to her first and right estate. There have been Heretics of old, A fond opinion of certain Heretics. who following the opinion of the Platonists, affirmed, that no soul could be fully purged and be at rest, and cease from passing out of one body into another, until such time as it hath done and finished whatsoever can be done in the world, whether good or evil: accounting both evil deeds and good deeds, vices as well as virtues to be a kind of penance and purgation of souls. Besides, these Heretics affirmed, as the Libertines their successors do the like in our days, that there was no sin but only in the opinion and fancy of men, and that it is but a conceit in their mind that breedeth this opinion. Now when I think upon this manner of regeneration and passage of the soul from one body to another, Against the transmigration of souls. I muse how it is possible that ever any men, especially those that are taken for such great Philosophers, should fall into such foppery, and above all how Plato should be of that opinion, who is by them surnamed, The divine, For first of all, we have already learned by our discourses of the nature both of body and soul, that the soul cannot dwell nor exercise her offices in any other then in the body of a man, seeing that is the true form and perfection of man and of that kind, without which he cannot be man. We may say the same of the soul of beasts and of plants. For if every creature had not his proper form, and some thing in which the perfection of it consisteth, without which it cannot be that which it is, and by which it differeth in kind from other creatures, there would be a wonderful confusion throughout all nature, yea the whole order thereof would be overturned. For all kinds of nature should be confounded together, neither should there be any one kind certain and distinct: which thing is contrary to all natural reason, and to all order appointed by God. Therefore it is a very hard matter to believe, that ever any man of a sound mind and good judgement, would admit of such a fantastical opinion. But we may learn of thee, ASER, in proceeding with the matter of our discourse, what thou hast learned of skilful men concerning this that Plato hath written of transmigration of souls. The chief causes, as learned men think, that moved Pythagoras, and Plato to broach the transmigration of souls and transformation of bodies: the ancient opinion of the jews touching the same thing. Chap. 85. ASER. The world was never without certain witty men, that boasted they could answer upon a sudden to any thing that should be demanded of them. And there have been always some others, that in every controversy and disputation maintained one while this part, and by and by the contrary: which hath given occasion as I think, to certain of the ancient Philosophers to believe, that a man can know nothing perfectly, and that no man ought certainly to determine any thing otherwise then upon his bare and simple opinion. But in my mind this consideration will find but few defenders now adays, except it be amongst the ignorant, who leaving all search of things, live only at all adventure, or else amongst them that believe every thing that is told them, and are led with every sentence, which they hear of others, without any further inquiry made of the reason thereof. Now as we would be loath to perish with the ignorant, so we must beware that we commit not ourselves and our belief so easily to the danger of other men's errors. And in deed oftentimes we judge not aright of their meaning, namely when the question is concerning the sense of their writing. As I purpose to let you see my companions, in that which hath been already spoken of Plato. I have learned of many skilful men, Why Plato invented the transmigration of souls. that Pythagoras and Plato never believed that transmigration of souls into many bodies, which we read in their writings, but that by these feigned kinds of speech, their meaning was rather to withdraw men from beastly affections, unworthy their nature, and thereby to paint out and to express the diversity of those affections, and to set them as it were before their eyes: thereby to declare unto them, how by reason of their unruly affections they resemble all other creatures, and chiefly brute beasts. Wherefore we may with good reason call man a little world, if there were no other cause but this, albeit in this respect it standeth not with his honour and credit. For there is no kind of beast whatsoever, nor yet of any other creature unto which he doth not in some sort transform himself by his affections and by his manners and vices. For when he pleaseth, he transformeth himself one while into a sheep, then into a wolf, again into a fox, or into a hog, or into a dog, or into a bear, or into a Lion, or into some other such like beast. Moreover, sometimes he transfigureth himself, not only into one kind of beast, but into many together,, and yet those very differing and contrary the one from the other. And as he can at his pleasure transform himself into an Angel, so doth he likewise turn himself into a Devil. Man's nature compared to a Monster. It is not then altogether void of reason that Plato sayeth, that the nature of man is as it were a monstrous nature: yea he compareth it to a Monster, whose uppermost part resembleth a Virgin: whose breast, which is the midst, is like to a Lion: and the lowest part, to a barking and bawling dog. For he compareth the highest part to a Virgin, because he placeth reason in the head, as in the proper seat thereof, and of the animal powers of the Soul, for their nature and office sake. Next, he saith that the breast resembleth a Lion, because he taketh the heart to be the seat of the Vital power of the Soul, and also of the affections, that often may well be likened to a Lion and to furious beasts. Lastly, he compareth the lower parts to dogs, because that part is appointed to be the seat of the natural and nourishing power of the soul, and of the generative virtue, as that which is very brutish and given to all carnal pleasures, How men become like to beasts. and chiefly to fornication. If then a man cannot moderate his affections and concupiscences, he maketh himself like to so many beasts, as he hath affections holding of their nature. This also is the cause, why the spirit of God in the holy Scriptures, so often compareth men to sundry sorts of beasts, to teach us that they are as it were transformed into them, and into hideous and horrible monsters, to the end they might be the more ashamed of themselves: and that knowing how they turn themselves into beasts and into Devils by their vices, they should learn also, how contrariwise through virtue they become men of beasts, and angels of Devils. Therefore it is very like, that Pythagoras and Plato had respect to this which hath been said in those transformations and transmigrations of souls of which they spoke. I think also that the Poets, following the same invention have for the like reason, feigned the transformations of men into divers beasts, and into other creatures forged by them: but men through ignorance have taken them in a wrong sense, The ignorant wrest the sense of good writers. and so reaped small profit by them. No marvel then if this hath happened both to Philosophers and Poets in their doctrine and manner of teaching, seeing there are so many that profit so little by the doctrine of the holy Scriptures themselves, and by the study thereof. For were there ever any Heretics, that did not wrest the sense of many places of Scripture to make them serve for their heresies? And do we not daily see the like in all seducers and false prophets? It is very certain, that there were never any so absurd and strange heresies, which the favourers of them have not laboured to maintain by the holy Scriptures themselves. But to return to our purpose, what meaning soever the Authors and inventors of such things had, their doctrine was so understood, that many held this opinion, that men's souls passed from body to body, as we have heard. Insomuch that this error how gross soever it were, came not only to the jews, but to the Christians also, who boast of true religion, and of the authority and knowledge of the holy Scriptures. I speak not of the Manichees ancient Heretics, who were open maintainers of this opinion. But what shall we say of them, who not only have their brains infected with this folly, but, which is worse, imagine they can confirm and prove it by testimonies out of the word of God? As where it is reported, that when Herode heard the fame of Christ jesus spread throughout all judea, Math. 14. 2. he said, mark 6. 14. This is john Baptist: he is risen again from the dead, and therefore great works are wrought by him. And Saint Luke sayeth expressly, Luke 9 7, 8. That Herode doubted, because that it was said of some, that john was risen again from the dead: and of some, that Elias had appeared: and of some, that one of the old Prophets was risen again. We read likewise that when jesus Christ demanded of his disciples, Mat. 16. 13, 14. saying, Whom do men say that I, luke 9 19 the Son of man am? they answered, Some say, john Baptist: and some Elias: others, jeremias, or one of the Prophets: and some that one of the old Prophetsis risen again. Of the jews opinion of the transmigration of souls. A man my judge by these speeches, that not only Herode was tainted with this Pythagorical and Platonical opinion, but also that it was very common among the jews with whom he conversed, and whose religion he followed, at least in part and in outward show. For jesus Christ was known well enough in judea, and in Galilee, and amongst all the jews, as it appeareth by the testimony of the Evangelists. They knew his kindred according to the flesh, and could tell that he was brought up in Nazareth in the country of Galilee: Mark. 6. 3. for which cause they called him him a Galilean, matt. 13 55, 56 a Nazarean, iohn. 6. 42. a Carpenter, the son of a Carpenter, and the son of joseph and Marie. They said that they knew his brethren and sisters, whereby according to the Hebrew manner of speaking, they meant his cousins, Nieces and his kindred: taking occasion thereby to despise and reject him. But on the other side, many seeing the works and miracles which he wrought, were constrained to pass farther, even Herode himself, hearing only the fame that went of him throughout the country: so that some took him to be that Christ, others, to be some great Prophet. And of them that held him for a Prophet, it appeareth by those sundry opinions that were among the people, that they did not think him to be a Prophet borne at that time, but that some one of the old Prophets was risen again in him, not in body but in spirit. For they knew well whence he issued in respect of his body, as that which was commonly known throughout the country. Therefore it is easy to judge that they spoke of resurrection in regard of the soul, as the skilfullest Interpreters expound these places, referring these speeches of Herode and of the people unto that Pythagorical opinion, of the transmigration of souls from body to body. For according thereunto, those souls that had behaved themselves virtuously in their first bodies in which they dwelled, were sent into other more honourable bodies, endued with greater gifts of God according to their deserving. Now because Saint john the Baptist had not the gift of miracles annexed to his ministery, neither did work any all his life time, it might be thought that this gave occasion to Herode to think thus of him, that being risen again from the dead after a Pythagorical manner, he had this gift and virtue added unto his former graces, that so he might have the greater authority. Neither ought we to think it very strange, if a great part of the jews were infected with many foolish and naughty opinions, seeing they were not only corruptly instructed by their teachers, but also had sects amongst them there, which plainly denied the resurrection of the body, the immortality of souls, and that there was any Angel or spirit. Therefore we see their great brutishness who would ground their transmigration, upon that which is said in the Scriptures touching the opinion of the jews in this point, which notwithstanding is openly reprehended and condemned by the selfsame word of GOD. True it is, that the ignorance of the true sense thereof gave occasion to many to fall into such dreams. For the Lord speaking thus by Malachi, Mala. 4. 5. Behold I will send you Elijah the Prophet, before the coming of the great and fearful day of the Lord, the jews understood this place diversly. Some of them thought, that the ancient Prophet Elias, who was rapt up into heaven, should be sent again in proper person: others understood it only of the transmigration of his soul and spirit into an other body. john 1. 21. For this cause they asked of john Baptist whether he were Elias: but jesus Christ himself expounded those words of Malachy, Matth. 11. 14. and 17. 12, 13 and declared unto the jews that john Baptist was that Elias which should come, and that although he were come yet they did not know him. For when he spoke so of him, he meant not that he was the very person of Elias in body and soul, or that the natural soul and spirit of Elias was entered into his body: but his meaning was according as the Angel spoke to Zachary, when he told him of the Nativity of Saint john his son, Luke 1. 15, 16, 17. saying, He shall be filled with the holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb. And many of the children of Israel shall he turn to their Lord God. For he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias. A man may easily judge by these words, that he meant not to say, that the natural spirit of Elias should enter into the body of Saint john Baptist, but that God would give a spirit adorned with such gifts and spiritual graces, and with such zeal and constancy as he gave long before to Elias. Therefore he addeth power unto spirit, thereby to declare the better what is meant by Spirit. And before he showed the means whereby this spirit should be given him, when he said, that he should be filled with the holy Ghost from his mother's womb: that is, with the gifts and graces thereof, as the Scripture calleth them ordinarily. Afterwards also, the Angel declareth more at large, after what manner Saint john came in the power and spirit of Elias, signifying that he ought to behave himself and to do as Elias had done in his time, and as Malachy had foretold of him. Moreover, we have in the Scripture other kinds of speaking, that agree very fitly with this of the Angel, so that the one may well serve to open the other. For it is written of Moses, Numb. 11. 25. that the Lord did separate of the spirit that was upon him, and did put it upon the seventy ancient men, whom he appointed under him to be an help and comfort unto him in the government of the people of Israel: and when the spirit rested upon them they prophesied continually. Every one knoweth, that the spirit of Moses whereof the Lord speaketh, is not his natural spirit: but that he meaneth by this spirit, part of the gifts and graces which Moses had received of the Lord, such as were necessary for their charge: as likewise he gave to Moses according to the charge committed to him. Some also understand this separation of the spirit of Moses, to be only a communication of the graces of the spirit of God, like to those which Moses had received for his charge that was given to those, who were joined unto him for his help. Now if we take it in this sense, we may say, that God useth this manner of speech, the better to let us understand thereby the nature of his gifts and graces, and the means he observeth in dispensing of them. For he doth not only distribute so much as is needful for them whom he mindeth to employ in his work, but giveth also unto them such manner of graces as are requisite for the work, 1. Cor. 12. 11. as Saint Paul testifieth. Besides all this, his purpose is also to teach us what agreement there is betwixt all his gifts: as likewise what unity proceedeth hereof betwixt them that are partakers of these gifts, whereby we may perceive, that they come all from one spirit, which, albeit God thereby poureth out his graces in so great abundance, is yet a fountain and sea that is not only not dried up, The fountain of God's graces diminisheth not. but not so much as any way diminished. Thus we see how one and the same Spirit of GOD governed Moses, and the rest that were joined with him, inspiring them all with his grace, and distributing to every one according to his measure: as the wind is dispensed into many Organ-pipes all at once, according to their several capacity, and according to that sound which every one is to yield for the making of a good harmony: or as many Candles or Lamps are lighted by an other, with the same fire wherewith that was first tined. Also we are to understand in this sense, 2. King. 2. 9 the request that Eliseus made to Elias, when he demanded a double portion of his Spirit, because he succeeded him: in regard whereof he stood in need of such gifts and graces of God's Spirit, as Elias was guided by, that he might faithfully execute his charge as he had done before. Thus we see how places of Scripture expound one an other, and how little they help the Pythagoreans: of whom I would not have made so long a discourse, if this foppery were driven out of men's brains, and namely, among Christians. For to this day there are too many fantastical heads (I say not amongst true Christians) but amongst them that falsely bear that name, who are as much or rather more infected herewith, than any Pythagoreans or Platonists in former times. And for this cause, AMANA, I leave you to go on with this point, that afterwards we may return to our chief matter of the nature, generation, and immortality of the soul. Of the Pythagoreans of these days amongst Christians, and of their foolish opinions: of the opinions of many doctors and divines touching the creation and ordinary generation of men's souls: of the moderation that ought to be kept in that matter: of the cause of the filthiness and corruption of man's soul. Chap. 86. AMANA. There was never yet any opinion, error, or heresy so strange or monstrous in the world, which hath not always found men enough to receive it, so that there were authors and masters to broach it abroad. For God doth thus punish the curiosity, ingratitude, malice, and perverseness of men, and that contempt of his word and truth, which is ordinarily in them, together with the pleasure and delight they take in vanity and lies. Wherefore God through his just judgement delivereth them up into a reprobate sense, insomuch as they can not but reject the truth continually and embrace that which is false, Esay 29. 14. according as he often threatened them, 2. tim. 3. 2, 3. and foretold it by his Prophets and Apostles. 2. thes. 2. 10, 11. And this is the cause why the Pythagoreans do at this day find men void of sense and understanding who cleave to their fantastical opinions, and why Epicures and Atheists are never without a great number of disciples. Now albeit these men be in truth most blockish & gross beasts, yet we cannot persuade them so, nor many others also, who imagine they know much. The Pythagoreans of our time. For there are even doctors and some that read lectures in Universities, who keep not their opinion of the transmigration of souls so secret to themselves, but they make some profession thereof, at leastwise amongst their scholars and familiar acquaintance. There are some also, who, boasting of the knowledge of tongues & of the turning over of many antiquities, have published this fancy of theirs in books written by them: yea they themselves are persuaded, and they would make others believe the same with them, that their souls are the very souls of some famous personages that have lived heretofore in the world, & that they have already passed through many excellent bodies, which have done great things: as likewise they promise to themselves, that they shall bring to pass great matters, seeing they have their souls. True it is, that according to our manner of speaking we say sometimes of such as agree in manners with others who have lived before them, that their souls whom they resemble is entered into them, & that the others are raised up in their persons. Of the true transmigration of souls. For example sake, if there be a cruel tyrant like to Nero, we say that Nero's soul is entered into his body, and that Nero is raised up in him. But yet every one knoweth well enough, that we use to speak so by reason of the agreement of natures and of manners, not because of any transmigration of soul. And this may be spoken in respect of that Devilish spirit, which possesseth the wicked and ruleth in them: as we say of the Spirit of God's servants in regard of his virtue, that it is given to such as resemble them and have received the same graces from above. For as the holy Spirit, who wrought heretofore in others, worketh now also in them that have received like grace: even so it is said of that evil spirit in regard of the wicked, who are all led with the selfsame spirit of Satan. Wherefore he doth such works in them whom he now possesseth, as he wrought heretofore in their predecessors. So that in this sense it skilleth not though we say that the spirit of one entereth into another, who succeed him in the same wicked works. But the Pythagoreans of whom I now speak, take it not so, but as hath been already declared. And to set the more colour upon this so strange an opinion, their profaneness is such, that they dare to allege those places of Scripture, which were spoken of in the former discourse, whereby they labour to persuade themselves and others also with them, that the word of God confirmeth the same. No doubt therefore, but that they who have yet such toys in their head, are not without others also: yea, there is no question, but that there are wonderful puddles of errors and of very strange heresies in their fantastical brains, so that they are ugly monsters among men, and would be abhorred of every one, if that which they carry enclosed in their frantic heads might be seen with corporal eyes. But leaving this point, we are to return to our principal matter into which we have made some entrance, namely, the nature and original, the pollution, purgation, and immortality of the soul of man: concerning which thing, we have heard the opinion of the Philosophers, and of many that follow them. Whereupon we have to observe this, that notwithstanding any error in opinion which they held, yet they always came to this point, that they concluded the immortality of the soul. Now as touching the ancient Doctors of the Church and the late Divines, they have written diversly of the original of men's souls and of their entrance into their bodies: about which point there have been and are at this day, great disputations and controversies namely, Of the creation and generation of souls. amongst the Physicians and the Divines. Some have been of that opinion touching the generation and beginning of the soul with the body, whereof we have already spoken. But some restrain this to that soul which they call Vegetative and Sensitive, as hath been showed unto us, others comprehend also the reasonable soul therewithal. And besides that which we have spoken already touching original sin in the soul, they ground themselves upon that which is written in Genesis, how that after God had created man, who was the last in the creation of all the creatures, he rested the seventh day from the work which he had made, after he had accomplished whatsoever it pleased him to do. Therefore they conclude, that from that time forward God created not any new creatures, but having set such an order as it pleased him to appoint in the nature of things created, he preserved the same afterwards by his providence, whereby he worketh always in the guiding and conservation of his creatures, although not after that manner whereby he worketh in the creating of them. And thus he rested in regard of the work of creation, How God rested the seventh day. so as he created no more any creatures in such sort and manner as he did the first creatures in the beginning. Nevertheless, he rested not in respect of the work of his providence, which never ceaseth, but daily createth all those creatures that come newly into the world, by means of those seeds, which he hath put into every one of them according to their kinds, and by other means which he hath ordained to that purpose. Having then laid this foundation, they conclude that men's souls are not daily created of nothing, nor in such manner as the soul of the first man was created, but by that means which God then appointed for the preservation of mankind. But because they know well enough that there is great difference betwixt the souls of men and of brute beasts, they agree that God useth other means in the procreation and producing of men's souls, then in that of beasts, by the concurring of his general action, whereby he sustaineth and preserveth the natures of all things, according to that natural disposition which he hath endued them with from the beginning, agreeable to that which is written, Acts 17. 28. that In him we live, and move, and have our being. Therefore as God used other means in the creation of the soul of man, than he did in that of beasts, and placed it also in the body of man after an other fashion that was special and peculiar unto man: even so in the procreation and production of men's souls, he hath his special order for them, which differeth from the order used in the generation of the souls of beasts. And indeed he showeth very evidently, that he ruleth after another fashion in the production of men, and namely, in regard of the soul, then in that of beasts, by the excellent gifts wherewith their souls are adorned, not only in that their souls do far exceed the souls of beasts, but also in that one soul excelleth another in the nature of man: as we see it in many to whom God hath given heroical spirits, which are gifts that cannot proceed from the body. And so much for the opinion of these men. Others do not only deny the reasonable soul to be taken from any portion either of the divine nature and essence, Another opinion of the creation of the soul. or of the body of man, but they say farther, that God by his divine power and virtue createth it of nothing, after that the body of the infant is made perfect in the womb of the mother, having all the parts and members thereof. And being thus created of God, he presently placeth it within that body, which he hath appointed for the lodging of it, that it may dwell therein until after the death of the body it depart immortal out of it, as it was created immortal, and was so indeed when it entered thereinto. These men ground themselves upon that which we read in Genesis, where it is said, that after God had fashioned man of the dust of the earth, Gen. 2. 7. he breathed into him the breath of life, & he was made a living soul. For it appeareth plainly by this testimony of Moses, that the soul of the first man was not only not created together with the body, as the soul of beasts was, but also that it was given unto him of some other nature and substance. For if there were no more in it then in that of beasts, and if it had no kind of participation with the divine nature, why should God inspite it into the body of man after another fashion than he did that of beasts? and what should that inspiration or breathing of God, signify and import? We have heard already what some answer unto this. For they deny nothing of all this, but they say only, that God did then establish this order now spoken of, which he daily continueth in the generation of man. I omit here many other opinions touching this matter, which come not so near unto the truth: namely, a great controversy between the Doctors in Divinity and in Physic, touching the vegetative and sensitive soul, and the time when the burden beginneth to be nourished and to have sense thereby: considering that it is a great deal better to inquire of these things to sobriety, and to leave the resolution to GOD, who knoweth that which is hid from us, then by vain questions and curious disputations to think to determine of the matter according to truth, and to the contentation of every one. For as we have before touched, we can know nothing either of the generation, or original, or of the substance and nature of our soul, or of the immortality thereof, but only by those testimonies which by the effects it aftoordeth unto us, and which God setteth down in his word. Wherefore, according to that which hath been already handled, we must distinguish those things unto which our minds may in some sort reach, and of which we may have some knowledge, from them that are so hidden from us, that we can not know or judge of any thing, but like blind men, by groping and guessing. This is a matter then of which we must speak very soberly, The nature of the soul is not curiously to be searched after. and with great reverence of God, contenting ourselves with that which it pleaseth him to make known unto us by the means aforesaid, and go no further by desiring to know that which we can not conceive or comprehend, until such time as God himself shall give us more ample and clear knowledge thereof. And I suppose we shall not err, if we say the like touching the question propounded by us in the beginning of our speech about this matter, namely, of the means by which the reasonable soul should be infected with original sin, seeing it is not engendered of that corrupt seed of which the body is bred. How the soul is stained with sin. Let it then suffice us to know, that albeit the soul can not be defiled with sin, as it is created of God, yet as God created all mankind in Adam, so when he fell, all the rest of the world fell with him, and in him was bereaved both of original justice, and of other gifts which he lost by his fall. So that albeit men's souls are created and produced of God pure and entire, yet they keep not that purity still, neither can they be the souls of men and joined unto their bodies, and so become members of mankind in them with any other condition, then with that into which the first Father brought all his children by his sin, as we have before touched. Wherefore we must not search for the cause of that original sin wherewith they are infected, either in their creation, because they are created by God of a divine and immortal essence: or in the generation of the body and in that seed of which it is engendered, as if the soul took her original & infection together with the body from the seed. Moreover, we must not (as the Pythagoreans do) search for the corruption of souls in their entrance and conjunction with their bodies, as if they received it from them: but we must seek it in that blot of sin unto which the whole race of mankind was made subject through the fall & corruption of the first stock, and in that decree of God, whereby he hath condemned all mankind by his just judgement, without any further enquiry after the means and manner how it came to pass. For this cause Saint Paul doth bring us back to this consideration, when, in propounding unto us the first stock of mankind, Rom. 5. 12, 15. he saith, that by one man sin entered into the world, and by sin death. And then he propounded unto us this stock of sin, so on the contrary side, he propoudeth to us the stock of justice and righteousness, namely Christ jesus the; new man, who is an other stock of mankind regenerated, renewed, and reform after the image of GOD. Therefore he saith, that as by the disobedience of one man, Verse 19 many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one, many are made righteous. Now as human philosopy knoweth not, either the corruption of all mankind such as it is, or the fountain thereof, human philosophy is blind. so it is ignorant of the means whereby it must be restored, neither knoweth it that the wound is so great and mortal, as that it cannot be cured but only by the hand of God. For which cause he was to give us his own son to be the Surgeon and Physician. The ignorance hereof, is the cause why human Philosophy so greatly magnifieth the nobility and excellency of the soul, as it is well worthy being considered in the first nature, in which it was created. But the sequel of this matter we will hear of thee, ARAM. Of those powers and properties, which the soul of man hath common with the soul of beasts: of those powers and virtues, which are proper and peculiar to itself, according to the Philosophers: of the difference and agreement that is between human philosophy and Christian doctrine touching these things. Chap. 87. ARAM Amongst the heathen, they that were most ancient, and nearest to the true Church of God, and conversed most with his servants, had greater knowledge and better understanding of the nature of God, of Angels, and of men's souls, and of other matters belonging to true religion, than they that were farthest off and succeeded latest after the other. The causes of errors. For the farther off that the doctrine of heavenly things was drawn from the fountain of it, the more hath it been altered and corrupted both by ignorance overwhelming it, and by false understanding of it, as also because every one hath added to and taken away what seemed him best: and that, either to boast themselves that they may seem some body, or to cover their thefts, that none might know from whence that thing was first taken and borrowed, that so they might be thought to be the first members thereof: or lastly, to please and satisfy the curiosity and vanity of the mind of man. No marvel therefore, if there were heathen Philosophers among the ancients, who believed and taught many things agreeable to the word of God, and if there be now some amongst us, who boast of their study in philosophy, and yet have no part of that first innocency and purity, but have their minds filled with strange opinions contrary to all reason and truth. We see well enough by experience what impiety reigneth in this our age. For there are an infinite number to be found of whose religion no man can judge, except it be herein that they think there is none at all, and therefore mock at all religion, what show soever they make to the contrary. But I know not why they should not blush for shame, when they hear from heathen Philosophers so many goodly instructions as they have left us, concerning the nature and immortality of the soul. It is true that the reason of man cannot of itself contemplate the soul in her first & perfect nature, in which it was created: but it doth consider of it as it is at this present, and yet as though it were very sound. Whereupon the Philosophers greatly magnify the nobility and excellency thereof. Therefore when they are to consider of those points upon which they ground the powers and virtues of the soul, for the first they take the vegetative virtue, which it hath common not only with the beasts, Three faculties under the vegetative virtue. but also with the plants: and this comprehendeth three other faculties underneath it, namely the virtue of nourishing, secondly of increasing, & lastly of procreation, as it hath been already declared unto us. This virtue with the rest that are comprehended underneath it, is the basest, most earthy and vilest of them all: beside that it followeth the sensitive virtue, which may be referred aswell to the internal as to the external senses. Two parts of the sensitive virtue So that we may divide it into two parts, and more properly call that the sensitive virtue, which the soul hath in taking knowledge of corporal things, by corporal senses, and by their use in the body. The other part that belongeth to the internal senses may more specially be called, the cogitative virtue. And because these two powers serve to increase knowledge and understanding, they are as it were the fountain thereof, or rather helps and instruments. How the Astronomers refer the powers of the soul to the stars. The Astronomers, who refer all to the virtue of the stars and planets, place the influence of the vegetative power with the parts of it, under the Moon, of which the soul (as they say) receiveth it: the other two parts of the sensitive power, of which I spoke even now, they place under the Sun, as they do the fourth, which is the will and virtue of desiring, under the planet Venus. The fift, which is called the angry faculty, giving heart & courage to a man, and moving him to wrath, under the planet Mars. Then for the sixth, they place the virtue that giveth motion from one place to another. For the seventh, that which the Physicians call the vital virtue, and others the spiritual, because it containeth under it the power of respiration, and both these are attributed to the same, because it is a property of the sensitive power to move and breath. Now all these powers of the soul are common to man with beasts, or at least wise there is no great difference. But these which now follow are proper and peculiar unto him, Powers proper to the ●easonable soul. namely the reasonable power, of which the other that ensue are kinds, of which number the Philosophers or Astronomers place in the first rank the virtue of speech, Of speech. where by the soul expresseth her conceits, Of speech. thoughts & affections. And although all men use north same words to utter their thoughts each to other, by reason of the diversity of languages that is amongst them, notwithstanding as the things which they understand & conceive, and by which they are moved to speak, are all of one substance and nature amongst all nations, so all the conceits and affections of men, which are signified by their language, are alike in their soul and mind, where they are written and engraven. This virtue they attribute to Mercury, as the other that followeth to jupiter, which they call the practic and active virtue, whereby a man that hath his will at liberty, doth by counsel and settled reason, exercise and bring to pass through art, prudence, and wisdom, those things of which he hath sure knowledge. Of the speculative and active virtue. For it is not enough to have the contemplative virtue, unless the active also be joined unto it to declare it by effect. Thus you see where they place free will, which comprehendeth under it, first election, than action, which is the practic that followeth it. And because the practic dependeth of the theoric, which is the speculative and contemplative virtue, and goeth before the active virtue, therefore they join this to that, and so refer it to the planet of Saturn which is melancholic. And this is that virtue of the soul, whereby man hath understanding, knowledge, & wisdom: & it comprehendeth the seats of such things as the mind is able to understand and comprehend, as also those general rules and principles, which it must afterward bring into use and practise. For this cause this speculative virtue must of necessity go before the active, because the practic is not very certain and sure without the theoric. Of the politic virtue. Afterward followeth that which they call the politic virtue, which hath for her subject all moral philosophy. They understand by this virtue of the soul, that whereby a prudent, wise, and well experienced man, moderateth his naughty desires, & pernicious affections through his virtue, & whereby he declareth by practice and settled reason, that virtue & goodness, which is requisite in the public society of men, & that not only in his private behaviour, The kinds of it. but also in his public affairs. The principal virtues contained underneath it, are prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance, which are commonly called cardinal virtues, because they are chief, & contain under every one of them many other virtues, which depend of them, as branches do of their stock. He is accounted a civil good man & a just, that hath this virtue which is divided into sundry kinds, according to the diversity of estates that are in common society. For it is sufficient for a private person to have so much of it, as whereby he may know how to guide himself honestly according to his estate. If he be a father of a family, he hath need of that prudence & skill which is necessary for the government of his house. If he have any public charge concerning civil affairs, it is needful for him to have that art & skill, and those virtues without which he cannot well execute his office, according to that place & degree in which he is set. For if he occupieth the room of a Lawyer or counsellor at the Law, he must have skill and knowledge of the laws. If he be a captain or soldier, he must be skilful in military discipline. If he be a judge & magistrate, it is necessary likewise, that he understand what belongeth to his office. If he be a divine and pastor in the Church, the science of Divinity, which is the knowledge of the holy scriptures, is necessary for him, not only so much as is requisite for his own salvation, but also that he may be able to instruct others, and to direct them in those things that appertain to religion. Of the heroical virtue. Besides, to all these virtues they add the heroical virtue, which is no vulgar & common virtue, but very rare and excellent, & if I may so speak, rather divine then human. In regard whereof they that were endued with this virtue among the Heathen, were placed in a rank & degree by themselves between God and men, and were accounted and taken for demigods. And these are those virtues, which the philosophers by experience find to be in the reasonable soul, which are no feigned or imaginative, but true virtues: neither are they found in the soul of beasts, as those are of which we spoke in the first place. Wherefore albeit man hath the virtue of desiring common with beasts, yet he hath reason to moderate his desires, which is wanting in beasts. Now all this doctrine touching the virtues of the soul, accordeth well with the doctrine of Christianity, so far forth as the soul agreeth with that nature in which it was first created of God. But that which the Astrologians affirm of the influences and infusion of virtues into the soul by the planets, as we heard, I take it to be a bird of their own brain, whereby they attribute to the creatures that which belongeth to the Creator only. Against the astronomical influence of virtues. For although he useth the creatures according to that order, which he hath placed in them, nevertheless when the question is of the reasonable soul, we must ascend up higher than the heavens, unto which it can not be subject as the body is, seeing it is of a far more excellent nature. For how should the heavens, stars, and planets give that to the soul, which themselves have not? I verily believe that when God created the soul of the first man, & placed it in his body that was before created of the nature and substance of the corruptible elements, he took not those virtues, with which he endued and adorned it, either from the heavens or from the planets. And seeing he created all mankind in this first man after his image, which he imprinted in his soul, no doubt but that which yet remaineth in man's soul, proceedeth from the same fountain: as also what evil soever is befallen since, whereby this image abode not perfect, it proceedeth from sin, and from the nature of man corrupted by sin, and not from the heavens or planets. And as the Astrologians easily believe whatsoever they have imagined touching this point, and would have the will of man subject to their influences and constellations: so the other Philosophers abuse themselves greatly, Philosophers esteem too highly of man's nature. in magnifying the virtues of the soul more than they ought to be esteemed in this corrupt estate of man's nature, not judging the corruption to be so great as it is. Hereof it is also that they fail in regard of virtue, which they attribute altogether to the liberty of man, as if he could by his own virtue moderate his affections, & make himself just and righteous. Which fault proceedeth from hence, in that they content themselves with a justice that seemeth so to be before men, and put no difference between divine and human justice: that is, betwixt that which is able to stand & approve itself in the judgement of God, and that which men approve. What justice God approveth. For there is no justice able to satisfy the judgement of God, but that of jesus Christ, which it pleaseth him to impute unto his children, and in regard thereof to account them just. But let us return to our matter. We have further to note, that besides the forenamed virtues, the Platonists attribute to the soul four others, Four contemplative virtues according to the Platonists. which they call contemplative virtues, as those that belong to the contemplative life, unto which they are referred by them. The first is named the purgation or second death of the soul: for the first death of it say they, is her descending into the body of man, into which it is thrown as it were into a prison, & in a manner buried in vices. Therefore they say that the soul standeth in need of this second death, whereby she being purged from her vices is as it were dead unto them, that she may live unto virtue. The second kind of these virtues is called pure or purified, because the soul being purged from all her evil affections, exerciseth good works by the same. The third is called by them an exemplary or patterne-vertue in the mind of God: whereby they mean, that as God conceiveth and knoweth the Ideas, kinds and images of all sensible & intelligible things, so he sendeth down from heaven this virtue into the soul of man, who is thereby purged and purified as we have already heard. And for the last they add a fourth virtue, which they account greatest and chiefest above the other, and therefore they call it Divine, because it bringeth to the soul a virtue to do more than human works, even such as we call miraculous works. Which four kinds of virtues appear evidently to have been drawn by them from christian doctrine, but yet disguised after their fashion. As touching the first, it agreeth to that which the word of God teacheth us of regeneration, How those agree in some sort to four christian virtues. and mortification of the flesh, whereby we die to sin and to the devil, that we may live to righteousness and to God. The second agreeth to good works proceeding of faith, which being done in the same purify the heart, and to christian holiness, which accompanieth and followeth justification by faith. The third agreeth to gifts and graces inspited by the holy Ghost, and to the infusion of them into the souls of Gods true servants: and the fourth agreeth to the gifts of prophecy and to that virtue of working miracles, which hath been heretofore in the holy Prophets, Apostles, and Disciples of jesus Christ. But to conclude this whole point, we are to observe this, that what praise soever may be given to the Platonical Divinity, yet it is in no respect to be compared with Christian Philosophy: because this is pure, and true, and indited by the Spirit of GOD, but the other impure, disguised, and counterfeited by men, who have mingled with their Philosophy, many things which they could either hear or learn out of the holy Scripture. Moreover, as concerning the whole doctrine of the Philosophers touching the nature and virtues of the soul, we may truly say, that of itself it reacheth higher, than those politic virtues of which we made mention even now. For when a civil, good, and wise man hath attained to that politic virtue and to the highest degree thereof, he is able to go no farther, except he be helped elsewhere, even by the illumination of the holy Spirit. And indeed all those other virtues of the soul propounded by the Platonists, are but dreams and opinions in the air, by which the Spirit of error laboureth to disguise the doctrine of the holy Scriptures, which leadeth us to those true supernatural virtues, which the soul receiveth by the inspiration and infusion of the gifts and graces of the holy Spirit, who is the true Doctor, of whom we must learn this Philosophy, which is not natural, but supernatural. Now then being instructed and guided by him, having discoursed of the creation and nature of the soul, let us enter into this goodly field of the immortality thereof, in which we know there are many ranged battles of enemies, who wait to enter into the combat with us. It belongeth therefore to thee, ACHITOB, to begin the skirmish. How men can have no certain resolution of th'immortality of the soul, but by the Word of God: of the perverseness of Epicures and Atheists in this matter: Of the chief causes that hinder men from believing the immortality of the soul, and of their blockishness and evil judgement therein: How we must seek for the Image of God, after which man was created in his soul. Chap. 88 ACHITOB. We are now fallen into a time, which discovereth unto us not only false religions, but even an Atheism, that is far worse. For they that are altogether without Religion are farther dist●●t from true piety, than they that follow a false religion: and yet at this day there are as many or more that declare themselves to be Atheists and Epicures, as there be of such as are taken for good Christians. And if in outward show they pretend some exercise of Religion, it is but to cover themselves with the vail thereof, to the end they might not be esteemed and accounted for such as they are in truth. But in their heart and with their companions they do but make a mock of the holy Scriptures, and of all those testimonies that we have in them of another life besides this, of Heaven of hell, of the blessed immortality and eternal death of the soul. Now it is an easy matter to convince such fellows of error and lies. But this is a thing worthy to be bewailed in all the affairs, opinions and counsels of men, that when any question ariseth of the truth and of that which is Good, no proofs or testimonies, how rich or of how great authority soever they be, seem sufficient to us and worthy to be believed. And yet if the question be of any evil, falsehood and lies, no testimony, how slender and bad soever it be, but satisfieth us very well. Why men incline to lies rather than to the truth. For by reason that we are evil and ignorant, full of blindness and darkness by nature, we are always the readier, to follow that which is like ourselves, namely wickedness and falsehood, lies and error: as we see it by experience in Atheists and Epicures, and in all infidels and scorners of God and of his Word. For there are many skilful in Arts and human learning, and in natural Philosophy, who reprehend and condemn Epicurus, Lucretius, Pliny and other such like Philosophers, Epicures and Atheists, in that which they have taught and written of natural things belonging to this life, and call them ignorant men and void of experience. But in that which they have spoken against the providence of God, the immortality of souls, and all Religion, abolishing them wholly by their false doctrines and by Philosophy, they embrace and praise them, for the skilfullest and most excellent Philosophers that ever were, as having delivered men from the greatest torments that could seize upon them, The devilish infection of Atheism. and brought unto them the greatest good that could befall them, by taking from them all fear of God, of hell, and of all punishment after this life, and all opinion and hope of Paradise and of a better life after this. In a word, they extol them, as if they only had found the bean in the cake, as we use to say, and as if they only deserved to be the Kings of beans among their fellows. Forasmuch then as we are entered into this matter of the immortality of the soul, and seeing at this day so many Atheists herein follow the opinions of these Epicurian Philosophers before named, I say not only more than they do all the best Philosophers, but also then the authority of the holy Scriptures, and the testimony of God in them: we cannot gather too many arguments, whereby at leastwise to cause them to ponder the matter more diligently, if they will not be confounded wholly by natural reasons, seeing they make so small reckoning of that celestial and heavenly doctrine. It is true that it will be a very hard and difficult matter to persuade such in this point, as give no more credit to this testimony of the word of God, than they do to all humane and natural reasons that can be alleged unto them. For although the arguments of those Philosophers that maintain the immortality of the soul, are strong and weighty, yet they can never wholly and fully assure men of their immortality, except this testimony of God take all doubting from them. Reasons to prove the immortality of the soul. But that argument of all others is most forcible, which he hath given unto us in the resurrection of jesus Christ, whereby his soul was united again unto his body, and so wrought those heavenly works which followed his resurrection and ascension into heaven: and namely by the gift of the holy Ghost, which he sent unto his Apostles, and by the effects thereof, which according to the promise of jesus Christ appeared so great and manifest throughout the whole world, and that in so short a time, that no prudence, wisdom, skill, eloquence, authority, power or force of man, was able to hinder that virtue, or the course of the Gospel. But because Epicures and Atheists account these things for fables, and are of so perverse and monstrous a nature, that they had rather sight against nature itself, and clean to the worst opinions most unworthy the nature of man, then to follow the reasons of the best Philosophers grounded upon a more sure foundation, let us at leastwise put them to some further trouble by urging them to be fully resolved in that opinion, which is contrary to the immortality of the soul. For certainly I doubt not but they willbe always without resolution. And in deed from whence should they fetch this resolution of theirs, seeing they have no certain ground of their false opinion, and seeing there are so many and so forcible reasons to the contrary? Why men believe not the immortality of the soul. But we must note, that the principal cause that keepeth men from believing the immortality of the soul is, partly their ignorance, partly their malice, and perverseness. For some there are so blockish, that they measure all things according to the knowledge and reach of their bodily senses: so that they set down with themselves to believe nothing, but that which they are able to know and perceive by them. Others there are who besides this are so wicked and perverse, that they would not only have their souls not to be immortal, but wish also that there were no God, to the end they might have no judge. For by reason they are so wholly addicted to the world, and to their carnal pleasures, they would have no other God, or other life after this: but wish that all life might end with their delights, and the soul with the body, that so they might have no account to make to any judge. Therefore they are of that number, whereof mention is made in the Book of Wisdom, Wisd. 2. 1, 2, etc. who make these discourses, saying, Our life is short and tedious, The sayings of Epicures. and in the death of a man there is no recovery, neither was any known that hath returned from the grave. For we were borne at all adventure, and we shall be hereafter as though we had never been: for the breath is a smoke in the nostrils, and the words as a spark raised out of our hearts. Which being extinguished, the body is turned into ashes, and the spirit vanisheth as the soft air. Our life shall pass away as the trace of a cloud, and come to nought as the mist that is driven away with the beams of the Sun, and cast down with the heat thereof. Our name also shall be forgotten in time, and no man shall have our works in remembrance. For our time is as a shadow that passeth away, and after our end there is no returning: for it is fast sealed so that no man cometh again. Come therefore, & let us enjoy the pleasures that are present, and let us cheerfully use the creatures as in youth. Let us fill ourselves with costly wine & ointments, and let not the flower of life pass by us. I omit other speeches of a voluptuous, wicked, & unjust life, which they purpose to lead, exercising all injustice, violence, & cruelty, without all regard had to any right or justice, either to poor or rich, young or old, but chief against the servants of God, who approve not their kind of life, but reprove & condemn it. Verse. 21, etc. Therefore it is said after all the discourse, that they imagined such things and went astray. For their own wickedness blinded them. They do not understand the mysteries of God, neither hope for the reward of righteousness, nor can discern the honour of the souls that are faultless. For God created man without corruption, and made him after the image of his own likeness. Nevertheless, through envy of the devil came death into the world: Wisd. 3. 1. and they that hold of his side, prove it, But the souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and no torment shall touch them. In the sight of the unwise they appeared to die, and their end was thought grievous, and their departing from us, destruction: but they are in peace. We see then that these men go no farther than they can see with their bodily senses: The corrupt opinion of Atheists and Epicures. and because they see that man liveth by breathing and cannot live without, and that he dieth when his breath faileth, they think that the soul of man is but a little wind and breath, and so is scattered and vanisheth away as it were wind and breath, or as a cloud in the air. The same judgement they are of in regard of the blood, because life leaveth the body with the blood, as if it had no other soul but the blood, or breath. And forasmuch as the eye discerneth no difference between men and beasts in death, they judge also that there is no difference between their souls. But if they be resolved to give credit to nothing but to their corporal senses, and in death consider only what difference there is between men and beasts, they will not believe that either beasts or men have any soul at all that giveth them life, because they see nothing but the body only. And then by the like reason we must conclude, that not only the whole man is no other thing but this body which we see, but also that there is nothing in all the world, but that which may be seen by the eyes and perceived by the other senses, and so all that which we have not seen and known by them shallbe nothing. Atheists may well be compared to beasts. Which being so, men shall differ nothing from beasts, as indeed we can say no better of these men. For beasts think of nothing but that which they behold and perceive by their senses, and go no further: which is so far from all science and discipline, and from all judgement of man, as nothing can be more. Therefore they that believe nothing but their corporal senses, deserve to be compared not only to little children, or to fools, who when they see pictures, or their face in a glass, suppose they are living men, because they go no farther than they see, but even to the brute beasts, who have less sense and understanding then children. It is wonderful to consider how men take such great pleasure & pains to become brutish. For if they do but see a smoke come out of a place, they will judge that there is some fire within, although they behold it not: and if they smell any ill savour, their nose will tell them that there is some place infected, or some carrion lying not far off, albeit they see it not. What is the cause then, that when by their senses they perceive somewhat more in men then in beasts, Reasons to show the soul of men to differ from that of beasts. they are not induced thereby to think, that of necessity there must be some what within them, which causeth them to differ much from beasts? Which is not by reason of the body, but of the soul, that is not seen but only by her actions, works and effects. Whereupon it followeth, that if their actions differ from the actions of that soul whereby beasts live, the cause also from which they proceed, must needs differ: and so consequently, that there is great difference betwixt the soul of men and the soul of beasts. For let them consider only the diversity of arts, which man exerciseth with his hands, and the variety of so many witty and wonderful works as are wrought by him, which cannot proceed but from a great spirit, and from a passing excellent nature, the like whereof is not to be seen in beasts, or in any thing they can do. Besides, do they not see how the spirit of man discourseth throughout all nature? what reason is in him, and how his speech followeth reason? which are such things as have a certain virtue, and the image of a divine spirit shining in them. Wherefore, albeit we should make man wholly like to a beast, by reason of his body, both in regard of his birth and death, yet we must needs confess, that he is of a far more excellent nature in respect of that great and manifest difference, which we see is in his soul. If then the soul of man be mortal as well as that of beasts, to what purpose serve those graces which it hath above the other? and from what fountain shall we say they flow in it, and to what end were they given unto it? But for this time I will leave these Atheists, hoping that to morrow we will not leave any one natural reason able to urge them in their demnable opinion, which shall not be laid out at large. And I demand of them that have any taste of the holy Scriptures, and yet seem to doubt of the immortality of the soul, or at leastwise are not fully resolved therein, how man is said to be created after the image of God, if he shall be altogether dissolved and brought to nothing? and where shall we then seek for this image in him? It is certain, that this is not in the body, seeing that God is a spiritual nature and substance, and not corporal. Then it followeth, The image of God is to be sought in the soul. that this image is to be sought for in the soul, and not in the body. And if it be in the soul, we must necessarily conclude, that it differeth very much from the soul of beasts. For indeed if they were both one, why should it rather be written of man then of beasts, that he was created after the image of God? And if man be the image of God, especially in regard of the soul, it must needs be then of a divine and immortal nature: otherwise there would be no good agreement between the image and the thing of which it is an image. Therefore a corporal thing cannot be the true image of a spiritual thing, if there be no resemblance or agreement of nature betwixt them. For although a corporal image should be of another matter then the thing is of, which it doth represent, nevertheless, there is always some resemblance when both the one and the other is of a corporal matter, and when the image hath some agreement in form with the thing represented. Now if any be desirous to seek for the image of God in a corporal thing, we shall find as many of them as there are creatures in the whole world. And yet it is not said of any creature, no not of the sun itself, nor of the moon or stars, t●at have no soul, nor yet of the living creatures themselves, which are endued with soul and life, that God said in their creation, Let us make them after our image and likeness, neither that he created them after his image, as it is written of man. If then there be no immortality of the soul of man, where shall we find the image of the immortality of God who is immortal? And if there be no immortality in man, but that his soul is, either the temperament of his body, or his vital spirit, as in beasts, God shall have no image that shall more nearly resemble him in man then in beasts: neither shall he have any spiritual image agreeable to his nature, in any creature under heaven. Now if any reply and say, that this image is to be fought for, not in the immortality of the soul, but only in reason and in the other virtues, where with it is adorned above the soul of beasts, I say, that these things are in such sort linked together, that they cannot be separated. An answer to an objection. Wherefore he that taketh away the one, taketh away the other: because the soul of man should not have that which it hath more than the soul of beasts hath, if it were not of another nature than theirs is. And we know well, that whatsoever it hath more, is not like to any creature under the heavens: and that it cannot agree but to God, or to natures that have some participation with the divine nature, which cannot be mortal, but immortal. So that when we see so many signs and tokens, which testify unto us, that man hath a celestial and divine birth, it followeth that he hath in himself some greater thing, that is more noble and excellent, then can be seen, or touched with hands. It is true, that they who stay only in the corporal senses, as we have said, shall never pierce to the contemplation of these things: but they delight rather, for their confirmation in that beastly opinion, to hear the common bye-worde used amongst the vulgar sort, that no man knoweth what becometh of the souls of men after the death of their bodies, nor into what country they go: because no body as yet ever brought any news from thence, and therefore no marvel if no man either do or can know what is done there. Which speeches albeit they be very frivolous, yet are they heard many times from them that think themselves to be none of the meanest. Therefore it will not be peradventure without profit, if we answer them more at large to morrow, going forward with our reasons & arguments of the soul's immortality against the Atheists: of which matter, ASER, thou shalt begin to speak. The end of the eleventh days work. THE TWELFTH days work. Of those who desire the return of Souls departed, to testify their immortality: what witness have been sent us of God out of another world to resolve us therein. Chap. 89. ASER, We said yesterday, that they who stay only in their corporal senses, as brute beasts do, propound commonly against the immortality of souls, that which is usually spoken of the common people, namely, that it is not known what becomes of men's souls after the death of the body, or to what country they go, because none ever returned from thence to bring any news. A reason of Atheists confuted by a similitude. Wherefore (say they) no body can tell what is done there, neither can any thing be known. Now before we make answer to so frivolous and false an argument, I would gladly demand of them, whether there were nothing at all of those newfound islands, (which were lately found in our time) before they were discovered by them who not only were never there, but did not so much as once hear of them before. For no body went thither from hence, neither did any come hither from thence: so that there was no more intelligence between them and us, then between the living and the dead, or between them that are altogether of another world: therefore also their country is called the New world. Now then shall it be thought, that this people were not at all, because they were not known of us, not their manners and kind of life? And yet now the time showeth evidently, that notwithstanding any distance of place that hath been between them and us, there were means sufficient to communicate and traffic together, and those more easy than any is between the souls already departed out of their bodies, and us who yet remain in the world with our bodies. For concerning the distance and difficulty of the places, who doubteth but that it is far greater between heaven and earth, Paradise and Hell? Therefore also Abraham speaking of the place and estate of the elect and reprobate in another life, Luke 16. 26. saith to the rich man, There is a great gulf set between you and us, so that they which would go from hence to you, cannot: neither can they come from thence to us. And this we may say in like manner of ourselves, and of those that are already departed into another life, in regard of their return unto the living. For it is ordained, that they shall not return again into the world, as also that they shall departed hence but once. And they that go from hence, do it not with soul and body joined together: for it is not a voyage like to those which we make in this world, when we go from one country to another. Now as the Lord hath determined how long the souls shall abide in their bodies in this life, so he hath ordained and set the time in which they ought to departed and the place where they are to be received, according to the estate of every one, even until they return into their bodies at the resurrection. If they be souls of the reprobate, they are detained in Hell in eternal fire, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth: if they be the souls of Gods elect, they shine as the sun in the kingdom of heaven, in a life accompanied with perpetual joy and happiness. But we must urge them better that require testimony for the immortality of souls by their return into this world, or of some that have come from another world. For it is an easy matter for us to bring them as credible witnesses as any can be, to tell them most certain news, if they will believe them, according as they deserve it. And for the first, have we not jesus Christ, who first came down from heaven and became man, to bring us news, and to declare the same unto us in his own person, not only before his death, but also after his resurrection? Besides, how many other witnesses have we, that have testified most certainly of the same? mark 16. 14. Math. 28. 9 luke 24. 36. iohn 20. 19, 20▪ act. 1. 2, 3, 10. 1. Cor. 15 6. who saw with their eyes and touched with their hands, even to the number of more than five hundred, according as Saint Paul testifieth? Moreover, they that were raised as well by him as by Elias and Elizeus, and by the Apostles and disciples, may they not serve us also for good withnesse to assure us, not only that souls are immortal, but also that their bodies shall rise again, and that God is of sufficient virtue & power to do it as he hath promised? I omit here the testimony which the Angels have given both of the resurrection and ascension of jesus Christ: besides that of the holy spirit, which is the chiefest of all, with signs and gifts wherewith he came accompanied, and those works and effects that followed them. Wherefore seeing we have for this point the word of God that is most certain & clear, which teacheth us what we ought to believe and hold, let us rest ourselves in the testimony thereof, and not desire to make further inquiry. Exod. 3. 6. mat. 22. 32, 33. mar. 12. 26. luk. 20. 37, 38. For it is he that said to Moses, I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of jacob. Whereupon jesus Christ concludeth, that Abraham, Isaac and jacob do live yet after their death, seeing God is the God of the living and not of the dead, that is to say, of them that are yet in being, and not of them that are nothing at all. For otherwise, if all men should so perish by death, that nothing of them should remain in life, at leastwise in regard of the soul, then should he be the God of nothing. And although it seemeth that jesus Christ alleged this place against the Sadduces, not only to prove against them by the doctrine of Moses, the immortality of souls, but also the resurrection of bodies, we may well gather, that if it be fit to prove that bodies arise, it is much more strong to assure us of the immortality of souls. For when the Lord spoke these words, Abraham, Isaac and jacob were not alive in regard of their bodies, but only of their souls. And yet jesus Christ alleged it to confirm also thereby the resurrection of the dead, although at the first sight it may seem not to be very fit & firm to prove that so much as the immortality of souls. But if it be narrowly looked into, The resurrection of the dead proved. his argument shallbe found to be very well deduced & grounded upon invincible reason. For jesus Christ had respect to the promise which God made to those holy patriarchs of whom he spoke, & which was not made only to their soul, but to the whole man together compounded of body & soul. Wherefore all they to whom it was made, & to whom it appertaineth, should not have the whole effect of it, nor the full fruition of that which it containeth, if they were not whole inheritors thereof both in body & soul. For if it were otherwise, the promise should be accomplished but in one part of man, & not in the whole man. Whereupon it followeth, that seeing the promise is not of a temporal benefit, but of an eternal, therefore the whole man that must enjoy the same, must of necessity live an everlasting life being of the same nature that the benefit is of, which he must inherit. Wherefore seeing the course of man's life is broken off by death in regard of the body, the body must necessarily rise again to live again with his soul in a better & longer life, to the end that the whole man may possess that inheritance, which is promised him of God: or else the promise made by God to his servants is altogether vain, or the testimony which the holy scripture beareth is wholly false, & so also the scripture that propoundeth the same unto us. But none may once think either of these two last points, without great horror of blasphemy contained in them. So that the first point concludeth very strongly, according to that ground which it hath most certain in the word of God. Whereunto may be added further, that seeing the soul of man is created, not to live always without a body, as the Angels do, nor yet to wander from body to body, but to be knit and joined to that body, which is assigned to it of God, it must needs be, that being part thereof, as of her lodging, she should once again return thither. Besides, seeing the body hath served the soul, either in obeying God, 2. Thess. 1. 6, 7. or in disobeying of his will, the nature of Gods iusticerequireth, that it should be rewarded also with the soul, according to the quality of those works whereof it hath been an instrument. Therefore according to that which we have discoursed of this matter, the resurrection of the body doth so depend of th'immortality of souls, that it followeth necessarily upon this: so that if we have assurance of the one, we ought to have it of the other, seeing both of them are certainly grounded upon the justice of God, which cannot be just unless he judge men both in body & soul according to his word, & according as every one liveth. But seeing the matter of th'immortality of souls, & that of the resurrection of bodies are sundry questions, and that we are to handle but one of them, we must return to our first point of the soul touching th'immortality thereof, which is easily believed of all that approve of the doctrine of holy Scriptures, & that give credit to the word of God. For they are thoroughly resolved thereof. Yea we may know by the writings of all antiquity, that the common opinion of all people & nations of what religion soever they have been, hath been this, that men's souls were immortal. Wherefore in regard of this point, we are to fight only against Epicures & Atheists. And because they will not believe the word of God, but deride it as tales made upon pleasure: I am of opinion that now we are to search chief for those testimonies, which God hath given us in nature touching th'immortality of the soul: even the actions and effects thereof, by means of which we come to the knowledge of hidden and secret causes, from whence they proceed. Therefore consider Amana, what you mind to speak unto us of this subject. Of natural reasons, whereby the immortality of souls may be proved against Epicures and Atheists: and first of the argument taken from the faculty of knowledge which the soul hath, and from that knowledge of eternity which is in it: how it appeareth, that it is not begotten of this corruptible nature, because it ascendeth up unto God: and how by a special benefit of God, it is daily created, & not by the virtue of nature. Cham 90. AMANA. Seeing Epicures & Atheists give credit to natural Philosophy in things whose causes it proveth by their effects, they have no reason to refuse it in the consideration of the nature of men's souls. Now it is very certain, that if we will take this course, besides the testimonies of God in his word touching the immortality of the soul, which way soever we turn our eyes, whether above us or beneath us, on the right hand, or on the left, we shall find every where arguments and reasons concluding the same. For we have nature, and the necessity of causes, proportion and similitude, life, the excellent dignity of man, the goodness of God, and the profit of mankind proceeding from his bountifulness, which with one common consent, and as it were, all with one voice teach us, and cry out that the soul cannot be mortal. First then we observe, How we know the hidden things in nature. that the true & natural essences of all things are not known of us by themselves, but continue hid in the secret closerts of every one of them, unto which our mind being burdened with this mass of the body, and overwhelmed with the darkness of this life, is not able to reach. Therefore we must inquire by the accidents adhering unto them, and principally by their actions, whereby our reason discourseth, and concludeth of every thing, what it is, and of what quality. For every thing hath his actions, and works, according to it own substance and nature, and by them declareth and maketh itself known: so that if we consider the actions of the soul, we shall by them know the nature and immortality thereof. An argument taken from the knowledge of the soul to prove it immortal. Let us then consider her first and principal action, which is to know, and this importeth also to understand, to comprehend, and to conceive. Whereupon we have to note, that there is no power of Knowing, that can attain to the knowledge of any thing, but it hath some agreement and proportion with the nature of the same thing: because knowledge is as it were the image of things, which is imprinted in the soul as in a glass. Now it is certain, that a looking glass cannot represent the image and similitude of a spiritual thing, because itself is a corporal thing, which hath no agreement in nature with that which is spiritual. Likewise it cannot represent any thing belonging to the other senses, but only that which concerneth the sight: and therefore it cannot represent either sounds, smells, or tastes, because the use thereof is only for the eyes, neither doth it agree with any of the other senses, but only with the sight. And as for our external senses, they cannot perceive those things that have neither quantity nor bodily substance, because they themselves are corporal. Neither yet can they perceive things that are absent. And the internal senses, as the fantasy & the imagination, cannot perceive spiritual things, as namely, either God or Angels: but only the spirit of a man doth perceive, know and comprehend them, which power and faculty no other creature under heaven hath. For if it were otherwise, it could not in any wise comprehend a thing, that surmounteth it with an infinite greatness, and with which it hath no agreement at all. For further confirmation of that which I say, Eternity considered diversely. let us consider of Eternity, as it is whole and entire in itself: then let us divide it into that which was since the creation of the world, and finally into that which followed the same, and which shall be for evermore. When our spirit entereth into the consideration of that which was before the creation, our thought is not able to comprehend it, so that it is overwhelmed with the greatness thereof: but we do well understand and comprehend that part of eternity, which shall follow us hereafter throughout infinite ages. Whereby it appeareth, that this first consideration of it, is too great for our soul, as having no proportion therewith, nor yet agreeing thereunto: but it is otherwise with the soul in the consideration of that other eternity, for the fruition whereof it was created. For the soul is not eternal as God is, as though it had no more beginning than he had: and therefore it hath no agreement with him in this respect. The soul than entereth into a bottomless gulf, when it discourseth of an eternity, of which it is not partaker: but it hath agreement with the eternity of God as angels have, in that it is created immortal, to live an eternal life with him: which appeareth in that it is able to comprehend the same. Therefore Saint john in the beginning of his Gospel leadeth us even to the gates of this first eternity: but forasmuch as it is a gulf in which we shall be swallowed up, if we enter farther into it, he proceedeth not forward, but stayeth us there: and calleth us presently unto the means whereby. God manifested himself, telling us how he did this by his eternal word: and first by the creation of the world, then by those other means, which he setteth down afterward: all which our soul comprehendeth well, and so cannot the soul of beasts do. Wherefore when we consider God in his essence and nature before the creation of the world, & the time that was before that, we are then overwhelmed therewithal, & see no whit at all into it. But if we enter into the consideration of the times after the creation of the world, & into those which shall follow still after us unto all eternity, we look into it more clearly, and are not so much dazzled therewithal, because our soul is more capable of this consideration, then of the other, which was before all creatures. A special difference between the soul of man and 〈◊〉 beasts. From hence we may conclude, that the souls of beasts and plants that have not in them this cogitation or apprehension of eternity, are produced and taken out of the power and virtue of that matter, of which they are engendered: but the spirit of man is more specially bred in the body by God, above all the powers of the matter and nature of the same. A firm proof of the soul's immortality. For nothing ariseth higher, or passeth beyond that thing of which it receiveth essence, and being, and those powers and strength that it hath: for if it did, then should it not receive being from thence, but of some other thing before and above that, or else farther off, unto which it tendeth. We see this in all the senses both external and internal, which are common to us with beasts. For they know nothing else, beside that which is of this nature which we see, neither do they ascend higher: but our spirit not content with the sight and knowledge of the heavens, stars and Angels themselves mounteth up to God, and being come thither can go no further. What other thing else doth this signify, and declare unto us, but that the souls of beasts are engendered of this corruptible and mortal nature, beyond which they cannot lift up themselves, but that ours are produced of God above the power of this nature? A fit comparison. And so that may be said of our soul, which is spoken of a spring water, namely, that it ascendeth as much upward as it descendeth downward, but can go no higher. For when a man would carry the water of a spring any whither, and would have it mount upward, it will be an easy matter to bring it as high as the springhead from whence it floweth: but no higher, except it be forced by some other mean then by it own course and natural virtue. Notwithstanding it will easily descend lower. And so fareth it with our spirit. For as it came from God, so it is able to mount again to the knowledge of him, and no higher: but it descendeth a great deal lower. And as for our senses, they remain lower than the works of nature, and pierce not to the depth of them, but are always busied about the external face of them. Neither is it to be doubted, but that Moses meant to teach us these things by that which he rehearseth of the means used by God in the creation of man, which differed from that he kept in the creation of all other creatures, either living or without life. For we have heard what deliberation and counsel he used, before he put hand to the work: Gen. 1. 26. how he fashioned the body, and how he placed the soul therein by and by after. Therefore in that the Prophet describeth the creation of the body apart, and then that of the soul, he giveth us to understand, that we must seek for something more high and excellent in that of man then in that of beasts, whose souls were created with their bodies, and of the selfsame matter with them. Moreover, he teacheth us this very plainly when he saith, that God created man after his own image and similitude: which he did not say of beasts, as we have already heard. Therefore there must needs be in the soul of man some other power and virtue, then that by which it giveth life to the body, and which is common to it with those of brute beasts. So that as God gave to this dead body taken out of the earth, a soul that endued it with life, motion, and sense: so he imprinted and engraved his image into this soul, unto which immortality is annexed. Why man was said to be a living soul. Therefore when Moses sayeth, that man was made a living soul, no doubt but by the name of soul he meaneth another nature and substance then that of the body. And in that he calleth it living, he declareth plainly, that the body hath not of itself and of it own nature, that life wherewith it is endued, but from the power of this soul. And although he there maketh not any special mention of the other virtues thereof, it is because he considered the capacity of the people with whom he lived, unto whom he would frame himself, being content to speak openly of that power of the soul, which appeared best without, and which the external senses might most easily know & perceive by the effects thereof. But I think it will not be unfit for this matter, if we return to that question, which before we touched concerning the creation of the soul, namely, whether, since it was created by God in the first creation of man, it be still created after the same sort as it were by a new miracle, in them that are daily borne in the world, or whether it be naturally created, but yet of God by a certain order appointed for that end by him. Now albeit it be very requisite, that we should be sober and not rash in this matter, for the causes already set down, notwithstanding we will here propound the opinion of some learned men, grounded upon that order, How God daily createth souls. which God hath accustomed to observe in his works and in his creatures. For seeing he hath set a law in nature for all other creatures according to which he createth & produceth them, & not by any new miracle, it is more likely that he createth souls naturally, and that he hath ordained a steadfast law for mankind, but differing from that of beasts, so much as his creation differed from theirs. For having once established an order, he useth not to change it into a divers or contrary order, but keepeth still the same, except it be that sometimes he useth extraordinary means by way of a miracle. For although all his works be great miracles, and chiefly man; nevertheless, What a miracle is. we call none by that name, but only those which he worketh by supernatural means, not against, but beside the common order of nature. But that which I say, derogateth nothing from the nature & immortality of man's soul. For although it be placed in that matter which is already prepared and appropriated for the fashioning of the body, yet he doth this above the virtue of the matter and of the work of nature, by a law which he hath established to that effect. For this cause he doth not only give a soul to them that are begotten by lawful marriage, but to those also who are brought forth in whoredom, whether it be adultery, incest, or any other such like. For although that honesty, which is enjoined mankind by God, be not kept in such a birth and generation, but cotrarieth the same, yet it is not contrary to the law of generation ordained by God: as that generation is which is by buggery, Buggery violateth the law of nature. wherein not only the Law of honesty is violated, but also the law of nature. We will conclude then, that it is not only true, that our soul is not brought forth by the power of nature, but by the benefit of God only, but also that it is expedient and very behoveful, yea necessary for mankind that it should be true: and because it is behoveful and necessary, it is true also without all question. For God hath omitted nothing that is agreeable to his glory, and profitable and expedient for mankind. For seeing the soul is placed within the body, not by the virtue of nature, but properly and peculiarly by a special benefit of God, man oweth the chiefest and best part of himself, not to nature, but to God. Which is the cause why he should acknowledge him as the only father of his spirit, God is the only father of our spirit. & consecrate the same wholly to him alone: not yielding any right and interest therein to any other besides him only, who is sovereign, almighty, and the only father of spirits. For if the question be of the body and of all the senses thereof, many may claim an interest therein under God, namely Fathers & mothers, the children themselves, nature, the kindred, the country, friends, kings, Princes & Lords. But the soul belongeth to none but to God alone, which he willeth & commandeth should be reserved to him only for our happiness, because he only is the author and creator thereof. If it be so then, that our soul is not begotten or produced by this nature, which is the handmaid of God and worker under him, but by God alone, it followeth very well, that nothing in nature can extinguish it, but God only who is able to do it if he please. Now it is not likely or credible that God would make a thing by itself, and that after a different manner from other things, which should have nothing besides the creation of it, & then within a while after would destroy it. For if it were otherwise, why would he observe another mean in the creation of man, then in that of beasts? Why would he not rather have bestowed upon nature, the power of the generation and corruption of man's soul, as he hath done that of other living creatures? Wherefore would he seem to reserve that thing as proper to himself, which he would make subject to the law and common condition of other things? Thus much then for those arguments, which we may take from the knowledge that God hath given to man's soul, & from his constant work in the creation of it, to prove the nature and immortality thereof. Now we are to consider what arguments we have to the same purpose, in that virtue of desire, which is given unto it. These things than we may learn of thee Aram. Of the argument for the immortality of the soul, that may be taken from that natural desire thereof, and of perpetuity, which is in it: of another argument to the same purpose: of the desire which men have to continue their name and memory for ever: an argument to the same end taken from the apprehension and terror which men may have both of the death of the body, and also of the soul and spirit. Chap. 91. ARAM. Three things unseparable. These three things are so linked and knit together, namely God's religion, his divine providence, and the immortality of the soul, that they neither may nor aught to be separated in any wise. For if our souls were not immortal, no reward or punishment for good or bad doings were to be looked for: and then God should not seem to have any care over us, which if he have not, why should we worship him? Our hope should be in vain, and religion unprofitable. But if without the grace and goodness of God we cannot live, and if he willbe sought unto of us by prayer, than religion is very necessary, and the immortality of the soul certain. And even as a man cannot renounce those excellent gifts, which naturally are planted in his spirit and mind, and in that reason which God hath bestowed upon him, but he must renounce himself, and become like to the bruit beast: so fareth it also with him, when he renounceth his immortality. But seeing we are now in handling the powers of the soul, to show that it dieth not, and seeing we have spoken of knowledge, we will consider what arguments to the same end may be taken from the virtue of desiring that is naturally in it. Heretofore we learned, that all knowledge both in man and beast, is given to this end, that they should desire whatsoever they know to be good, and eschew that which they know to be evil. Concerning the knowledge of our senses, they conceive well enough what it is to be present, and so do the senses of beasts, of which and of our whole nature, we may judge both by our external and internal senses that are common to us with them, & so we may discern of all such like things. But the appetite or desire of beasts goeth no further than the time present. For that natural desire of their own preservation which is in them, proceedeth not from any knowledge which they have of things, but from the workmanship of nature, and from that natural inclination which they have thereunto, without any motion of reason or understanding. Whereupon it followeth, that their desire to preserve themselves, and their power of procreation proceedeth not from their knowing virtue, that is the chiefest in them, but from the vegetative virtue, which is the basest & most abject. But man goeth a great deal further. For man hath knowledge of perpetuity and of eternity, as we heard in the former speech: and because he knoweth that eternity is a good and profitable thing for him, The desire of perpetuity, an argument of the soul's immortality. he doth also desire the same. This desire than is natural: and if natural, it followeth also that it is a very meet and convenient thing for us, and so consequently, that it is not given to man without cause and to no purpose. We must then conclude hereupon, that it may be accomplished, and that of necessity it must be sometime or other. For if it were otherwise, to what purpose should this knowledge serve which man hath of so great a benefit, and which also moveth him to desire the same, if he could never attain to the fruition thereof? And why should God teach the same to men, if he would not make them partakers of it? Were it not rather to debase, then to advance them above beasts, whereas he hath created them Lords, and as it were his last and principal piece of work, in his work of creation? Should it not seem to be not only a vain thing, but also (if I might so speak) as though God delighted to torment men, to cause them to desire that thing, of which they should never have any participation? Were it not better for them, at leastwise as good, that in this respect he should have created them like to bruit beasts? For so they should live a great deal more quiet, and not torment themselves as they do, after a thing, which is altogether unpossible for them to attain unto. Now we have a very evident sign and testimony in us, Another desire, which is to continue our memory for ever. of the continual being of this desire of enternitie, in that longing which men have to make their name eternal as much as may be, and that their memory might remain in all ages that shall follow long time after them. And which is more, this affection is so natural, and imprinted so deep into men's hearts, that even they who deny the immortality of souls, and who think that every man doth wholly vanish away by corporal death, do covet notwithstanding the immortality of their name, and to have a good report amongst men still after their death. Hereof we have very good proof in the last will and Testament of Epicurus himself, the Captain and standard-bearer of all Atheists and Epicures, who have received their name of him. For he appointed therein, that the day of his nativity should be yearly celebrated, and that at certain times assigned by him, a banquet should be made for those of his sect, in remembrance of his name. Whereby we see that this dog himself, who made no difference between the death of men and of beasts, and who denied utterly the immortality of the soul of man, could not for all that pluck out of his own soul the desire of immortality: but doth what lay in him to make himself immortal after his death, by the perpetuity of his name and memory. Another desire of perpetuity, appearing in funerals. We may take the like argument from that which men usually appoint at their death, touching their funerals, sepulchers and tombs. For why is it, that they will have sumptuous funerals, and stately and magnificent tombs? Why have many caused Churches and chapels to be erected, themselves to be engraven, and their escutcheons to be hung up, where they have laid themselves? It is certain, that if they desired not to make their name as immortal as they could, and their memory eternal among men, their death would not be so ambitious, neither would they leave behind them such marks of their ambition, and of their desire of immortality. And as great men afford this testimony of their desire, so the common people are not without some one or other for their part. For a poor Artificer, as a Tailor or Shoemaker, or some such like, if he be able he will appoint to have a stone laid upon his grave, in which his name shall be engraven, and his mark, or some such like thing: to this end that the survivors, and they that come after him, should know that he once lived and was in the world, and that he would still live, at leastwise in name and memory. And this is further confirmed by them, who albeit they cannot continue their name and memory by any good deeds and valiant acts, yet they strive to make themselves immortal by wicked and execrable doings. As among others we have the example of Herostratus, who set on fire the Temple of that great Diana of Ephesus for no other cause, but only that he might be spoken of, and that the memory of him might remain and continue for ever amongst men: as in deed it hath done, notwithstanding the contrary endeavour of the Ephesians, who by a public Edict ordained, that his name should never be written in any place. An objection. But it may be objected unto me, that this argument derived from the desire of men to continue their name, to prove the immortality of souls thereby, is not very fit, nor of great force: because this desire is rather found in men that are most foolish, vain, carnal, and wicked, then in the wiser sort of men, and such as are more grave, spiritual, and virtuous. For who covet more this immortality of name and memory, than they that are most vainglorious and ambitious, unto whose ambition death itself can bring no end, but it reviveth and liveth still therein? We see also, that they who least of all believe the immortality of souls and scoff most at it, are greatliest affected with this ambition, and labour most to become immortal after that manner, The answer to it. because they expect no other immortality. All this I confess is true, yet mine argument continueth still firm. For first we have always this testimony from them, that they know and acknowledge a certain immortality and perpetuity, and desire to enjoy the same as much as they may, thinking to continue the same even after their death: which knowledge and desire is not to be found in brute beasts. And whereas the vainest and worst men are more moved with this foolish desire, than the wisest & most virtuous men are, the reason thereof is good and evident. For the wisest men and such as are endued with most virtue make least account of this temporary and fading immortality, which is but as it were a wind that goeth from mouth to mouth, or is but in paper, parchment, wood, stone, brass, or in some such corruptible matter: because they expect a better perpetuity that is more certain, more glorious, and of longer continuance, of which they are certainly persuaded. Of the true immortality. Which persuasion can not be vain in them, seeing it is grounded upon the testimony of God's Spirit, which saith, that the just shallbe had in everlasting remembrance, not only before men, but also before God and Angels. But the other sort of men busy themselves about an immortality, which deserveth not to be accounted so much as a shadow and image of true immortality: because the desire thereof is infected and corrupted with that darkness of error and of ignorance, which sin hath brought upon the mind of man, with those perverse affections that proceed from the same, and with their evil educcation and instruction, who are not taught in the word of God. By means whereof this natural desire of true immortality degenerateth into a foolish desire greedy of fame & name among men: (even as when good seed falleth into bad ground) but still it proceeds from a good beginning & fountain, if it were not corrupted. As we see also that it falleth out with the greater part of men in that natural desire they have of skill & knowledge, which albeit it be in them by nature, yet they turn it into a vain and foolish curiosity, that endeavoureth to know that which is not only not profitable, but very hurtful and dangerous for them, in stead of seeking to know that which is more profitable and necessary. But besides that which we have already spoken, our affections also tell us plainly, what the nature is as well of our spirit, as of our senses both internal and external: and what difference there is between them. For if the Spirit entereth into a cogitation of it own death, the internal senses, with fancy and imagination are not greatly moved or troubled therewith, but pass it over well enough, as if they had no feeling thereof, supposing that this corporal life will last a long time: An argument taken from the apprehension of death to prove the immortality of souls. but the spirit is so confounded and troubled, that it feareth and flieth nothing more than it. And surely I doubt not, but that they who being pressed and oppressed with great evils, desire death through a blind fury of their mind, and wish to be wholly extinguished, would change their purpose and abhor that kind of death, and think it to be a greater mischief than all those which they suffer, if they might have leisure and means for some small time to come out of their despair, and to return to their right mind, that so they might have some rest from the troubles of their spirit, and think seriously upon the death thereof. And as all the senses are presently troubled, and as it were carried out of themselves through the cogitation of corporal death: so the spirit contrariwise, if it be found, quiet, and well settled, abideth firm, and derideth the ignorance, error, and terror of the senses, correcting and reproving them for the same. We may then conclude from the evidence of these things, that the death of the Spirit is contrary to the nature of it, and therefore is afraid of it, and abhorreth even to think of it, or to make any mention thereof. But the senses care not but for this bodily life, which the Spirit contemneth in regard of the other: whereby it appeareth, that the death of the body doth affect & touch it nothing at all, but the body only, and those things that are joined unto it, as namely both the external and internal senses. For this cause, those men that are carnal and led most by their senses, think little either upon the one or the other, except it be when they see themselves in danger of corporal death. For, persuading themselves that they shall live long in this world, or at leastwise gathering to themselves as much hope thereof as they can, they think nothing at all in a manner of death during the whole life, no more almost then if they were borne immortal, until such time as they see in good earnest that they must dislodge. Then are they awaked out of their sleep, and if they be not altogether become brutish, they are constrained to think both upon the death of the body, Of the end of good and evil men. and the death of the spirit: and the less they are prepared against them both, the more astonished and amazed they are in themselves. Contrariwise good and just men, who of a long time, yea all their life have thought upon both, find themselves less troubled a great deal, because they are resolutely persuaded and assured of a better life. Moreover, we find by experience, that when the spirit is troubled with affections, or confounded through fancies and imaginations, or ignorant, vicious, profane, wicked, without fear of God and void of religion, it is a great deal more moved at the cogitation and remembrance of corporal death, then if it be sound, well disposed and settled, quiet, skilful, innocent, religious, and fearing God. Whereupon we may consider & learn, which of these two judgements is more certain and true, either that of a spirit that is troubled, diseased, ignorant, evil, without fear of God, and void of religion: or that of a spirit, which hath all those perfections rehearsed by us, contrary to these vices. It is an easy matter to judge. Therefore if we attribute more, as in reason we ought, to that Spirit whose judgement is most true and certain, the conclusion that I have made, shallbe confirmed thereby. And as by the difference of desires, we may easily judge of the nature & essence of man's soul, so we may do the like by those delights wherein it taketh pleasure. But I leave thee, ACHITOB, to go forward with the discourse of this matter. Of the argument that may be taken from the delights and pleasures of the soul to prove the immortality thereof: an argument to the same end taken from the insatiable desires and pleasures of men, even from such as are most carnal: of the testimony which they may find even in their vices to prove the immortality of their soul. Chap. 92. ACHITOB. It hath been a saying heretofore, that it belonged not to a vile person to deny God. Which Proverb came of this, that the nobility and gentlemen were so ill taught, and so ignorant of true nobility, that they reserved this occupation to themselves as proper to their estate, turning it to their glory, and endeavouring to be feared by this means. The right Arms of Mach●au●llian Nobility. And surely these were fair Arms, and goodly scutcheons to set forth the Nobility of their estate by, namely, horrible and execrable blasphemies, which the very jews and Turks would never suffer among themselves. I would to God we might now say rightly, that this was once, but is no more: and so likewise, that there were not some among them that think themselves the greatest men, who have this in their thoughts, if they dare not speak it openly, that it belongeth not to men of courage to believe in God and in his word, or to think that there is a judgement to come, at which men shall appear: but that this appertaineth to the simple and foolish, not to these great and noble spirits, which fly above the clouds, and indeed know more than they ought, to lead them into hell. But as by the difference of appetites and desires, An argument of the pleasures of the soul to show the immortality thereof. we have showed them that the soul cannot be mortal, which concludeth a divine providence and a second life, as we declared before, so it is an easy matter to prove the same by those pleasures in which the soul taketh delight. For by how much the more those things that bring delights, do resemble the virtue of the soul that is delighted, and the greater affinity, proportion and agreement they have with it, so much the greater, sweeter, and more pleasant are the delights, as also more firm and of longer continuance. Indeed it may be objected unto me, that if we look to this we shall find, that the greatest part of men take more pleasure in those delights which they can receive by their senses, which are more earthy and brutish, then in others that are more natural to the spirit, and more spiritual and heavenly: and therefore the judgement that we can gather from hence of the nature and essence of the soul, Some more like to beasts than men. may seem not to agree to this we speak of. It is very certain that some men are of such a brutish nature, that a man may well doubt whether they be men or no, and whether they deserve not rather to be reckoned in the number of beasts, to which they are more like than to men, except it be for their face: in which respect also a man may compare them with Apes. For if they be led by the same desires and lusts, and satisfy themselves therein as brute beasts, and go no further, wherein do they differ from them? and to what purpose serveth that which God hath bestowed upon their souls more than upon the souls of beasts, if they content themselves with a brutish life & pleasure as they do? For where is the use of reason & understanding which God hath bestowed upon them more than upon beasts? And if they use them no more than beasts do that are altogether void of them, who can know whether they are partakers of them more than they? And so consequently, how shall that definition commonly given of man, agree to them, wherein he is called a living creature partaker of reason? Therefore when we inquire of the nature and substance of the soul, we must follow that rule, which is usually propounded in searching out the nature and essence of all other things. For when a man would have true knowledge of them, he taketh not in each kind of them that which may be in some of the same kind, less perfect and monstrous. As if there be occasion to judge of the nature of man's body, no man will take them that have some defect of Nature, or that are more deformed and monstrous then others: but the soundest, goodliest, and most perfect bodies. We must do the like when we search into the nature and essence of the soul. For to know it well, we must not make choice of men that are borne brutish, so that a man can know nothing in them whereby they differ from brute beasts, except the outward shape of a man. How we must judge of the nature of the soul. Yea there are some borne with less sense and government of themselves, than beasts have. The like may be said of them, who being better borne, voluntarily become brutish of themselves. For this cause, we must chief consider what effects the noblest and most excellent souls bring forth, if we will judge of the nature of all other souls that are of the same kind. For albeit the souls of some men are more brutish then of others, yet it followeth not but they are all of one and the same nature & substance, seeing they are all of one kind: but the difference between them proceedeth from hence, that some are more degenerated from their true and proper nature, than others are. Nevertheless this changeth not their natural essence, but that always continueth one and the same in all: as the ill disposition of bodies taketh not from them that nature & essence which they have common with others, notwithstanding they differ from them, as a sick and deformed body differeth from a sound and perfect body. Now there is no doubt, Of the true pleasures of the soul. but that the noblest and most excellent souls take more pleasure in the internal senses then in the external, and more in reason then in fancy and imagination, but above all in the contemplation of the Spirit. And among those things, which the Spirit doth contemplate, it delighteth most & stayeth longest in them that are spiritual and eternal, that are highest & of greatest sovereignty. And as the spirit longeth most after these pleasures, and retaineth them with greatest affection, so it is less weary in searching for them and in the contemplation of them. Whereupon it followeth, that spiritual and eternal things are more conformable to the Spirit, than those that are corporal and temporary: and that it hath greater participation and agreement with heavenly things then with earthly. For it is marvelously delighted and contented with spiritual things, as if they were his own things, which is by similitude, proportion, and agreement of nature: as contrariwise, both the internal and external senses please themselves in corporal things, and are not able to comprehend or attain to the other, but only by conjecture. Whereas if the Spirit were as mortal as the senses, than the excellentest Spirits, and such as approach nearest to the heavenly Spirits and to the nature of God, would give themselves to transitory and corruptible things as much as the senses do, and would search after them as earnestly as it doth after true and perfect pleasures. But we see by experience, that they ascend up a great deal higher. Yea the Spirits even of most carnal and brutish men, An argument from insatiable pleasures for the immortality of the soul. in that they never meet with any pleasures in transitory things that do fully content and satisfy them, thereby give evident testimony, that they are borne to enjoy greater pleasures than they can find in all this nature, and that they are of another nature, surpassing them, which mounteth above corporal and temporary things. For who ever saw an ambitious man satisfied with honours, or a covetous wretch with riches? And from whence cometh this that they are so insatiable, but only because the spirit that God hath given them, is of so noble a race and of such an excellent nature, that how much soever it be fallen from his first nature and nobility, yet it can never content itself with any thing, that is of another nature more base and vile than it own, as that which is too much unworthy and unbeseeming the Spirit, and very much disagreeing from the essence of it. For although, being buried in this body, as in a sink of all carnal and brutish affections, it can not so well perceive it own nature, dignity, and nobility, nor acknowledge the same so well, as the noblest and most excellent spirits, and such as are farthest from this stinking puddle, are able to do: nevertheless without thinking thereupon as it were, it hath evermore a secret sense of it own nature and dignity, which keepeth it from being contented with any thing whatsoever, although it be with never so great liking and abundance, except it enjoy that thing which is most proper and agreeable to his natural disposition, which is of a more high, noble, and excellent nature, than any thing proceeding from this mortal and transitory mass. But because it is buried in this darkness, which sin hath brought upon the minds of men, the same thing happeneth to the spirit, of which we have already spoken concerning the immortality and eternity of name and renown. For the right and natural desire of true and immortal honours, and of eternal riches agreeable to the nature of man's soul, is degenerated into this false and corrupted appetite of worldly honours and temporal riches. Notwithstanding this is manifest hereby, that as every Spirit always searcheth after God as a blind man goeth by groping, as we have heard already: so it seeketh after riches and honours agreeable to it own nature. But because that darkness with which it is overwhelmed, hindereth it from knowing them well, and so consequently from taking that way, which it ought to enter in that it may attain unto them, A corrupt spirit taketh the shadow of things for the things themselves. therefore it changeth them into others, that are of a differing and clean contrary nature. So that it can never find out or attain to that which it seeketh, because it is ignorant thereof, and so seeketh for it under a mask, which it taketh for the true face, and under a shadow, which it taketh for the very body: whereby it cometh to pass that the mask and shadow remain with it, instead of the very face and body that are lost by means of them. In which the same thing happeneth to the spirit that doth in the matter of religion, when it forgeth unto itself new & strange gods, and idols instead of the true God whom it searcheth after, because it knoweth not who he is, although it seeketh him, & desireth to find him. Wherefore being thus deceived, & not knowing it, neither the means whereby it is deceived, it still desireth, because it perceiveth very well whether it will or no, that it hath not attained to that which it wanteth, as indeed it might well know the same, if it were not become very brutish, by reason that it never findeth any contentation in any thing that it doth, or can attain unto. An argument taken from vices for the immortality of the soul. By which things we may further learn, that men shall find even in their vices, testimonies of the nature, essence and immortality of their souls, whereby they may be convicted, & namely in their ambition & covetousness, which ought to admonish them of that that hath been set down, & to cause them to think more diligently thereupon. We may say the same of their lust. For although it be in the number of those pleasures that are most earthy & brutish, & which the senses themselves both external and internal aught to be soon weary of, for the reasons before heard: nevertheless they show plainly how insatiable this appetite is in them, in that no kind of lust can content them: insomuch as they are carried headlong there withal even beyond the bounds of nature, within which brute beasts contain themselves. And truly all these things ought to drive us into admiration, and cause us to consider the just judgement of God upon men, & how he is revenged of them for dishonouring him, & their own nature, by suffering it to degenerate & wax beastlike, in forsaking spiritual, heavenly, & divine things, for those are corporal, earthly, and brutish. Therefore God depriveth them of that understanding which he had given them, How God punisheth vicious desire's. that they should torment themselves after such things as vex their spirit, as it were damned souls, and that so much the more miserably and with less contentation, as they enjoy more of them. For what a torment is ambition and covetousness, and other affections and vices that accompany them? And if we speak of lust, we see what is the vengeance of God upon them, who going beyond the bounds of nature, so dishonour their bodies and their own nature, that there is no essence or nature whatsoever, unto which they may be compared. For none do so much pervert their nature as they: I mean not beasts only, but not the devils themselves. And although they be so beastlike, as to consider no more of the nature and essence of their soul than they do of beasts, yet the very figure of their bodies should make them to think, that God hath not made it differing from beasts, and namely in creating the head and face upwards, but that he hath also endued them with a soul differing from theirs, to the end it might be correspondent to the body in which it is. But it belongeth to thee, ASER, to prosecute this argument, thereby to show unto us the immortality of the soul. Of the testimony that men have of the immortal nature of the soul in their very body, by the composition and frame thereof: of that which is in the motion and rest of their soul: how the creation of the whole world should be vain, & how there should be no providence of God no religion no divine justice if the soul were mortal: of the multitude and qualities of the witnesses that stand for the immortality thereof. Chap. 93. ASER. That good king Ezechias complaining in his sickness, said, Mine habitation is departed, Esay 38. 12. and is removed from me like a shepherds tent: I have cut off like aweaver my life. This holy man compareth his body and the life of man in it, to a tabernacle and lodge, or to a tent and pavilion, which are no firm lodgings but removable, and such as may be transported from one place to another, as soldiers carry away theirs, when they raise their camp to pitch it in some other place. And indeed a man's body in this world is as it were a lodging assigned for his soul to abide in a while, not to dwell there always, as it were in one place. For this life, is like to a military life, and as a continual warfare, until such time as we depart hence, and that God cutteth it off, (after we have finished our appointed days) as a weaver cutteth off the threads at the end of his web after it is finished. Therefore Saint Peter also calleth his body a tabernacle when he saith, 2. Pet. 1. 13, 14. I think it meet as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance, seeing I know that the time is at hand that I must lay down this tabernacle, even as our Lord jesus Christ hath showed me. Saint Paul also useth the like manner of speech when he saith, 2. Cor. 5. 1, 2. For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle be destroyed, we have a building given of God, an house not made with hands, but eternal in the heavens. For therefore we sigh, desiring to be clothed with our house, which is from heaven. And to this agreeth that which is written in the epistle to the Hebrews, For here we have no continuing city, Hebr. 13. 14. but we seek one to come. Here truly are notable testimonies of the second and eternal life, against them that doubt of the immortality of the soul. But according to that which is given us in charge to discourse of touching this matter, we must bring them other testimonies even in their bodies, seeing their spirit cannot mount up to celestial and divine things. We may easily judge, An argument taken from the frame of man's body to prove the immortality of his soul. if there be any light of nature remaining in our mind, that God would have us know, by the composition and stature of our bodies, how the soul and spirit dwelling within them should be affected, and whither it ought to look. For why would God lift the head & face of men upwards, and not the head of beasts, but that he would admonish them thereby, that they are of a celestial nature? and that they must always look, not to the earth as beasts do, but to heaven, as to their native country, from whence they received their Original, in respect of their principal part, which all Atheists and Epicures do renounce? And if the body be lifted strait upward, the spirit is much more, which ascending by degrees from inferior things, maketh no stay until it come to heavenly and divine things: and having at length attained unto them, it stayeth there and contenteth itself therein. Another argument taken from the motion and rest of the soul. In regard whereof, as in natural things we know by their moving and resting which is their natural place, so by the same reason we may judge of the natural place of man's soul, which is in perpetual motion, and can find no rest here below on the earth, as the souls of beasts can: which because they are altogether earthy, and all their natural and proper good coming from no higher place than from the earth, their snouts also are continually bending towards it: and the more earthy and brutish they are, the more downwards do they always bend. This we may easily perceive, if we compare not only the beasts of the earth with birds, which hold more of the nature of the air, and live most therein, but also if we compare the beasts of the earth one with an other. For albeit all of them have their snouts inclining towards the earth, yet the hog hath his head more bending downward than others have. For it is fashioned and bowed after such a fashion, that no beast can less lift up the head and stretch it towards heaven then the hog, neither is any so much troubled as that is, when by force it is compelled to look upward. The same may be said of the mole, and of other such like beasts. Therefore if the Good that is proper and peculiar to the nature of man, consist not in this eternity and celestial immortality of which we speak, to what purpose is his head lift upward, and his eyes looking towards heaven, especially seeing God hath joined these things with a soul that is partaker of reason and understanding? Of a fish called Vranoscopos. For among the beasts, we find one fish, that hath the eyes set in the top of the head, and therefore it is called by the Grecians Vranoscopos, which signifieth as much as a Beholder of heaven, or looking towards heaven. But because it is not partaker of understanding and reason, more than other beasts are, and seeing the soul of it differeth not from theirs, we may easily judge, that the eyes of it were not set in that place for the same reason that man hath his lifted up towards heaven. Shall we say then that God hath created man and endued him with so many graces and singular properties, to make him more wretched than beasts in this life, who otherwise is so miserable, and compassed about with so many evils on every side? For whereto serveth the disposition of his nature, but to torment him the more by looking up towards heaven, and by that knowledge which he hath more than beasts have, thereby increasing in him a vain desire of such a happiness as he can never enjoy? And which is worse, the more noble spirit that any one hath, the more learned and virtuous he is, or the more and longer oppressed he is with the miseries of this life, the more would this vain desire prick and torment him. And if there be some, who like beasts pass over all these things without any sense and feeling, this befalleth them, either because they are of a heavy, sleepy and blockish spirit, or else because they are drunken with that which is commonly called Fortune's favour, namely, with the honours, riches, and pleasures of this world. So that we must conclude upon this speech, that because beasts do here all that they have to do, according to those powers and gifts that are naturally in them, therefore they live and die here: but because the Spirit given to man, can not do here according to his natural disposition, it followeth necessarily, that as it is borne in an other place, so it must have another place wherein to effect that which it hath to do. Except the soul be immortal, man is created in vain. And contrariwise, if the soul of man be mortal, all that he hath to do is in this life, as it is with beasts: and then also it followeth, that he was created in vain and without cause. For God created nothing, but he propounded to himself the end for which he created it, and that such an end as is agreeable to the nature and dignity of every one of his works, else all things should have been created in vain by him. Now if he created man only to live in this world, as he did other creatures, than did he not in his creation propound to himself an end beseeming the excellency of such a nature. Which thing the greatest Philosophers amongst the heathen have after due consideration been constrained to confess. And if man, for whose sake the whole visible world was created, and who only can, will, and knoweth how to use all things contained therein, was created and received this life in vain, what shall we think of all other things that we created because of him, and for his sake? Shall not the whole work of creation be in vain, and unworthy the infinite majesty and wisdom of God the Creator? and he that is the Governor of the world, shall he not be spoiled of all providence? Who ought not to abhor the very cogitation of such a thing? The immortality of the soul is linked to the religion & providence of God. And yet the religion of God, his providence, and the immortality of our soul are so fast linked and joined together, and depend in such sort one upon an other, that they can not be separated, neither indeed is it lawful to separate them. For he that abolisheth the one, shaketh also that faith which we ought to hold of the rest: because if our souls be not immortal, there is neither punishment nor reward, either for virtue or vice, or for the good or ill deeds of men. For we see evidently, how all things are mingled and confused in the course of this present life, that they are turned into a common robbery, that the worst men make themselves Masters and Lords of the world, as if it were created only for them, that they might be in it as gods upon the earth: and contrariwise that good and just men may seem to have been created only for a pray to the wicked, and to be less accounted of them then the brute beasts. Which if it were so, then should God have no care of men: and if he have no care of them, how shall he be their GOD and Creator, and why should they rather than beasts call upon him and honour him? For if it were so, what hath he done, or what doth he yet more for them unto whom he hath given his law and commandment to call upon him, to honour and serve him, than he doth for beasts to whom he hath given no such law or commandment, and who do not call upon him nor honour him according to the same as men do? And what may we account all religion, all fear and reverence of God to be, all holiness, honesty, and virtue, but superstition, and a vain and foolish opinion and fancy of the mind of man? Notwithstanding there hath always been a common testimony and consent of religion among all nations, An argument taken from the consent of all people. even amongst the most barbarous and rudest people that ever werefound. Neither ever were any so ill taught, but they have put some difference between virtue and vice, and between honesty and dishonesty. It can not be then, but that religion and virtue, naturally engraven in the heart of man, are good things, yea far better than their contraries. Whereas if God had no more respect to the one then to the other, & were not to judge thereof, to what purpose serveth this difference which men make between them? and what profit shall they reap to themselves by esteeming better of that which is good, then of evil? Good men should not only receive less profit by virtue then by vice, but further they should be damnified by the same: & wicked men should ever have the better, yea they should be rewarded instead of being punished. Other reasons to the same end. For the best and justest men are commonly a pray unto the wicked. And who shall deliver them out of their hands, seeing for the most part they are the strongest, and have in a manner the government of the world in their power, so that the most innocent persons are at their mercy as it were, except God should let them have justice either here in this world or in some other? And if God should fail in doing justice, upon what right should the justice that men use against malefactors be grounded? Shall there be more justice in men, who are altogether injustice themselves, then in God who is the fountain of all justice, yea justice itself? All this must be so, or else we must confess, that all these things testify unto us, that God hath care over us, and that there is an other place and time of rewarding every man according to his works, then in this world, and here in this life. For this cause Saint Peter calleth the day of the last judgement, in which all shall appear before God, the time of the restoration of all things foretold of God by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began. Acts 3. 21. For considering that all things are so confused and troubled in the world, that it seemeth there is no difference betwixt the blessings and curses of God pronounced in his law, and that all things are turned topsie turuy by the malice of men, the Lord hath ordained a place and time, in which he will put an end to this disorder, and will restore all things to their right estate and good order. Now if the Lord hath appointed that every one shallbe rewarded at that time and place, it followeth that then and there also we must search for the end for which man was created, and that his soul shall live there. And if the soul than liveth, and in that place, it followeth well also that there is the end of it. What the end● of a thing is. For we take the end for that which is the last and most perfect in every thing. So that if the question be of the authority of men, and multitude of witnesses for the confirmation of that, which hath been hitherto said of the immortality of the souls of men, Of the multitude and quality of witnesses to prove the immortality of the soul. we shall have for this purpose all those, who from the beginning of the world amongst all people and nations, have believed and thought that there is a God, that there is a Divine nature and providence, and consequently any religion: yea even those barbarous and savage nations, which were found out of late days in those new islands, commonly called the new found world. And if the quality of the witnesses is to be considered, we shall still have almost all on our side. For if we look unto the most barbarous and strangest nations that are, the testimony of nature which all of them carry in their hearts, compelleth them to range themselves on this side. And if we come to others that have been more civil & better instructed, we shall have a greater advantage. Or if the question be of the greatest, and of such as by the consent and testimony of all, were accounted, and were indeed best learned and most virtuous, we shall not only find them to have been on our side, but also that they have condemned as ignorant men and unworthy to live, them that have been of a contrary opinion, betwixt which men and the other there is great difference. What kind of Philosopher's Atheists and Epicures were. For those among the Philosophers that denied the immortality of the soul, were such as did abolish also all divine nature and providence, and all religion, and such as placed the sovereign good of men in pleasure: which kind of men were always worthily taken to be the vilest and most abject, and as it were the scum and dregs of the professors of Philosophy. For to the end we may the better understand this, by mine advise we will consider of the best arguments that are alleged by Philosophers to prove the immortality of souls, that they who will not credit the testimony of the holy Scriptures, may feel themselves urged in their conscience with the sayings of Ethnics and heathen men, who shall rise up in judgement against them, to aggravate their condemnation. Now it belongeth to thee, AMANA, to follow this matter. Of an other argument for the immortality of the soul taken from that natural desire which men have of knowledge: of Aristoteles opinion touching the nature and immortality of the soul: of other reasons of Philosophers to prove that the spirit can not be of a corruptible and mortal nature: and how just men should be more miserable, and should have more occasion to fear and to eschew death, than the unjust and wicked, if the soul were mortal. Chap. 94. AMANA. There is in all men a natural desire of knowledge and wisdom: yea a man may perceive that most barbarous men desire naturally to know, unto what Art soever they apply their spirit, judging the same to be commendable & honest, as contrariwise they account it unbeseeming a man and dishonest, to be ignorant, to err, and to be deceived. From this desire the wisest and most famous among the Philosophers took a very good argument to prove the immortality of the soul. For seeing this desire is natural, and that in this world all the knowledge and wisdom that men can have, is very small, and as it were nothing in respect of that which they want, they conclude necessarily, that there must needs be some other place and time then in this life, wherein that which is here begun but slenderly, is to be accomplished and made perfect. The reason from whence they derive their argument, An argument taken from the desire of wisedometo prove the immortality of the soul. is that common saying, that God and Nature the minister of God do nothing without cause. Wherefore seeing this desire of knowledge and wisdom is natural in man, it can not be in vain, neither is it given unto him, but that it should attain to some end and perfection. For to what purpose served the corporal eyes of living creatures, and for what cause should they be given them, if they could never see, or were to live always in darkness? So likewise, why should the eyes of the soul & mind be given to men, thereby to behold celestial and divine things, which cannot be seen with bodily eyes, if they could never view them, but in such darkness as they do here behold them? To what end also should man be naturally pricked forward with a desire to know the truth and to have skill, if he could never sound enjoy his desire, but should remain always in ignorance for the greatest part of those things, which he desireth to know, & which are of so great weight, that whatsoever he is able to understand and know in this world, is nothing or very little in regard of that which yet remaineth behind for him to know? For not to speak of those things in which all human philosophy must acknowledge her ignorance, let us come to that understanding which we may have by the holy Scriptures revealed unto us of God. For although the knowledge we have by them, surpasseth without all comparison all human philosophy and science, 1. Cor. 13. 12. yet Saint Paul compareth it to a knowledge that is very obscure, to a light that is seen through thick and dark clouds, and to an image represented unto us in a glass, in comparison of that most high and perfect knowledge and understanding, which is reserved for us in another life, and whereof we have here but a very little taste and weak beginning. Therefore if we could never go further, would it not be a vain and ridiculous thing, if God had given this desire only to men, and never would vouchsafe to let them have the effect of it? And if it were so, that God had not ordained an other time and place, for the finishing of that which is here begin in this life, it seemeth that the complaint made by some of the greatest Philosophers against Nature, should not be without some ground of reason. An objection made by some Philosophers. For what just cause is there, that he should give a longer life to some beasts then to men, seeing it skilleth not whether beasts live long or no, because long life cannot make them more learned or more wise than they are at their birth? But it is otherwise in man. For seeing that knowledge and wisdom are his greatest Good, whereby he approacheth nearer to the nature of God, and of which all his other good things chiefly depend, it seemeth to stand with reason, that God should have given a longer life to men then to beasts, that so they might the better attain to so great a Good, so necessary for them, in regard of which especially, they are preferred before beasts and differ from them. For we see by experience, that we must die so soon almost as we begin to taste of Sciences, The answer. and to wax wise. But we have no cause to make this complaint against the wisdom, prudence, and goodness of God, who hath granted us life long enough, wherein we may learn here as much as we need (if we could use it well) both to pass away this life, and also to attain to the other, in which we shall abound in knowledge and wisdom, and be fully satisfied therewithal. And although God had given us a life twice as long in this world as that we now enjoy, so that we might live as long as the ancient patriarchs, whose years were so many, especially before the flood as Moses testifieth, yet all that which we could possibly learn during the time of so long life, would be very little in comparison of the knowledge reserved for us in that Eternity. For the eyes of our spirit and mind are not able to endure so great brightness of heavenly knowledge and wisdom, whilst it is here shut up and as it were imprisoned in this body of sin, and in a manner wholly overwhelmed with darkness: but it fareth with the spirit in this respect, as it doth with the Owl in regard of his eyes, and of the light of the sun. Therefore every one hath better cause to assure himself, that God hath appointed an other time and place for the full accomplishment of this desire of knowledge and wisdom, that is so firmly engraven in the nature of men, then to accuse God, as if he offered them injury to deprive them thereof by the shortness of their life. Now let us come to other particular reasons of Philosophers concerning this matter we have in handling. Aristoteles opinion touching the immortality of the soul. Although Aristotele so famous amongst them be very obscure and wavering where he handleth the same, so that it is a very hard matter to understand what was his opinion and resolution therein, nevertheless he dares not plainly say, that the spirit of man is of a bodily nature and corruptible matter, or that it is mortal as the body is. But in one place he saith, that if the Spirit be able to understand without the fantasy, it may be separated from it: but if it cannot understand without it, than it cannot be separated. Which is all one as if he said, that if the spirit could understand without the senses, and the understanding and reason without fantasy and imagination, than a man might certainly conclude, that there is a difference in nature and substance between these things, and that there may a separation be made: so that the destruction of the one doth not bring with it a corruption of the other. Wherefore none may conclude the mortality of the spirit that is capable of reason and understanding, by the mortality either of the external or internal senses. But Aristotele leaveth it doubtful in this place, whether this separation may be made yea or no, and whether a man may conclude thereupon, that the spirit is of an other nature and substance than the senses are, and so consequently immortal. But it followeth not, that if the soul being in the body understandeth things bodily, that is to say, by the bodily instruments that are outward, and then by the conveyance of the internal senses, therefore it can understand nothing but that which they declare and bring unto it. How the understanding cometh to the knowledge of outward things by the senses. For after the internal senses have gathered together the images and similitudes of those external things that are offered unto them, and so retaineth them fast being secluded and separated from all matter, the understanding is to receive from thence the first and simple knowledge of things. So that as the qualities of external things are the matter subject of the internal senses, so their images conceived by the internal senses, and purged from all bodily matter, are the matter subject of the understanding and spirit. And the spirit labouring about them draweth out certain motions, and knoweth many things from them, which can not move the senses, and which the senses can not know. And yet the spirit is first moved by these images, as the senses are by external things. But we must declare these things somewhat more familiarly. We understand already, how corporal things are the subject and objects of the corporal senses, and that the bodily senses receive and know them corporally, even such as they are presented unto them, every one according to his nature and office. How the outward senses look upon things. But they cannot receive or perceive any more than that which is laid open unto them, and manifesteth itself outwardly. How the internal senses receive the same things. Now after the outward senses have thus received them and their matter covered with their qualities, the internal senses, to which the external are serviceable, conceive the images without the matters and qualities of those things whereof they are images. For the eye cannot see either the sun or the light of it, nor yet any other creature discovered by the light, except it be present before it. But the Fantasy and imagination receive and conceive the images of things, even in darkness, although the things of which they are images, appearant to the eyes, nor yet are perceived at that present by any corporal sense. We see then already how these images are separated from the matter of which they are images, and how the internal senses behold them without their matter & bodies, as the external senses look upon them being joined with their bodies. Then having received them thus purged from their corporal matter, the spirit receiveth them yet more pure, and goeth further in the knowledge and understanding of them then all the senses do, comprehending other things, of which the senses can have no knowledge or apprehension. How the Spirit receiveth them from the internal senses. And thus the Spirit beholdeth and understandeth corporal things corporally, that is by means of those instruments which it hath in the body, and spiritual things it beholdeth spiritually without those instruments. Whereupon it followeth, that although it useth the senses and such kind of instruments, nevertheless it is not so tied unto them that it can not be separated, or do nothing without them, or not know and understand that which they are not able to conceive or know. Other reasons for the immortality of the soul. So that it is no hard matter to believe, that the soul is of another nature and substance, as a man may judge also by this that it is the fountain and beginning of motion begun by itself, and not by any other, but as we have already declared. Likewise by this, that it is capable of the knowledge of infinite things, of which it retaineth the memory, and that it inquireth into secret things separated from all corporal matter, which can not be perceived by any sense: and that it doth so many and so great things without the help of any bodily nature. Whereupon the Philosophers conclude, that it is of a simple nature, not compounded, and so consequently that it is immortal. For that nature, which is adorned and decked with such virtues, and with the faculty to understand, the like whereof is not in the body, and which can understand by itself without the use of the body, can not be compounded of an earthly and mortal nature, nor have any part thereof mingled with itself, but it is stayed and sustained by itself, The soul can not be divided. it subsisteth of itself and is immortal. Hereof also it followeth, that if the soul of man be of such a nature, than it cannot be rend in sunder or divided, or pulled into pieces, or have any thing in it that can be separated from it: and so it must needs be that it can not die or perish. And therefore the best and most excellent Philosophers hold that sentence as immovable, which Aristotle saith in an other place, namely, that the spirit is a thing separate and distinct from the senses and from the body, as an immortal thing from a mortal: and that it cometh from without, and elsewhere then from the body, as we have already touched it in another place. Whereby to my thinking, he hath declared very plainly, that he did not take the soul of man to be mortal. But yet it is somewhat hard to judge what his opinion was, because he doth not show himself so openly as the matter requireth. Yet whatsoever he thought or resolved with himself, the soul shall not be therefore any whit the more mortal or immortal. For the immortality thereof dependeth not upon his opinion, or of any other man's whatsoever. Nevertheless seeing so subtle and sharp a Philosopher durst not affirm that it was mortal, every one of any sound mind may well judge, that he knew there were too many arguments to the contrary, and those so weighty, that they deserved to be diligently examined, and were not so lightly to be rejected. For he was not so shamefast and modest, but he durst boldly reject and condemn the opinions and sentences of all others that were as well in his time as before him, how great and famous personages soever they were, when he thought he could do it with any show of reason, insomuch as he spared not his master Plato. Therefore albeit we had no other resolution from him touching this matter, but this only that he was in doubt, and durst affirm nothing on either side, yet his authority ought to prevail much with us against them who depend only of human Philosophy and reason, and are so easily induced to approve rather of the mortality then of the immortality of the soul. For at leastwise they may imagine, that so great a Philosopher who is in such wonderful estimation amongst all learned men, did not judge their reasons frivolous and vain, who maintained the immortality of the soul, as our Epicures and Atheists think, because they are more blockish and foolhardy. And therefore they boldly condemn that which either they will not or cannot conceive and comprehend, not considering what a confusion of things their opinion worketh in all mankind. Other reasons for the immortality of the soul. For besides that which we have spoken to this purpose already, if it were so that the soul were mortal, the wickedest and most desperate men should have that which they desire most, and which is most expedient for them: and that should befall the best and justest men, which they abhor most, and flee from as very hurtful for them: contrary to that which Solomon saith in the proverbs, Prou. 10. 24. That the wicked shall fall into the evil he feareth, and that the desire of the just shallbe accomplished. In regard whereof good men should have far greater reason to fear death, than the wicked to desire it. For what good man is there of noble courage, who will not greatly abhor death, when he thinketh with himself, that it consumeth and swalloweth up the whole man, as if he were buried in perpetual darkness? What consolation will serve him, and what comfort can a man offer him, that will be able to surmount the fear and horror of death, but that he will expect and suffer it with great impatiency and despair, when he shall be through necessity brought unto it? As for that consolation, which is taken from the necessity of nature, and from the common condition of all men, it is very lean if there be no other. We see by them who are so greatly tormented, that they wish and ask after death, as after a haven wherein they may be delivered from that tempest and torment in which they are, although the grief which they suffer breed such vows and desires in them, yet if they have but a small respite, they gather some consolation to themselves by some assurance, that their grief will in time cease, or else that time and custom will make it lighter unto them, and will teach them to bear it patiently. To be short, Every one naturally desireth life. life is acceptable and beloved of every one, that such as are most miserable and wretched cannot be brought to leave it but with great grief, no not those who destroy themselves with their own hands. Whereby we may judge, how much more bitter it is to them that have not all these occasions to desire it. For every one may imagine, what extreme grief it would be to a good man, who for living honestly all his life time, and for all the good which he had ever thought, spoken or done, should not only receive no honour nor recompense in this world, but which is worse, (as it commonly falleth out among men) should receive nothing but evil for good. And yet in the mean time he should see the worst men, that wholly give over themselves to dishonour and despite God, enjoy the honours, riches, and pleasures of this world: and contrariwise himself to have nothing but dishonour, shame, confusion, famine, poverty, misery, sorrow, torment, and oftentimes cruel death. What comfort can such a body have, if he think that there is no other reward after this life, nor any better estate for him then for the most wicked and abominable person in the world? And although none of all this should ever happen to good men, yet what contentation could they find in all the rewards, which they should receive in this world for recompense of their virtue? It is an easy matter to judge by this, that the memory of the name and praise of well-doing doth not always take effect, neither is it always due to them that have it, but oftentimes very unjustly given. But from thee, ARAM, we shall receive more full instruction touching this matter. Of that praise and reward which wisdom and virtue may receive of men in this world: how miserable it is, if there be no better prepared for them elsewhere: how death would be more grievous and lamentable to the best learned and wisest men, then to the ignorant and foolish, if the soul were mortal: how the best and most certain judgement of men is for the immortality of the soul: of them who not believing the same, say that it is good for men to be in such an error. Chap. 95. ARAM. If the Philosophers might draw many arguments of great weight from the natural desires of men, to prove the immortality of souls, this which we have now to propound of the purpose & reward, which every one naturally desireth, is of great consideration touching this matter. For it is very certain, that the best & most just among men, albeit they could avoid all hurt from wicked men, wherewith commonly they are rewarded from procuring their good, yet they should not enjoy any true and sound contentation in any of these rewards, which they might have in this world as a recompense of their virtue. But rather whilst they were expecting and hoping for them, they should be ever in doubt and fear of missing them, by reason of the inconstancy of men, and of the uncertainty of all human things. So that nature might well seem to have given unto them this desire of praise and of reward, if they should never enjoy their desire elsewhere but in this present life. Whereof we may easily judge by the reasons that are to be set down. Reasons taken from reward and praise to prove the immortality of the soul. For the first, the memory of a man's name and the praise for well doing, doth not always come to pass, neither doth it fall out aright in regard of all, but is for the most part very unjust. For how often is glory and honour attributed to vices, yea to very execrable crimes and to the wicked, whereas it ought to be given to virtue and to good men? And if these have sometime any commendation, yet it is very sparing. But it falleth out much worse, when virtue receiveth blame in stead of praise. And when something is given to them unto whom it appertaineth, it cannot be stretched out far, by reason of the diversity and contrariety of natures, of minds and of opinions, of the manners of men, and of people and nations. For how often cometh it to pass, that some condemn and blame that which others approve and praise? Yea many times one and the same man will contradict himself through the inconstancy of his judgement, now dispraising that which before he had praised, and contrariwise. On the other side, albeit fame and commendation should be never so great, yet it could not be of any long continuance, considering that time consumeth, and bringeth an end to all that is under the heavens. Moreover, we see what great alterations are daily wrought by time: and although praise were perpetual among the living, yet what could it profit the dead? The dead have no feeling of praise. or what feeling can they have of that, more than of blame and infamy? For the praise which good kings and Princes have purchased by their virtues, and the memory they have left behind them among men, can profit them no more in regard of the world, than the memory of that infamy and dispraise, which tyrants have left behind them can do them any hurt. For how well or ill soever men speak and think one of another, the dead have no sense at all thereof. Yea it is likely, that they care not greatly for it, and that they rest never the less at their ease for all that. Therefore we may well conclude, that notwithstanding all the praise and reward which wisdom and virtue can receive from men in this world, yet they are still very miserable, if there be no better provided for them else where. And if wise and virtuous men hope for another reward, they must needs believe a second life, in which they shall be recompensed for their good and just works. But further, when a learned and wise man hath by his spirit discoursed and gone through the heavens, the planets and stars, beasts, men, and through all nature, yea hath reached to the Angels, and even to God himself the Creator and king of the whole world, and hath passed through all histories both new & old, and hath gotten the knowledge of all things contained in them, that have come to pass in the world: Death most lamentable to the best men, if the soul were not immortal. I pray you let us consider what he can be told of, that willbe more grievous, more bitter and fearful unto him, then of death, and what consolation can he receive when he shall understand, that his soul which hath seen and beheld so great riches, so many goodly and excellent things, and which hath been as it were the storehouse and treasury of them, shall be wholly extinguished in the midst of such a goodly, pleasant, and wonderful scaffold and theatre, that is so excellently adorned with all kind of beauty, so that it shall never be again at any time or in any place, nor shall have any more sense and feeling then the soul of a beast hath. What is he, who after such a consideration of death, should not have great cause to fear it, in so great misery as may befall him in this life? Do we think that these men among the Heathen who have heretofore slain themselves to eschew the hands of their enemies, and that shame and infamy which they feared to receive among men, and who have accounted it an act of great virtue and constancy to kill themselves in that manner for the avoiding of shame, would have done that which they did, if they had not thought that there had been another life besides this? Cato believed the immortality of the soul. At leastwise Cato Vticensis for his part part testifieth this unto us, who the same night in which he had purposed to kill himself (which he did because he would not fall into the hands and subjection of julius Caesar, against whom he had taken Arms in that civil war) caused those Dialogues of Plato to be read unto him, in which he maintaineth and confirmeth the immortality of the soul, according to the doctrine of his master Socrates. What comfort it is to believe a place of rest after this life. We may then judge by the contrary, what consolation it is to a good and wise man, against all the miseries that can befall him in this world, if he knoweth and is assuredly persuaded, that there is a resting place prepared for him, not therein to be deprived of all sense of good and evil, as they imagine who seek for rest in death without all hope of another life, but a place of happiness for them that with a good heart and Will have given themselves to virtue and holiness, which is appointed by God, who is aliust, almighty, and all good. For what rest can that thing find, which is not at all? So that if man be no more after the death of the body, than death cannot bring him any rest at all. And therefore we may say of this rest, that as God is not the God of the dead but of the living, according to the testimony of jesus Christ, so rest is not for them, that are not, but for them that are. For rest presupposeth a being, because the thing itself must needs be, as well as the rest that belongeth to it: otherwise neither of them both should have any being. Thus than we may judge, after so many reasons taken from nature, and having had so many testimonies as have hitherto been alleged, from the authority and sayings of men, on which side the truth is most certain, whether with them who have all good and wise men on their side, or with the other, who have none but foolish and wicked men. We have then in this matter which now we follow, What store of testimonies stand for the immortality of the soul. the judgement, authority and sentence of all the greatest and most excellent men in the world, with the greatest and chiefest part of all mankind. Unto whose testimony we may further add religion, justice, holiness and all virtues, which are so grounded, and laid upon the immortality of man's soul, that if this foundation be taken from them, they are altogether overthrown. For albeit they have their chiefest foundation in God, nevertheless he hath so ordained and ordered them, that they cannot take place, if there be no immortality of souls, and that for the reasons already declared. It followeth then well, that truth is on their side. For truth will rather stand for them, then for vices, villainies, and notorious wickedness, unto which the mortality of the soul is more agreeable than the immortality. And if all the Philosophers were not able to attain to the knowledge of the soul's nature, nor define the immortality thereof, we ought not to be greatly abashed, if such as were most ignorant, vile, and abject of them (as they are called by some of the best of the Ancients) abused themselves so grossly, and spoke so unreverently, seeing many of the greater sort and of good account, fell so shamefully, and showed themselves to be worser than beasts in some things whereof a man may judge by the outward senses. For have there not some been found, who albeit they saw the snow white, yet they durst maintain that it was black, and that pepper was white, and although they felt the fire hot and burning, yet affirmed that it was cold? But for this time let us leave the opinions of Philosophers, Of such as say, it is good to keep men in this opinion of the immortality of the soul, and yet themselves believe it not. and speak somewhat of them, who although they do not believe the immortality of souls, nor yet all that is spoken of GOD or of religion, say notwithstanding that it is good for the life of man, that men should be of that opinion, without which human society could not be kept inviolable, neither would men do any thing, as they ought, if they were not as it were with a bridle kept back by this fear, that there is another life after this, and that there are gods to take vengeance of such as have done evil. And therefore they say, that fear was the first that made gods. Hereof they conclude, that religion is nothing, but only in opinion, yea, that it is nothing else but superstition, which proceedeth from this foolish opinion. But seeing this error serveth for the benefit of man's life, it is good, say they, to uphold it, and to confirm men therein. And they that use this speech, are none of them that are taken to be fools and ignorant persons, but of the greater and skilfuller sort of people, yea of the wisest men of the world according to the judgement of men. How we must judge of a wise man. For when we speak of good men and such as are wise, we must judge of them according to the matter which we handle, and according to the judgement of God in his word. Therefore, if according to this reason we judge of these men of whom we now speak, they shall be found to be the grossest and most blockish beasts that the earth beareth. For all science, wisdom, and greatness, separated from virtue, are not the things themselves indeed, but brutishness rather, and vile baseness. And if we judge otherwise, what is all the knowledge, wisdom & greatness, that is in all men, in respect of that which is in one Devil only? For what want the devils from being Angels like to those blessed Angels that continue still in their obedience unto God? If there be any question made for greatness of spirit, they are all spirit. If for such wisdom and knowledge as the cunning and wise men of this world have, of whom have worldly wise men learned their skill but of them, in comparison of whom they are but young scholars? If the question be for greatness, what King or Prince in the world is so great as they? joh. 12. 31. For who is called the prince of this world by jesus Christ, 2. cor. 4. 4. the God of this world by Saint Paul, principalities, Ephe. 6. 12. powers, worldly governors, and the princes of the darkness of this world? Are not the devils so called, who rule and govern the great ones of the whole world, that are great indeed according to men, but not according God? What then do they want of being celestial Angels, but virtue and goodness? But because these men of whom we speak now, believe not that there are Angels or devils, we will beat them with other arguments. For of these men also there be some that say, we must hue as the most do, but follow the opinion of the fewest. Now then, when they would have men to be persuaded to virtue, and to do their duty by lying and error, namely, by entertaining in them an opinion of religion, and of a second life, although there be no such thing, is not this, a very proper means to call all truth into question, The inconveniences which follow the former opinion of persuading men to goodness by false means. and to trample all virtue under foot? For if any propound the immortality of souls unto men, not as if it were a true matter, but as a feigned and false thing, which yet they would have them believe as true, to the end that through the fear of God's judgement they might be kept back from evil, and lead unto goodness, every one may guess easily, how men will dispense with themselves, when they once know, that whatsoever is spoken and propounded unto them, is but as a scarecrow to make them afraid, as we use to deal with little children and with birds by puppets and strawe-men, and such like things. And who will first perceive and find out these subtleties, such as are most ignorant and foolish, or the other that are more skilful and wise? It is easy to judge, that they who have best wits and are best learned will sooner perceive the same than the other. Now what will follow hereupon, but that they being freed from the fear which held them in before, shall by the same means be let loof and sundered from the bond of all religion and virtue, as if it were clean broken: as it hath & daily doth happen to them that maintain this opinion, and to those also that have been taught and instructed in their school. And consequently this also will follow, that the quicker and sharper wit a man hath, and the greater knowledge & understanding is in him, the more wicked and bad man he will prove. For if he understand that religion is but religion in name, and indeed is nothing but foolish superstition, and if he judge as much of the immortality of the soul: having thus shaken off all religion, he will cast away all fear of God, and not suffer himself to be bridled in any sort, either by any terror of the judgement to come, or reverence of the deity, but only by the fear of men's laws. And if this take place in men, we may well think what licence they will take to themselves to commit the greatest sins and abominations in the world, especially if they be in darkness, and think that no man seethe them, and that there is no other judge that perceiveth them, to whom they must one day give an account. And if they be so great, that by their power they may violate all laws both divine and human, as tyrants commonly use to do, who shall stay them from living like savage beasts among men? So that as every one by dexterity of spirit, by doctrine and instruction, shall approach nearer to that perfection for which man was created of God, the more inclined, ready and armed he will be to commit all kind of malice and wickedness. For how can he do otherwise, when that secret of the school shall be disclosed unto him, and when he shall learn, that whatsoever is here taught concerning religion, virtue and honesty amongst men, is but feigned and invented for the nonce to keep men in fear? Surely this will cause him to let lose the rains to all licentiousness. Now what corruption of the spirit and mind of man is there comparable to this? or what will sooner turn it aside from that perfection in which the sovereign & chief good of it consisteth? Therefore seeing the case standeth thus, this opinion of theirs cannot be true, but overthroweth itself. For whatsoever corrupteth the spirit and turneth it from his perfection, is contrary to the nature thereof. Wherefore we must conclude, That which corrupteth the spirit is contrary to the nature of it. that it is far otherwise, and that this saying of theirs is as true, as if one should say, that the perfecter a man is, the more he is unperfect: the better he is, the worse he is: and the more truly he is man, the further off he is from the nature of a man, and more like to the nature of savage beasts. Who then can doubt of the truth of the soul's immortality after so great a multitude of arguments, and of so strong and so mighty witnesses, who fight in battle array, as it were a strong army, against them that uphold the contrary? But we have other no less worthy to be considered of, which we bear within ourselves, and which are so common to all, that there is no man whatsoever, but he feeleth and perceiveth them, whether he will or no. Therefore it shall be good for us to speak somewhat thereof also, to the end that the matter we have now in hand, may be the better and more perfectly understood, to the confusion of Epicures and Atheists: and that we may still acknowledge more and more the testimonies of the image of God in us, and who we be, and what good or evil things are prepared for us in the immortality of the second life, according as we shallbe conformed & reform to the will of God, or else as we shallbe removed from that image & give credit to impiety and lies. Now it belongeth to thee, ACHITOB, to discourse of this matter. Of those internal testimonies, which all men carry within themselves, to convince them that doubt of the immortality of the soul, & of the judgement to come, which shallbe in eternal happiness for the good, and perpetual torment for the evil: how the very Heathen acknowledged as much by reasons taken from the testimonies of nature. Chap. 96. ACHIT. The manifold miseries & scourges of God's wrath wherewith men are daily oppressed, should minister unto them just occasion to think, how odious their sins and wickedness are to God, & that he will not leave them unpunished, neither in this life nor in the life to come. For as he giveth to his children of his goodness, and of those good things which he hath prepared for them in another life, by the benefits which he communicateth unto them in this: so he setteth before our eyes testimonies of his wrath and of his judgement, and of those evils & torments which he hath prepared for the wicked in another life, by them wherewith he useth to correct and punish them here in this world. But besides this, every one hath within himself testimonies either of eternal blessings or curses to come: which may easily convince them that will not receive the authority of the scriptures, nor any natural reason to prove the immortality of the soul. For they bear about them all their witnesses & their own condemnation; and therefore it willbe an easy matter to convince them, The difference betwixt convincing and confounding a man. although not to confounded them. I say to convince them, because a man is then convinced, when he is compelled to acknowledge in his conscience, that he hath no reason whereby he is able to gainsay & withstand the truth declared unto him, which condemneth him. But yet if he be obstinate, headstrong, malicious and perverse, he never ceaseth for all that to kick against the prick, & to persevere in his obstinacy, & peevish malice. For when reason faileth him, he armeth himself with impudence, like to a bold murderer, and to a shameless strumpet that cannot be made ashamed. But howsoever wicked men labour to blind their mind, and to harden their heart against the judgement of God, yet the same is never declared unto them, but they feel themselves pricked & priessed therewith will they nill they: not that it fareth with them as it doth with God's children, who are touched therewith unto repentance, but as Saint Paul speaking of the wicked and obstinate saith, that God hath given them a pricking spirit, because they have a bitter heart, which stirreth them up to whet themselves as it were more and more against God, and to despite him, when they feel themselves pressed and urged by his word and by his judgements. Now than God having created Angels and men, Internal testimonies of the immortality of the soul. that they should know him and follow his will, gave them a nature endued with understanding, and hath set within them rules of judgement, and of certain knowledge, which are unto them as laws in nature, and hath also placed in them the will with the affections, as ministers and practisers of those rules and laws. This self-fame divine providence hath appointed also that the affection of joy should be naturally in men, which cometh unto them by reason of some good which they receive or look for, when they obey his laws that commandeth them to do just things: as contrariwise, he hath put in them the affection of sorrow and heaviness to take vengeance of their rebellion against his laws, and of the transgression of them. For as God hath decreed, that the nature of man should lead a joyful life, and should by this means of joy be preserved in the knowledge of God his creator and in his obedience, and so rest in him: so also he hath appointed flames of wrath and grief to destroy this nature, when it doth not conform itself unto the rule of his heavenly wisdom and will. Therefore we may well say, that we carry about with us, as it were our paradise and our Hell, and have already in this world true beginnings of them both. For so long as we conform ourselves to God and follow his wisdom and will, so that we submit our will to his, and desire not to be wise but in him and by him, nor judge any thing good or evil, but according to his judgement, neither will any thing but that which he willeth, and take no pleasure but in obeying and pleasing him, we cannot be thus affected towards him, The cause of true joy in the spirit. but we shall receive an unspeakable joy by that mutual participation of love which is between him and us, and by that taste which we receive thereby of his goodness, bounty, grace, and favour towards us, which is the top of all happiness. For as the nature of men was created of God, to the end it might be conformable unto him, so also it was ordained by him that it should live, not to be extinguished and undone through grief, which is an evil that corrupteth and consumeth as well as diseases. Therefore if it were conformable to God, so that men's hearts agreed unto reason and right judgement, they should always rejoice in well doing, both before and after the 〈…〉 and so we 〈…〉 as it were in Paradise. And although God be every where in regard of his nature and divine essence, Where God is said to be especially. which is infinite, nevertheless we mean according to the style of the holy scriptures, that he is properly and specially there, where he showeth himself good, gracious, and favourable. For this is more proper to his nature in regard of us, and that which maketh him more loving and amiable to us, and which is most necessary for us, and in regard whereof he calleth himself properly our God and our father. But as he kindleth the sparkles of love in their hearts that are upright and sincere, that love & honour him, which worketh in them so great joy and consolation, that all other joy and pleasure are nothing unto them in respect of that: so contrariwise, if we turn aside and separate ourselves from him, opposing ourselves against his wisdom and will, as rebellious subjects to their Prince, violating all his laws and statutes, he kindleth in us firebrands of his wrath and fury, which work in us extreme griefs, The true cause of grief & torment. so that we cannot bear them, but are consumed by them. For in this corruption and perverseness of nature, our heart burneth with the flames of this infernal fire with which it is kindled, and which strive against reason and right judgement, even before it hath committed the fault: neither doth it fear afterwards to commit the same, how great and enormous soever it be. But forasmuch as it belongeth to the justice of God, to destroy that nature which is disobedient unto him, he hath established this order, namely, that sorrow & grief (as it were the hangman) should punish and destroy them that are guilty, as criminal persons are punished by the appointment of justice. Wherefore although wicked men are oftentimes blockish and lulled asleep, and as it were void of all sense and feeling, so that they feel not this grief to the quick, nevertheless in the end it is thoroughly felt of them, so that it utterly destroyeth them. For it is like to a fire, which having been covered or smothered, afterwards kindleth again, and gathereth strength, when it is uncovered and receiveth air, if it have matter whereupon it may work. For besides that natural grief which hath this office, God addeth thereunto horrible fear and terror, whereby he overwhelmeth the wicked, as if he thundered upon them: so that even here they feel their Hell, and the fire of God's wrath taking hold of them, yea they carry about them their infern all furies, which are unto them instead of Hangmen. Thus we may learn, How men carry about them the matter of two fires. how we carry about with us the matter of two fires, the one celestial and divine, the other infernal and devilish. Wherefore let us consider well with ourselves, which of them we had rather have kindled in us, and which we ought to desire most, either that which giveth us both light and heat, and preserveth us in the hope of true life: or else that which burneth and consumeth us, and doth wholly deprive us of that life. Now surely they are very wretched, who desire not that which is most agreeable to their own nature, & utterly detest and abhor the other. For as we delight in the fire, because it giveth us light and warmeth us: so we fear greatly to be burned and consumed by it. Deut. 4. 24. heb. 12. 29. Now both these sorts of fire we find in God. For he is a fire to give light and warmth to them that approach & draw near unto him, and desire to walk in his light, but contrariwise, he is a consuming fire, Esay 66. 24. matth. 22. 13. & 25. 30. joined with smoke and obscurity, to them who by rebellion & disobedience rush against him. For this cause the fire of hell & of God's wrath, which is prepared for the devil and for all the reprobate, is called eternal fire in the holy scriptures, that is never put out: & the pains and torments of the damned are likewise called darkness without, where shallbe weeping and gnashing of teeth. And to the end we might know the nature of this fire the better, God hath put sparkles thereof within us. Wherefore we are only to consider what matter we bring to kindle and increase either the one or the other: either for the preservation of our nature and life, appointed unto us by God, or else for the overthrow and destruction thereof. And by the sense and feeling, which we may have here of that joy, gladness and contentation, which the knowledge of God and obedience to his will bringeth to our heart, we may also judge whether there be a paradise, and another life and other joy besides this, which we receive by corporal pleasures, as beasts do. For this joy that cometh to us from such pleasures, is common to us with them, & usually it endeth in sorrow and sadness. But they have no other that cometh unto their soul, of which they may have any apprehension as we have. And by the same consideration, we may also in some sort judge of that happiness in which we shall be in the other life, when this joy shallbe perfect in us whereof we have here but a very small taste, in respect of that we shall have, when we shallbe fully reform according to God's image, so that both our understanding, reason, & will shallbe made comformable unto him, because we shallbe wholly swallowed up in his love. Contrariwise, A sure argument in the wicked of their future torment in another life. if here we feel a Hell which we carry about us, and which greatly tormenteth us after we have offended the majesty of God, especially when we have committed some horrible crimes, this also is another argument whereby we may judge whether there be not a Hell, and vengeance from God to be executed upon his enemies in another life. For that sorrow, which our crimes committed do breed in our hearts, is within us as a brand of this fire of God's wrath, which is daily kindled in us more & more. Wherefore if there be in us already such a vehement heat thereof, when as yet the Lord doth kindle but a little the firebrands of his wrath in our hearts, how great shall it then be, when all his wrath shallbe set on fire? Certainly they are very dull that do not well consider and understand it. Now we have heard heretofore how the heathen Philosophers concluded the immortality of man's soul by the nature thereof, Natural reasons to prove the immortality of men's souls. affirming that it is not created or compounded of corruptible matter, but is of a celestial and divine nature, by reason of that knowledge which it hath, not only of particular and corporal things, as the soul of beasts hath, but also of universal and spiritual things, and namely, of God, of numbers, of order, of the difference between virtue and vice, and between honest and dishonest things. For the knowledge of all these things is so natural to men's souls, that they are within them, albeit they have not received them from without, either by doctrine or instruction. Whereby a man may easily judge, yea it followeth necessarily, that they are created of a more excellent nature than is that of the elements, of a nature that is incorruptible and perpetual. Wherefore it is very evident, that this knowledge, thus natural to men's souls, is a certain testimony, that they are not borne at all adventure, but are created by great art, and by a wonderful providence of that divine and eternal nature by which they have their being, namely God their Creator, for which cause also the knowledge of him shineth in us. So also we may well judge, that God hath not in vain placed in our nature the knowledge of the difference that is between virtue and vice, between things honest and dishonest, and that grief which is to take vengeance in us of those vices and crimes of which we feel ourselves guilty. And therefore the Heathen themselves concluded, that there was not only a divine justice and nature which discerned good men from evil, but also that there was another life after this, in which this judgement should be made. For they considered what great torments the wicked feel in their hearts and conscience, after they have committed horrible crimes: and that there is none so audacious and obdurate, not the greatest mocker and contemner of God and of his judgements that can be, who can always exempt himself from this dolour and pain, notwithstanding he labour with all his might to the contrary. For there is always a certain secret virtue of God's justice, which goeth beyond them all, and evermore punisheth the wicked. Now it is certain, that these things come not thus to pass at all adventure. In like manner, The natural knowledge of good and evil an argument of our immortality. it is not possible, that this knowledge which men have to discern virtues from vices should be a casual thing, and come thus to pass at adventure, without the certain providence of God. For if it were so, that there were no punishment appointed for vices, and no more benefit or joy prepared of God for the good then for the evil, it should follow that all this knowledge should be given to man in vain. For it should do him no more good than if he were without it as brute beasts are. Moreover, seeing all the wicked are not punished in this life, it followeth necessarily, that there is another life wherein they shallbe punished, and in which also God will acknowledge the just, and cause them to enjoy that good which he hath prepared for them. For God cannot be God, but he must be all-good, aliust, and almighty. If he be good, he cannot hate the good or them that do it, but love them so, as that he cannot do otherwise. For how should he not love his like? And as he cannot hate goodness or good men, so he cannot love evil, nor the wicked that follow after it; but hateth them necessarily as contrary to his nature. Now Love is of that nature, The nature of love and hatred. that it cannot but desire and procure the good and honour of him whom it loveth: as contrariwise, hatred cannot but desire and procure the hurt and dishonour of him whom it hateth. It followeth then necessarily, that God being good and just, loveth good and just men, desiring and procuring their honour and their good: and contrariwise, that he hateth unjust and wicked men, desiring and procuring their confusion and ruin. And if he have this desire and this will, no doubt but he can easily and doth also execute the same, seeing he is all-iust and almighty. Truly this conclusion cannot seem to be ill grounded, and those Heathen Philosophers, who thereupon have concluded the immortality of souls, and the judgement of God in another life, had good reason so to do. For it is taken not only from the nature of man and from that image of God after which he was created, but also from the very nature of God. So that whosoever gainesayeth the same, hath no more reason than if he said, that there is no God, and that God is not God, and that man is not man, and that he differed in nothing from a beast, neither God from the devil. And so not only all nature should be overthrown, but God also, the author and Creator thereof. For we see almost usually, that the wickedest men have the greatest honours in this world, and live most at their ease, as we have already showed. If then there be a God, and any providence and justice in him (now who can so much as think there is none, but he may also persuade himself withal that there is no world nor any creature, and that himself is not the same he is?) The necessity of another life after this. it must I say, of necessity follow, that if God be, there is also another life, in which that justice shallbe performed, which is not here executed, and in which both just and unjust shall receive every one the reward of his justice or injustice. For it is impossible, that God who is so good and so just a nature, should create mankind in that sort, as if he had created the best and justest part thereof, only to misery and wretchedness, and the worst to joy and happiness. Now continuing our discourse of those internal testimonies, which every one of us beareth within him of the immortality of the soul, we will speak to morrow of conscience, which presseth men to stand in awe of God and of his judgements. It is your part, ASER, to entreat of this matter. The end of the twelft days work. THE THIRTEENTH days work. Of the testimonies which every one may take from his conscience: of that fear unto which all men are naturally subject to prove the immortality of the soul, and a judgement of God upon the just and unjust: how that which the Atheists say, that fear causeth gods amongst men, serveth to overthrow their damnable opinion. Chap. 97. ASER. The wicked may flatter themselves, and labour as much as they list to rock themselves asleep in their impieties and horrible vices, yet they cannot prevail so much, but they have continually a warning-piece ringing in their ear, and an Apparitor rapping at their door without ceasing, so that they cannot always sleep at their ease. For that is ever true, Gen. 4. 6, 7. which the Lord said to Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance cast down? If thou do well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou dost not well, sin lieth at the door. Which is as much as if he had said, that if Cain doth as Abel doth, he shall be received of GOD with that honour that he is received, and shall go with his face looking upward: but if he do otherwise, his sin will awake him well enough, and not suffer him to have any rest in his conscience, but will so press him, A similitude. that he shall be as a man that lieth always in a portal, or near unto it, who can take no rest for any long season, by reason of comers and goers that go in and out by it, or that knock at it every hour to have it opened. Sorrow ever followeth sin. And therefore it is commonly said, that Repentance ever followeth after sin. For, howsoever it may be slow in coming, yet it cannot be without great heaviness and sorrow: which no unjust person can eschew, but he shallbe sure to feel it very sharp and vehement. For he must needs feel and have experience in himself, that of evil nothing but evil can befall him in the end, and that when he feeleth what evil sin bringeth unto him, he cannot but be grieved that he hath committed it, and wish that the thing were to do again. Therefore every wicked man feeleth himself accused and condemned by his own conscience, which is a certain testimony unto him, that there is a God and a judge, whose judgement he cannot avoid. But before we proceed in this discourse, it shallbe good for us to know what conscience is properly. We are then to know, that although sin hath greatly troubled the mind which God hath given us, by the darkness of error and ignorance wherewith it is filled, yet it could not so wholly blind it, but still there remained in it some sparkles of that light of the knowledge of God, and of good and evil, which is naturally in men, and which is borne with them. This remnant that yet remaineth is commonly called by the Divines Synteresis: which is taken from a Greek word, What conscience is. that signifieth as much as if we should say, Preservation, whereby that remnant of the light and law of nature that remaineth in us, is still preserved and kept in our soul after sin. And so this word Synteresis signifieth that knowledge of the Law which is borne with us: Why it is called Synteresis. and it is so called, because it always keepeth in man, yea in the most wicked that can be, an advertisement or instruction, which telleth him what is right and just, and that there is a judgement of God. Some distinguish between Synteresis and Conscience, others take them both for one and the same thing, calling this Synteresis, the very conscience itself: whereas others say it is the natural judgement, and some the light of our mind and spirit. The Philosophers, who had some obscure knowledge, said, that there are certain Anticipations in our nature, by which they meant the selfsame thing in a manner. For by these Anticipations they understand those principles of knowledge and natural informations, which being as it were rules, we have not learned of any Masters, neither by use or experience, but we have drawn and received them from nature, whom God hath appointed in this respect to be our mistress. For this cause the Philosophers used this word Anticipation, Of the Philosopher's Anticipations. or some other of the same signification in the language wherein they wrote, before we receive these natural rules from nature, as from our mother, before we receive any other, either by learning of our masters, by use, or by study. For to Anticipate, signifieth as much as to prevent and to take before. It is true, that these rules of nature are in greater number, and more certain, in some then in others: and so are polished and increased more by study, by use, by experience, and by exercise. Now by what name soever this light of our mind, and this natural censure is called, by which we judge what is right and just, or otherwise, sure it is, that of it own nature it is always carried to that which is true & good. And from hence cometh the approbation of virtues, & dislike of vices, from which also the laws and commandments of men touching manners do afterwards flow, & so the conscience that is within every one, to the end it may argue, reprove, and condemn him for his own faults. So that there is no man but he hath a judge within himself, except he be altogether deprived of sense and human understanding, and so being turned into a brute beast, committeth all uncleanness even with greediness, as S. Paul speaketh to the Ephesians. Ephes. 4. 19 And although some men that are most forsaken of God fall sometimes into this senselessness, yet it continueth not always with them, but God afterwards rouseth them up well enough, & causeth them to apprehend & feel the rigour of his judgements. For although nature were so put out & smothered in them, that no sparkle of natural light to rectify their judgement, appeared in them, nor yet any flame of God's wrath, which burneth the hart that is turned aside from him, yet he hath other means to kindle the fame again and to set it on flaming, even after such a manner, Atheists compared to drunkards and mad folks. that it amasseth them, as if it thundered down upon them. Therefore it fareth with them as it doth with drunkards & frantic persons, who know not whether they have any soul or sense, any mind or conscience, so long as they are drunk & out of their wits, until such time as they have slept their full, & are restored again to their right wits. So that howsoever this word Conscience is used, it is properly a judgement that is in our mind, whereby we approve that which is well done, & reprove the contrary. According then as our judgement is upright and sound, or weak & corrupted, good or evil, so also have we our conscience either more right or more crooked. A sit similitude. But as it cannot otherwise be, but that they who have eyes see the light, although they will not see it, or say they do not see it: so it cannot be but that the eyes of the mind beholdeth the natural light that is in it, and those things that are discovered unto it thereby, seeing it proceedeth from God, who is the fountain of all light, and who will never suffer it to be so clean extinguished in man, but that still there remaineth sufficient to condemn him withal. The wicked always condemn themselves. Therefore the very Heathen could say, that a wicked person could never be absolved by himself, nor yet escape and flee from his own judgement and condemnation, he being judge of himself. So that although the wicked and unjust, oftentimes escape the judgement of men, yet they can never save themselves from their own judgement, which their conscience always executeth after the perfection of their process. For it exerciseth four offices against them. Four offices of the conscience. The first is, the office of an Accuser: the second, of a witness, & so it is as good as a thousand, as we use to speak: the third, of a judge, the fourth, of an executioner and hangman. For seeing the judgement of the conscience is ordained and established by God from heaven, in that which is well done there always followeth to it, tranquility, rest, and joy of heart: and in that which is wickedly done, dolour and torment, which punisheth the offence & taketh vengeance of him that hath committed it. The more wicked a man is, the greater is his fear. Hereof it is that none live in greater fear, than the greatest contemners of God, that are most given over to all kinds of vice and wickedness, and who declare most evidently by their works, that no fear of God or of his judgements holdeth them in. For they live as if they carried death always in their bosom, how good a face soever they set upon the matter outwardly. And because they cast all fear of God far from them, he vouchsafeth them not the honour to give them a heart to fear him as they ought, but he beateth down their pride in such sort, that he causeth them to stand in fear not only of men, of tempests, of thunders and of lightnings, but he terrifieth them also by dreams, and maketh them to tremble at their own fancies, yea they quake oftentimes at flies, and mice, and such contemptible things: but yet so as this fear cometh from a higher cause. For it is sent of God, who thus derideth his adversaries, making himself terrible in his creatures to them that know him not, neither fear him as their Creator and the Creator of those his creatures. The Deity proved by that fear which is naturally in men. I say then, that although we had no other testimony in us of any God, or of any divinity and divine nature, and so consequently of his judgement in a second life, yet this aught to suffice us, that cometh from fear, which is a natural perturbation in man, as we have heard. For whosoever feareth, declareth plainly thereby that there must of necessity be some power above him that is able to hurt him. For he that is assuredly persuaded that nothing can hurt him, is void of fear. Now there is no human power, or creature whatsoever it be, that is able to deliver men from all fear, no not the greatest Emperors, Kings, and Princes themselves, who are most feared and redoubted, and who cause all men to tremble under them, being as it were terrestrial gods amongst other men. The greatest persons live in most fear. Nay these men themselves are so far from being delivered from all fear and terror, that very seldom any live in greater fear than they do, as they declare plainly in that they must always have a great guard of men about them, and yet can not ever avoid those dangers which they fear. For it often cometh to pass, that they are slain, either by poison, or sword, or by some other kind of violent death, and that by such as should have kept them, or whom they trusted most, as is to be seen by daily experience. But albeit there were no other fear then the fear of death, which is commonly greatest in the wicked, and which they can not finally avoid, yet they can not but live always in fear. And living so, they must acknowledge will they nill they, that there is some other power greater than their own, which causeth them to fear, and before which they must one day appear. For if it were otherwise, why should they fear? Now whilst we seek for this power, we must of necessity come to one sovereign power, under which all other principalities are ranged, and which hath no other above itself. And being come thereunto, we must withal conclude, that this power can not be human, but must needs be divine, and so consequently eternal and infinite: or at leastwise they must confess, that they cannot comprehend this power. The Atheists proverb, that fear made gods, turned against themselves. This being so, I think we may fight against the Atheists with the same reason whereby they would persuade themselves, that there is neither God nor Divinity, but only in the opinion and fantasy of men: and that their fear, unto which they are always subject, hath put this opinion of God into their heads. Therefore they allege that which a Heathen Poet said, agreeable to this opinion of the Epicures, namely, that fear was the first that made Gods in the world. For men being possessed therewith, and not finding such help amongst all the creatures, as can deliver them from all those dangers which they fear, they must seek for an other without the creatures, which can not but be a divine power, if there be any at all, as in truth there is. Whereunto if Epicures and Atheists will give no credit, I would fain know of them, what is the cause of this terror and fear, which is of such virtue and power in the hearts of all, that no creature whatsoever, being partaker of reason and understanding, can go beyond it, or is able to pluck it wholly out of his heart, and utterly to extinguish it: as every one feeleth by experience in himself, and as these men of whom we speak, confess by their own sayings. Therefore I can hope for no better from them in defence of their impiety, but that they should stir maliciously against the testimonies of their own conscience. We say then that fear is not without a special providence of GOD given to men after an other manner then unto beasts, The difference betwixt the fear in men and in beasts. who in deed have some fear put in them, to the end to keep themselves from hurtful things before they take and use them: but this apprehension of theirs goeth not beyond the evils which may befall them in this life, as that doth in men, which reacheth a great deal further. For they that have committed some horrible crime, can not be without fear although they did it so secretly that no body could come to the knowledge of it, or else were so mighty and powerful, that they stood not in awe of any human power whatsoever. Now if they that have not this authority and assurance should reply upon me, that they are afraid lest men should come to the knowledge of the fact committed by them & so they should be punished, I demand of them from whence this fear cometh, but from an apprehension which (will they, nill they) is in them, and proceedeth from a certain sense and feeling of nature, which causeth them to fear that their offence shallbe discovered by some other means then human? As if nature testified unto them, that there is some divine providence and vengeance, which watcheth over offences, and discloseth them how secret soever they are, and causeth them to be punished. As experience teacheth in many, whose secret crimes have been discovered by wonderful and incredible means, so that all men are astonished at it, and are constrained to confess, that there is a divine justice, which will not suffer horrible facts to remain always hid and unpunished. Therefore how secret and close soever they carry the matter, this divine justice rappeth continually at the door of their conscience, as it were an Apparitor or Sergeant, calling them to judgement: so that whether they will or no, they must always live in fear. And this also hath been the cause that hath always induced men (I speak not of Atheists, Strong reasons against Atheists. who are brute beasts & not men) to seek after some power out of their own nature, & above all creatures, to guard and defend them from the evil which they fear. For, notwithstanding their diversity of opinions touching the divine nature, all with one consent from time to time have evermore yielded public & constant testimony, that there is some divine essence and power, that can help or hurt them. Whereupon it followeth, that they can not be without fear of it, or else not without some hope, that by the help thereof they shallbe kept from the evil which they fear, & obtain that good which they desire. Wherefore if Epicures and Atheists say, that fear was the first shop in which the gods were forged and made in the world, I will take their saying against themselves. For hereby they are compelled at least to confess, Fear is a natural testimony of a divine essence. that fear hath constrained men from time to time to seek after some god: and that the same is a public testimony of nature, which hath caused them to lift up the eyes of their mind beyond the reach of brute beasts, & forced them to think that there is some divine power and nature. And by the same reason also they may learn, that this is no light fancy & vain opinion entered into the brain of man, but a natural, firm, and constant notion and knowledge, which no age of man could ever abolish, nor any thing else in the world. Yea this hath been daily confirmed in them more and more, and shallbe continually, notwithstanding these swinish Epicures grunt in their sties, & these dogged Atheists bark against God and his providence, against his judgement & the immortality of souls, which is the principal foundation of religion, and the establishment and preservation of human society. Now then after so great a multitude of strong arguments & powerful testimonies, which like a mighty army fight in battle array to maintain the truth of the soul's immortality, who can doubt there of in any wise? Let them that uphold the contrary bring forth their arguments & testimonies against ours, & place them in the front of the battle, as it were army against army, that all may know on which side not only the number, but the strength also is the greatest. For the greatness of the number would do small good, unless strength also were joined thereunto. For we must not so much reckon as weigh the sentences, nor consider so much how many men affirm a thing, as what manner of persons they are, & of what weight their testimony is, as also what they affirm, & with what reasons. If we fall into this consideration, I doubt not but that every way the advantage will be on our side for the truth: namely, in regard of multitude, authority, nature, reason, and which is more, the testimony of God, who alone is sufficient. Now to the end that this may be well known unto us, let us hear, AMANA, the best arguments that our adversaries can bring for the ground of their error. Whether Epicures and Atheists be reasonable beasts yea or no, and what reasons they bring to overthrow the immortality of the soul: of the false opinion of Pliny touching the same, and of his frivolous and brutish reasons to this purpose: of the brutish conclusion, unbeseeming the whole race of mankind, which he maketh of this matter, and of the judgement of God upon him. Chap. 98. AMANA. Many men, by reason of their ignorance in the Latin tongue, What this word Animal signifieth. think that Animal is a beast, whereas it signifieth a living creature, and comprehendeth under it aswell men as beasts, even every creature endued with a living soul. And therefore when they would show the difference that is between men and beasts, they take the contrary species or kind for the whole, & say that a man is a reasonable beast, not considering that they speak contraries. For there is as great difference between a beast and reasonable, as between a man & brutish, or brutishness. Forseeing it is the natural property of every beast of what kind soever it be, to be brutish, it cannot be that any should be reasonable, except peradventure Epicures and Atheists will say that they be such beasts. And indeed they should have wrong offered them, to be reckoned among men, seeing they do voluntarily make themselves brutish. If then they will not confess, that they are beasts altogether uncapable of reason, Atheists are reasonable beasts. I demand of them whether they be reasonable beasts, and whether they will argue this matter whereof we entreat, with reasons or no, seeing they will not rest in the judgement of human reason, and of natural Philosophy, and seeing all the holy Scriptures, holy Doctors, wise Ancients, and most notable personages, seem unto them to be no better than toys and fables. Let us come then to the reasons of these unreasonable beasts without reason. Is there any point in all human Philosophy that is better grounded and laid upon so strong, firm, and well concluding reasons, and that hath more or so many reasons as this, whereof we dispute at this present? How many things do these fellows believe according to natural Philosophy, for which they have not so many nor so evident reasons? And how many things should be doubted of, except so many arguments could be brought for their proof and confirmation, as we have alleged, and as might yet be found out for this matter? Now what can they allege on the contrary side? For if they believe nothing but what they see, and whereof they have experience, I demand of them, how many things there are in human Philosophy where of they are thoroughly resolved, and yet have no experience at all in them, neither can have any certainty, but only as they give credit to such as have written of them, who yet are deceived themselves oftentimes, & so have deceived others? And yet they are not so hardly brought to believe their reasons, as to give credit to them that maintain the immortality of souls, which is a matter of so great consequence and weight. Atheists sitly resembled to Spiders. And as Spiders turn into poison the sweetest liquors they suck, so they maliciously gather the reasons, testimonies and places, not only of Poets, Philosophers, and others, but also of the holy Scriptures, which they think will serve to confirm them daily more and more in their errors, and in their false and wicked opinions, how little likelihood soever they seem to have, and how flenderly soever they make for them. In the mean season they dissemble and make show that they see not all the other reasons that fight directly against them, which being in number infinite, are so clear and so certain, as nothing can be more. There are many of them that have no other reason but their opinion, who can allege no other thing but this, It is not so, or, I believe it not, or, I doubt of it, or, Peradventure it is otherwise. And in truth none of them all in a manner have any reasons of greater show, or that can urge them that have never so little judgement, as we may easily judge by the examination of one of their chief Masters and strong Pillars, I mean Pliny, Pliny's brutish opinion touching the immortality of the soul. by whom we may judge of all the rest. For if he, who is so much esteemed among them, showed himself to be such a gross and blockish beast, and so far from reason in that which he wrote touching this matter, a man may soon guess what can be in the others, who are no body in respect of him, or at leastwise have not gotten so great credit and authority. But let us hear the reasons of this venerable Doctor. First, he derideth all that men have spoken or written of the being of souls after the death of the bodies, accounting all this to be but toys and dreams: and then he propoundeth his resolution, that there remaineth no more of a man after his corporal death, than there was of him before he was conceived and borne. After that he laugheth at the vanity of men in that they are so foolish as at the very time of their death voluntarily to flatter and beguile themselves, in promising to themselves life even after life: some by the immortality of the soul, others by the transfiguration thereof, and a third sort by attributing sense to the dead and by honouring their souls, and making a god of that, which having been a man, is now nothing at all. I marvel not if Pliny mocked at many foolish opinions that were among the Heathen touching this matter, and namely, the fooleries of the Pythagoreans and Platonists, which I doubt not but he meant by the transfiguration of souls. Plato his opinion of the creation of souls. whereof he maketh mention. For Plato was so far from yielding that the soul of man was mortal, that he will not confess the soul of beasts to be so, because according to his opinion of the creation of souls, he thinketh that there is but one kind of soul for all sorts of bodies that have life, and that souls pass and repass from one to an other, as we heard, until that being well purged they come to the place of the blessed. Likewise this Author of the natural history had reason to deride the folly and vanity of men in deifying them that died, and in making them immortal gods, that had been before but mortal men. But from these fond opinions he had no reason to conclude, that if souls did not pass and repass from bodies to bodies, and if men could not become gods after their death, therefore they ceased to be men any longer, and nothing remained of them but their ashes, so that their souls also perished as well as their bodies. Pliny's reasons against the immortality of the soul. But what reasons hath he to uphold this conclusion? For the first he allegeth, that men breath not otherwise then beasts do, Plin. lib. 7. ca 55. because he seethe nothing of the soul of either of them, and goeth no further than to the external senses, as if the soul of men as well as of beasts were nothing else but a breath. Whereby we see what a gross beast he showeth himself to be. We may say the same of him, in that he requireth both the internal and external senses after the death of a man, and the same offices which the soul performed in the body when it dwelled therein, concluding that without these things there could be no good for man after death. Then he taketh this for an other argument, that there are many other things in the world, which live a great deal longer than man doth, and yet we attribute no immortality unto them. After, he demandeth whither man goeth after death, what lodging he hath, and what a multitude of souls there should be in the world from the time it hath been a world, if all they should live that have been: & so concludeth that they should be but as it were so many shadows. We have sufficiently answered all these goodly arguments before, when we spoke of brutish men, who rest only in the witness of their senses, and go no further than beasts do. Besides, what an argument is that for so great a man, to say that we attribute not immortality to many things that outlive men, and therefore why should we rather believe it of men's souls? There are not only many beasts, whose life is longer than the life of men, but also many trees, and therefore we must ask of man, why we should think that he is rather capable of reason, and more excellent than other creatures are, & that he hath a soul of another nature & more noble than they? But I will further urge these arguments against himself, according as we made answer to the complaint of some Philosophers, who accused nature because she had granted longer life to many beasts then to men, seeing it was so necessary for them. For seeing Nature hath endued man with so many goodly gifts and so excellent, wherewith she hath not adorned beasts, certainly she should be a stepmother, and no true mother, or if she were a mother yet she should be a very cruel mother, if she had given longer life to beasts then to men, & had not reserved a better & a longer for them. But this reason would not greatly move Pliny, who is the man himself, that gave these goodly titles to nature, Pliny blasphemed God under the name of Nature. under which name, he blasphemed God whom he knew not. Nevertheless this argument will be of force with them that weigh it aright, considering the providence and goodness of God towards mankind. He addeth further, that this fantastical opinion is entered into men's brains, because they would never fail but be eternal. But this pretended reason is so far from confirming his opinion, that contrariwise it greatly weakeneth the same, in that it agreeth with the argument for the immortality of souls, that was taken from this natural desire which God hath not given to men in vain, as hath been showed unto us by good reasons. Moreover he judgeth it great folly to keep bodies in hope that they shall live and rise again, according to the vain promise of the Philosopher Democritus, Democritus believed the resurrection of bodies. who did not rise again himself. But I marvel not if Pliny spoke so of the resurrection of bodies, seeing he held that opinion of the mortality of souls: & seeing those philosophers who maintained the immortality of souls, did not so much as once dream of the resurrection of bodies, except this Democritus only, at whom I much more wonder, then at all this which Pliny writeth of the mortality of souls. For it seemeth that Democritus could not learn this of reason and of natural philosophy, unless it were so that he builded his doctrine upon the same foundation that he took from his Motes, concerning the matter of which all things are made. For according to this opinion he taught, that all the essences that ever were, should in time have their being again by the meeting together of those matters, of which they had been compounded. Surely a very fond opinion for a Philosopher, so that Pliny may well derde it; although the argument he maketh against him is not strong enough to overthrow his imagination. For he would have had Democritus to have confirmed his opinion by his own resurrection. But his Philosophy did not insinuate so much that it should have been done so quickly, but after the revolution of many Ages, which Pliny should have stayed for before he could have evicted Democritus of his foolish opinion, if he had no better argument to overthrow it. Now if this Philosopher did not lay this ground for his opinion which I have mentioned, I would have thought that he might have understood the same by some speech come to his ears, of the doctrine of the holy patriarchs and of the Hebrews touching this matter, by means of the Egyptians amongst whom those good Fathers long dwelled, because they that wrote the lives of the Philosophers, What Philosophers went into Egypt to learn wisdom. put Democritus in the number of them that descended into Egypt to learn the wisdom of that people, as Pythagoras, Plato, Orpheus, Socrates and Pherecydes with others, did the same. But let us return to Pliny and hear his other reasons such as they be. He accounteth it great folly in men to think, that by death a man may enter into a second life: and thereupon breaketh forth into an exclamation, as if men were out of their wits so to think. But he would have found it no less impossible, that generation should come of corruption, and that of seed, which is but as it were a little slime, a man could be engendered, or a beast, if experience had not taught the fame. And because he hath not seen a soul live after the death of the body, nor a dead man risen again, therefore he concludeth, that there is neither immortality of the soul nor resurrection of the body. But we may call to mind that which was uttered to this purpose, when we spoke of the similitude that is between our first and second birth. I omit that which he saith of the rest and quietness taken away for ever from men that are borne, if that division of the soul separated from the body which some Heathen Philosophers made, should take place, namely, when they so divided it, that the sense of souls remained above, and their shadows beneath among the dead: for all this is but foppery. Nevertheless the argument taken from the common consent of men touching the immortality of souls remaineth still, and is confirmed even by Pliny himself in this place, although peradventure he never thought it. Let us then come to the final conclusion which he maketh of this whole matter. The conclusion of Pliny touching this matter. He calleth it deceit of words, and foolish credulity, whatsoever men speak or believe of their immortality, and accounteth it as a poison that destroyeth the chief good of Nature, which as he sayeth is death, adding further that by this means death shall doubled, or (as some read it) the grief of him that is to die shall be doubled, when he shall think upon that which is to come. For if it be a sweet and pleasant thing to live, to whom can it be pleasant to think that he did once live? Therefore he setteth this down for his last resolution, that it is more easy and certain for every one to believe himself and that whereof he hath experience in himself, then to trust any other: and to fetch his assurance from that which a man was before he was borne. Thus we see how he laboureth to persuade, that no man can be blessed in the life to come, because the chief good thing he can have in nature is taken from him, except he be wholly like to beasts in his death, and except he believe that there remaineth no more of him after death, than there was before his conception and nativity. And to confirm and assure himself in this opinion, he would have every one to fetch an argument and proof hereof from the similitude of that estate in which he was before he was conceived or borne, to compare it with that which followeth his death, that a man may judge of the one by the other. But what reason is in that? For is there the same reason from not being to being, that is from being to not being? We know well how man is come from not being to being, but can we hereby be so assured, that he shall be no more after he hath been, as we know he hath been after a time wherein he was not? And whereas he would have us give more credit to our own experience in our death, then to all that can be said by others, I would demand of him what that is of which we have experience, and whether we ought to conclude, that we die wholly as beasts do, because to the sense of man we see no difference betwixt their deaths and the death of man. It seemeth this is his meaning. But as they of his coat ask who evercame from the dead, to testify that souls are immortal, so we may ask of him, who ever returned from thence, to assure us of that which every one may have experience of in his death, and whether they perceived themselves to be altogether like to beasts after the same. For they can have no more certain testimony of this by their senses, than they have of the other point. Also I would gladly ask of him how he found himself, when he was choked near to the mountain Veswius with smoke, The judgement of God in Pliny's death. and with the smell of brimstone issuing out of the same: and what consolation he found in death, which he sayeth is the greatest good of Nature. Whereby he showed how smally he had profited in the knowledge of God the Creator of Nature, Plin. Nep▪ epist. ad O●●. Ta●. by the contemplation of his works therein. No marvel then if knowing him no better, he called her stepmother and cruel mother, seeing that according to his Philosophy, the greatest good which she bringeth to men, is death: and seeing she never doth them a better turn, then when he bringeth them back again to that estate in which they were before they were conceived or borne into the world. According to which conclusion, a man may well approve of that desperate sentence of theirs who affirmed resolutely, that it were good for men, either never to be borne, or to die presently after their birth. So that the first and chiefest benefit of nature should be, never to be borne: and the second, to be borne before the time, or to be as soon dead as borne. Moreover it should follow by Pliny's Philosophy, The absurd consequents of Pliny's opinion. that nature had made men with such a condition, that they can not but be miserable, if they live after this life, and if death do not wholly destroy them, and if they be not resolutely persuaded of this, to have no hope at all of another life. For that which he sayeth importeth as much. Is not this then a goodly resolution and conclusion of so great a searcher of nature, whereof he hath written the history? With what eyes did he look upon all that which he might have scene? How much differed they from the eyes of beasts? and what profit reaped he by that knowledge which he had more than they? In truth we have in this man a wonderful example of God's judgement upon the learned and wise men of the world, who so vilely abuse that reason, knowledge, and understanding which GOD hath given them. And forasmuch as this dog was permitted to vomit out such horrible blasphemies, both against God and against Nature, and yet received no punishment for the same from man, therefore GOD himself took vengeance of him by smoke, whereby he was choked to death. For seeing he esteemed the soul to be no better than a little wind or breath, he deserved well to lose the same in the midst of smoke and brimstone. But we have spoken enough of him. Now you may, ARAM, tell us some more lies rather than reasons, wherewith Atheists fortify themselves against the truth of this matter we have in hand, and how we ought to consider of the judgements of God upon them. Of them who say, that we can not know by the light of nature but that the soul is mortal: of them that allege a place of Solomon against the immortality of the soul: how we ought to consider of the judgements of God upon Epicures and Atheists: how the absurdities, which follow their doctrine, declare plainly the grossness of it: of the force of those arguments that were produced before for the immortality of the soul. Chap. 99 ARAM. It is a great matter when men judge of things, not according to reason, but according to their affections: because than their ears are closed up against all reasons, as we have the example of the jews, who were the enemies of jesus Christ. For after they had once resolved not to acknowledge him, neither to receive him for the true Anointed of the Lord, but to reject and condemn him with all his doctrine and works, no reason was ever sufficient to remove them from this their purpose. But to confirm them in their obstinacy there needed no great arguments, no not in show, as it appeareth in that difficulty of theirs to believe his resurrection. For neither all these witnesses of which they had so great a number, nor all their doctrine, nor all their holiness, nor all their signs and miracles, were of any force with them in regard of that testimony, which the thievish and murdering soldiers corrupted with money gave them to the contrary, Mat. 28. 12, 13. and that by a loud lie which overthrew itself. Therefore we may easily judge what the mind of man is, when it is corrupted and perverted, and when men suffer themselves to be carried away with their evil and froward affections, so that God doth even blindfold and forsake them. We see many such examples in this matter, which we now handle touching the immortality of the soul. For on the contrary side, what are the strongest reasons, which these doggish Epicures & Atheists, enemies to God, to mankind, and to all nature, against whom we now dispute, can allege for themselves? What would they do if they had as much against us, as we have against them? How would they lift up themselves against those that maintain the contrary, and tread them under their feet? We heard in the former speech the strongest arguments upon which their error leaneth, whereby we may know what a bad foundation it hath. Against them who say that the soul can not be known to be immortal according to nature. Others there are who say, that in the light of faith the soul is immortal, but in the light of nature it is mortal: so that whilst they would seem Philosophers, they show themselves to be ignorant and gross beasts. For there is but one only truth both of nature and of faith, truth never being double, but always one. Therefore if the soul be immortal in the light of faith, it can not be mortal in the light of nature, but only in the darkness thereof. For we see how this small remnant of natural light, that yet remaineth in the corrupt nature of men, sendeth them with one common and public consent to this truth of the immortality of men's souls: so that none, besides those in whom it is as it were utterly put out, and whom God hath by his judgement wholly rejected and cast into a reprobate sense, but acknowledge the same. How then would this light of nature show itself, if it had still continued in integrity? Therefore I demand of these men, what it is which they call natural light, and whether it be not the reason of man: and if it be that reason whereby men differ from beasts, I ask again of them, whether any thing that may be known by arguments and reasons, although they were all gathered together and examined narrowly, hath greater and more evident light of reason then this hath. Nevertheless I agree with them herein, that the light of faith maketh us a great deal more certain of all this matter, than any reason that can be alleged: because that is the light of God's Spirit, which illuminateth the eyes of the mind a great deal more clearly than any natural light can do, as being grounded upon the testimony of God himself. Of them that allege Solomon against the immortality of the soul. Some also there are, who persuade themselves, that Solomon putteth no difference between the soul of men and of beasts, and that he doth not affirm, that one of them is more or less mortal or immortal, Eccles. 3. 18, 19, 20, 21. than the other. I considered in mine heart (saith the Wiseman) the state of the children of men, that God had purged them: yet to see to, they are in themselves as beasts. For the condition of the children of men, and the condition of beasts are even as one condition unto them. As the one dieth, so dieth the other: for they have all one breath, and there is no excellency of man above the beast: for all is vanity. All go to one place, & all was of the dust, and all shall return to the dust. Who knoweth whether the spirit of man ascend upward, and the spirit of the beast descend downward to the earth? But they are greatly deceived that think to defend their impiety by this saying of Solomon. For it is most certain, that his meaning is not to conclude that it is so indeed, as he speaketh in that place: as it appeareth manifestly by his final resolution in the same Book made of the matter he hath in hand, wherein he concludeth touching the body of man, that dust returneth to the earth as it was, Eccles 12. 7. and that the spirit returneth to God that gave it. Now we may well think, that this excellent man, or rather the Spirit of God which spoke by him, would not contradict himself, especially in the very same Book. Wherefore we must rest in the conclusion he maketh therein, in which he giveth us the meaning of all his former speech. And as for the place alleged by us, which, as Epicures and Atheists think, maketh for them, he would give us to understand thereby, what a man may judge of the life and soul both of men and beasts, and of the difference between them, according to that we see and perceive by our corporal senses, and that may be comprehended by the mind and reason of man, if we have no other testimony that looketh beyond this life, in which these dogs and hogs, and all carnal and brutish men stay themselves. For if there remained no more of man after his death then there doth of a beast, both the one and the other would come to one pass. Nay the life of man should be so far from happiness, that it would be a great deal more miserable than that of beasts. So that it should seem to be better for men to pass away the time merrily, and to live like beasts, according to the Philosophy of Epicures. And although they should take this course, yet in the end all would be but vanity, according to salomon's theme, which he handleth in his Book of the Preacher. Therefore being to set down the conclusion of his Book, he saith, Chap. 12. 1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, whiles the evil days come not, nor the years approach, wherein thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them. Now if there were no difference between the soul of men and the soul of beasts, both which the Prophet calleth by the name of Spirit, taking spirit for soul, what profit should men reap by this instruction and exhortation? For what greater benefit could he look for, who from his youth had given over himself to the service of God, and had always remembered him, than he that forgot him and turned himself away from him? Thus ye see how Epicures and Atheists fear not to profane the holy Scriptures, by snatching at some places of them very maliciously, to the end to set some colour upon their damnable opinion against the immortality of the soul. But we see what a goodly bulwark they are able to make, even all one with the rest of the arguments, which we have already heard of the same matter. And although they allege here in defence of their cause, Lucian and Lucretius, two other patriarchs and Patrons beside Pliny, whom they account as principal pillars of their impiety, yet we can hear from them no other arguments worthy to be so much as once thought upon, besides those which we have already handled. The judgement of God upon Lucian and Lu●retius two Arch-Atheists. But we may observe the like judgement of GOD upon them, that was upon Pliny the great searcher of Nature. For Lucian, according as Suidas testifieth, was torn in pieces and eaten of dogs: and Lucretius being mad and frantic slew himself. Euseb. Hier. Crin. de P●●at. For having abused so vilely that good wit and skill, which God had given him, did he not worthily deserve to lose it utterly, and to have less of it then brute beasts? He became so brutish, that he would not acknowledge, that any either GOD or man had brought so great a benefit to the whole race of mankind, or that was for this cause more worthy of greater praise than Epicurus was, The doctrine of Epicurus commended by L●cretius. because by his Philosophy and Doctrine he abolished all divine providence, and so consequently all Divinity and immortality of the soul, all hope of an other life, all religion and conscience, all difference between virtue and vice, between honest and dishonest things, and reduced all nature both Divine and human, into mere brutishness. This beastly fellow thus admiring Epicurus concludeth, that men can not but be wretched and miserable all their life time, so long as they have any opinion of all these things, because they will hold them in continual fear, and so consequently in perpetual torment: but being dispossessed of all such thoughts, and so of all fear of GOD, it will follow thereupon, that they shall have no more conscience to resist or gainsay them, whatsoever they think, speak, or do. And so their conscience shall not torment them with any fear and terror, especially of any judgement of GOD, but will suffer them to be in quiet, and not hinder in any respect their carnal pleasures and brutish affections. Now when they are come to this point, they account themselves happy. Epicures think themselves kings and gods. For than they are all of them, not only as Kings and Princes, but even as it were gods, fearing no other power above themselves, and having no body to hinder their pleasure, but that they may freely follow their own hearts lusts. So that the last and best conclusion of all this Philosophy will be this, that men can not be happy except they become very beasts, and being spoiled of all things wherein they excel them, wax altogether brutish and retain nothing at all of man's nature, but only the outward shape of a man. Therefore we may judge by the examples of these personages of so great skill, and so highly esteemed among men, what man can do by his natural light, if it be not guided by GOD but utterly forsaken of him: seeing those self same men who have been such great inquisitors and admirers of nature, The blasphemy of Atheists. have fallen into such execrable beastliness, and such horrible blasphemies, as in a manner to say, that God or Nature had brought men into the world, only to make them more miserable and more wretched than all other creatures: so that they can find no better happiness and felicity for themselves, then during their life to become like to beasts, or plants or some other insensible creatures: or else after their death to be brought to nothing, as they were before their conception and birth. Is it possible for a man to think of a stranger thing, more against GOD more unworthy mankind, or more injurious to all nature? For the Atheists themselves that reject God, do yet confess if they be Philosophers, that nature doth nothing without cause: or if they confess it not, they have testimonies enough in nature to convince them of it. And yet if their doctrine were true, The absurdities that follow the opinion of the Atheists. God and Nature have done worse in the creation and production of men, then to do some thing without cause. For this were a cause most unworthy of God and of Nature, to create and bring forth men into the word only for this cause and to this end, that they should be more miserable and more wretched than all other creatures: and to make mankind only to behold in him the perfection of all misery and unhappiness, as though God and Nature took pleasure in beholding such cruel pastime, as is the view of man's miseries in such a cursed estate. Wherefore seeing all the doctrine and Philosophy of these dogs bringeth with it so many, so strange, so beastlike, and so horrible absurdities, even once to think of them, being so unbeseeming God, all mankind and whole nature, and so contrary to all the testimonies, which the whole world affordeth unto us in the behalf of God's eternal providence over all his creatures, I think there is no body, except he be as brutish as the Authors and Teachers of such kind of Philosophy and doctrine, but he can easily judge, that it is altogether impossible to be true, or to have any foundation & ground in reason, seeing it confoundeth and overthroweth all reason & all nature. Which causeth me to be so much the more abashed, that there are men found even among Christians, yea a great number, who rather follow the false opinion of these mastiffs, and give greater credit to these sottish and vain arguments which they propound, both against God and all divinity, and against all nature and truth, then to the true sentence of so many virtuous, learned, & holy men, as have been in the world from the beginning, and to the common and public testimony of all mankind, and of all people and nations. But if God hath not spared the very heathen, who so shamefully abused that knowledge, which he gave them of his works in nature, and of the testimonies of his divine nature & providence manifested unto them therein, but punished them with such a horrible judgement, as to deliver them up into are probate sense, & into a worse estate than is that of brute beasts: we are not to marvel if he deal so and more hardly at this day with them that deserve a great deal more than they did, because he hath manifested himself more clearly without all comparison to these men, if they would see and know him: yea we ought to think it more strange if he dealt otherwise. For the more means he affordeth unto men to know him, the greater judgement they deserve when they abuse the same, and labour to blind themselves by their own ingratitude & perverse malice. Of the force of arguments alleged before for the immortality of the soul. As for us, we cannot (God be thanked) doubt in any sort of the immortality of the soul, seeing we see on our side the advantage, every way in defence thereof: namely, multitude, authority, nature & reason, and which is most of all, the testimony of God who alone is sufficient. I doubt not but that some, to whom God hath given more knowledge and greater graces then to us, are able to allege other arguments and reasons for the confirmation of this matter, which we have omitted. For truth is not unprovided, but hath great abundance of all sorts. But we have alleged the chiefest, taken out of the writings of learned men that have written best of this matter, especially of them that in our time have written most Christianly. And although there are other reasons then those which we have set down, yet I think there are enough in our discourses to stop the mouths of all Epicures and Atheists, at leastwise to convince them, if we cannot confound them. For what can they allege against them, that is of any great show or strength? It may easily be judged by their best arguments discoursed upon by us. What will they have more? Do they expect or desire of us, that we should point with the finger at souls when they depart out of bodies that die? Then they should be no souls and invisible spirits, but bodies that may be seen. And yet unless they may behold them coming forth, as they do smoke from the fire, they will not believe that they depart at all from the bodies, or that they have any being at all. Surely I think that these men who would so feign have souls to be mortal, and to be extinguished by death with their bodies, would not believe that they were departed, and that they once lived, their bodies being dead, no not although they had seen them come forth visibly: but would persuade themselves that they were some illusions, and that their eyes had some mist before them: so strong is a lying persuasion in a man, when he will judge of a thing, not according to reason, The sum of this whole book. but according to his affection. Now seeing we are come to the end of our purpose, namely to lay before our eyes as it were a natural history of man, by the consideration of the matter of his body, of the diversity of that matter, and of the form that God hath given it, together with the profit and use both of the one and the other: and also by a description of the parts, powers, virtues and faculties of his soul, thereby to be instructed at large in the nature and immortality thereof, by causing the soul to behold herself in the glass of her marvelous actions, and all to this end that we should know ourselves as it becometh us, there remaineth nothing now but that we should draw out a general instruction from these advertisements and lessons, which God giveth us in the admirable composition of our nature: to the end that hereafter we should become more fit for the contemplation of this divinity, by the consideration of the wonderful works thereof in the heavens and in the earth, of which we desire (if God give us grace hereafter) to discourse. Therefore do thou, ACHITOB, put an end to the cause of our present assembly & meeting, by some goodly discourse upon all these matters of which we have entreated. Of the image of God in the soul of man, and of the image of the world in man's body: of the conjunction that is between God, the Angels, and men: of the sundry degrees of Good that are therein: of those lessons and instructions, which we ought to receive from the wonderful composition and conjunction of the soul and body. Chap. 100 ACHITOB. If we could diligently consider of the natural history of man, which we have prosecuted hitherto, we should find in it a goodly glass, wherein we might behold God who is invisible, making him after a sort visible unto us, and come to the knowledge of him by his works, even as the soul is made as it were visible to us, showing itself unto us by the body wherein it dwelleth, and by those works which it effecteth in the same. The world compared to man's body, and God to his soul. Therefore first let us set before our eyes the whole frame of the world, as it were a great body: then all the parts of it, as the members thereof: and lastly, let us consider God, as the soul of this great body, working in the same, and doing all his works there according to that order which he hath set therein, even as the soul hath his operation in the body of man and in all the members thereof. Thus doing, as we know that there is a soul in the body, and another nature besides that which is corporal, which worketh in the same, as we perceive by the effects of it: so by the works done in this visible world, we may judge that there is another nature that doth them, which being invisible, is some other than this whole frame which we behold, and far more excellent, filling the same, and being in all the parts of it, as the soul is in the body. But whilst we propound to ourselves this glass to look upon, let us beware we fall not into their fond dreams, Against such as say that God is the soul of the world. who both thought and affirmed, that this world was the body of God; and that he was the soul thereof, dwelling in it as the soul of man doth in his body. For if it were so, then should God be mortal and corruptible in regard of his body, so that still some part or other of him should perish, as we see that corporal things daily corrupt. On the other side, God should not be infinite and incomprehensible as he is: for the world doth not comprehend and contain him, but he comprehendeth and containeth the whole world. Wherefore neither is the world God, nor God the world, but the Creator of it, by whom it is and consisteth. And albeit we behold him not with our eyes in his nature and divine essence, yet we must not therefore conclude, as Atheists do, that he is not at all, no more, nay much less, than the soul is, because those works whereby he manifesteth himself in the world, are far greater without comparison, than those which the soul worketh in man's body. Besides that, all the works of the soul are the works of God, The image of God in man's soul. seeing it receiveth from him that life and virtue that is in it. Forasmuch then as the soul is the image of God in man, as his body is the image of all this great world, in which GOD worketh as the soul doth in man's body, let us consider diligently, how God hath distributed the powers, virtues and offices of the soul in the body, and in all the parts of it, as he manifesteth his glory, virtue and power in this visible world in all the parts of the same. For the first, there is agreement herein, that as one only soul is in one body, and is sufficient for all the parts and members thereof: so there is but one God in the world, who is sufficient for all his creatures. Again, if we cannot conceive how the soul is lodged in the body, how it giveth life unto it, displaying all her virtues, and doing all her works therein, but only so far forth as she giveth us instructions and testimonies thereof by those divers effects which we see in every part and member of the body: no marvel then if we cannot behold with the eye, nor comprehend how GOD is every where, filling heaven and earth, and how he displayeth his power and virtue, working in all his creatures, guiding and governing them, and preserving them by his divine providence and virtue. For if we cannot comprehend the creature, or the nature thereof, how shall we comprehend that of the Creator? jesus Christ said to Nicodemus, john 3. 12. If when I tell you earthly things, ye believe not, how should ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things? We may say the like here, that if it be impossible for us thoroughly to know the earth, or the body or soul of man, or the nature and virtue thereof, how shall we know the heavens and spiritual natures, or God and his works? For if it be beyond our reach to discern them in ourselves no not the works of our soul, how shall we comprehend his works in the whole world? Of that conjunction which is between God and his creatures. Notwithstanding, if we can well consider of that conjunction and agreement that is between God and his creatures, with the the disposition of those sundry degrees which every one of them holdeth in this conjunction, even from the highest and most celestial things, that approach nearest to the nature of God, unto those things that are lowest and most terrestrial, then shall we set God as it were present before the eyes of our spirit, and by the contemplation of him wonderfully content all the parts of our soul. Therefore to prosecute this point, let us note, that GOD created and fashioned in his Angels, images of himself that are altogether spiritual, (as indeed himself is all spirit) and not enclosed or shut up in any bodies that are of an earthly and corruptible matter. Besides, it pleased him to make another kind of his image in the nature of man, which should hold the second degree next to the Angelical nature, in which he represented himself more excellently then in any other visible nature and creature, namely in a nature that came nearest to his own, next to that of Angels, and in which the bodily and visible nature was joined unto a spiritual and invisible nature. Now for the better understanding hereof, we will set down a conjunction of three kinds of good things, which are in divers degrees. The first is, Of God, the first & greatest Good. God the creator, who is the greatest of all, and the sovereign good of all his creatures, and is a nature without any quality or accident whatsoever. For all that is in him, is substantial and essential. This Good is such a nature, as hath all his moving of himself, and receiveth it not from any other then from himself, but giveth moving to all creatures according to their nature and measure. And yet all the motions in God are without any change, either of time or place, or howsoever: so that he abideth still immovable, Mal. 3. 6. and may always say, I am the Lord, I change not, as it is in Malachi. For he is ever one. And seeing he is the Original of all moving, he must of necessity, be firm and stable: because otherwise he could not give motion to others, as we have daily experience hereof in ourselves. For if we would move one of our feet, the other must abide steady and firm, and both the one and the other must always have some stay whereby to take their motion. Now because God cannot have stay from any other, he hath it in himself, in that manner which hath been declared already. For as he is always one, so all things are present to him, yea he is every where, by reason that he is eternal and infinite without beginning and without end, judge of all and is judged of none, governor of all, and governed by none. Of spiritual natures, which are the second Good. Secondly, we have those spiritual natures and creatures, which are a great Good, but not the greatest and chiefest Good, which cannot be found but in the Creator. This second Good hath qualities, because all things in it are not substantial. It hath also motion, but receiveth the same from the first Good, of which it dependeth, and then it giveth the same to others. This motion is in time, but without place: and this Good both judgeth and is judged, governeth and is governed. The Angels and human souls are this great Good, and these spiritual natures, which are spirits having all these things. But there is between them that difference before spoken off, namely that Angels are spirits, which were created to live an immortal life, and not to be joined unto any earthly bodies: and that the spirit of men are created to dwell in bodies and to give them life. Therefore I let pass Angels for this time, and purpose to speak only of the spirit of man, which is not immutable as God is, but may receive change of qualities: as we see in that it being created good, became bad, and of evil, may also become good by the grace of God. But no such thing can befall God For he cannot but be good in the highest degree, and the sovereign good of every creature: because goodness is not accidental to him, as it is to a creature, but substantial and essential. And as God is the sovereign mover, who giveth motion to all creatures in this great world: so the soul and spirit of man giveth moving to the whole body of man, who is the little world, and to all the members thereof: neither hath it this motion from any other creature beside itself, as the body receiveth the same from it, The spirit of a man moveth not in place. but only of the Creator. Now although this motion be made in time, yet it is not made by any change of place. For what motion soever there is in the spirit, yet it abideth always in his place, so long as it dwelleth in the body, which it governeth under God the great governor, by whom also it is judged, as itself judgeth the body, and all that is under the same. Lastly followeth the body, which is another Good, but not so great as the spirit. This hath not only quality but quantity also, whereas the spirit hath only quality without quantity. For to speak properly, no nature hath quantity, except it be corporal. Therefore the soul of a great man is not greater than the soul of a little man, Of the body which is the 〈◊〉 Good. in regard of corpulency, because it hath none as the body hath. So that when we say, that a man is of a great spirit, we mean it not in regard of bodily quantity, as when we speak of a great body: but we consider in him the experience of gifts agreeable to his nature, wherewith he is endued above others. And in taking it so, it will often come to pass, that the least bodies shall have the greatest spirits, and the greatest bodies the least spirits. And by the same reason we consider in a little infant, even as soon as he hath received moving in his mother's belly, the selfsame soul that is in all the ages that follow his infancy, until his old-age, and in death itself. But according as those instruments whereby it worketh during life, are fit for their offices, and as afterward when they wax old, they fail of their natural force and virtue: so the soul showeth her powers and wonderful effects in them and by them, continuing still one and the same in substance and nature, as these things have been at large declared unto us. And as for the motion of the body, it is made both in time and in place, and is governed and judged, but itself, neither governeth nor judgeth. Thus we may see, how these two good things, the spirit and the body, of which the one is greater than the other, are united and joined together in man, as if he carried heaven and earth linked together. We may learn also how in this conjunction the spirit occupieth the middle betwixt God and the body, and agreeth with them both. We see also the admirable works of the soul during this conjunction, all which are so many testimonies of the wonderful works of God, and of his providence over all nature. Moreover, we behold a very goodly disposition and excellent order in all the powers and faculties both of soul and body. Let us then make our profit of all these things, The right end of our creation. and of these instructions and lessons which God giveth us in them, to lead us to the principal end for which man was created, namely to know and to honour his Creator. Wherefore we ought chief to consider, that seeing God in the wonderful composition of our nature hath placed the heart between the head and the belly, and the vital virtue of the soul between the animal and the nutritive virtue, and the will between the understanding and the most sensual part that is in us, therefore the heart and will must always look upward and not downward, to the end that they may join themselves to the noblest and most divine part, and not to the basest, most sensual and earthly part. For they are in man's body, as if they were placed between heaven and earth: so that as man holdeth the middle place between Angels and other living creatures, by reason of that communication of nature, which he hath with them both: so fareth it with the heart and the will, between the head and the belly, and between reason with that part which is capable thereof, and the sensual part which is without reason. Man's will must look up to the head, not down to the belly. Wherefore if the will of man be joined with reason, which is celestial and divine, and followeth the same, it will become like unto it, and shallbe able easily to govern the sensual part underneath it, to be mistress over it, and to compel it to obey. But if the Will despise reason and the counsel thereof, and if instead of mounting upward towards the noblest part, it desecendeth to the sensual part, and joineth itself thereunto, then shall the Will be made like to that, and shall serve it in place of commanding it. And by this means the Will shall become altogether brutish, whereas contrariwise it might make the sensual and earthly part as it were celestial and divine, by drawing it with itself, if it would obey reason rather than the affections of the flesh, and if it would look more towards heaven then towards the earth, as men commonly use to do. For as they are in the midst between Angels and beasts, Man is a middle creature between Angels & beasts. if they would look more towards heaven, from whence their souls have their Original, then towards the earth out of which their bodies are taken, they should become celestial and divine, like to the Angels, and finally like to God, who hath created them after his own image. But if instead of beholding the heavens, unto which their faces are lifted, they look down to the earth as brute beasts do, having more care of that then of heaven, they shall become altogether earthy and brutish like beasts. Therefore it standeth every one in hand to bethink himself seriously, which way he aimeth, whither he desireth to come, and whom he had rather resemble, either the angels or beasts. Let us then consider well of our nature, and of that order which God setteth down therein, and follow the same, and beware that we do not pervert it. Let us learn to acknowledge the image of God in us, and to behold his great wisdom therein, as it were in a little world. First let us know by our soul, which is a spiritual and no corporal nature, that God is a spirit and of a spiritual nature, A spirit is not shut up in a place. which is not shut up and enclosed in any place. For neither our spirit hath any abiding in a place as if it were enclosed and shut up therein, notwithstanding that it remaineth in a place as it were, in regard of that conjunction which it hath with the body. Nevertheless, it is not so enclosed therein, but that it is able, not only to range through heaven and earth, and throughout this whole visible world, but even higher and farther, so that the whole world is not of sufficient bigness to contain the same, or to content and satisfy it, but that it will go beyond it. What then shall we think of GOD who hath created it? And how forgetful shall man be of himself, if whereas the whole world is not great enough for his spirit, he content himself with a little angle of the earth, and do after a sort bury himself therein? It is invisible. Likewise, let us know and believe that God is invisible, seeing our soul is so, and cannot be seen with bodily eyes. For it is not painted with any colour, neither hath it any corporal figure, whereby it may be seen and known, which is done only by the acts and deeds of it. Let us not seek then to know the essence and nature of God by the eyes, but only by the spirit. For he cannot be seen by them, but only by the eyes of faith, neither can he be found or conceived by corporal senses. The conjunction of our soul and body is a wonderful work of God. Again, we ought not only to consider, but even to wonder how he hath joined our soul with the body, and distributed the virtue thereof into all the parts and members of the same: and how he doth so excellently knit together and conjoin so many members, so distant one from another, even from the one end unto the other: all which receive life and virtue from the soul according to their nature and office, and are all governed by one and the same spirit. Let us consider then how he would have that part of the soul, which is partaker of reason, to have the principality and dominion over the part in which he hath placed the affections: to the end that the chiefest should command, and the other obey, as himself hath the Lordship and sovereignty over all his creatures, as they that must obey him. Let us not then suffer the spirit to be brought into bondage by the perturbations of the affections, neither let us suffer them to be so lifted up against reason, as to be able to turn the virtue of the soul against it. In like manner, let us remember, how God worketh in our minds, in such sort as that the knowledge of those things which we know first, is not abolished by the understanding of other things we learn after, but they are all kept together very surely in the chief part of the soul, and that in good order, by means of the memory, without confusion one with another, even as if they were written and engraven in a table, or in a pillar of brass. Wherefore we should be very ungrateful and brutish, if any thing in the world cause us to forget God, and if we have not his benefits towards us in perpetual remembrance. FINIS. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉