THE PASSIONS OF THE mind in general.  
Corrected, enlarged, and with sundry new discourses augmented.  
By Thomas Wright.  
With a treatise thereto adjoining of the Clymatericall year, occasioned by the death of Queen ELIZABETH.  Si ignoraste, o pulcherima inter mulieres, egredere, & abi post vestegia gregum, & pasce haedos tuos juxta tabernacula pastorum. Cant. 1. If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth and follow the steps of thy flocks, and feed thy Kids by the tabernacles of Shepherds. Cant. 1. 
LONDON Printed by Valentine Simmes for Walter Burr, and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard at the sign of the Crane. Anno. 1604.   

TO The right Honourable my very good Lord the Earl of Southampton.  
SOme seven years ago (right Honourable) I was requested by diverse worthy Gentlemen, to write briefly some pithy discourse about the passions of the mind: because (as they said) they were things ever in use, and seldom without abuse: they were daily, yea and almost hourly felt no less crafty, then dangerous, much talked of, and as yet never well taught. Their demand seemed to me so reasonable, honest, profitable, and delightful, as I deemed it discourtesy, and incivility, not to condescend to satisfy their suit. A treatise hereupon I penned, but I know not how in the inundation of my crosses it suffered shipwreck with the rest of my writings: and at what time I supposed it had been lying rotting in the bottom of the sea, a favourable gale brought it ashore, where being found (belike by some that liked it well) was taken up, entertained, and dispersed abroad. When I beheld it, I wondered, and could not tell whether to rejoice to see mine aborted infant revived, or fear whether it had been maimed and corrupted: for I doubted it had passed by some hands, which might have caused me speak in a language I never understood. At last I fell a perusing of it, and in deed found, it had not been hardly used, but kindly dealt withal, & what escapes were overslipped, proceeded rather from the uncorrected copy (for of three this was most unpersit) then from any uncivil entertainment. After that the whole impression was dispersed, the Printer made means to have me add what I thought wanting, and to amend that I judged amiss. And so I have augmented this edition with as much more as the first copy contained. The which after I had absolved, it seemed of itself by a connatural sympathy to present itself unto your Honour. For literal labours are usually offered to such personages, with whom they particularly consort: and how could any passions find out a person more proportionate than your Honour? They concern Gentlemen and Noblemen, to guide them in the way of civil conversation: Your Gentry is well known: they appertain to soldiers to stir them up to courage, and magnanimity: your martial prowess are patent at home, and famous abroad. They belong to Magistrates and officers, for discovery and manage of subjects: your place, and evident hopes of further preferment presage, that this part cannot but agree to you. For me thinks as often as I consider your presence about his Majesty, it seemeth to me, with mine eyes to behold an other matchless Parmenio, for trust and fidelity about our invincible Alexander of the North. Wherefore my passions being provided for Courts, Fields, and Senates, find in you united, that they sought for dispersed: for as it is difficile to determine which of them hath chiefest part in you, so it is easy for me to resolve how fit this discourse is for you, which leveleth at all three. I doubt not but I might say to you as Plotinus a famous Philosopher in Rome said to Origen, when he entered into his School to hear him read, who presently at Origens' aspect rubore suffusus, blushing, ceased to speak: Origen 
Porphyr. in vita Plot.  requested him to proceed, Plotinus replied, that it was time for a professor to hold his peace, when his auditors beforehand knew what he intended to teach. You need not learn of me those things, which both by study and practise you have attained unto: yet it is no small comfort for a man to see, either that he knoweth, confirmed, or that he doth, approved. If these silly labours shall content your Honour, I wish no other recompense: for that which liketh you in this kind, I know will not dislike the best: and that which pleaseth the best, by right reason, should be a good inducement, to content all. If these blasted leaves be acceptable to your Lordship, when the fruits are ripe, you shall receive a fatter crop: in the mean time Christ jesus preserve you in his grace, protect you from your enemies, and deliver you from inordinate Passions.  
Your Honour's devoted servant, Thomas Wright.   

THE PREFACE unto the Reader.  
I Have diverse times weighed with myself, whencefrom it should proceed that Italians, and Spaniards, with other inhabitants beyond the Alps, should account ● lemings, Englishmen, Scots, and other Nations, 
Tramontani sem●●●.  dwelling on this side, simple, uncircumspect, unwary, easy to be deceyved, and circumvented by them. And the cause of my doubting was, for that I had perceived, by long experience in Schools, both in Spain, Italy, France, and Flaunders; that lemings, Scots, and Englishmen were ever equal, and rather deeper Scholars, than either Italians or Spaniards, so many for so many: Whereunto we may add the proof of former ages, wherein all the world will confess, that our Nation hath yielded as profound and learned Schoolmen as any Nation under the Sun, in like quantity and proportion. For, what Country in any age did ever represent unto the world, such venerable w●ttes, as England, by yielding our venerable Bede, who, borne in a corner of the world, comprehended the whole world in his boundiesse apprehension & judgement▪ what age ever see before our Alexander de Hales, a Divine more irrefragable in all his doctrine and opinions, the chief master of Schoolmen, before that England sent him into ●rance? In what Country ever appeared such a mirror of learning, of subtility, of brevity, of perspicuity, (in deepest matters, and unto worthy spirits) as when Scotus showed himself in the chair at Oxford? whom, for his worth, some other Countries with no less untruth, than ambition, have challenged for theirs, and would have bereft England of one of the worthies of the world, What might I not say of O cams, of Bacons, of middleton's, in foreign Nations more accounted of, than prized at home, whose doctrine, the best highly esteem, whose wits the wisest admire, and whose opinions innumerable Doctors do follow? Wherefore we may well glory in this, that our Country hath afforded most of the masters, & of the chiefest Wits, which at this time both Scotists, Reals, and Nominals do follow, either in Philosophy, or Divinity. And yet for all this, our Nation is accounted simple and unwise, among diverse others.  
Moreover, let us cast our eyes upon all sorts of Arts and Trades, from the very shoe unto the hat, from the shirt to the cloak, from the kitchen to the Court, and we shall see our Nation as well furnished, as complete, and artificial as any other: and as all travelers can well affirm, far superior to the Spantards, and nothing inferior unto the Italians. I must confess, that in some one or other trade, the Italians surpass us, but they be such, as either England regardeth not at all, or prizeth not very much: but, in such as our Country esteemeth, we may, either equal or prefer ourselves before them. And yet for all this, a hie-minded companion doubted not, within these few years, to call our Nation, uncivil, and barbarous▪ and others, to repute us as simple and unwary. After some consideration and reflection upon ourselves, with reference unto other Nations, I found out three causes, why those which inhabit these Northern Climates, are accounted simple and unwise.  
The first is, a natural inclination to Virtue and honesty, much more palpable and easy to be perceyved in these colder Countries, than in those hotter Climates: this we may prove by common experience, for both Spamards and Italians, if they can have a I lemming, or an Englishman for their servant, if he be alike qualified with those Countrymen, they will prefer him before their own, for fidelity, sincerity and diligence. The very blushing also of our people, showeth a better ground, whereupon Virtue may build, than certain brazen faces, who never change themselves, although they commit, yea, and be deprehended in enormous crimes; for the shame of vice, is a good commencement of Virtue, because it proceedeth from a judgement disliking of evil, which is an apt beginning of good. Wherefore Aristotle calleth shamefastness a virtue, not 
Arist. 3. mora. Nico. cap. 8●  for that it is a true virtue indeed, (for it most of all reigneth in children, who are not capable subjects of moral Virtues) but because it is the seed of Virtue, or a spur to Virtue, or a bridle from vice: or a way, preparation or disposition unto an honest virtuous life. And therefore Plato said that justice & shame fastness were 
Plato in protagor.  the gifts of jupiter. This natural foundation of honesty, other Nations baptise with the Name of Simplicity, which they understand, not in such sort as it resembleth a Virtue, and bordereth upon sincerity and upright dealing, but rather as a vice bending to stupidity, & lack of knowledge. The common sort of Spaniards and Italians, censuring our inclinations, with an erroneous judgement, account that a passion of ignorance, which in very deed, is the first step unto prudence, esteeming them foolishly unwary, whom they ought to have reputed rather virtuously wi●e.  
The second cause is, Education, for prudence and policy are won by experience, experience by practice, practise by conversation, conversation by communication with people, the which in Cities is better attained unto then in Villages, and in Cities of greater commerce and resort, than in Cities of lesser repair. This we try by common consent of all men, who acknowledge the inhabitants of Sea-townes to be more crafty than the rural colonies, and therefore Islanders are judged most crafty of all, yet my meaning is always, caeteris paribus, because, as some Islanders have little trade, so some cities no great resort. The nature of men's wits is such, that one whetteth and polisheth greatly another, for as their faces are various, so their inventions setches, sleights and judgements are divers.  
Wherefore those that have great commerce with men, either they themselves; or else see the various dealings and practices of others, cannot but in time greatly perfit their own judgements and understandings: this we may daily perceyve in our own Country, wherein our Northern and Welshmen, when they come to London, are very simple, and unwary, but afterwards, by conversing a while, and by the experience of other men's behaviours, they become wonderful wise and judicious. The Italians therefore and Spaniards, disdaining greatly to dwell long in the Country, and betaking themselves almost wholly unto Cities, by a continual conversation, even from their youth, become very nimble in the managing all affairs, and consequently, very politic and craeftie. For great Cities (specially Emporiall) afford unto them all sorts of positique prudenc●, either for universal government of the State, or particular regiment of the City, or private economy for a family, or common conversation with men: all which Cities, as open Schools, teach abundantly; villages and towns, either nothing, or very sparingly. The most of our Englishmen contrariwise, either dwell in the Country, or in Cities not so populous, wherein they may enjoy such means, as enable other Nations unto the attainment of w●t▪ po●i●y, and prudence, wherefore this defect of conversation impeacheth greatly the wariness of our Countrymen with other Nations: whereby sundry of our rural Gentlemen, are aswell acquainted with the civil dealing, conversing, and practise of Cities, as many Kockneiss, with the manuring of lands, and affairs of the country. Our English youth also, for most part, are brought up, with too much fear and terror: for either their Parents or Schoolmasters pass the borders of mediocrity in this part: because they either punish them too extremely, or threaten them too severely: whereby th● passions of pusillanimity & fear specially when any matter of moment is to be attempted, so distract their present attention, that they cannot almost possibly upon a sudden consider the circumstances, weigh the matter, and resolve aright: for these restraining Passions witharaw a great part of their soul's consideration. The Italians and Spaniards contrariwise, by bringing up their children with more liberty, enlarge their hearts with boldness and audacity, in such sort, as usually you shall see them at sixteen or seventeen years of age, as bold and audacious as ours at thirty: and contrariwise ours at sixteen or seventeen, drooping with fear and timidity, as if they were so many chickens drawn out of a Well.  
The third cause is, a certain natural complexion and constitution of body, the which in very deed inclineth and bendeth them of hotter Countries more unto craftiness and wariness, than them of colder Climates; This we may perceyve in Italy itself, where the L●mbards are more simple than the Romans, and these not so crafty as the Neapolitans, not these comparable to the Sicilians. The like we find in Spain, where the Biskains are not so subtle as the Castilians, nor these so crafty as the Andalusians. Wherefore, as we prove in beasts, that some, by their natural instinct, are more wil●e than others, as Foxes, Monkeys, and Apes, so we find in men, that some surpass others in aptness to deceyve, and in craftiness to circumvent. And in this we may confess that Spaniards and Italians go before us, for commonly they can better conceal their own Passions, and discover others, than we. Our people, for most part, reveal and disclose themselves very familiarly and easily; the Spaniard and Italian demurreth much, and selleth his secrets and his friendship by drams, you shall converse very long with him, before you shall know what is in him: he will show a countenance of friendship, although he intendeth revenge: he can train his purposes afar off, to undermine where he pleaseth: he will praise where he spiteth, and dispraise where he loveth for a further project: he can observe his times better than we for his plots, and mark fit occasions to effectuate his intent: he can win ground in a man's affection by some small conversation, and after prevail in what he list, when he hath got the advantage. In sine, he can dissemble better his own passions, and use himself therein more circumspectly, than we can do. Wherefore I thought good to try if a little direction would help ●ur Countrymen to counterpoise their native wariness, and open the way, not to become crafty and deceitful, which is vicious, but how to discover other men's passions, and how to behave ourselves when such affections extraordinarily possess us, the which is the chiefest point of prudence, and fittest mean▪ to attain unto religious, civil, & gentlemanlike conversation, which is virtuous. Whereunto especially this discourse of Affections aimeth, albeit for more complete doctrine, I have handled almost all those questions, which concern the Passions in general.  
But for all this, I would not have any man to think that I am of opinion, that all Italians and Spaniards go beyond all Englishmen in subtlety and wariness, for I have found diverse of our Nation, whom I believe, neither Italian, nor Spaniard c●uld overreach, in what negotiation soever: but only I mean that for the most part, those Nations surpass ours in a certain politic craftiness, the which Nature first bred in them, Education permitted, Virtue amendeth, and Art discovereth. The which I have endeavoured first of all (as I think) to draw into form and method, according to the principles of Sciences, hoping that some other will hereby take occasion, either to perfit mine, or to attempt a better; my desire is, the good of my Country; the effect, every man's prudent carriage; the last end, the glory of God; whereunto all our labours must tend, and all our actions be directect: and therefore, to him let these little sparks be consecrated, to kindle the ●ire in his most holy Temple.  
& in tremore. sperando.   

To the ternall, and aeternal Unity.  

FLame of bright love and beauty, thou (whose beams▪  
Reflected here, have so ●●bellished  
All Creatures) finding how my fancy fed  
Upon this earthy circles glimmering gleams,  
Not else reclaimable from those extremes,  
Centrally drewest my heart to one fair head,  
Enameled with brown, blue, white and red;  
So to allure it to those heavenly Reams.  
Purify all the Passions of my Mind,  
And light my understanding: So may I  
Reed forth, and heed what Passions here I find.  
Kindle my will and heave it up, for why  
Even as thy love, like fire, draws up my love,  
Right so my love, like fire, will mount above.    

To the Author.  

IN Picture, they which truly understand,  
Require (besides the likeness of the thing)  
Light, Posture, Height'ning, Shadow, Culloring,  
All which are parts commend the cunning hand;  
And all your Book (when it is thoroughly scanned)  
Will well confess; presenting, limiting,  
Each subtlest Passion, with her source, and spring,  
So bold, as shows your Art you can command.  
But now, your Work is done, if they that view  
The several figures, languish in suspense,  
To judge which Passion's false, and which is true,  
Between the doubtful sway of Reason', and sense;  
'tis not your fault, if they shall sense prefer,  
Being told there, Reason cannot, Sense may err.   
B. I.   

The first Book of the PASSIONS of the MIND: wherein is declared, the essence of Passions.  

The end and profit of this Discourse, wherein are declared the Passions and Affections of our Souls. CHAP. I.  
THERE can be no man, who works by right reason, but when he first intends his work, he aimeth at some end, he levels at some good; viz. either to instruct the wit with doctrine, move the will to virtue, delight the mind with pleasure; or in fine, direct the Reader to do some thing that may be, either commodious to himself, or profitable to the common weal. This Treatise therefore of the Passions of the Mind, cannot but carry with it, a goodly and fair gloss of profit and commodity, not only because it concerneth every man's particular, but also, for that there be few estates or conditions of men, that have not interest in this matter; the Divine, the Philosopher, the curers both of the body and the soul, I mean the Preacher and Physician; the good Christian that attendeth to mortification, and the prudent civil Gentleman that procureth a grateful conversation, may reap some commodity touching their professions; and in sine, every man may, by this, conse to a knowledge of himself, which ought to be preferred before all treasures and riches.  
The Divine herein may first challenge his part, because the inordinate motions of Passions, their preventing of reason, their rebellion to virtue are thorny briers sprung from the infected root of original sin (the which Treatise wholly concerneth Divines, and all the deformed brood thereby engendered:) the Passions likewise augment or diminish the deformity of actual sins, they blind reason, they seduce the will, and therefore are special causes of sin: whereupon among Divines grew that common distinction of sins, that some are of Passion, others proceed from ignorance, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉  others from malice and wilfulness; Finally, Passions are means to help us, and impediments to withdraw us from our end: the Divine therefore, who specially entreateth of our last end, and of the means to achieve it, and difficulties to obtain it, mu●● of necessity extend the sphere of his knowledge to this subject of our Passions; and for this respect of Divines they are 
See Thom. cum Scholasticis in 12 q. 22. & alios in 1. part. ubi de h●mine.  divinely handled.  
The Philosopher, as well natural as mo●●ll, the one for Speculation, the other for Practice, wade most profoundly in the matter of our Passions. The natural 
See the Philosophers in the second and third de Anima.  Philosopher contemplating the natures of men and beasts sensitive souls (for Passions are common to both) consequently enter into discourse about the actions and operations thereof; for, without the knowledge of them it were impossible to attain unto the perfit understanding of either of them. The moral Philosopher, describing manners, inviting to virtue, dissuading from vice, showeth how our inordinate appetites must be bridled with fortitude & temperance, he declareth their natures, their craft & deceit, in what sort of persons they are most vehement, and in whom more moderate; and to be brief, he spendeth well nigh in this disputation, all his moral Philosophy, in teaching how they may be used, or abused.  
The christian Orator (I mean the godly Preacher) perfitly understanding the natures and proprieties of men's passions, questionless may effectuate strange matters in the minds of his Auditors. I remember a Preacher in Italy, who had such power over his Auditors affections, that when it pleased him he could cause them shed abundance of tears, yea and with tears dropping down their che●ks, presently turn their sorrow into laughter; and the reason was, because he himself being extremely passionate, knowing moreover, the Art of moving the affections of those Auditors; and besides that, the most part were women that heard him, (whose passions are most vehement and mutable) therefore he might have persuaded them what he listed. The same commodity may be gathered by all other Orators, as Ambassadors, Lawyers, Magistrates, 
See Aristotle▪ Rhetorikes.  Captains, and whatsoever would persuade a multitude, because, if once they can stir a Passion or Affection in their Hearers, than they have almost half persuaded them, for that the forces of strong Passions, marvelously allure and draw the wit and will to judge and consent unto that they are moved. Many things more might be said concerning this matter, but in all the other Chapters following, except this first, I mean to touch this point very largely.  
As this Treatise affordeth great riches to the Physician of the soul, so it importeth much the Physician of the body, for that there is no Passion very vehement, but that it altars extremely some of the four humours of the body; and all Physicians commonly agree, that among divers other extrinsical causes of diseases, one, and not the least, is, the excess of some inordinate Passion: for although it busieth their brains, as also the natural Philosophers, to explicate the manner how an operation that lodgeth in the soul can alter the body, and move the humours from one place to another, (as for example, recall most of the blood in the face, or other parts, to the heart, as we see by daily experience to chance in fear and anger) yet they consent that it 
See Fracastoriu● libr. de sympathia & lib. 2. de intellectione circa medium.  may proceed from a certain sympathy of nature, a subordination of one part to another, and that the spirits and humours wait upon the Passions, as their Lords and Masters. The Physicians therefore knowing by what Passion the malady was caused, may well infer what humour aboundeth, & consequently what ought to be purged, what remedy to be applied; & after, how it may be prevented.  
If all the aforesaid Professions may challenge each one a part in this Discourse; surely the good Christian, whose life is a warfare upon earth; he, who if he love his soul, killeth it; he, whose study principally standeth 
job 7. 1.  in rooting outvice, and planting of virtue; he, 
Mar. 8. 35.  whose endeavour specially is employed in crucifying old Adam, and in refining the image of Christ: he, who pretendeth to be ruled by reason, and not tyrannised by preposterous affection, this man (I say) may best peruse this matter, he may best meditate it; he may best know where lieth the cave of those Serpents and Basilisks, who suck out the sweet blood of his soul; he may see where the thorn sticketh that stingeth his heart: finally, he may view his domestical enemy, which never 
Matt. 10. 36.  permits him to be quiet, but molesteth in prosperity, dejecteth in adversity; in pleasure makes him dissolute, in sadness desperate, to rage's in anger, to tremble in fear, in hope to faint, in love to languish. These were those temptations of the flesh that S. Paul did punish, 
1. Corint. 9 27  saying; Castigo corpus meum, & in servitutem redigo, I chasten my body, and bring it into servitude: these were those members the same Apostle exhorted us to mortify upon earth, Mortificate membra vestra quae 
Coloss. 3. 5.  sunt super terram. Seeing then how all the life of a spiritual man ought to be employed in the expugnation of these molestfull jebusites, without all doubt it imports him much to know the nature of his enemies, their stratagems, and continual incursions, even unto the gates of the chiefest castle of his soul, I mean the very wit and will.  
Not only the mortified Christian had need to know well his passions, because, by bridling them he wins a great quietness of mind, and enableth himself better to the service of God, but also the civil Gentleman, and prudent Politician, by penetrating the nature and qualities of his affections, by restraining their inordinate motions, winneth a gracious carriage of himself, and rendereth his conversation most grateful to men: for I myself have seen some, Gentlemen by blood, and Noblemen by birth, yet so appassionate in affections, that their company was to most men intolerable: for true is that Solomon said, Vir iracundus provocat 
Prover. 15. 18.  rixas, qui patiens est mitigat suscitatas, An angry man raiseth brawls, but a patiented man appeaseth them after they be raised. And therefore how ungrateful must his company seem, whose passions overrule him? and men had need of an Astrolabe always, to see in what height or elevation his affections are, lest, by casting forth a spark of fire, his gun-powdred mind of a sudden be inflamed. I omit how he may insinuate himself into other men's love and affections, how in travelling in strange countries he may discover, to what passion the people are most inclined; for as I have seen by experience, there is no Nation in Europe that hath not some extraordinary affection, either in pride, anger, lust, inconstancy, gluttony, drunkenness, sloth, or such like passion: much it importeth in good conversation, to know exactly the companies inclination; and his society cannot but be grateful, whose passions are moderate, and behaviour circumspect. I say nothing of Magistrates, who may by this matter understand the inclinations and dispositions of their inferiors and subjects. But finally I will conclude, that this subject I entreat of, comprehendeth the chief object that all the ancient Philosophers aimed at, wherein they placed the most of their felicity, that was, Nosce teipsum, know thyself: the which knowledge principally consisteth of a perfect experience every man hath of himself in particular, and an universal knowledge of men's inclinations in common; the former is helped by the latter, the which knowledge is delivered in this Treatise.   

What we understand by Passions and Affections. CHAP. II.  
THree sorts of actions proceed from men's souls, some are internal and immaterial, as the acts of our wits and wills; others be mere external and material, as the acts of our senses, seeing, hearing, moving, etc. others stand betwixt these two extremes, and border upon them both; the which we may best discover in children, because they lack the use of reason, and are guided by an internal imagination, following nothing else but that pleaseth their senses, even after the same manner as bruit beasts do: for, as we see beasts hate, love, fear and hope, so do children. Those actions then which are common with us, and beasts, we call Passions, and Affections, or pertu●bations of the mind, Motus (saith saint Augustine) animae quos Graeci 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 appellant ex Latinis quidam ut Cicero 3. Tuscul perturbationes dixerunt, alii affectiones, alii affectus, alii expressas passiones vocav runt. The motions of the soul, called of the Greeks' 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, some Latins, as Cicero, called them perturbations, others affections, others affects, others more expressly name them Passions. They are called Passions (although indeed they be acts of the sensitive power, or faculty of our soul, and are defined of Damascene: Motio sensualis appetitivae virtutis, ob boni vel mali 
Damasc. 2 de fide orth. ca 22.  imaginationem: a sensual motion of our appetitive faculty, through imagination of some good or ill thing) because when these affections are stirring in our minds, they altar the humours of our bodies, causing some passion or alteration in them. They are called perturbations, 
Cic. in 3. Tusc.  for that (as afterward shall be declared) they trouble wonderfully the soul, corrupting the judgement, & seducing the will, inducing (for the most part) to vice, and commonly withdrawing from virtue, and therefore some call them maladies, or sores of the soul. They be also named affections, because the soul by them, either affecteth some good, or for the affection of some good, detesteth some ill. These passions than be 
The definition of Passions Zeno apud Cic. 4 Tusc. it● definite. perturbatio ceu 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 aversa a recta ratione contra naturam animi commotio.  certain internal acts or operations of the soul, bordering upon reason and sense, prosecuting some good thing, or flying some ill thing, causing therewithal some alteration in the body.  
Here must be noted, that albeit these passions inhabit the confines both of sense and reason, yet they keep not equal friendship with both; for passions and sense are like two naughty servants, who oft-times bear more love one to an other, than they are obedient to their Master: and the reason of this amity betwixt the passions and sense, I take to be, the greater conformity and likeness betwixt them, than there is betwixt passions and reason: for passions are drowned in corporal organs and instruments, aswell as sense; reason dependeth of no corporal subject, but as a Princess in 
Why passions follow rather Sense tha● Reason.  her throne, considereth the state of her kingdom. Passions & sense are determined to one thing, and as soon as they perceyve their object, sense presently receives it, and the passions love or hate it: but reason, after she perceiveth her object, she stands in deliberation, whether it be convenient she should accept it, or refuse it. Besides, sense and passions, as they have had a league 
Cic. ubi supra. Aristotle insinuates 3. Eth. ca 2.  the longer, so their friendship is stronger, for all the time of our infancy and childhood, our senses were jointfriendes in such sort with passions, that whatsoever delighted sense, pleased the passions; and whatsoever was hurtful to the one, was an enemy to the other; and so, by long agreement and familiarity, the passions had so engaged themselves to sense, and with such bonds and seals of sensual habits confirmed their friendship, that as soon as reason came to possession of her kingdom, they began presently to make rebellion; for right reason oftentimes deprived sense of those pleasures he had of long time enjoyed, as by commanding continency, and fasting, which sense most abhorred: then passions repugned, & very often haled her by force, to condescend to that they demanded, which combat and 
Rom. 7. 23.  captivity was well perceived by him, who said, Video aliam legem in membris meis repugnantem legi mentis meae & captivantem me in lege peccati: I see an other law in my members, repugning to the law of my mind, and leading me captive in the law of sin. Whereupon Saint Cyprian said, Cum Avaritia, etc. We must contend 
Cypr. in lib d● mortalitate.  with avarice, with uncleanness, with anger, with ambition: we have a continual and molestfull battle with carnal vices, and worldly enticements.  
Moreover, after that men, by reason, take possession over their souls and bodies, feeling this war so mighty, so continual, so near, so domestical, that either they must consent to do their enemies will, or still be in conflict: and withal, foreseeing by making peace with them, they were to receive great pleasures and delights, the most part of men resolve themselves, never to displease their sense or passions, but to grant them whatsoever they demand; what curiosity the ●ies will see, they yield unto them; what dainty meats the tongue will taste, they never deny it; what savours the nose will smell, they never resist it; what music the ears will hear, they accept it; and finally, whatsoever by importunity, prayer, or suggestion, sensuality requesteth; no sooner to reason the supplication is presented, but the petition is granted. Yet if the matter here were ended, and reason yielded but only to the suits of sensuality, it were without doubt, a great disorder to see the Lord attend so basely upon his servants: but reason once being entered into league with passions and sense, becometh a better friend to sensuality than the passions were before: for reason straightways inventeth ten thousand sorts of new delights, which the passions never could have imagined. And therefore if you ask now, who procured such exquisite arts of Cookery, so many sauces, so many broths, so many dishes? No better answer can be given, than Reason, to please sensuality: who found first such gorgeous attire, such variety of garments, such decking, trimming, and adorning of the body, that Tailors must every year learn a new trade? but Reason to please sensuality: who devised such stately Palaces, such delicious gardens, such precious canopies, and embroidered beds? but Reason to feed sensuality. In fine, discourse over all arts and occupations, and you shall find men labouring night and day, spending their wit and reason to excogitate some new invention to delight our sensuality: In such sort, as a religious man once lamenting this ignominious industry of reason, employed in the service of sense, wished with all his heart, that godly men were but half so industrious to please God, as worldly men to please their inordinate appetites. By this we may gather how passions stand so confined with sense and reason, that for the friendship they bear to the one, they draw the other to be their mate and companion.   

Of Self-love 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Amor proprius. CHAP. III.  
ALthough in the precedent Chapter we touched, in part, the root from whence did spring those spiny branches of briarie passions, that was the league and confederacy made with senses; yet for more exact intelligence of their nature, or rather nativity, I thought good to entreat of self-love the nurse, mother, or rather stepdame of all inordinate affections.  
God, the author of nature, & imparter of all goodness hath printed in every creature, according to his divine providence, an inclination, faculty, or power to conserve itself, procure what it needeth, to resist & impugn whatsoever hindereth it of that appertaineth unto his good and conservation. So we see fire continually ascendeth upward, because the coldness of the water, earth, and air much impeacheth the virtue of his heat: heavy substances descend to their centre for their preservation: the hare flieth from the hounds: the partridge hideth herself from the talent of the hawk; and in fine, God hath enabled every thing to eschew his enemy, and enjoy his friend. Whereupon grew that protrite distinction of a triple appetite, natural, sensitive, and reasonable: the first we find in elements and plants, the second in beasts and men; the third in men and angels: the first, Philosophers call, a natural inclination: the second, a sensitive appetite: the third, a reasonable or voluntary affection: nevertheless the natural inclinations of inanimate creatures, and the sensitive appetites of living things, descent in some points; because they with one motion eschew their contraries, procure their own good, and obtain that they need; as for example, the fire by the same motion ascendeth to heaven, getteth his place, and flieth from earth and water, as contraries: the boiling water set from the fire, cooleth itself, and withal, expelleth the unnatural heat. Men and beasts with one appetite prosecute the good they desire, and with an other they sly the evil they abhor: as for example, with one appetite a man desires good wine, and with another detesteth ill wine. another difference (besides) there is, because men and beasts, in their appetites, have a certain pleasure and delectation, pain or grief, the which affections can not be found in any inanimate creatures. This delight or pain God imparted unto us, that we might thereby be stirred up to attempt those actions which were necessary for us, or fly those inconveniences or harms which might annoy us: for who would attend to eating or drinking, to the act of generation, if Nature had not joined thereunto some delectation? A pregnant proof of this may be seen in sick men, who having lost their appetites, loath nothing so much as meat.  
Hear we may begin, to discover the coasts of Self-love, for God having so bountifully granted us means to provide for such things as were needful, and to avoid such things as were harmful, adjoining pleasure to the one, and pain to the other: whereupon ensued, that having a reasonable soul, the which, like an Empress was to govern the body, direct the senses, guide the passions as subjects and vassals, by the square of prudence, and rule of reason, the inferior parts were bound to yield homage, and obey. Then Self-love upstarts, and for the affinity with sense, for the causes alleged in the precedent chapter, will in no case obey reason, but alured with the bait of pleasure and sensuality, proclaimeth wars and rebellion against prudence, against the love of GOD; in so much this tyrant prevaileth, that if reason command a temperate diet, she will have exquisite and superfluous dishes: if reason will be contented with a mean & decent attire, she will have gorgeous, and above her state and condition: In sum, from this infected love, sprung all the evils, wellnigh, that pester the world, the which Saint Augustine 
Aug. lib. 22. deciv. cap. 2●. With saint Augustine consenteth Plato 5. de legibus, And Arist. 9 Eth. c. 8.  doth gather together, yet leaveth out many, Mordaces cur●, etc. griping cares, perturbations, moans, fears, mad joys, dissensions, strifes, wars, stratagems, angers, enmities, falsehood, flattery, theft, rapine, and a number more which there he reckoneth; and I, to avoid tediousness, omit. Yet by this may also be understood that famous distinction, more practised than known of many, I mean of two loves, the one, that buildeth the city of jerusalem, the other, the city of Babylon; 
Aug, super psal. 64.  that is, the love of God buildeth the city of the predestinate; Self-love the city of the reprobate, that repaireth the ruins of Angels, this filleth the infernal dens with Devils: for charity, and the love of God, being the base and foundation of all goodness, without which all virtues are dead, and not availing to life everlasting, rendereth a spiritual life, animating the just to serve God, fly vice, follow virtue; with which virtues and good works, God's church is replenished, and Satan's synagogue emptied.  
Contrariwise, Self-love following inordinate affections, enticeth the citizens of jerusalem, to prosecute pleasures, unbridle their senses, enjoy the roses till they flourish, not to let whither the Mayie flowers of their flesh, haileth the poor souls from the liberty of jerusalem, to the captivity of Babylon, thereby casting the children of God into the thraldom of Satan. By this it appeareth, how God gave every man an inclination to love himself; yet subordinated to reason: and how, by the pleasure of sensuality, it is grown to such a head, that rather it ruleth reason, than reason ruleth it. Self-love then may be defined, an inordinate inclination of the soul, affecting too much the pleasures of the body against the prescript of right reason: this may well be called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, old Adam, the law of the flesh, sensuality, the enemy of God, the spring of vice, the root of impiety, the bane of godly conversation, the object of mortification, the sink of sin, ever craving, never consent, tyrannising over the greatest, and overthrowing the least.   

How the Passions may be well directed and made profitable. CHAP. III.  
IT hath been declared (I think) sufficiently, how most men inordinately follow the unbridled appetite of their sensual passions; yet no doubt but they may, by virtue be guided, and many good men so moderate and mortify them, that they rather serve them for instruments of virtue, than foments of vice, and as an occasion of victory, than a cause of foil: For Christ our Saviour, in whom neither sin, nor inordinate affection could fall, no doubt, was subject to these passions, Tristis est anima 
Matth. 26. Luke 22. Mark 14.  mea, saith he, usque ad mortem, My soul is sad even until death: And, Coepit pavere & toedere, He began to be afraid and heavy. Fear and heaviness, no doubt, are passions of the mind: yet, because in Christ they were prevented with reason, and guided by virtue, neither alluring him to sin, nor engendering vicious 
Hieron. ep. 22. ad Eustoch. quem sequuntur scolastici. Psalm 4. Philip. 2.  habits: therefore of Divines, they rather were called propassions, than passions. Moreover, the Scriptures exhort us to these passions, Irascimini, & nolite peccare, Be angry, and sin not. Cum metu & tremore salutem operamini, with fear & trembling work your salvation: And therefore it were blasphemous to say, that absolutely all passions were ill, for so the Scriptures should exhort us to ill. The reason also commonly allowed of Philosophers and Divines, most pregnantly proveth this verity: for if the motions of our wills be virtuous, directed with the square of God's law, and prudence, if the inferior appetite or passions obey and concur with the will, then with much more ease, pleasure, and delight, virtuous actions are accomplished & performed. Yea, oftentimes they take away the molestations and tediousness that occur in the practice of good works. For example, often in prayer men feel arridity, loathsomeness, and pain; yet if the sensible appetite get a little delight therein, if Cor & caro exultant in Deum, that is, our hearts and flesh rejoice in God, than pain is turned into pleasure, and a molesting service into a delightful obsequy. Hereupon the Philosophers and Fathers perceiving what commodities these passions afforded to a virtuous soul, with diverse similitudes declared their service: Some say, they were 
Cic. 3. Tusc.  sparks of fire apt to kindle virtue; others, that they 
Basil. hom. count ir●sc. Basil. de virgi●●tate.  were soldiers, armed to attend their captain: They be like water, saith Basil, that sustaineth oil above, that it may swim purely, and not be infected with earth: others compare them with horses which draw a coach; 
Lactant. lib. 6. c. 17.  so the passions draw the soul to the fruition of her virtuous objects. Cicero in 4 Tusc●lan▪ calleth anger, cotem, the whetstone of fortitude. And indeed me thinks the passions of our mind, are not unlike the four humours of our bodies, whereto Cicero well compares them in the aforesaid Book: for if blood, phlegm, choler, or melancholy exceed the due proportion required to the constitution and health of our bodies, presently we fall into some disease: even so, if the passions of the Mind be not moderated according to reason (and that temperature virtue requireth) immediately the soul is molested with some malady. But if the humours be kept in a due proportion; they are the preservatives of health, and perhaps, health itself.  
By this Discourse may be gathered, that Passions, are not only, not wholly to be extinguished (as the Stoics seemed to affirm) but sometimes to be moved, and stirred up for the service of virtue, as learnedly Plutarch teacheth: 
Plutarch▪ in libro de virt●. a●●r.  for mercy and compassion will move us often to pity, as it did job, Quia ab infantia mea mecum crevit miseratio, Compassion grew with me from my infancy, and it came with me out of my mother's womb: therefore he declareth what succour he gave to the poor, job 31. 18. Ire, and indignation will prick forward the friends of God, to take his quarrel in hand, and revenge him of his enemies. So Christ, moved with zeal (which is a passion of love, bordering upon anger) cast the buyers and sellers out of the Temple of jerusalem, because, Zelus domus tuae commedit me, the 
john 2.  zeal of thy house did eat me. The passion of shamefastness bridleth us of many lose affections, which would otherwise be ranging abroad. The appetite of honour, which followeth, yea and is due unto virtue, encourageth often noble spirits to attempt most dangerous exploits for the benefit of their countries: fear 
Eccle. 1. 27. 2. Cor. 7. 9  expelleth sin, sadness bringeth repentance, delight pricketh forward to keep God's commandments: and 
Psal. 118. 32.  to be brief, passions are spurs that stir up sluggish and idle souls, from slothfulness to diligence, from carelessness to consideration. Some questionless they (almost by force) draw to goodness, and others withdraw from vice: For if that many noble Captains had not possessed by nature, such vehement passions of glory and honour, they would never have achieved such excellent victories for the good of the Commonweal. If many rare wits had not been pressed with the same affections, we should never have seen Homer's Poetry, nor Plato's Divinity, nor Aristotle's Philosophy, nor Pliny's History, nor Tully's Eloquence; for Honour they aimed at; and although perhaps they took their aim too high, affecting more glory than their labour deserved; or compleasing themselves more in the opinions and fancies of men, than reason required; yet no doubt, but if they had leveled right, and at no more than their works merited, nor more prized the opinions and honours given by men, than they in very deed had been to be esteemed; without all question, they had obtained more renown, and their passions had been occasions of great good to all their posterity, as now they profit them, although they proceeded from their Author's vanity. I take it, that shamefastness in women restraineth them from many shameful offences, and fear of punishment retaineth from theft, and the remorse of conscience calleth many sinners to the grace of God.  
Hereby we may conclude, that Passions well used, may consist with wisdom against the Stoics; and if they be moderated, to be very serviceable to virtue; if they be abused, and overruled by sin, to be the nursery of vices, and pathway to all wickedness. And as I think, the Stoics were of this opinion, for they said, that fear and heaviness was, Aegritudo quaedam, or, animi 
Cic. 4. Tus●ul.  adversanteratione contractio.   

An explication of the division of our sensitive appetite into Concupiscibile and Irascibile, that is, Coveting and Invading. CHAP. V.  
BEfore we do declare the number of passions that issue out of our souls, it is necessary to premitte a common division of our sensual appetite, found out by experience, allowed of by Philosophers, and 
Arist. lib. 1. Rhetor. c. 10. Damasc, li. 2. fid●i orthod. cap. 12. Thom. 1●. q. 23. a. 1. & scolastici ibidem.  approved by Divines; that is, in concupiscibile, which in English may be termed, Coveting, Desiring, Wishing; and, irascibile, that is, Anger, Invading, or Impugning, (for so I think it may better be called.) These coveting and invading appetites, are not two faculties or powers of the soul, but one only power and faculty, which hath two inclinations; as we have but one power or faculty of seeing, but two eyes, one power of hearing with two ears; so we have one sensual appetite, with two inclinations; the one to covet, the other to invade.  
In the manner of explicating these two inclinations, both Divines and Philosophers dissent: yet two explications there are, as more common, so more probable, and more conform to reason. The first may be declared after this manner: We see by experience, that beasts sometimes have great facility to prosecute, or obtain those objects they covet; as for example, a horse, the grass which groweth in the pasture where he feedeth, sometimes they have great difficulty; as for the Lion to eat a Bear: sometimes they have great facility to eschew that evil they hate; as a Wolf or a Fox to escape with his prey from a little Cur: other times we prove they have extreme difficulty to avoid it; as a Bull to fly from a Lyon. Now the authors of this explication conclude, that the coveting appetite, inclineth only to the obtaining of those objects which may easily be come by, and to the eschewing of those that may easily be escaped: the invading appetite only inclineth to the possessing of those objects which may hardly be gotten, and hardly escaped.  
This explication (in my opinion) as it is more common, so it is more unture: for who doubteth but many both love and desire (which according to all Doctors are operations of the coveting appetite) diverse things hard to be compassed; as, the two unchaste judges, the chaste Susanna: and in beasts we see they often affect, love, and desire, that they hardly can purchase. It were folly, to think the fox affected, loved, or desired not a goose, because she were surely penned up, hardly to be come by: or the wolf desired not the sheep when she is defended with the shepherds dogs.  
Besides, many be angry (which is a passion of the invading appetite) for things they may easily avoid, as the Lady which child her maid, because the floor of her chamber was defiled with a drop of a candle. Finally, we know God himself to be affected with anger, to whom nothing can be hard or difficile. Many things more might be said concerning this matter; as how the difference, of hardly, or easily obtaining a thing can not cause such diversities of inclinations; for so we might say our seeing might be divided; for some things we see with facility, others with difficulty; some sounds we hear easily, others hardly. Moreover, the difficulty of obtaining an object, rather deterreth a man from procuring it, than inciteth to prosecute it, and therefore consequently it cannot be a cause of distinction. But these arguments, and many more, for brevity's sake I omit, pretending after another manner to explicate this division.  
The other explication, and as easy to be perceived as the precedent, is this. First, as we have insinnuated before, God and Nature gave men and beasts these natural instincts or inclinations, to provide for themselves all those things that are profitable, and to avoid all those things which are damnifiable: and this inclination may be called, concupiscibilis, coveting; yet because that GOD did foresee, that oftentimes there should occur impediments to hinder them from the execution of such inclinations, therefore he gave them an other inclination, to help themselves to overcome or avoid those impediments, and to invade or impugn whatsoever resisteth: for the better execution whereof, he hath armed all beasts, either with force, craft, or slight, to eschew all obstacles that may detain them from those things which they conceive as convenient. Wherefore, to the Bull he hath imparted horns, to the Boar his tusks, to the Lion claws, to the Hare her heels, to the Fox craft, to Men their hands and wit: And for this cause we see the very little children, when any would deprive them of their victuals, for lack of strength to fight, they arm themselves with tears. To this explication it seemeth that the names of Irascibilis and Concupiscibilis more aptly agree, than to the other, because here only Irascibilis invadeth and impugneth, and not affecteth or desireth, as in the other. And thus much concerning this division. How many Passions there are coveting, and how many invading, in the next Chapter shallbe declared.   

The division and number of Passions of the Mind. CHAP. VI  
THomas Aquinas, with the troop of Thomists affirmeth, that all the Passions of our Mind be no more than eleven: Six he placeth in the coveting appetite; and five in the invading: The first six are, love, desire, or concupiscence; delight, or pleasure; and three opposite to these, hatred, abomination, sadness, or pain. The latter five are, hope, and despair, fear, and audacity, the fift is ire. This number may be declared by experience, and approved with reason: the experience is common (wellnigh) in all beasts, but most evident in the wolf, and the sheep: First, the wolf loveth the flesh of the sheep, than he desireth to have it, thirdly, he rejoiceth in his prey when he hath gotten it: Contrariwise, the sheep hateth the wolf, as an evil thing in himself, and thereupon detesteth him, as hurtful to herself; and finally, if the wolf seize upon her, she paineth and grieveth to become his prey: thus we have love, desire, delight, hatred, abomination, grief, or heaviness, the six passions of our coveting appetite.  
But now, put case the Wolf should see the shepherd about his flock, armed with a guard of dogs, than the Wolf fearing the difficulty of purchasing his prey, yet thinking the event, though doubtful, not impossible, than he erecteth himself with the passion of Hope, persuading him the sheep shall be his future 
Hope.  spoil after the conquest: and thereupon contemning the dogs, despising the shepherd, not weighing his hook, crook, stones, or rural instruments of war, with a bold and audacious courage, not regarding 
Boldness.  any danger, he setteth upon the flock; where, in the first assault, presently a mastiff pincheth him by the leg; the injury he imagineth ought not to be tolerated: but immediately inflamed with the passion of Ire, 
Ire.  procureth by all means possible to revenge it: the shepherd protecteth his dog, and basteth the wolf (as his presumption deserved.) The wolf perceiving himself weaker than he imagined, & his enemies stronger than he conceyved, falleth suddenly into the passion of Fear, (as bragger's do, who vaunt much at the beginning, 
Fear.  but quail commonly in the middle of the fray) yet not abandoned of all hope of the victory; therefore he stirreth up himself, and proceedeth forward; but in fine, receyving more blows of the shepherd, more wounds of the dogs, awearied with fight, fearing his life, thinking the enterprise impossible, oppressed with the passion of Desperation, resolveth himself, 
Desperation.  that his heels are a surer defence, than his teeth, and so runneth away. By this example we may collect the other five passions of the invading appetite, hope, boldness or presumption, anger or ire, fear and desperation.  
Aristotle reduceth all passions to pleasure and pain: 
Arist. 2. E●h. cap. 3.  for as we see (saith he) there is no wickedness men will not attempt for pleasures; so we try many to be deterred from the study of virtue, only for the fear of pain. Some other modern Philosophers aiming (almost at the same mark) distinguish in general, all Passions into two members, that is, some consist in prosecuting, procuring, or getting of some good thing profitable unto them: others, in flying, or eschewing some ill thing that might annoy them. I said they aimed, almost both at one mark, because, who prosecuteth any object that conduceth to his nature, receyveth thereby pleasure, as the thirsty desireth drink, and drink affordeth pleasure, so he that shuneth any thing disconvenient to nature, shuneth consequently pain, which concomitateth such disagreeing objects, as a dog that flieth from a stone cast at him. With these two divisions consenteth the third, that all Passions may be distinguished by the dilatation, enlargement, or diffusion of the heart: and the contraction, collection, or compression of the same: for (as afterward shall be declared in all Passions) the heart is dilated or coarct more or less. Many more ways they may be distinguished, but the best, and most easy division I take this to be, these which I will set down, explicated after this manner: First, all our Passions either tend to some good, or fly some evil; if they tend to good, and prosecute it, than the good prosecuted may be considered in three manners; absolutely in itself, and so we have the passion of love; or as of us to be possessed and enjoyed, and so we have the passions of Desire and Hope: and if it be vehement, it encourageth men to attempt many difficulties, & often to be more bold than wise. Thirdly, if the thing desired be present, and possessed, then riseth up the passion of Pleasure and Delight: so that our affections are carried to good things, either absolutely, future, or present; for good things passed, although they often stir in a man, pleasure, yet they are conceyved, after a sort, of presence; either, because they were acceptfull to God then, and so please him yet; or for the present testimony of a good conscience, for the precedent virtuous actions; or finally, for the credit, honour, and glory, which remaineth with those who were witnesses of our good behaviour and godly proceed.  
If our Passions eschew evil, either absolutely, by hatred, or some future evil by fear, or some present evil, by pensiveness and sadness. And unto these six, love, desire, pleasure, hatred, fear and sadness, all ordinate and inordinate Passions may easily be reduced, as in every particular Treatise shall be declared. Nevertheless, I can not but allow that common division of Thomas Aquinas, admitted by scholastical Doctors as very convenient, because in very deed, we prove some notable differences in so many passions; howbeit, not essential, but accidental: yet (in my judgement) this I have betaken me to, aught to be preferred, as more easy to be perceived, more expedient to be declared, and more methodical to be remembered. Besides, if every diversity or change we find in passions, were a sufficient reason to increase their number, without doubt I could add wellnigh eleven more; as, Mercy, Shamefastness, Excandescencie, Envy, Emulation, anxiety, Confidence, Slothfulness, Zelotypia, Exanimation, jactation or Boasting, with many more. And if you answer, that these may be included in those eleven, as inferior Species in their superiors; even so say I, those five that Thomas Aquinas putteth in the invading appetite, I can reduce to those six I have set down as members thereunto belonging.   

The seat, place, and subject of the Passions of the Mind. CHAP. VII.  
FIrst, it cannot be doubted of, but that the passions of our minds work divers effects in our faces; wherefore a Poet said wisely:  O quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu! 
How hard is it, a fault with face not to bewray.  
And to the same effect said Solomon, In fancy prudentis 
Proverb. 17.  lucet sapientia, oculi stultorum in finibus terrae: In the face of a wise man Wisdom shineth: the eyes of fools in the limits of the land. And in another place, Cor hominis immutat faciem, sive in bona, sive in mala: 
Eccles. 13. 26.  The heart of a man changeth his countenance, whether it be in good or evil: for in anger and fear we see men, either extreme pale, or high coloured; in melancholy and sadness, the eyes are heavy; in joy and pleasure, the motions of the eyes are lively and pleasant, according to the old proverb, Cor gaudens exhilerat 
Proverb. ●.  faciem, a rejoicing heart maketh merry the face. And questionless wise men often, thorough the windows of the face, behold the secrets of the heart, according to that saying of Solomon, Quomodo in aquis 
Prou. 27. 1●.  resplendent vultus prospicientium, sic corda hominum manifesta sunt prudentibus: as the faces of those which look into waters shine unto them, so the hearts of men are manifest unto the wise: not that they can exactly understand the hearts which be inscrutable, and only open unto God, but that by conjectures they may aim well at them: for as he which beholdeth his face in the water, doth not discern it exactly, but rather a shadow, than a face; even so he, that by external physiognomy and operations, will divine what lieth hidden in the heart, may rather conceive an image of that affection that doth reign in the mind, than a perfit and resolute knowledge: yet doubtless this small shadow may help much Superiors or Examiner's to trace out diverse matters, and get light of the secrets of men's affections, as Alexander the great, endued with this experience once proved, who after he had won the city of Tarson, belonging to Darius, entering upon a hot summer's day, naked into the river Cydmus, and 
Qu●ntu● Curtius lib. 3.  thereby catching a vehement ague, insomuch that he could not proceed against his enemies, which then were very near: wherefore he resolved himself to take some vehement medicine, that presently should either amend him, or end him. An ancient Physician, which from his youth had always attended upon him, called Philip of Acarnon, promised that he would prepare him such a potion: the matter was concluded; but whilst the Physician prepared the medicine, Parmenio a captain, whom Alexander of all others loved, and trusted most, understanding Alexander's determination, sent him a letter; dissuading him, by all means, not to deal with the potion of Philip, because he understood he was corrupted by Darius, Alexander's enemy, with promise of a thousand talents, and his sister in marriage, that he should kill him: Alexander astonished with these news, was cast into a wonderful perplexity; Shall I adventure, thought he, to drink this medicine? What if it be poison? Shall I not then be accounted the cause of mine own death? Shall I suspect the fidelity of my Physician? Or shall I suffer my enemy to kill me in my bed? While he was in this deliberation, the Physician brought him the potion. When the King saw him, he raised himself upon his elbow, and taking his letter in his left hand, with the other hand he took the cup, and straight supped it off: when he had done so, he delivered the letter to Philip to read, and whilst he was reading, he beheld him continually in the face, supposing that if he had been faulty, some token would have appeared in his countenance: when Philip had read the letter, he showed more tokens of displeasantnesse, than of fear: the which, with the loving words of the Physician, assured Alexander of his servants fidelity, and caused him, not only to reject all fear of death, but also to conceyve an extrarodinary hope of amendment, as indeed not long after it proved. By this example, superiors may learn to conjecture the affections of their subjects minds, by a silent speech pronounced in their very countenances. And this point especially may be observed in women, whose passions may easily be discovered; sor as harlots by the light and wanton motions of their eyes and gestures may quickly be marked, so honest matrons, by their grave and chaste looks, may soon be discerned. To which effect the Suppose said unto his Spouse, Vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, 
Cantic. 4. 9  Thou hast wounded my heart with one of thine eyes: because, thorough the window of her eye, he beheld the chastity of her heart. By this we may know the cause, why children, and epsecially women, cannot abide to look in their fathers, masters, or betters faces, because, even nature itself seemeth to teach them, that thorough their eyes they see their hearts; neither do we hold it for good manners, that the inferior should fix his eyes upon his superiors countenance; and the reason is, because it were presumption for him to attempt the entrance or privy passage into his superiors mind, as contrariwise it is lawful for the superior to attempt the knowledge of his inferior. The Scriptures also teach us, in the face of a harlot, to read the impurity of her heart. Mulieris fornicati● in extollentia oculorum, 
Eccles. 26.  & in palpebris illius agnoscetur. The fornication of a woman shall be known by the lifting up of her eyes, and in her eyebries.  
Hereby also we may perceyve the cause of blushing, for that those that have committed a fault, & are therein deprehended, or at least imagine they are thought to have committed it; presently, if they be, Candidae naturae, that is, of an honest behaviour, and yet not much grounded in virtue, they blush, because nature being afraid▪ lest in the face the fault should be discovered, sendeth the purest blood, to be a defence and succour, the which effect, commonly, is judged to proceed from a good and virtuous nature, because no man can but allow, that it is good to be ashamed of a fault. And thus to conclude, we must confess, that Passions have certain effects in our faces; howbeit some do show them more evidently than others. Yet we may not say, that this face is the root and kore where the Passions reside, but only the rind and leaves, which show the nature and goodness of both the root and the kore.   

That there are Passions in the reasonable soul. CHAP. VIII.  
NOw that we have determined how the Passions must dwell in an other soil than the face; the order of method requireth we should wade deeper into the soul, to view, if in the reasonable part, we might find out their habitation. And to be brief in this point, I think it cannot 
Three causes why there be affections in the will, like those which reside in the sensitive appetite.  be doubted upon, but that there are some affections in the highest and chiefest part of the soul, not unlike to the Passions of the Mind: for to God the Scriptures ascribe love, hate, ire, zeal, who cannot be subject to any sensitive operations: And therefore, as in him they are perfections, and we are commanded, and may imitate him in them, there is no reason why they should be denied unto us, in such sort as they be perfit, and that is principally in the Will.  
Besides, we know most certainly, that our sensitive appetite cannot love, hate, fear, hope, etc. but that by imagination; or our sensitive apprehension we may conceyve; for, Malum amare possumus, incognitum vero amare non possumus: we may love an ill thing, but we cannot love an unknown thing: now experience teacheth us, that men do fear the judgements of God, they love him, and hope in him, they hate sin, and finally, exercise many notable affections, which reason prescribeth, and whereunto the sensitive apprehension ascendeth not: Furthermore, as beneath shall be declared, the sensitive appetite often, yea and (for the most part) traleth and haileth the will to consent and follow her pleasures and delights, even for the same reason that she pretendeth the: as for example, (I would to God it were not true) how oft yieldeth the will to the appetite, in procuring sensual pleasures and pastimes, for no other end, than to pleasure the unpleasable appetites, and lusts of the flesh? this, experience more pregnantly proveth it, than any reason can confirm it: finally, as our wit understandeth whatsoever our senses perceive, even so our will may affect whatsoever out passions do follow: for as the object of the wit is all truth, teall, or apparent, so the object of our will is all goodness indeed, or carrying the gloss thereof. Nevertheless I must confess that these affections which reside in the will, differ much in nature and quality from those that inhabit the inferior parts of the soul, because, these being bred and borne in the highest part of the soul, are immaterial, spiritual, independent of any corporal subject; but those of the sensitive appetite, are material, corporal, and depending upon some bodily instruments, as beneath shall be delivered.   

That the heart isc the peuliar place where that Passions allodge. CHAP. IX.  
NO Philosopher can deny, but that our Passions are certain accidents and qualities, whose immediate subject, house, and lodging is the very faculty and power of the soul, because all vital operations (of which sort Passions are) challenge, by right, that the mother which hatched them, should also sustain them, and harbour them in her own house. But a question may be demanded, and not easily resolved, whether the faculty of our sensitive appetite hath allotted unto it some peculiar part of the body, where she exerciseth her proper functions and operations: for, as we see by experience, the faculty of seeing, the power of hearing, the sense of smelling, tasting, and touching, have assigned unto them diverse corporal instruments, habitations or seats, wherein they see, hear, smell, taste and touch; as eyes, ears, nose, tongue, flesh and sinews: now the question propounded is thus to be understood, whether may there be determined any part of the body, wherein peculiarly the passions of the mind are effected. To which question I answer, that the very seat of all Passions, is the heart, both of men and beasts: diverse reasons move me to this opinion. First, the very common experience, men try daily and hourly in themselves, for who loveth extremely, and feeleth not that passion to dissolve his heart? who rejoiceth, and proveth not his heart dilated? who is moiled with heaviness, or plunged with pain, and perceiveth not his heart to be coarct? whom inflameth ire, and hath not heartburning? By these experiences, we prove in our hearts the working of Passions, and by the noise of their tumult, we understand the work of their presence. The second reason is, because as our sensitive apprehension hath her seat in the brain (for we all prove, that in understanding, we especially bend the force of our soul to the former part thereof) so the affections and passions, in proportionate manner, must have some corporal organ and instrument, and what more convenient than the heart? for, as the brain fitteth best, for the softness and moisture, to receyve the forms and prints of objects for understanding; even so the heart endued with most fiery spirits, fitteth best for affecting. Lastly, for what other reason, in fear and anger become men so pale and wan, but that the blood runneth to the heart, to secure it?  
I saw once in Genoa, a Bandit condemned to death, and going to Execution, to tremble so extraordinarily, that he needed two to support him all the way, and for all that he shivered extremely. Besides, whencefrom proceedeth laughter, dancing, singing, and many such external singes of joy, but (as we say) from a merry heart? therefore joy and fear dwell in the heart. Howbeit, I think this most true, and especially in those passions, which are about objects absent, as love, hatred, hope, flight, ire, and such like; yet I cannot but confess, that when the objects are present, and possessed by sense, than the passions inhabit, not only the heart, but also are stirred up in every part of the body, whereas any sensitive operation is exercised; for if we taste delicate meats, smell musk, or hear music, we perceyve, notonely that the heart is affected, but that also the passion of joy delighteth those parts of our senses: the like we prove in pain and grief, for which cause commonly we say, our teeth ache, our fingers, toes, or legs pain us: pain therefore, and Pleasure, being Passions of the Mind, and evermore felt in that part of the body, where Sense exerciseth her operations: therefore, as touching is dispersed thorough the whole body, even so the Passions of pleasure and pain; for in every part, if it be cherished, it rejoiceth, if be hurt, it paineth.  
Yet supposing the Passions principally reside in the heart, as we perceyve by the concourse of humours thereunto, we may demand two curious questions. The former is, for what end hath Nature given this alteration or flocking of humours to the heart? It seemeth, questionless, for some good end; for God and Nature work not by chance, or without respecting some benefit of the subject.  
To the which question it may be answered; First, 
Why humours flock to the heart in passions.  that the humours concur to help, dispose, and enable the heart to work such operations: for as we prove by experience, if a man sleep with open eyes, although his sight be marvelous excellent, yet he seethe nothing, because in sleep, the purer spirits are recalled into the inner parts of the body, leaving the eyes destitute of spirits, and abandoned of force, which presently in waking return again: even so I conceive, the heart, prepared by nature to digest the blood sent from the liver, yet for diverse respects, not to have the temperature which all Passions require; for love will have heat, and sadness cold, fear constringeth, and pleasure dilateth; the heart therefore which was to be subject to such diversities of Passions, by Nature was deprived of all such contrary dispositions, as the Philosophers say, that Materia prima caret omni forma, quia omnes formas recipere debet. And, although the heart hath more excess of heat than cold, yet a little melancholy blood may quickly change the temperature, and render it more apt for a melancholy Passion; The second reason may be, for that these humours affecting the heart, cause pain or pleasure, thereby inviting Nature, to prosecute the good that pleaseth, and to fly the evil that annoyeth: as in the Commonwealth, Virtue ought to be rewarded with preferment, and vice to be corrected with punishment; even so in this little commonwealth of our bodies, actions conformable to Nature, are repaid with pleasure, and passions disconsorting nature, punished with pain.  
The other question concerneth the efficient cause of these humours, what causeth their motions to the heart; they themselves, as it were, fly unto the heart? or the part where they sojourned, sendeth or expelleth them from her, and so for common refuge they run to the heart? or finally, the heart draweth them unto it? This difficulty requireth an answer, whereby many such like questions may be resolved: as for example, when the meat in our stomachs is sufficiently digested, the chill which there remaineth, prepared to be sent to the liver for a further concoction; doth it ascend thither by itself, as vapours to the head? or doth the stomach expel it? or the liver draw and suck it?  
To this demand I answer, that (in mine opinion) the parts from whence these humours come, use their expulsive virtue, sending the spirits choler, or blood, to serve the heart in such necessity, as the hand lifteth up itself to defend the head: howbeit, I doubt not, but the heart also affected a little with the passion, draweth more humours, & so increaseth. Many more curious objections here I omit, which perhaps would delight the more subtle wits, but hardly of many to be conceived.   

What sort of persons be most passionate. CHAP. X.  
Out of the precedent Chapter we may gather, how that the heart is the seat of our passions, that spirits and humours concur with them: here we may deduce a conclusion most certain and profitable, that according to the disposition of the heart, humours, and body, diverse sorts of persons be subject to diverse sorts of passions, and the same passion affecteth diverse persons in diverse manners: for, as we see fire applied to dry wood, to iron, to flax, and gunpowder, worketh diverse ways; for in wood it kindleth with some difficulty, and with some difficulty is quenched; but in flax soon it kindleth, and quencheth; in iron with great difficulty is it kindled, and with as great extinguished; but in gunpowder it is kindled in a moment, and never can be quenched till the powder be consumed. Some men you shall see, not so soon angry, nor yet soon pleased, and such be commonly fleugmatike persons; others you have, soon angry, soon friended, as those of a sanguine complexion, and therefore commonly they are called good fellows: others be hardly offended, and afterward, with extreme difficulty reconciled, as melancholy men: others are all fiery, and in a moment, at every trifle they are inflamed, and, till their hearts be consumed (almost) with choler, they never cease, except they be revenged. By this we may confirm that old saying to be true, Animi mores corporis temperaturam sequ●ntur, the manners of the soul follow the temperature of the body. And, as in maladies of the body, every wise man feeleth best his own grief; even so, in the diseases of the soul, every one knoweth best his own inclination: nevertheless, as Physicians commonly affirm, how there be certain universal causes which incline our bodies to diverse infirmities; so there are certain general causes, which move our souls to sundry passions. First, young men generally are arrogant, proud, prodigal, incontinent, given to all sorts of pleasure. Their pride proceedeth from lack of experience; for they will vaunt of their strength, beauty, and wits, because they have not yet tried sufficiently, how far they reach, how frail they are; therefore they make more account of them, than in very deed they ought to be esteemed. Their prodigality is caused by confidence they have in their own strength and ability, whereby they think they shall be able to get more; contrariwise, both old men, and women are consecrated to covetousness, because the weakness of their bodies promiseth them no such force, as they may be enabled to gather much more: and therefore you shall find, that old women, where both weakness of sex, and feebleness of body concur together, to be most addicted to avarice.  
Young men's incontinency, boldness, and confidence proceedeth of heat which aboundeth in them, and those, whose complexions are hottest, are most subject to these affections. They extremely affect pleasures, because they spent (as boys) almost the time of growth in getting of habits, alluring and haling to pleasure; for commonly we see all sorts of boys, till they come to the use of reason and discretion, most addicted to pastimes and plays. Besides, heat would be easily extinguished in youth, if they did not moderately exercise it in time of growth, for that the moistness of their bodies, and superfluous humours would otherwise hardly be consumed: And I have seen diverse youths too much bridled, and therefore broken: yet immoderate pastimes inflameth their blood, and causeth agews, and death. Youth also are inconstant, and rarely persist long in one purpose, partly occasioned (as I think) by many alterations of their bodies, which easily will change their minds; and partly helped with the lack of a ripe resolution, and firm judgement, because, as daily they vary in opinions, so daily they altar their determinations.  
Old men are subject to sadness, caused by coldness of blood: to suspect ill, by reason of long experience, wherein they have often been deceived; to lament, to be fastidious, tasty, froward, and never contented, for that ipsa senectus morbus est, Old age is a perpetual sickness: wherefore, as sick men are ever wrining, so old men are never satisfied. They are accustomed to be obstinate in their own opinions, because many of them condemn young men of lack of experience and practise, imagining that learning and wisdom should harbour under a nightcap. Hereupon groweth a certain spirit of contempt, whereby they despise the younger sort: and as travelers, for the most part, relate mountains of marvelles, that they have seen and heard in foreign countries, so old men recount wonders they see and heard in passed ages. Anolde verse also is too well verified in many old men.  

Sordities, irae, nummorum copia mira  
His natura senis tribus est infectu venenis.   

Filth, avarice, and pettish rage,  
These poisons three infect old age.   
Women, by nature, are inclined more to mercy and pity than men, because the tenderness of their complexion moveth them more to compassion. They surpass men also in piety and devotion; or as they acknowledge their weakness, and unableness to resist adversities, or any other injury offered, so they have occasion to recurre unto God, by whose goodness they may be protected. Neither are they so prone to incontinency as men, for lack of heat, and for a native shamefastness: yet four passions greatly possess them; pride, for beauty, or some final spark of wit, 
●ix est mulier it a turpu, aut senio consecta; quae non gaudet & libenter audiat, si dicatur esse pulchra. Hieron. in epist.  which indeed, for lack of wit, they prise more than right reason requireth, but self-love maketh a little to be much esteemed, where no better can be had. Envy also the daughter of pride, for the most part, carrieth the trains of women, whereby they are grieved at their equals good proceeding: Whencefrom springeth an other passion to them too natural, but to many pernicious; for envy causeth them to whet their tongues to kill their neighbours same with detraction. The fourth most protrite and manifest unto the world, is their Inconstancy, according to that ancient verse:  

Quid levius fumo? flamen,  
quid flamine? ventus,  
Quid vento? mulier,  
quid muliere? nihil.   
The which in English may thus be translated:  

What lighter is than smoke? the flame,  
than flame? the wind:  
Then wind? a woman, more  
than her nothing I find.   
This Inconstancy principally springeth from the same root, that the instability of young men issueth from, that is, lack of prudence and judgement in their determinations; for wise men do not resolve themselves very quickly, but with great consideration and deliberation, and therefore they expend well the circumstances and impediments, which may occur and hinder that they resolved to do. But young men and women, for the most part, resolve rashly and perform rarely, because that they concluded without maturity, and in the execution find some impediments; for which of necessity they must miscarry: from this same unpure fountain descends that endless talk daily frequented by women; for in half an hour five men will be weary with conference, and barren in matter, but three women will jangle, and never lack new subjects to discourse upon.  
Many things more might be said of this matter, but I find all books and common places, so stuffed with these discourses, that I thought it superfluous to write any more, especially, for that I know, that women will be easily offended with those that dispraise them, as they will be wonderfully well pleased with those that commend them: yet they must pardon me, if with their good inclinations I show the ill; if I say, commonly they be inclined to such passions, yet every rule admitteth some exception; yea, if they be ill inclined, and refrain those affections, questionless, the greater is their commendation: for as the husbandman deserveth more praise, if he manure well a thorny soil than a fertile field; so that women ought more to be prized, which is worst inclined, and best mortified.  
Therefore to conclude, I am not of Senecaes' opinion, that Mulier amat, aut odit, nihil est tertium, that a woman loveth, or hateth, and nothing is third; for although in some sort of women, I hold it very probable, yet I cannot allow it to be common to all; for, only women that be of a hot complexion, and for the most part, those that be black or brown, I take to be of that constitution, and indeed those have their affections most vehement, and perhaps, little women have a smack thereof, according to our English Proverb:  

Fair and foolish, little and loud,  
Long and lazy, black and proud.  
Fat, and merry, lean, and sad:  
Pale, and pettish, red and bad.   
By which saying we may gather, that howbeit women, commonly, be subject to the aforesaid passions, yet because divers women have sundry complexions, so they be subject to sundry Passions. Even as in like sort, I could say of men; for some are more prone to one Passion than an other, according to the Italian Proverb:  

Se l'huomini piccoli fussero patienti  
Et l'huomini grandi fussero valenti  
Et lirossi leali  
Tutto il mondo sarebbe uquale.   
That is,  

If little men were patiented,  
And great men were valiant,  
And red men were loyal,  
All the world would be equal.   
To this seemeth not unlike an other old saying of theirs.  

From a white Spaniard,  
A black German,  
And a red Italian,  
Liber●nos Domine.   
And we in English.  

To a red man, read thy reed:  
With a brown man break thy bread:  
At a pale man draw thy knife:  
From a black man keep thy wife.   
The which we explicate after this sort.  

The red is wise,  
The brown trusty,  
The pale peevish,  
The black lusty.   
By which ancient Proverbes may be collected the verity of the assertion set down, that diverse complexions are inclined to diverse passions, and in general I take them to be very true, and verified in the most part, for that the same causes which concur to the framing of such a constitution, serve also to the stirring up of such a passion: as for example, a little man having his heat so united and compacted together, and not dispersed into so vast a carcase as the great man, therefore he, by temperature, possesseth more spirits, and by them becometh more nimble, lively, choleric, hasty and impatient.  
Many more discourses I could deliver about this subject, but indeed it requireth a whole book; for I might declare, what Passions they are subject unto, whom Nature monstrously hath signed, what affectious rule Rustics, possess Citizens, tyrannize over Gentlemen; which are most frequented in adversity, and which in prosperity: I might discourse over Flemings, Frenchmen, Spaniards, Italians, Polans, Germans, Scottishmen, Irishmen, Welshmen, and Englishmen, explicating their national inclinations good or bad: but every one of these exacteth a whole Chapter; and perhaps some of them more proud, than wise, would be offended with the truth; for this passion of Pride over-ruleth all the children of Adam: for we see very few will confess their own faults, and then they think their reputation disgraced, when they are singled from the rest, and condemned of some vice: therefore 
See Ler●nu● Lem●ius de complexion lui  they must of force have it, although they will not hear it. Thus I will end this matter, referring the Reader to the next books, where handling the passions in particular, I shall have occasion more in particular to touch this universal subject.   

The manner how Passions are moved. CHAP. XI.  
AS the motions of our Passions are hid from our eyes, so they are hard to be perceived; yet for the speculation of this matter, I think it most necessary, to declare the way and manner of them; the which will give light, not only to all the Discourses following, but also to all the Chapters preceding,: First then, to our imagination cometh, by sense or memory, some object to be known, convenient or disconvenient to Nature, the which being known (for Ignoti nulla cupido) in the imagination which resideth in the former part of the brain, (as we prove) when we imagine any thing, presently the purer spirits flock from the brain, by certain secret channels to the heart, where they pitch at the door, signifying what an object was presented, convenient or disconvenient for it. The heart immediately bendeth, either to prosecute it, or to eschew it: and the better to effect that affection, draweth other humours to help him, and so in pleasure concur great store of pure spirits; in pain and sadness, much melancholy blood, in ire, blood and choler; and not only (as I said) the heart draweth, but also the same soul that informeth the heart residing in other parts, sendeth the humours unto the heart, to perform their service in such a worthy place: In like manner as when we feel hunger (caused by the sucking of the liver and defect of nourishment in the stomach) the same soul which informeth the stomach, resideth in the hand, eyes, and mouth; and in case of hunger, subordinateth them all to serve the stomach, and satisfy the appetite thereof: Even so, in the hunger of the heart, the spleen, the liver, the blood spirits, choler, and melancholy, attend and serve it most diligently.  
By this manifestly appeareth, that we insinnuated in the last Chapter, how the diversities of complexions wonderfully increase or diminish Passions: for, if the imagination be very apprehensive, it sendeth greater store of spirits to the heart, and maketh greater impression: likewise, if the heart be very hot, cold, moist, tender, choleric; sooner, and more vehemently it is stirred to Passions thereunto proportionated; finally, if one abound more with one humour than another, he sendeth more fuel to nourish the Passion, and so it continueth the longer, and the stronger. ⸪    

The second Book wherein are declared four effects of inordinate Passions. ⸫  
AFter the declaration of the four causes of our Passions, formal, material, efficient, and final; the order of method requireth we should entreat of their effects and proprieties. And here I must speak specially of inordinate passions, because, although those which be ordinate, participate in part, some of those effects, yet for that the inordinate principally cause them, therefore I thought good to set them down, as more necessary, and that by them conjecture be made of the rest.  
There be four proprieties consequent to inordinate Passions; blindness of understanding, perversion of will, alteration of humours; and by them, maladies and diseases, and troublesomeness or disquietness of the soul. The first propriety I mean to handle in this Chapter, the other, in the three next following.  

Passions blind the judgement. CHAP. 1.  
WIse men confess, and ignorant men prove, that Passions blind their judgements and reason: for (as Saint Basil said) Quemadmodum oculis turbatis, 
Basil psal etc. 23. 1.  etc. As when the eyes are troubled, we can not perceive exactly the objects of our sight; even so, when the heart is troubled, no man can come by the knowledge of truth: the which similitude Saint Chrysostome declareth more aptly, 
Chrysost. hom. 1. in johan.  Sicat oculorum acies, etc. As the faculty of our eyes, being pure and bright, it laboureth nothing to deprehend the least moths, but if an evil humour descend from the head, or some darkness fall upon the eyes, a dim cloud is cast before the pearls thereof, which permitteth them not to see, even gross blocks: So it befalleth to the soul, when every inordinate affection is purged that might offend her, she seethe all things convenient most aptly, but being troubled with many affections, all that virtue she loseth; neither can she behold any high thing. To the authority of these Fathers, experience agreeth, for I never knew any man troubled with a vehement passion of hatred, ire, or love, who would not bring many reasons to confirm his purpose, although after he had performed his pleasure, and the tempestuous passion was past, he condemned himself, and thought his fact vicious, and his reasons frivolous. The which experience teacheth us, that men (for the most part) are not very good judges in their own causes, specially for the Passion of Love, which blindeth their judgement; for which, Nathan propounded to David his own fault, as another man's case; how the rich man, by force, bereft the poor man of his sheep, having so many of his own, because he knew, that David's judgement, in his own cause, might easily be corrupted: the self-same did the good woman Thecuites to David, for the recalling of Absalon: And indeed the Passions, not unfittely may be compared to green spectacles, which make all things resemble the colour of green; even so, he that loveth, hateth, or by any other passion is vehemently possessed, judgeth all things that occur in favour of that passion, to be good and agreeable with reason, so there scarce can be found any man that hateth, or is angry with an other, but he thinketh his hatred and ire to be most just and reasonable: for in very deed, while the Passion is afloat, the execution and performance thereof, is conformable and very convenient unto our beastly sensual appetite, and therefore all beasts stinged by such passions, presently proceed unto execution, but men having united in the same sensitive soul, reason and discourse, are bound, both by the law of Nature, and commandment of God, diverse times to repress and resist such unreasonable and beastly motions. Yet I know some subtle wit would gladly understand how it cometh to pass, that vehement passions so undermine the judgement, and suborn it to give sentence in favour of them: for, why may not the passion, being in the heart, and inferior part of the soul, permit the higher portion, the tribunal seat of Reason alone, without trouble or molestation; as we see by experience, that fire being dry and hot by nature, although it heateth, yet that hindereth not the drying; so, why may not the wit judge aright, howbeit the passion affecteth a wrong?  
To this objection three reasons may be rendered. The first I have largely delivered in my third Book of the joys of heaven: and in sum, this is the substance. Our soul being of a determinate power and activity, cannot attend exactly to two vehement and intensive operations together: as for example, we cannot attend perfectly to sweet music, perceive dainty smells, or taste delicate meat, all three, or two of them at one time, either for lack of spirits, or in regard of the limited influence of the soul, which cannot impart sufficient activity to such intensive operations: wherefore the soul being possessed of a vehement passion, her force is so exhausted in that action, that if she will continue therein, she can not exactly consider the reasons which may dissuade her from attending or following such affections: the passion therefore which hindereth and stopp●th the eyes of the understanding from the consideration of those means which might move the mind to withdraw itself from that action, may well be said to blind the wit, as he which shutteth another man's eyes, maketh him blindfold, not by taking away the power of seeing, but only by hindering it from action.  
The second reason is, not only a privation of consideration of those things, which may extinguish the passion, but also an enforcement or constraint, only to consider those motives or reasons which tend in favour of that passion: for although the main part of the soul's activity be haled away with the passion, yet there remaineth some sparks of light in the understanding, to perceive what is represented unto it, as when we hear sweet excellent music, we may perceyve some dainty smells, howbeit, not in that perfection we might, if our souls were not distracted with hearing; even so, some life is left to be employed to understanding, albeit not so great, because the soul is distracted with a Passion, the which enforceth the wit only to consider, what may conduce to the continuation and preservation thereof: the manner may thus be declared; for whatsoever we understand, passeth by the gates of our imagination, the cousin german to our sensitive appetite, the gates of our imagination being prevented, yea, and welnie shut up with the consideration of that object which feedeth the passion, and pleaseth the appetite; the understanding looking into the imagination, findeth nothing almost but the mother and nurse of his passion for consideration, where you may well see how the imagination putteth green spectacles before the eyes of our wit, to make it see nothing but green, that is, serving for the consideration of the Passion.  
Furthermore, the imagination representeth to the understanding, not only reasons that may favour the passion, but also it showeth them very intensively, with more show and appearance than they are indeed; for as the Moon, when she riseth or setteth; seemeth greater unto us, than indeed she is, (because the vapours or clouds are interposed betwixt our eyes and her) even so, the beauty and goodness of the object represented to our understanding, appeareth fairer and goodlier than it is, because a cloudy imagination interposeth a mist. And here it falleth forth, as he which is most studious, is best learned; and commonly, he that is best learned, is most studious: so, he that once apprehendeth the pleasure of the passion, ordinarily followeth it, and the passion increaseth the imagination thereof, and the stronger imagination rendereth the passion more vehement, so that oftentimes they enter but with an inch, and increase an ell: whereupon ensueth, that a false imagination corrupteth the understanding, making it believe that things are better than they are in very deed. And by this means, the wit two ways is troubled; first, in that the vehemency of the imagination causeth a vehement apprehension and judgement of the wit; secondarily, the false representation breedeth a false conceit in the mind: and by these we prove the imagination and passions to prevail so mightily, that men, in great pain, or exceeding pleasure, can scarce speak, see, hear, or think of any thing, which concerneth not their passion.  
And for this same cause, when wise men deal with any person wonderfully pensive, commonly they endeavour with reasons to diminish the cause of their grief: as if a woman hath lost her only son in wars; then to mitigate her sorrow, they will show her, that death apprehendeth all men sooner or later; it is a tribute must be paid; this world yieldeth nothing but misery; happier are they that depart from it, than those that enjoy it; his death was glorious, for his Country, for his Prince, the which among valiant captains, and noble minds, hath always been prized above ten thousand lives; if he had died an infarnous death, for treason, for rapine, for injustice, than she might have justly lamented; but in dying for justice, for obedience, for virtue, with glory, she hath rather an exceeding occasion of joy, than a motive of grief. All which persuasions (as you see) tend to no other end, but to rectify her judgement, and to represent unto the understanding, those reasons which might rebate the passion of sorrow, concealed from it, by the strong imagination of all those things which might increase her grief. Besides, the vehemency of the passion continueth the force of our imagination, because, whatsoever passeth by the gates of our senses, presently entereth into the court of our imagination, where the sensitive appetite doth entertain it: therefore, seeing all passions cause some sense or feeling, more or less in the body, so long as they endure, the imagination likewise representeth to the understanding, so long the object of the passion, and as a deceitful Counsellor, corrupteth his judge.  
The last reason, which importeth more than both the other, proceedeth from a naughty will, for that the soul, having rooted in it, these two parts, sensitive and reasonable: the will perceiving that the soul rejoiceth, she also contenteth herself, that the inferior appetite should enjoy her pleasure, or eschew her grief, with reason, or against reason, she careth not, so she may be made partaker: as the great Turk permitteth every one to live in his Religion, so they pay him tribute. And for this cause she commandeth the wit to employ all the power and force, to find out reasons and persuasions that all the appetite demandeth, standeth with reason and is lawful; the which collusion, I take to be one of the roots of all mischiefs, that now cover the face of the world, that is, a wicked will commanding the wit, to find out reasons to plead for Passions: for this corrupteth, yea wholly destroyeth the remorse of conscience, the careful guardian of the soul: this maketh men obstinate in all enormous vices; for when the wit is once persuaded, and no further appellation can be admitted, than the soul is confirmed almost in malice; this maketh so many Atheists, for vinum & mulieres apostatare 
Eccles. 19  faciunt sapientes, wine and women make men leave Religion: for as wine maketh men drunk, and robbeth the use of reason; so inordinate love and affection make drunk the soul, and deprive it of judgement; this, in fine, robbeth souls from God, and carrieth them to the devil. For if we examine exactly the grounds and origens of Apostasy from true faith, and the causes of heresies, we shall find them, to be some one or other wicked vice of the will, or vehement Passion which perverteth the judgement, specially when the Religion forbiddeth or punisheth those vices, whereunto the wicked will or Passions tend. S. Augustine relateth divers, who denied the torments of hell, and their Eternity, thereby to flatter their vicious affections 
Aug. lib. 1. de ●●●. cap. 18.  with a pretended assurance of impunity. S. Chrysostome reporteth, that the arch-heretic Paulus Samosetanus, for 
Chrysost. hom. 7. in johan.  the love of a woman forsook his faith and religion. S. Gregory the great imputeth it to avarice and covetousness, that many fall from their faith, or not admit a true faith: for the jew that thirsteth after Usury, will hardly admit Christianity, which shutteth from the 
Gregor. lib 20. moral. cap. 12.  holy mount of God's eternal blessedness, all those that lend their money to Usury, as in the 14. Psalm is manifest. Furthermore we may aptly remonstrate, how inordinate Passions cause and ingenerate in the soul, all those vices which are opposite to prudence. The first is Precipitation, or Rashness, which is nothing else, but 
Precipitation.  an uncircumspect, or unripe resolution or determination in affairs or negotiations: for the judgement being blinded with the Passion, considereth not exactly, for the importance of the business, those circumstances, which may withdraw it from the prosecution of such a vicious action. I remember that when I was in Italy, there was a Scottish Gentleman, of most rare and singular parts, who was a Retainer to a Duke of that Country, he was a singular good Scholar, and as good a Soldier; it chanced one night, the young Prince, either upon some spleen, or false suggestion, or to try the Scots valour, met him in a place where he was wont to haunt, resolving either to kill, wound, or beat him, and for this effect, conducted with him, two of the best Fencers he could find, the Scot had but one friend with him; in fine, a quarrel is picked, they all draw, the Scot presently ran one of the Fencers thorough, and killed him in a trice, with that he bended his forces to the Prince, who fearing, lest that which was befallen his Fencer, might happen upon himself, he exclaimed out instantly, that he was the Prince, and therefore willed him, to look about him what he did: the Scot perceiving well what he was, fell down upon his knees, demanding pardon at his hands, and gave the Prince his naked rapier, who no sooner had received it, but with the same sword he ran him thorough to death: the which barbarous fact, as it was condemned of all men, so it showeth the Precipitation of his passionate ireful heart: for if he had considered the humble submission of his servant, and loyalty of his subject, and valour of his soldier; if he had weighed the cowardliness of his fact, the infamy that he should thereby incur, he would never have precipitated into so savage an offence. But if with overmuch rashness a man contemn or despise any Law, preferring his passionate judgement before the prescript of law and reason, than his headdinesse is termed temerity.  
The second vice is Inconstancy, which is a change 
Inconstancy.  or alteration of that purpose or resolution, which a man had prudently determined before. And this we may daily try in all incontinent persons, who resolutely determine in the calm of their passions never to fall into their former filthiness, but presently, when the Passion ariseth, all the good resolutions are forgotten, and that which an unpassionate mind detested, a passionate soul most effectually pursueth. Not much unlike that which David once writ of himself, Ego dixi in abundantia 
Psalm 29.  mea, non movebor in aeternum: I said once in my abundance, or as the Called text hath, in my tranquillity, I will not be moved eternally: Avertisti nanum tuum, & factus sum conturbatus: Thou turnedst away thy hand, and I was troubled: as if he had said, thou permittedst me to be troubled with a Passion, and then my confident determination was changed.  
The third vice against Prudence, groweth upon excess of wicked consideration, as precipitation & inconstancy 
Astutia or craftiness.  upon the want or defect of circumspection. For the Passion delighting or afflicting the mind, causeth the judgement to think, invent, devise all means possible, either to enjoy the Passion of delight, or to avoid the molestation of sadness and fear. Wherefore Love is said to be Ingeniosissimus, most witty; for the thought of such matters as concerneth love, continually delighting the mind, and rolling daily and hourly in the fancy, suggesteth a world of conceits and inventions, to find out means and ways, to nourish, preserve, and increase the Passion, insomuch, as they which love vehemently, are never well, but either with them whom they love, or solitary by themselves, coining some new practices, to execute their inordinate love and affections. No better proof we need of this matter, than the infinite experiences in every Country are tried. The same I may say of Ire, Ambition, etc. All which Passions consisting in prosecution of some thing desired, and bringing with them a certain sense of delight, enforce the mind● (for fostering and continuing that pleasure) to excogitate new means and ways for the performance thereof.   

How Passions seduce the Will. CHAP. II.  
WIthout any great difficulty may be declared, how Passions seduce the Will: because the wit being the guide, the 
The first reason why passions seduce the will.  eye the stirrer, and director of the Will, which of itself, being blind, and without knowledge, followeth that the wit representeth, propoundeth, and approveth as good: and as the sensitive appetite followeth the direction of imagination; so the Will affecteth, for the most part, that, the understanding persuadeth to be best. Wherefore the waves and billows of apparent reasons, so shake the sandy shealfe of a weak Will, that they 
The second reason.  mingle it with them, and make all one. Besides, the sensitive appetite being rooted in the same soul with the Will, if it be drawn, or flieth from any object, consequently, the other must follow; even so, the object that haileth the sensitive appetite, draweth withal, the Will; and inclining her more to one part than another, diminisheth her liberty and freedom.  
Moreover, the Will, by yielding to the Passion, receyveth some little bribe of pleasure, the which moveth her, to let the bridle lose, unto inordinate appetites, because she hath engrafted in her, two inclinations; the one to follow Reason, the other to content the Senses: and this inclination (the other being blinded by the corrupt judgement, caused by inordinate Passions) here she feeleth satisfied. Finally, the Will, being the governess 
The third reason.  of the Soul, and loathing to be troubled with much dissension among her subjects, as an uncareful Magistrate neglecteth the good of the Commonweal, to avoid some particular men's displeasure; so the Will, being afraid to displease sense, neglecteth the care she ought to have over it; especially perceiving that the Soul thereby receyveth some interest of pleasure, or escheweth some pain.  
By this alteration which Passions work in the Wit and the Will, we may understand the admirable Metamorphosis and change of a man from himself, when his affects are pacified, and when they are troubled. Plutarch said they changed them like Circe's potions, 
Plutarch in moralib.  from men into beasts. Or we may compare the Soul without Passions, to a calm Sea, with sweet, pleasant, and crispling streams; but the Passionate, to the raging Gulf, swelling with waves, surging by tempests, minacing the stony rocks, and endeavouring to overthrow Mountains: even so, Passions make the Soul to swell with pride and pleasure; they threaten wounds, death and destruction, by audacious boldness and ire: they undermine the mountains of Virtue, with hope and fear; and in sum, never let the Soul be in quietness, but ever, either flowing with Pleasure, or ebbing with pain.   

How Passions altar the Body. CHAP. III.  
ALthough in the ninth Chapter sufficiently was declared, how the Passions of the mind alter the humours of the body, yet some peculiar discourses, concerning that matter, were reserved for this place.  
Two sorts of Passions affect all men, some (as we said before) dilate, and some compress and restringe the heart: Of the first was said, Vita carninum est cordis 
Proverb. 14. 3●  sanitas, the life of flesh, is the health of heart; for indeed, a joyful and quiet heart reviveth all the parts of the body: Of the other was written, Spiritus tristis exsiccat 
prb. 17.  ossa: a sad Spirit drieth the bones. And for that all Passions bring with them joy or pain, dilate or coarct the heart; therefore I think it not amiss, to declare the reason, why these two Passions work such alterations in the body, to the end, that by the knowledge of them, we may attain to the understanding of the rest.  
Pleasure and Delight, if it be moderate, bringeth health, because the purer spirits retire unto the heart, and they help marvelously the digestion of blood, so that thereby the heart engendereth great abundance, and most purified spirits, which after being dispersed thorough the body, cause a good concoction to be made in all parts, helping them to expel the superfluities; they also clear the brain, and consequently, the understanding: For although while the Passion endureth, it blindeth a little the indifferent judgement, yet after that it is past, it rendereth the brain better disposed, and apt to represent, whatsoever occurreth for speculation. From good concoction, expulsion of superfluities, and abundance of spirits, proceedeth a good colour, a clear countenance, and an universal health of the body. But if the Passion of pleasure be too vehement, questionless it causeth great infirmity: for the heart being continually environed with great abundance of spibecommeth too hot and inflamed, and consequently engendereth much choleric and burned blood: Besides, it dilateth and resolveth the substance of the heart too much, in such sort, as the virtue and force thereof is greatly weakened. Wherefore Socrates was wont to say, that those men, which live continently and frugally, had more pleasure, and less pain, than those, who with great care procured enticements to pleasure; because intemperate pleasures, besides the remorse of mind, infamy, and poverty, which waiteth upon them, for the most part, hurt more the body, than delight it. And some, with too vehement laughter have ended their days; as Philemon did. Plutarch recounteth also, how 
Erasm. lib. 6. Apotheg. Plutarch. in Hannib.  the Romans, losing to Hannibal, news was brought to Rome, and specially to two women, that their sons were slain: afterwards, a remnant of the soldiers returning, these two afflicted, ran with many more, to know the manner of their sons deaths, and amongst the rest, found them both alive, who for joy, gave up their ghosts. And universally, after much pleasure and laughter, men feel themselves both to languish, and to be melancholy.  
Yet the Passions which coarct the heart, as fear, sadness, and despair, as they bring more pain to the mind, so they are more dangerous to the body; and commonly, men prove less harm in those, than in these: and many have lost their lives with sadness and fear; but few, with love and hope, except they changed themselves into heaviness and despair. The cause why sadness doth so move the forces of the body, I take to be, the gathering together of much melancholy blood about the heart, which collection extinguisheth the good spirits, or at least dulleth them; beside, the heart being possessed by such an humour, cannot digest well the blood and spirits, which ought to be dispersed thorough the whole body, but converteth them into melancholy, the which humour being cold and dry, drieth the whole body, and maketh it whither away; for cold extinguisheth heat, and dryness moisture, which two qualities principally concern life.  
These Passions prevail often so much with men, that they languish away and die: as it befell to the marquess of Santa Cruz in Spain, the General to the kings Navy against the Frenchmen, who had taken the Azores; and D. Diego di Padiglia, the Governor of the Castle of Milan, who receyving certain words of disgrace from the King of Spain, they permitted themselves to be so ore-ruled with the melancholy Passion, that they scarce could chaw their meat and swallow it down; at least, they never made good digestion, and so with an ungracious death, they ended their disgraced life.  
Questionless, this vehement sort of Passions, proceedeth from an high, proud, and ambitious mind, and without all doubt, extraordinary self-love▪ the which, although by God's Law they are prohibited, yet by the vain humours of men, such spirits are highly prized. I remember that in Italy, after the year, one thousand five hundred eighty and eight, I heard diverse Italian Captains, greatly condemning the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the King of Spain's General in his Navy against England, because he died not of Melancholy, for that his Fleet miscarried so basely, and was foiled by the English Forces so easily. What Maladies grow by cares and heaviness, many can testify, and few men there be, which are not subject to some melancholy humour, that often assaulteth them, troubling their minds, and hurting their bodies; the old Physicians can witness this verity, confirmed by long experience, and registered in verse, as a Medicine to all Posterity.  

Si vis incolumem, si te vis reddere sanum, 
Schola salerna.   
Curas tolle graves, irasci crede prophanum.   

If thou wilt live in health,  
devoyde of grief and pain,  
Set carking cares aloof,  
and choler think profane.   
And Euripides,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Sorrows to men diseases bring.  
And Solomon, Tristitiam longè expelle à te: Multos 
Eccles. 30. 25  enim etc. Expel sadness far from thee; For sadness hath killed many, neither is there any profit in it. Zeal (that is, envy, emulation or indignation) and anger shorten thy days, and Thought (that is, superfluous care and solicitude) bring old Age before her time.  
To conclude, I am of opinion, that Passions cause many Maladies, and welnie all are increased by them, for that all pain engendereth melancholy; which, for the most part, nourisheth all diseases: for many we read of that were cured by mirth, but never any by sorrow or heaviness. When Alfonsus' King of Naples was abandoned of his Physicians, as in a desperate case, than he called for Quintus Curtius, and took such delight to hear him read, that he recovered his health again, and presently rejected his Physicians, as not able to cure (by Physic) that he obtained by a little delight. This fact I cannot greatly commend, for Physicians and Medicines were ordained by God, and a wise man will not despise them; it may be, Quintus Curtius pacified the kings melancholy mind, which no medicine could do.  
Yet there occurreth one point in this matter, not to be omitted, that Passions engender Humours, and Humours breed Passions: how Passions cause Humours, we have hitherto sufficiently declared; but how Humours stir up Passions, must now be delivered. We read in the Maccabees, how, before they led the Elephants to fight in wars, they accustomed to mingle juice of grapes and mulberries together, to sharpen and incense them more to battle, and it seemeth a thing frequented in many Nations, to stir up beasts to fight, by showing them some red colour, for thereby they imagine, that the sight of blood inflameth them to the shedding of blood: as in Spain they use, when they chase their wild Bulls, and in Italy their Bufaloes. The true cause, why beasts are incensed with a red colour, Valesius an excellent Physician rendereth: for (saith he) the sight of red things (according to the common opinion of Galen, and other Physicians) stirreth and inflameth the blood, therefore they prohibit those which are much given to bleeding, to behold any red colour. And I myself in Italy have heard Physicians command, that red clothes, coveringes, and hangings should be taken from before the patients, which were labouring in a tertian Ague; because they affirmed, that red colours moved and inflamed the blood. Now if the blood of Elephants, being incensed with a red colour, had force to stir in them the Passion of Ire in battle; how much more may we say, that if much hot blood abound in the body, that subject, by the force of that Humour, shall easily, and often be moved to anger; if temperate blood abound, or be mingled with phlegm, to mirth; if melancholy exceed, to grief and heaviness? And in effect we prove in dreams, and Physicians prognosticate by them, what humour aboundeth, for Choler causeth fight, blood and wounds; Melancholy, disgrace, fears, affrightments, ill success, and such like: these dreams are caused by the spirits, which ascend into the imagination, the which being purer or grosser, hotter or colder, more or less, (which diversity dependeth upon the humours of the body) move diverse Passions according to their Nature. And for this cause we may resolve another difficulty, why some men are always, almost merry; others, for the most part, melancholy; others, ever angry: this diversity must come from the natural constitution of the body, wherein, one or other humour doth predominate. The self same cause may be alleged, why sometimes we feel ourselves; we know not why, moved to Mi●th, Melancholy, or Anger: insomuch that any little occasion were sufficient to incense that Passion: for, as these humours depend upon the heavens, air, sleep and waking, meat and drink, exercise and rest, according to the alterations of these external causes; one or other Humour doth more or less overrule the body, and so causeth alteration of Passions.  
Out of this discourse, and the 9 Chapter, we may resolve some pretty curious Questions, more talked of and practised, then well understood.  
The first is, how can possibly a man's conceit work strange effects in his body? As for example, Hypocrates exhorteth Physicians, if two kinds of meat were to be ministered to a Patient, the one healthful, and the other a little hurtful, or not so good as the other, that they should prefer this being much desired, before that not so well liked: and generally, both Philosophers and Physicians maintain, that the opinion of the Patient, of the physicians knowledge, and goodness of the Physic, importeth much for the curing of any malady. The reason is plain (for these and such like experiences) for the Imagination herein (though erroneously conceiving things better than indeed and really they are) causeth a vehement Passion of Hope, wherewith followeth an extraordinary Pleasure in the things; which two Passions awake, or rouse up the pu●er Spirits, and unite them together, qualifying and resining them in the best manner; which thus combined, do most effectually cooperate with Nature, & strengthen her in the performance of any corporal action or vital operation.  
Secondly, how S. Austin's opinion may be verified, who thinketh, that the Bulls with white spots, which continued ever among the Egyptians, and were adored for their god Apis, was ever engendered by the act of 
Aug. de ●ir. c. 5  the Devil, to deceive the Egyptians, who caused in the brain of the Cow, while she was in conceiving, the imaginations of such a coloured Bul, which imagination wrought so mightily, that she conceived the like, and so they never wanted spotted Bulls. Galen also reporteth, 
Galen. de Theriaca ad Pison. Gen. 30.  that a woman beholding a most beautiful picture, conceived and brought forth a most beautiful child, by a most deformed father, we have also in the scriptures the like experience in jacob, who to cause his Ewes conceive speckled lambs, put sundry white rods in the channels where the beasts were watered, and thereby the lambs were yeaned particoloured. These proved experiments, by the censure of Aristotle a sage Philosopher, and Galen a sound Physician, proceeded from a vehement imagination in the time of conception. And for this cause saith Aristotle, we see the younglings of bruit beasts, for most part to resemble in colours, figures, temper, greatness, proprieties and conditions, their siers and dams: but in men we observe far otherwise, for wise parents beget foolish children, & virtuous vicious; and contrariwise, foolish parents wise children, and vicious virtuous: fair parents procreate foul children, and deformed parents fair children: and among the children of the same parents, one will be wise, another foolish, one fair, another foul. The cause of this variety, are the various imaginations of the Parents, at the time of their Conception: Beasts therefore not being distracted with these various Imaginations, conceive not with such diversity. I am not ignorant that Huartes in his trial of Wits, derideth this reason, and saith that this answer of Aristotle savoureth of great simplicity: for he resolveth all this variety into the multiplicity & diversity of nourishment, which men receive, far different from beasts, which is uniform, and for most part the same: as also for that generation is an operation of the vegetative and not of the sensitive soul. But by his leave, Aristotle's opinion is as probable as his, and both joined together, make one complete & perfect. For albeit generation be an action of our vegetative soul, yet it is subordinate & greatly qualified by the sensitive, for diverse imaginations of more or less pleasure in that act, inciteth more or less thereunto, and so causeth a perfitter or more unperfitte generation. The variety also of nourishment and qualities or tempers of the seed, more or less concur therewithal.   

The fourth effect of Passions, which is, disquietness of the Mind. CHAP. FOUR  
He that should see Hercules raging, Orestes trembling, Cain ranging, Amon pining, Dido consuming, Archimedes running naked, would little doubt, that Passions mightily change and alter the quiet temper and disposition of the Mind: for if peace be a concord, or consort of our sensual soul with reason; if then the Mind be quiet, when the Will ruled by Prudence overruleth, moderateth and governeth Passions: questionless, than the soul is troubled, when Passions arise up and oppose themselves against Reason: Inordinate affections (as experience teacheth) many ways disquiet the Mind, and trouble the peaceable state of this petty commonweal of our soul: but specially by five: by Contradiction, by Contrariety, by Insatiabilitie, by Importunity, by Impossibility.  

Contradiction. § I.  
BY two ways the Subjects of every Commonweal, usually disturb the State, and breed civil broils therein: the first is, when they rise up and rebel against their King: the second is, when they brawl one with another, and so cause riots and tumults: the former is called Rebellion, the latter Sedition. After the same manner, Passions either rebel against Reason their Lord and King, or oppose themselves one against another, that I call Contradiction, this Contrariety. The former he well understood, that said Spiritus concupiscit 
Gal. 5.  adversus carnem, & caro adversus Spiritum: The Spirit affects against the Flesh, & the Flesh against the Spirit. This internal Combat and spiritual Contradiction, every spiritual man daily perceyveth, for inordinate Passions, will he, nill he, cease not almost hourly to rise up against Reason, and so molest him, troubling the rest and quietness of his Soul. It is related in the life of S. Anselme, our Archbishop of Canterbury, that walking 
In vita Ansel●●.  into the fields, he saw a shepherds little boy, who had caught a Bird, and tied a stone to her leg with a thread, and ever as the Bird mounted up to soar aloft, the stone drew her down again. The venerable old man, much moved at this sight, fell presently a weeping, lamenting thereby, the miserable condition of men, who no sooner did endeavour to ascend to Heaven by contemplation, but the Flesh and Passions haled the heart back again, and drew it down to earth, enforcing the Soul to lie there like a beast, which should have soared in the Heavens like an Angel. For these rebellious Passions are like crafty pioneers, who, while Soldiers live carelessly within their Castle, or at least not much suspect, they undermine it, and break in so upon them, that they can hardly escape: in like manner, these Affections undermine the understandings of men, for while the wits are either careless, or employed in other affairs, there creepeth up into their hearts, some one or other perverse Passion, which transporteth the Soul clean another way, in so much as that with extreme difficulty she can recall herself again, and reduce her Affections unto their former quietness and peaceable temper. Who seethe and ●eeleth not, that often times while Reason attendeth to Contemplation, a villainous Passion of Love withdraweth the attention, and with an attoxicated delight imprisoneth the Affection? who perceyveth not, that diverse times Reason would pardon all iniu●ies, and Ire opposeth itself, importuning revenge? who experimenteth not, that Reason would willingly fast and abstain from delicacies, but inordinate Delight will feast, and endure no austerities? who knoweth not, that Reason often prescribeth, yea, urgeth to labour and pain, for the service of God, or to perform the affairs of the world, and Sensuality would pass her time idly? And after this sort almost continually inordinate Passions contradict right Reason.   

Contrariety of Passions. §. II.  
THe Egyptians fought against the Egyptians, the East wind riseth often against the West, the South against the North, the Wind against the Tide, and one Passion fighteth with an other. The choleric Cavalliere would with death revenge an injury, but fear of killing or hanging opposeth itself against this Passion. Gluttony would have dainties, but Covetousness prescribeth parsimony. Lechery would reign and domineer, but dreadfulness of infamy, and fear of diseases draw in the reins of this inordinate Affection. By which opposition we may easily perceive, how unquiet is the heart of a passionate man, tossed like the Sea with contrary winds, even at the same time and moment. another Disquietness there is also, which to many happeneth, and that wellnigh upon a sudden: For some times a man will be in the prime of his joy, and presently a sea of grief overwhelmeth him. In what a world of joy lived Balthasar, when sitting at his Supper 
Dan. 5.  with his Minions and Concubines, he caused in a Triumph to be set before him, for a glimpse of his glory, the golden Vessel which his Father had by Conquest brought from the Temple of Jerusalem? and yet the Hand which appeared writing upon the wall, drowned all his pleasure in a gulf of fear and woe. Putiphars' wife was inflamed with love, when she alured 
Genes. 10.  chaste joseph to violate both her and his fidelity unto her husband: and presently the Passion of hatred as vehemently vexed her, as the Passion of love had formerly tormented her.   

Insatiabilitie of Passions. §. III.  
HEll, earth, and a woman's womb, saith Solomon, are 
Prou. 30. 15.  unsatiable; & with these he might have numbered a number of Passions. How unsatiable was the lust of Solomon, who had no less Queens and Concubines than a thousand? How increaseth the Passion of covetousness 
3. Regs 3.  with the increase of riches? Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit. As riches flow, so love doth grow. And herein we may resemble our Passions to men affected with the dropsy, who the more they drink, the more they thirst: for drink caufeth such a desire and increaseth it, even so a vehementinordinate Passion inclineth vohemently the soul to embrace or fly the object propounded; and a stronger Passion causeth a stronger propension and inclination, and consequently an insatiable desire of pleasure, or an exorbitant abomination of pain. It is well known in Scotland how insatiable is the passion of Ire, and the appetite of Revenge, for their deadly will never be quenched, but with the blood of all their enemies and their adherents. In the City of Naples not many years since the base passionate people wanting corn, and imputing the dearth, either to the negligence or avarice of a certain Magistrate, came and beset his house, killed divers of his servants, and finally caught the master, and by main force brought him into the market place, ripped his belly, pulled out his heart, and there in presence of all the City eat it with salt. How the Passions of Pride and Ambition, how unsatiable they be in women and courtiers, all the world knoweth, and no man is ignorant but he that knoweth nothing.   

Importunity of Passions. § FOUR  
INordinate Passions either prevent reason, or are stirred up by a corrupt judgement, and therefore neither observe time nor place: but upon every occasion would be leaping into action, importuning execution. Let a man fall a praying or studying, or be busy in any negotiation▪ importance, and very often he shall feel a headless Passion to rush in upon him, importuning him even then to leave all, and prosecute revenge, lust, gluttony, or some other unbridled desire. It is well known how in the sack of sundry Cities, when the unruly and passionate soldiers should have attended and employed all their forces to keep the gates, or win the Market places, or defend the common passages; contrariwise by the importunity of Passions, either distracted with desire of spoil and riches, or drawn with appetite of private revenge, or haled with lust to violate Virgins or honest Matrons, lose in a moment all they won with extreme loss and labour, and perhaps also their lives withal▪ Sometimes you shall have a number of greedy Passions like so many young Crows half starved gaping and crying for food, every one more earnest than another to be satiated; to content them all is impossible, to content none is intolerable, to prosecute one, and abandon the rest, is to carry so many hungry vipers gnawing upon the heartstrings of the soul.  
Saint Basil saith, that inordinate Passions rise up in a 
Basil. hom. inebrietat & luxnr.  drunkard like a swarm of Bees, buzzing on every side: or like wild horses drawing a coach, running with it headlong shaking, herrying and herling their Master at their pleasure: for in such men a multitude of Passions most apparently discover themselves, and in regard that Reason in them is buried, and cannot hold the rains of such savage and unreasonable beasts, therefore they break out debostly, and never cease to range and revel, till Reason rise out of her cimmerian darkness, grave of oblivion, and puddle of ignorance and senseless beastliness.   

Impossibility of Passions. § V  
THere is no man in this life which followeth the stream of his Passions, but expecteth and verily believeth to get at last a firm rest, contentation, and full satiety of all his appetites: the which is as possible, as to quench fire with fuel, extinguish a burning ague with hot wines, drown an Eel with water. Rachel well declared 
Gen. 30. 1.  the impossible petitions of her Passions, when so importunely she demanded children of jacob, or else that she would die: as though it lay in his power to have children at his pleasure. That epicure who wished his throat as long as a Crane (yet rather deserved a nose as long as a Woodcock) that his dainty fare might longer feed his gluttonous taste, and not pass away almost in a moment, well declared that Passions suits were not only senseless, but also impossible to be granted. It is wonderful what passionate appetites reign in women when they be with child; I have heard it credibly reported, that there was a woman in Spain, which longed almost till death, to have a mouth full of flesh out of an extreme fat man's neck. I will not here condemn all women, who labour with such frantic fits; yet I can not but approve a sage Philosopher's sentence (who was my master in Philosophy) that most of these appetites proceeded from women extremely addicted to follow their own desires, and of such a froward disposition, as in very deed, if they were crossed of their wills, their Passions were so strong, as they undoubtedly would miscarry of their children; for vehement Passions altar vehemently the temper and constitution of the body, which can not but greatly prejudice the tender infant lying in the womb. And the rather I am persuaded to this opinion, for that I never knew any woman very virtuous, or well mortified subject to these fancies. Nevertheless, by these preposterous desires, and sundry appetites for things impossible, or almost impossible to be accomplished, we may well conclude, that Passions desires keep neither sense, order, nor measure.     

The third Book of the Passions of the Mind: wherein are delivered the means to know, and mortify Passions, what prudence and Policy may be practised in them.  

Means for every man to know his own Passions. CHAP. I.  
LIttle it would avail the Physician to speculate the causes and effects of infirmities, if he could not find forth some remedies: so small profit the knowledge of our Passions would afford us, if we could not attain unto some good means to direct them. And albeit in every particular treatise of particular Passions, I pretend to touch this string, yet I could not omit to set down some general rules, as both method and matter require.  
Before all other things, it is most necessary for hi● that will moderate or mortify his Passions, to know his own Inclination, and to what Passions his Soul most bendeth: for you shall have no man, but he is inclined more to one Passion than another, the means to come to this knowledge, may be these: To expend thy natural constitution, for choleric men be subject to Anger, melancholy men to Sadness, sanguine to Pleasure, phlegmatic to Sloth and drunkenness. Besides, consider with what company thou most delightest, and in them thou shalt see a pattern of thy Passions: for like affecteth like: as Augustus being at a Combat, where was present an infinite number of people; and among the rest, as principal, his two daughters, julia and Livia: 
Sueton.  he marked what company courted them, and perceyved that grave Senators talked with Livia, and lose younkers, and riotous persons with julia; whereby he came to discern his Daughter's inclinations and manners; for he well knew, that customs and company, are cousin germans; and manners, and meetings, for the most part, sympatize together.  
Hereunto add thoughts, and words: if one speak and think much of beauty, vain attire, glory, honour, reputation; if he feel in his heart, that often he desireth to be praised, or to insinuate his own praise, it is most manifest, that the Passion of Pride pricketh him; and so I mean of all other Affections, because the mind doth think, and the tongue will speak according to the Passions of the heart: for, as the Rat running behind a painted cloth, betrayeth herself; even so, a Passion lurking in the heart, by thoughts and speech discovereth itself, according to the common Proverb, ex abundantia cordis os loquitur, from the abundance of heart, the tongue speaketh: for as a River abounding with water, must make an inundation, and run over the banks; even so, when the heart is overflowen with affections, it must find some passage by the mouth, mind, or actions. And for this cause, I have diverse times heard some persons very passionate affirm, that they thought their hearts would have broken, if they had not vented them in some sort, either with spiteful words, or revenging deeds: and that they could do no otherwise than their Passions enforced them.  
Another remedy to know thyself, more palpable to be perceived, & most profitable to be practised, I think to be a certain reflection, that thou mayest make of thyself, after this manner: mark in other men, their words, gestures, and actions, when as they seem to thee to proceed from some inordinate Passion; as if thou see (for example) one eat very greedily, stuff his cheeks like two dugs, then plainly it appeareth, such actions glance out of gluttony: likewise, if thou hear one talk bawdily, questionless, such speeches leak out of a lecherous heart: If one be fickle in apparel, in customs, & exercises, such are the ofspringes of inconstancy: after thou hast well noted the fruits of these Passions, make then a reflection upon thyself, and weigh whether thou hast not done heretofore, and daily dost such like, but that the vail of self-love doth blind thy eyes, that thou canst not see them.  
It is good also to have a wise and discreet friend, to admonish us of our Passions, when we err from the path and plain way of Virtue: for as I have often said, self-love blindeth much a man; and another may better judge of our actions, than we can ourselves: but I would not have this Scindicke to be molestfull, and to make of a moale-hill, a Mountain, but to show the Passion, and the reason why such words and actions were undecent: Truly, if a man might have such a friend, I would think he had no small treasure. And especially this aught to be practised by great Persons, who never (almost) hear the truth concerning their own actions: for Flattery feigneth falsehood: & hope of gain and preferment, moveth them to praise vices for virtues. This Truth might largely be proved, but that it is more palpable, by experience, than can be denied.  
It chanceth sometimes, by God's permission, that our enemies (who pry into our actions and examine more narrowly our intentions then we ourselves) discover unto us better our Passions, and reveal our imperfections, than ever we ourselves. As befell unto S. Augustine's mother, the holy Monica, who, (as he relateth in his Confessions) being from her youth accustomed to drink only water, was after some time by her friends and parents, caused to sip a little wine, and so by sipping little and little, she came to such a delight of drinking wine, that she would sip off a pretty cup: It happened one day, that the Maid of the house and she fell at some words, and the Maid (according to women's fashions) upbraided her with all the faults she knew, and among the rest expostulated this, calling her meribibulam, a tosspot, or tippler of pure wine: the godly Monica conceyved such an aversion from wine, and such a shame by this expostulation, that she never drunk any more all the days of her life.  
Lastly, a good way to know the inclinations of the mind, is like the manner we come by the knowledge of the inclinations of our bodies, that is, by long experience. For as we say, if a man, before forty years of age be not a good physician of his own body, that is, if he know not whether his inclination bendeth, what doth him good, what bringeth harm, he deserveth to be registered for a fool; even so, he that in many years by continual practice of his own soul perceiveth not where his passions lie, in my judgement, he scarce deserveth the name of a wise man: for as he may be begged for an idiot, who riding a horse for ten years, every day from morning to night, and yet knoweth not the qualities of his horse, and the vices whereunto he is subject; so he which every day manageth his own soul, if after ten years labour he cannot find whither the inclinations tend, he may well be thought either very vicious, or very simple.   

Means to mortify Passions. CHAP. II.  
AFter thou hast attained the knowledge of thy inclinations, thou must then consider, whether they be extraordinarily vehement, or no: For, as to greater griefs stronger remedies are applied, so to furious and outrageous passions, more forcible means are to be ministered. If thou thoroughly perceive thy passions to exceed the common course, then look to the end of the 16. chapter, where thou shalt see how hard they are to be rained, and what great, yea and extreme difficulty they cast upon thee against virtue and goodness, and then thou mayest accept these few rules.  
Every moderate passion bordureth betwixt two extremes, as liberality betwixt avarice and prodigality; temperate diet betwixt gluttony and scarcity; fortitude betwixt desperate boldness and superfluous fear, called timidity. Men commonly by nature are more inclined to one of these extremes than another, as most men are given to covetousness, few to prodigality; more to eat too much, than to eat too little; more to be afraid when they need not, than to be too bold when they ought to be afraid. If then thou try thyself, not vehemently inclined to any of these passions, yet sometimes to exceed in one extreme, sometime in another; commonly the securest way to be practised, is to incline thyself to that extreme which men by nature most vehemently abhor, as prodigality, scarcevesle in diet, boldness in dangers. But if thou perceive a vehement inclination to the one extreme, procure to bend thyself as far to the other; for so thou shalt with more facility come to the midst: as commonly the Philosophers declare, by the example of a crooked staff, the which to make strait, we bend to the other side, and make it as crooked contrariwise as it was before.  
The second rule to moderate passions, we may learn 
Solus in illicitis non cadit, qui se aliquando & a licitis caute restringit. Gregor. lib. 5. moral. & hom. 35. super evan.  of Socrates, who to bridle extraordinary and unlawful pleasures, was accustomed to abstain from lawful and not prohibited: For if one be addicted to drunkenness, he shall with more facility overcome this passion, if he abstain from strong drinks, he most affecteth, even at such times as lawfully he may use them.  
The third rule to fly occasions, which may incense the passion whereunto we are inclined: for occasiones factunt latrones, a commodious and fit occasion to steal, maketh oftentimes thieves, which otherwise would have been honest men: wherefore he that committeth himself to sea in a boisterous tempest, deserveth to suffer shipwreck, & he that willingly without necessity dealeth with infected persons, may blame himself if he fall into their diseases: so he that is given to lasciviousness, and useth riotous company, may condemn his own wilfulness, if his passions rebel and overcome him. For this cause God commanded that the Nazarites which were consecrated to him, should drink no Wine, not any thing that might cause drunkenness; and lest they should, by eating grapes or great reisins be alured to the 
Num 6.  drinking of wine, he commanded them, they should neither eat grapes nor reisins: So, he that will not be guided by affections, must diligently avoid occasions. Yet this rule ought not to be understood universally, for it is convenient to find out occasions to exercise some passions, as to seek the poor, to practise the passion of pity; to visit the sick, to show compassion; to exercise learning, to overcome fear. But in such passions as Nature more than willingly would follow, best it were to fly occasions: as he that will live chaste, must eschew much familiarity with suspected persons, and universally with all women; not looking upon them, nor touching, except necessity, or good manners, in some few cases requireth. The same may be said of gluttony, pride, and such like, whereunto our corrupt nature is much inclined: yet if some man by experience have proved such passions not to be very rebellious, and that for most part he hath overruled them, he may be something the bolder: yet let him not be too confident, for the Fox often seems to be dead, to seize more assuredly upon his prey.  
The fourth remedy, for noble spirits singular; of base minds abhorred, yet of both worthy to be practised, may be drawn out of the very poison of passions, that is, when a most vehement and rebellious motion assaulteth thee, when the fierceness and tyranny thereof well-nigh possesseth thee, when thou art almost yielding consent unto it: then turn the force of thy soul with as much endeavour as thou canst to the contrary, and with one nail drive out another; make of temptations 
1. Cor. 10. 11. 2. Cor. 8. 9  a benefit, let virtue in infirmity and weakness of resistance be more perfect, and ennobled: For as in wars the valiantest soldiers in greatest encounters are best tried, so in most vehement passions, the resolutest minds are best proved. For joseph's chastity had never been so glorious, if his unchaste lady had not so vehemently alured him to defile the bed of his lord. jobs patience had never been so conspicuous, if the passion of grief and sadness had not so violently seized upon him. Abraham's fortitude had never been so heroical, if the death of his only son had not cut in a manner his heart strings asunder.  
This mean, to mortify passions, I take to be one of the most forcible and important remedies that men can use, especially for two causes: the first, for that by these contrary acts are bred in the souls, certain habits, helps, stays, or inclinations most opposite unto our passions; and therefore the passions being strong, they cannot be overcomed, but by the might of excellent virtue: for as the deeper a tree is rooted in the ground, it requireth greater force to pull it up; even so, the greater possession the passion hath taken of the soul, the greater virtue it needeth to supplant it. It seemeth that job, after 
job. 13. 15.  so many temptations, practised this remedy, when he said, Etiamsi occideret me, in ipso sperabo. Although God kill me, yet I will hope in him: For questionless, those pains and pangs did incite him to desperation; the which, with contrary trust in God he most valiantly suppressed. Another cause may be yielded, for that many passions proceed, not only from the inclinations of nature, alterations of humours, but by the very suggestion of the devil, who watcheth his opportunity, to take men at an advantage, and to induce them to sundry inordinate affections; for which cause, they are called very often in Scriptures, unclean spirits, because they lead men into unclean passions and actions. The devil therefore seeing his temptations so valiantly resisted, his poisoned darts rebounding into his own breast, I mean his illusions redound to his own shame and confusion, dareth not be so bold another time to invade so strong a sort, but with all his troop will fly from it, as a swarm of filthy flies dare not approach near unto a boiling pot, Resistite diabolo, & fugiet à vobis, resist the devil, and he 
james 4. 7.  will fly from you.  
The fift remedy, not inferior to the precedent, is to resist passions at the beginning: use the remedy for virtue, that Pharaoh practised for tyranny, in killing all the infants of the jews, lest they should increase too much, and so overrun his country: While the sore is green, seldom surgeon's despair, but festered once, they hardly cure it: so passions, while they knock at the door of our minds, whilst they are a little entertained, if you expel them not quickly, they will allodge longer with you than you would have them. And the most easy way of all, and by spiritual men daily put in ure, is to divert the thoughts to some other object: for as we use in common conversation, when two be brawling about any thing, to divert their talk to another matter; (for, as long as they continue about the same subject, they are in danger to fall into the same inconvenience) so the best way to expel an inordinate passion, is, to transport the attention to some other matter; as he that will be rid of an ill guest, the worse he entertaineth him, the sooner he shall be dispatched of him: and for this cause, when any passion oppresseth a man, those who are addicted to study, have great advantage of others, because they may divert their minds easily with their Books.  
The sixth remedy to mortify passions, is, to bridle the body, that is, to chastise it, according to that saying of Saint Paul: Castigo corpus meum, & in servitutem redigo 
1. Corin. 9 27.  ne, cum alijs praedicavero ipse reprobus efficiar. I chastise my body, and bring it into servitude, lest I that preach to others, become reprobat. For questionless, he that pampereth his body, seedeth his enemy, and he that will feed it with dainties, cannot but find it rebellious; for this we see in wild beasts, That the best way to tame them, is by ill usage: pamper a horse, and you shall have him too wanton; pamper your flesh, and it will overrule you. And he that will mortify his passions, and let his body flow with delicacies, doth like him which will extinguish fire by adding more fuel. Therefore fasting, praying, lying hard, course shirts, pinching cold, much study, and such austerities, are foements of virtue, and bane of passions: and in fine, how much the more with reason and prudence we afflict this rebellious flesh, we make it so much the more a fit instrument for mortification, virtue, and all goodness.  
The seventh remedy, requireth a resolute good will and endeavour to attain unto this perfect government of a man's self: whence from will follow a diligent execution of mortification; for such a man will not cease daily and incessantly to demand grace and favour of God to overcome his rebellious nature, resist temptations, withstand all false allurements of this enticing world: Such an one will examine daily his conscience, and note what thoughts, words, or deeds, against God himself, and his neighbour, he hath committed, whereby either virtue is extinguished, or vice increased: Such an one will determine in the morning when he riseth, not to let pass that day, without the extirpating of some stinking and poisoned thorn, and planting some sweet and pleasant flower, within the garden of his soul: Such an one will not only prevent occasions, but also arm himself as well as he can to resist such temptations as he knoweth especially shall be offered in certain places and company, which he cannot conveniently avoid.  
To this helpeth greatly the consideration of that small pleasure passions do yield; for, almost, in a moment they are commenced, practised, and past; wherefore much better it were to cross them a little, and win a crown of glory, than to please them a moment, to be condemned to hell.  
Lastly, but chiefly, when thy passions are most vehement, then seek for succour from Heaven, fly under the wings of Christ, as the chickens under their hen, when the kite seeketh to devour them: beat at the gates of his mercy, crave grace to overcome thy misery. He is thy Father, and will not give thee a serpent, if thou ask him a fish: humble thyself before him, open thy sores and wounds unto him, and the good Samaritane will pour in both wine and oil; and then thou shalt see thy passions melt and fall away as clouds are consumed by the Sun.   

Prudence to be used in Passions. CHAP. III.  
AS the Physician of the body ordaineth not only medicines for his patient's maladies, but also prescribeth his diet, rest, or exercise, sleep, or waking, what he ought to do in the accession of his agu●, what in declination: even so about the passions of the mind, which are certain diseases of the soul, like care and diligence must be used. The remedies were delivered in the precedent chapter, the carriage and demeanour in them shall be set down in the present.  
Two sorts of prudence we may use concerning passions, the one how to behave and carry ourselves when we are troubled with them; the other, how to deal with others, when we perceive they are possessed of them: the first I will call prudence in passions; the second, policy. The former I mean to handle here, the latter, in the next chapter.  
The first point of prudence which all prudent men confess and observe, is to persuade ourselves when we are moved with a vehement passion, that our souls are then, as it were, infected with a pestilent ague, which both hindereth the sight of our eyes, and the taste of our tongues, that is, corrupteth the judgement, and perverteth the will; that as certain spectacles make mountains seem molehills, and others, molehills like mountains; even so, passions make the passionate to judge all those things which tend to the favour of his passion, reasonable, great, and worthy, and all that stands against it, base, vile, and naughty, as in the twelfth chapter was declared.  
Hereupon followeth, that at what time the passion is afloat, and reigneth, it were not good to make any resolution or determination of change: for some I have seen so vehement in their passions, that whatsoever was suggested them, either by the devil, or their passions, they presently would put it in execution: I do think there be few men living, which have not overshot themselves in this point, and repent when their souls were calmed, that they committed, when they were tempested.  
The most part of the world is bewitched with this sorcery; for what wicked resolutions attempt the choleric in the very dregs of their anger? What desperate words fly? What fields are pitched in the heat of ire? How many kill, drown, and hang themselves in melancholy and desperations? What fornications, adulteries, incests, and other beastialities are effected in the furious flame of fleshly lust? All the world can witness, which I think to be too too sufficient proof; wherefore Architas did wisely, when he found his servants in the field, to have committed once a fault, and perceiving himself to be greatly moved therewithal, he would not beat them in his ire, but said: Fortunati estis quod irascor vobis, Happy are you that I am angry with you, for otherwise he would have beaten them. Cicero 4. Tuscul.  
And Athenedorus, a wise Philosopher, departing from Augustus Caesar, and bidding him farewell, he left this lesson with him, most worthy to be printed in an emperors breast, That when he was angry, he should neither speak nor do any thing, before he had recited the four and twenty names of the Greek Alphabet: The which lesson Caesar received as a most precious jewel. Plutarch in Apoph. Rom.  
The second point of prudence in passions, is, to conceal, as much as thou canst, thy inclinations, o● that passion thou knowest thyself most prone to follow; and this for two causes: first, for credit: secondarily, for many inconveniences that may thereby ensue. It impeacheth questionless greatly, a grave man's credit, a great man's authority, and a civil man's good conversation, to be subject to some one only inordinate passion: for such a corrupt judgement hath now so much prevailed with men, yea, and ever hath been, that they will contemn the whole, for some one notable defect: as for example, if we see a picture of a man or woman, drawn with exquisite colours, great proportion, and art; yet, if there be but one eye, one arm, yea or one finger out of square, men will say, the image is spoiled, for that one defect; yea, the first thing almost we mark, is the improportion or disquaring of that part.  
How many prize, almost nothing, their geldings, because they lack their tails, ears, mane, or good colours? Even so, we try by daily talk, that commonly men descant upon other men's doings; they will say, such a nobleman is resolute in wars, goodly in person; but subject to choler, too much addicted unto his own judgement▪ such a man excelleth in learning, yea but pride overruleth him; such a Senator judgeth profoundly, but is impatient in hearing of causes; such a man reigneth in the Pulpit, but blinded with covetousness; such a man passeth in Music, but is buried, for the most part, in the tavern; such a man giveth great alms, but attendeth too much to good cheer; and in fine, there is no man so well qualified, but always the world will condemn him, because they judge him stained with some passion: therefore great prudence wisemen account it, for grave and great persons, not to lay their passions open to the censure of the world. Many inconveniences may follow, if others know what passions men are subject unto; for if thy enemies would be revenged of thee, no fit means they might slightly use, than to procure some way whereby thy passions should be stirred and put in execution; for by often ministering matter, thy passions would easily subdue thee: as a Spanish soldier and a Dutchman, after many brags of their valour and feats of arms aptly insinuated: for (said the Spanish soldier) with one Spaniard, & a hundred butts of wine, I would kill a whole army of Dutchmen; because I would set my wine at night, in such a place, where I knew the Dutch troops should lodge, and then I know they would never leave drinking while there remained any wit in their brains; and so buried with drink, it were no great mastery to dispatch them all. Nay, quoth the Dutchman, without any man, I would destroy a troop of Spaniards, only by sending against them a multitude of women, for they might easily make of them a massacre like Paris, or an evensong of Sicily at midnight in their beds. These two knew well the inclinations of both Countries, and consequently perceived the way how one might overthrow the other; yet although they were simple and soldierlike discourses (for many things may be in common avoided, which in particular may be hardly escaped) nevertheless they knew how easy a thing it was, by ministering matter to passions, to cast a bait with a hook to draw them into their own ruin.  
But some would be glad to know, how a man might well conceal his passions, so that the world should not judge him passionate. I answer, that this question yieldeth some difficulty, for hardly can a passionate man bridle so his affections that they appear not. But yet if he be never so passionate, and would but follow a little direction, I think he might, albeit not wholly, yet in great part, avoid the infamy of a passionate person. The way may be thus: in great assemblies, or at such times as most men mark our actions, words, and gestures, then if a man have an occasion of choler, indignation, lust, pride, fear, or such like passion, if he refrain but a little, all those will at least suspect that he permitteth not his passions wholly to overrun him. For all historiographers which 
Basil. in hom. de legend. lib. Gent.  writ of Alexander the great, highly commend his continency; and especially moved with the carriage of himself, when Darius' wife and her daughters were taken prisoners, and subject to his power, they being beautiful, he in the prime of years; yet because he would but scarcely look on them, he won for ever the name of Continency.  
Besides, it were good to dispraise in words before others, that passion thou art most addicted unto; for by so doing thou shalt make men believe in deed, that thou abhorrest much that ●ice; & questionless, if the passion be not too pregnantly known, such words will blemish a great part of men's conceits; for, according to the Italian Proverb:  

Buone parole & cattivi fatti  
Ingannano li savij & li matti.   
That is,  

Words good, and works ill,  
Makes fools and wisemen lose their skill.   
I say not this, because I would have a man to do one thing, and speak another, but that if he cannot but sometime of fragility slide, it may be a good way to recall him again, and not to fall so often, if he speak in dispraise of his own fault; for men will be ashamed to commit often, that they themselves dispraise eagerly: and beside, it repaireth anew his credit, almost cracked with the former passion.  
The third point may be, Not to vex and trouble thyself too much when a passion seizeth upon thee, but diverting thy mind from it, and restraining thy consent as well as thou canst from yielding unto it; and in short time thou shalt see it vanish away: as we prove in daily temptations of ire, sadness, love, lust, and such like, which fall and consume away even by themselves: either because the humour which was moved, returneth to his former seat, or the impression made in the imagination deminisheth, or the attention of the soul distracted with other matters, faileth, or some other passion expelleth it, or the devil ceaseth to tempt; either (I say) all these, or most of them mittigat, consume, and wholly subvert that passion which before so troubled us, and seemed insuperable.  
The fourth point which ought principally to be considered, and well weighed of those whose passions are most vehement and inordinate, is this, that they which perceive in themselves such disordered affections, ought first to know the root of them to be self-love, and the greater they find the boughs of their passions, the greater and deeper root let them be assured lieth hidden under the bottom of their soul: for which cause such men must persuade themselves to have great difficulty to virtue, and extreme facility to vice: that as they love pleasures of the body exceedingly, so they hate all that may hinder or oppose itself thereunto mightily. That they be blinded as bats in their own conceits, apprehending that they love or hate, far differently from that it is in very deed; that they be commonly too rash, attempting greater enterprises than their forces are able to perform, and for the most part more bold than wise, guiding their actions, 〈◊〉 not by reason and judgement, but by harebrain affections: and as they are headlong and obstinate when strong passions possess them, so are they irresolute and inconstant when a weak affection doth move them: for being accustomed to follow their appetites, as long as they continue they persist in one mood; but after the week passion is appeased, their judgements and determinations are changed.  
These men ought to be wonderful wary in their words, and circumspect in their actions, always having themselves suspected: wherefore I would persuade them, first to crave of God help and grace, to overcome so hard a nature: secondly, to confer with wise and discreet men about their own affairs and determinations, rather relying upon them, than their own judgements: which counsel Solomon gave, saying, Fili, ne innitaris prudentiae tuae. Son, be not married to thy 
Prou. 3. 5.  own wisdom. Thirdly, that every day they use some mean to overcome their perverse nature: for as we prove by experience, such men have many crosses and griefs of mind, their company (commonly) all eschew; and to be short, they are a burden to themselves and others; whereas if they would but with a little diligence moderate their passions, as such men be witty and high spirited, so they would be humble and affable; there is no sort of men, whose conversation would be more grateful than theirs: for they be like unto a fa● soil that yieldeth great abundance of what is sown, good or evil, corn or darnel, flowers or weeds.   

Policy in Passion. CHAP. FOUR  
SInce men by nature are addicted to conversation, and one dependeth upon another, therefore it importeth much, to know how to second or cross other men's affections, how we may please or displease them, make them our friends or foes. But because this subject is infinite, I will only set down certain general rules, whereby some small light may be had, how to live and deal with men, to the intent, that love, peace, and charity be conserved: for good Christians ought not only to procure an union with God, but also an amity with men: and the world being green in malice, and withered in goodness, men more guided by passions, than ruled by reason, therefore the wiser ought to provide a salve proportionated to the sore, and means to prevent malice; lest the children of darkness in prudence surpass the children of light, seeing our Master taught us, how the cic of a dove adorneth best the serpent's head.  
The first rule may be this. All men (commonly) are pleased with them, whom they see affected with those passions whereunto they are subject and inclined. This rule, both experience teacheth, and reason proveth. We see that lions, tigers, and leopards, whose inclinations are most cruel, whose passions most fierce, yet one affecteth another and liveth in quiet society, for the similitude of inclinations, and likeliness of passions. Alexander asked a pirate that was taken and brought before him, How he durst be so bold to infest the seas, and spoil the commerceries? he answered, That he played the pirate but with one ship, and his Majesty with a huge navy: the which saying so pleased Alexander, that he pardoned his life, and granted him liberty: so much could the similitude of action transport the king's affection. The reason also of this rule may easily be delivered: because all likeliness causeth love, and as every one judgeth, he doth the best, or at least, approveth well; even so, he cannot disprove, but allow the same in others. Hereupon followeth, that if thou wilt please thy master or friend, thou must apparel thyself with his affections, and love where he loveth, and hate where he hateth: and universally, to soothe other men's humours, plaineth the way to friendship and amity: and as this mean fostereth flattery, if it be abused, so it nourisheth charity, if it be well used.  
Out of this rule we may deduce the second, which ought no less to be observed in conversation than the former, That men commonly hate those whom they know to be of contrary passions: whereupon proceedeth that common Proverb, He that hateth whom I love, how can he love me? for as fire with fire do never jar, so fire and water can never agree. But in the next Book, which shall be of Love, I pretend to discuss better this rule, because, as similitude causeth love, so dissimilitude breedeth hatred. Therefore I omit to declare how sometimes likeliness of passions engendereth contention, as we say, Figulus figulum odit, one potter hateth another; and, Inter superbos semper sunt iurgia; among proud men there are ever brawlings: for if similitude of passions preiudicateth profit, than likeliness of affections causeth dissension.  
The third rule. Be not too credulous to men in their own causes: for as self-love for the most part conceives what appertaineth to ourselves, with a greater show of good and honesty, than indeed the thing carrieth with it; so, men moved therewith, declare the matter as they conceive it: for words spring from conceits, these are the tree, those the flowers and leaves, which do follow by just proportion. Wherefore Alexander did 
Plutarch in Alexand●o.  wisely (as Plutarch recounteth) at the beginning of his reign, by shutting one of his ears with his hand, when he heard any accuser in criminal causes, thereby reserving (as he said) audience for the defendant. Contrariwise, others men's matters, which hinder our profit or cross our designs, for the most part we extenuat and abase. As in Italy once befell to a number of wise men, who heard an Oration, wherein they were all well-nigh persuaded: but the next day came up another Orator, and told a contrary tale, and changed their minds, persuading them all to the other part; for which cause we may adjoin the fourth rule.  
The fourth rule. When you are induced to any thing by act, that is, by a tale well told in Rhetorical manner, flexibility of voice, gestures, action, or other oratorical persuasions; good I hold it a while, for a man to suspend his judgement, and not to permit his will follow too far his motion, more artificial than natural, grounded upon affection rather than reason: For that saying of Isocrates ought well to be weighed, who being demanded, what was Rhetoric; answered, to make great things little, and little, great: wherefore, after Aeschines was 
Erasm. libr. 8. Ap●ph.  banished from Athens, coming to Rhodes he made an Oration to the people in declaration of his cause of exile; they wondered at the Athenians, who had banished him so undeservedly: O quoth he, you did not hear what Demosthenes answered to my reasons; ascribing wholly the cause of his exile, to the force and eloquence of Demosthenes oration. By this example we see proved, that commonly wise Rhetoricians affirm, that Rhetoric in an ill cause, is a two edged sword in the hand of a furious man. Yet I would not by this condemn the faculty of eloquence, which I confess, if it be well used, to be most profitable for the Church and commonweal: but because at this present it is sophisticated, by many, who cover stinking matters with fragrant flowers, and with a few sugared words temper the gall of their pernicious objects; therefore every wise man ought rather to examine the Orator's reasons, than to follow his intent with a seduced affection.  
The fift rule. When men are possessed of a vehement passion, deal not with them by reprehension or indignation, especially in vehement manner, except it be some person that is superior, or in authority, but rather by a mild and soft sort of persuasion. The reason of this rule may well be gathered out of that we have hitherto delivered: for contrary passions breed hatred and dissension, wherefore he that is passionate, will hardly be persuaded by him whom he conceiveth contrary to him: yea often those that at other times were good friends, in time of passions for some such opposition, fall into endless contention; for as we see, when a house in the midst of the street is vehemently inflamed, it were bootless to quench the flame with water, but the best remedy, and commonly practised, is to pull down the next houses, that thereby the lack of foement might diminish the flame●so, him that rageth with anger, hardly you shall appease by wrangling or chiding; but either answer mildly, for Mollis responsio mitigat iram, a soft answer mitigateth anger: or, answer nothing, withdrawing the matter of anger from sight: the same in vehement lust or sadness may be practised, as in the particular Treatises shall be delivered.  
This rule holdeth universally in all those which be our equals, or at the least do not much exceed us in estate, or we them. But if a superior, or a magistrate see his inferior, or subject, vehemently carried in any passion, he may threaten, or reprehend him, because one passion often cureth another: so here the passion of fear may expel the passion of anger, lust, or what else soever tempteth, either to the passionats evil, or any disorder in the commonweal: albeit, if the passion tend not presently to some sin or great offence, better I hold it to defer such reprehensions till the subject be more capable of them.  
The sixth rule. No man ought to be employed to any office, act, or exercise, contrary to his natural passions and inclination. This rule concerneth all sorts of superiors in the employments of their subjects, all parents for the education of their children, schoolmasters for the training up of their scholars. The ground of this rule dependeth of long experience, and reason. For by experience we learn, that men be oftentimes employed to one trade, and never can profit therein: contrariwise, when either they of themselves, or others, do change that course to another, whereunto they were inclined, they become very excellent men. I knew one in Flaunders employed of his friends to be a merchant against his inclination, but he never scarce could abide to deal in merchandise: and so at last therewith awearied, left them, and turned his course to study, wherein he excelled, and became one of the rarest preachers there; I myself heard him preach after, very godly and learnedly: a hundred such examples I could bring you. Reason also proveth the same most manifestly: for three things are required of necessity, to attain to the perfection of any science, cunning, or office; Nature, Art, & practise: Nature affordeth capacity of wit, strength of body, and inclination of mind; the which inclination, if it be lacking, the subject striveth against the stream, and although by force and constraint, nolens, volens, he follow such a trade against his mind, he may peradventure do some thing with great difficulty, the which labour if he had bestowed in that thing whereunto he was inclined, he would have become a most excellent man.  
This rule may not be understood so absolutely, but that it admitteth some limitation; for some contrary inclination or passion proceedeth not from defect of nature, or ability of mind, but from an ill and vicious self-will, or wilfulness: and then it were good with sweetness and enticements to allure such a person to follow that science, art, or trade, whereunto nature most inclineth him. Another exception is, if the impediments of Nature be but small, and the habiliments otherwise great, than the one ought to overrule the other; and after a little labour in overcoming the impediment, will follow a great facility in the achievement of the rest.  
The seventh rule serveth for great persons, who commonly never resist their passions: therefore if a man understand once their inordinate affections, he may be very well assured to have gained much ground in prevailing with them. And therefore we see usually, that if men see such persons addicted to this or that affection, to win their good wills, they will foster up such fancies; if they be delighted in music, they present them with instruments, if in riding with horses, if in hunting with dogs, if in study with literal labours, etc. for by thus feeding their fancies, they win their friendship.  
Finally, there be general hindrances, common to all, or most men, to get virtue and learning, and those aught by diligence and labour to be cut off; for the sweet fruits of virtue spring from bitter roots of mortification, and the praise of learning proceedeth from industry and labour: therefore let no man persuade himself to attain unto any singular cunning, except his labour be singular.  
Many more rules might be here delivered, as that proud men be pleased with praises, honour, and account; discontented with comparisons, with commending their equals, in not yielding them honour, in disparaging their actions. Mild, modest, humble, meek, are beloved universally, because we think them virtuous, who will honour or not contemn us. If thou wouldst obtain any favour, or invite any man to pleasure, it were good to take him at such times as he is merrily disposed, as after meat. If thou wilt induce him to pensiveness, sorrow for his sins, the fear of God, or any sad passion, take him at such times as melancholy most oppresseth him; in dark and cloudy days, in the morning, in Winter, or in fine, at such seasons as that passion reigneth over him. These and many more I could set down, but the order of method requireth they should be allotted to particular Treatises. Wherefore I will conclude this Chapter with this sentence: That as he is imprudent which hath strong passions, and endeavoureth not to conceal them from others, so he may be accounted unpolliticke, who knoweth another man's passions, and cannot prevail against them.    

THE FOURTH BOOK, Wherein is explained, how Passions may be discovered.  

CHAP. I.  
AS by experience men may discover the inclinations of dogs and horses, and other beasts, even so by certain signs wise men may gather the inclinations whereunto other men are subject. I omit here what passions every country inclineth unto: like wise, to what sort melancholy, sanguine, phlegmatic and choleric persons are addicted: for this was insinuated sufficiently above: neither will I handle what sorts of men, passions most overrule; for in the same place this was sufficiently entreated, only I will briefly deliver some means, whereby in particular conversation, every one may discover his fellows natural inclinations, not by philosophical demonstrations, but only by natural conjectures and probabilities, because that wise men mortify their passions, and crafty men dissemble: yet we may for the most part attain unto the knowledge of them, for that most men follow the instinct of Nature, and few, either the precepts of reason, or exquisite craftiness, by which two means passions are concealed. He therefore that desireth to discover an others passions or inclinations, after he hath considered from what country he came; if he be some of those mentioned heretofore, than he may discourse upon him, and withal mark what passions are common to such persons, and after descend to these notes. For that we cannot enter into a man's heart, and view the passions or inclinations which there reside and lie hidden; therefore, as Philosophers by effects find out causes, by proprieties essences, by rivers fountains, by boughs and flowers the kore and roots; even so we must trace out passions and inclinations by some effects and external operations. And these be no more than two, words & deeds, speech and action: of which two, knowledge may be gathered of those affections we carry in our minds: therefore first I will entreat of words, and then of deeds. Words represent most exactly the very image of the mind and soul: wherefore Democritus called speech 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the 
Lacitius.  image of life; for in words, as in a glass may be seen, a man's life and inclination. Wherefore Diogenes 
Idem lib. 6.  wondered that men would not buy earthen pots before they proved by the sound whether they were whole or broken, yet they would be contented to buy men by sight before they proved their speech: Whereupon grew that old proverb, frequented of Socrates and approved of ancient Philosophers, Loquere ut te videam, speak that I may know thee: for passions so swell within the soul, that they must needs have some vent, as Elihu said of himself; Lo, my belly is like to new wine lacking 
job. 32.  a vent, the which breaketh new vessels. Sometimes I have inquired of sundry persons, what they thought of certain men's inclinations; & I found that almost whatsoever they had noted in others, commonly to proceed from one sort of speech or other. Plainly you may perceive, if men's words openly tend to their own commendations, if they brag or boast of their valour in wars, learning, qualities given by nature, or purchased by labour, that they are of a proud disposition: if they discourse lasciviously or shamelessly, questionless what the tongue speaketh, the heart affecteth: if men talk of meat and drink, of ●●●ling and feasting, wishing for this meat, lamenting of that meat, such persons, for most part, addict themselves to gluttony: if they rage with furious words, brawl or wrangle, such carry the conscience of choleric. Thus you may conjecture by words, the passions of the mind, when the speech manifestly carrieth the coat of pride, choler, lust, or gluttony. But many there be more wise than to commit such notorious errors, and blaze their imperfections to the eyes of the world: therefore we must sound out a little further, and wade something deeper into a certain secret survey of men's speeches, to see if we may discover some more hidden passions. And this, either in the manner, or matter of speech.  

Much talk.  
He that talketh and prattleth too much, both by profane and holy Writers, is accounted unwise or rather foolish. Hereupon came those voices, Totum spiritum suum profert stultus, The fool putteth 
Pro. 29. 11.  forth all his spirit: but Sapiens differt, & reseruat in posterum, A wise man deferreth and reserveth it for afterwards. And beneath, Vidisti hominem velocem ad loquendum? stultitia magis speranda est quam illius correptio. Hast thou seen a man prone to speak? foolishness is 
Verse. 20.  rather to be expected than his amendment. Wherefore fools carry their hearts in their mouths, wise men their mouths in their hearts: for fools speak, and then deliberate; but wisemen first deliberat with reason, and then speak with circumspection. By this may be gathered the reason why janglers & praters deserve to be registered in the catalogue of fools, because many fancies come into men's minds, & he that will pour forth all he conceiveth, delivereth dregs with drink; and as for the most part, presently men apprehend more folly than wisdom, so he that suddenly uttereth all he understandeth, blabbeth forth more froth than good liquor: and thus, much speech and hasty, proceedeth from rash foolishness: the which passion reigneth, for the most part, in young men, women, and doting proud old age. Therefore Theocritus said, that Anaximines' had a flood of words 
Stob. serm. 34.  and a drop of reason: For if you descant upon some long tale or discourse of theirs, you shall find them as void of matter, as prodigal in words. The cause hereof I take to be their lack of judgement; for whatsoever occurreth to their minds concerning any matter, they think such conceits, as they are new to them, so they should be to others; whereas in very deed other better wits reject and contemn them: wherefore the leaves of loquacity spring from the root of small capacity.   

Taciturnity.  
SOme contrariwise be of too little speech, the which taciturnity, although it repugneth to modesty, which standeth betwixt these two extremes, yet commonly wise men account this extreme more secure; for many words almost ever offend, but silence very rarely: and therefore the Philosophers say, that he which will learn to speak, ought first to learn to hold his peace. This silence may proceed sometimes of sottishness, because a man knows not how to reason, and so you see clowns, or dull persons, not able to speak in a wise company. Sometimes of fear, as I have known a most excellent rhetorician in writing, yet most unable in speaking, for the presence of his auditors did exceedingly affright him. Others use it for prudence & policy, because in conservation, when men either would conceal their own affections, or discover others; prudence and policy require a space of silence, because the wisest man in the world, if he talk long and much, without premeditation, will hardily keep close his passions from discreet hearers.   

Slowness in speech.  
SOme sorts of men speak very slowly, and so leisurely, that a cart of hay might pass almost betwixt one word and another; the which manner of speech, is very loathsome and tedious to their auditors, and especially to some quick spirits intolerable. This linger may proceed from some impediment of the instruments of speaking, a slowness of conceiving, or a certain vain conceit that men have of their own wisdom, the which they would distill into other men, drop by drop, as water falleth from the Limbeck; for they think, if they do utter their words faster, they should spill some of their prudence. And indeed, among dull persons of slow capacity, I think it not far amiss; except they linger so long, that before their ending, they forget their beginning: but amongst persons of good understanding, it argueth, either slowness of wit, or contempt of their understanding, and it cannot be but marvelous molestfull unto them, like as if a man were extremely thirsty, and one should give him drink by drops, which manner of delivery cannot but grieve him, although the drink be never so excellent: even so, men of quick capacity have a sharp appetite, and would be presently satisfied, wherefore long linger in speech hindereth greatly their natural inclination and desire. Yet for all this I must confess, that in some majestical and very grave persons, whose prudence and wisdom men much admire, few words pithy and leisurely spoken, argue both wisdom, gravity, and magnanimity, as afterwards in the passion of boldness shall be declared.   

Rashness in speech.  
AS some men slide into slothfulness, and linger too much in their words, so others fall into a greater extremity of rashness and precipitation. These 
job. 32.  may well be compared to new wine, that by venting bursteth the bottle? these be foolish mouths which 
Prover. 15.  ever bluster forth follies: these bear words in their mouths, as dogs arrows shot in their thighs, the which 
Ecclesi. 19  so trouble, toss and turmoil them, that they never can be quiet till they be drawn forth: even so rash men in speech, have an arrow in their tongues, they never rest till they have uttered their minds. Such commonly are with child with their own conceits, and either they must be delivered of them, or they must die in childbed. I have seen some of these men of very fine wits, but not settled judgements, they excel in apprehension, but fail in discretion; if they could stay themselves, and moderate a little their natural fury and hastiness, these would become very rare men: but for the most part, those I dealt withal of this constitution, I have found to follow their own inclination, and so with many good things they utter many follies, yea many pernicious conceits, and often dangerous; because, as they apprehend in every matter, many things, and pass beyond the common reach of ordinary wits, so they without discretion, blab out good or bad, right or wrong, dangerous or not dangerous, and utter what they conceive, without judgement, discourse, or reason: wherefore such men may well be called witty, but not wise. These also easily contemn others, they are very hot in what they apprehend, and self-love adjoineth an account of their credit, and so rendereth (them obstinate in their own opinions. This effect, in fine, proceedeth from lack of judgement, a proud conceit of their own conceits, a bold, hot and rash affection: and in fine, they often change their purposes, and alter their determinations.   

Affectation in speech.  
SOme have a peculiar manner of parley, they speak in print, hunt after metaphors, coin phrases, and labour extremely that their words may smell of subtility, elegancy, and neat delivery, in such affected sort, that for the most part, they leave nothing behind them, but a sent of foolish affectation and verbal pride. These may well be compared to certain birds which sing well, yet carry no flesh upon their backs, but are as lean as carrion: they are not unlike strumpets, who veil diseased carcases under rich attire. Amongst a thousand you shall scarce find one ripe in judgement, or sound in conceit: these men do spend their time and studies, to find out new phrases, and that which they conceived with great labour they utter with extreme difficulty, they stammer often, and commit many discords, if they continue long in discourse; for the most part, their Epilogue consorteth not with their Exordium. If they pen any thing to be presented unto the view of the world, you shall ever have one new coined word or other which never saw light before it issued out of the mint of their imagination, and it will beseem them as well as a peacocks feather a fools cap. I heard once one of these worthy parolists who had got by the end the word intricat; he coming among as wise men as himself, told them, that such a gentleman and he did bear most intricat love one to another: he would have said entire. Another had got the word expostulat, and he imagined it was to require, and so he requested a friend of his, to expostulat a certain favour at his lords hands in his behalf. This affectation in speech proceedeth from a most vain and notorious pride; the which no man (almost) will deny that converseth with such sorts of persons: for if you demand any of their acquaintance, what opinion they hold of such men; no other answer they can yield you, than that their words smell of presumption and arrogance. I cannot moreover excuse most of these persons from certain effeminate affections, because such speeches especially were invented to tickle women and gallants ears, that by alluring words they might win the credit of witty, and so beguile the weaker minds. These enameled speakers, for the most part, condemn others as barbarous and ignorant, because they frame not their speeches according to their humours: yea they will pass further, and despise all Authors who affect not in writing, that they frequent in prating. And I myself have heard some of them, as presumptuously as ignorantly, censure most profound Doctors, yea and call them dunces and dolts, because they either could not, or would not deliver their conceits after the others customary follies.   

Scoffing speeches.  
Certain men entertain their company with scoffing, nipping, gibing, and quipping: they think to have won a great victory, if in discovering some others defect, they can make the company laugh merrily: they will seem to make much of you, but the embracements of scorpions follow stinging tails. This scoffing proceedeth from some, of mere simplicity and foolishness, as common jesters, and therefore wise men weigh not such follies: others jest for recreation without harm, with no other intention, but only to be merry: but those which especially ought to be marked, and their company eschewed, so quip and nip, that they principally pretend to discredit, or shame those persons at whom they jest: and this scoffing manner is most malicious, and it proceedeth from pride and envy, because, either they would contemn others, or else make men not have so good a conceit as they had before. And thus much concerning the manner of speech: As for the matter and object of talk, much might be said, but I will abridge the matter as briefly as I can.   

Discovery of passions in the matter of talk.  
IF (as I said in the beginning of this chapter) men talk openly of such subjects as manifestly show the excess of some passion; no man can call in question, but that such men are addicted to such passions: yet for that some (as I there set down) carry themselves more wisely, we must look into their demeanour more narrowly.   

Disputation above the speakers capacity.  
SOme men will dispute, or rather wrangle about matters exceeding their capacity, as a Cobbler of Chivalry, a Tailor of Divinity, a Farmer of Physic, a Merchant of Martial affairs: and in fine, a number of men will meddle with those matters, which either surpass their capacity, or at the least, they understand not, for lack of exercise, study, or practise. Sometimes I have heard these bachelors hold talk so wilfully and obstinately, in matters of Philosophy and Divinity, with such gross errors and absurdities, that any wise man would either have despised them for malapert and contentious, or else have registered them in the predicament of fools.  
And without all question, this manner of speech, or wrangling, or let us call it disputation, cannot but proceed from great ignorance and arrogancy: for no wise man will contend in such matters as he knoweth not. Whereupon came that saying of Aristotle; Every man ought to be credited in his Art: and that other common proverb; Let not the cobbler pass his pantofle. For confirmation hereof, I will bring no better argument than every man's common experience. There is no man (I think) but commonly he apply himself to one thing or other, this trade or that, some study or art: as for example, a Printer, or a Goldsmith; if another man ignorant of his art, should come and dispute with him, and condemn him, because he useth such and such instruments, this or that manner of working; he would laugh, and account him ignorant, as one that speaketh rather by chance than cunning, and hold him for more bold than wise: so questionless let these men assure themselves, that if they dispute of that they know not, they must be accounted presumptuous, although they would not. Neither for this I disallow some good wits, to propound their difficulties which occur in matters wherein they are not practised; as for Lawyers in Divinity, Physicians in Law, and Divines in Physic, especially to such men as commonly are accounted learned in those faculties; yet not to contend much, because the further they pass forward, the harder it will be for them to wind out again. This rule admitteth some exception; for I have known Divines very good Physicians, and Lawyers not altogether ignorant of Divinity, yea and Physicians practised in them both; in such cases oftentimes those of one profession may excel those of another: but this I hold for very rare, because, he that employeth his wit to many sciences, commonly cannot be excellent in any. Wherefore men that be unlearned, but discreet, either will not move any questions in such matters as pass beyond the sphere of their capacities, or else in such sort, as they rather intent to learn than to contend. But what shall a man do when he falleth in company with these wranglers, who neither are able to propound a difficulty; nor capable of a good and solid answer? Questionless, it is a most molestfull life to live in conversation with such idiots: yet the best course I can find with them is by some palpable absurdity to reduce them to an open ignorance, as once befell a friend of mine, that talked with a vain puritan (who vaunted he understood all the word of God:) well than quoth the other, I will prove by God's word you may not eat a black pudding; for we have commanded by the holy Ghost and the Apostles in the 15. of the Acts, that we should abstain from eating of blood and strangled meats, now sir this precept is here set down and commanded to be kept, where have you in all the scripture a warrant to transgress it? The silly fellow was brought to such an extremity, as I think this argument was the best lesson that ever he learned in his life, to curb his own presumptuous ignorance.   

Spirit of Contradiction.  
SOme men in speech are possessed with the spirit of Contradiction, and opposition; for they will show themselves in company, able to control, and gainsay other men's opinions: because than they suppose the victory gotten, when they crow over their companions. Such conversation cannot but displease the company, those persons being a burden to their fellows: for as every man liketh his own opinion, and desireth it should be approved, so all men mislike those that contradict them, and hold for false that they delivered for true. This contradictious speech lieth rooted in vainglory, which spreadeth her branches in other men's minds, by despising that they approve: and I think no better remedy can be used, to amend such a sort of people, than that a gentleman used in Spain to a gentlewoman that did malapertly chide with him, Go your ways (said he) whether you have right or wrong, I know you must have the last word: and so I hold him wise, who can smooth up his talk, and leave such quarrelling and contentious spirits with the last word. Howbeit sometimes they are tamed with as froward fellows as they are themselves, who will as fast contradict them as they contradicted others. I would also advise this sort of contradictors to eschew this defect, in regard of their own credit, lest accustoming themselves so oft to contradictions, they fall not into defence of many absurdities, and so, for lack of reason, and too much pertinacy, they lose their reputation. True it is, that among civil gentlemen and elevated spirits, it will often chance that there will arise in conversation, a certain diversity of opinion, and one must consequently oppose his judgement against another: Wherefore in such a case, the opposer ought so to propound his reason, that he rather seemeth to desire to know the truth, than to triumph or insult over the other. The which he may the better perform, if he utter no word of contempt, if he be not very violent in vehemency of voice or action, if he make good the others reason as far as it will extend and bring the matter in conclusion to a certain reconciliation, or manner of speech, or some such qualification.   

Special matters.  
TO discover a man's passions, much helpeth the manner of his speech, but I think, more the matter: for affection to any thing, if it be vehement, must break forth. Men that be unwise, commonly speak of frivolous & base matters; vicious men of one or other sort of vice; grave and wise men of serious & profound matters; and if they descend to some lower subject, either they pass it over very slightly, or therein touch some point so wittily, that ex unguibus, you may know him a lion. Some men talk much of themselves, and as it were glancing at their own commendation, and by little and little insinuating their own praises: or if they be commended, presently you shall see them puffed up, and swelling with a vain pleasure and delight they have conceived of themselves. But you will perhaps demand of me by the way, What if a man should commend me, or any thing appertaining unto me, how ought I carry myself? If I accept the praise, I shall be accounted proud; if I deny it, not to be so, I shall seem to reprehend the praiser, and condemn him for a liar or a flatterer. In such a case, because it occurreth daily, therefore good it were, to foresee and provide an answer presently. As Alfonsus' king of Arragon answered an Orator, who had recited a long panegyrical Oration of his praises; the king said 
Panorm. lib. 1. de reb. gest. Alfons.  to him: If that thou hast said consenteth with truth, I thank God for it; if not, I pray God grant me grace that I may do it. Or else a wise man may say, This praise I deserve not, but your affection bettereth my actions: or, You by good nature and love rather mark the little good I do, than many defects therein committed: or, The spectacles of love forceth you to censure all my imperfections in good part. By this means you shall avoid a certain vain complacence in your own doings, which offendeth much those who are given to censure your actions, neither shall you rudely deny that, your friend of courtesy affirmeth to be true.   

Concealing and revealing of secrets.  
AS some are so secret, that they never will open any thing, almost, touching their own affairs; so others contrarily are so simple and blabbish, that they discover many of their conceits and matters, especially concerning themselves, to any man, almost at the first meeting. The former, commonly, are crafty, because friendship requireth some communication in secrets, principally, if he be an especial friend: yet this offence may well be tolerated in this mischievous world, and declining age, wherein profit is prized, and friendship despised; or at least, men love men more for their own interest, than for virtue. Therefore, if thou be wise, trust no man with that thou wouldst not have publicly known, except he be a tried friend by long experience, yea, although he be thy friend: but vicious (if amongst vicious persons there may be true friendship) assure thyself, that by opening to him thy mind, thou hast half revealed publicly thine own secret: for such persons usually (if they be young men, women, or of a very ill behaviour) be unwise, blabbish, and most indiscreet in their speeches: beside, their love being grounded in proper interest of pleasure and gain, when these by chance or displeasure shall fail, then persuade thyself, that all they know shall be revealed, because such imprudent persons suppose that friendship once being dissolved, they are not bound any more, either to keep secret, or conserve thy credit, and so with one breath they blow all away. Wherefore I take it for a general rule, that a man should reserve his secrets of importance, either to himself; or not to manifest them, but only to honest & virtuous friends, lest it befall unto him as happened to three students in a college where I lived some years. It chanced a person of some authority there, wrote to the superior of the College, a letter in discommendation of those three students, all being men in age, & good Scholars: this letter was shown by the superior, to one of these three; yet because it concerned not so much himself, as the other two, he marked not well the contents thereof: the superior gave him straight order, that he should in no case reveal it to the other two; he promised, but performed it not, for presently he signified to them both as much as he remembered: the one of them being touched something to the quick, presently devised a way how to come by the letter; and in fine, secretly got a sight of it by a certain deceit: he signified to both the others the contents thereof, yet being sharply pricked therewith, he fell into a chase with the person that had written the letter, and spared not to signify as much to the superior, who wondered how he came by the contents thereof. After a little while, he which wrote the letter, came to the College, and hearing how the person which chafed in that extreme manner, had gotten intelligence of the letter, (because he was one of some authority) he called him which first had revealed the matter; who swore, that he never had uttered any such words, but indeed that the other had by a stratagem gotten knowledge of the letter: then the person which wrote the letter called him that so wililie had found it forth, and (although he had sworn, never to discover that the other had revealed unto him) presently he signified all the matter unto him, and he then against his promise, revealed the sum unto the person in authority, of the other; and thus all three broke their promises and their oaths, by revealing of secrets. Who that knew these men, would scarcely have believed, that any such errors could by them have been committed; but by this experience (because I was privy to all their dealings) I got occasion, to suspect falsehood in fellowship, to try ere I trusted; and finally, thought none more secret than a man to himself: for many hearts must have many breathe; and few can conceal from their friends any secret, when their friends reveal some secrets unto them: and for that almost there liveth none so barren of friendship, but he hath ●●me whom he trusteth, therefore hardly from him he can keep secret his own heart, and what his friends revealed unto him.   

Feigned secrets.  
YOu have another sort of men, whom you may call, cousining friends: for in show they pretend friendship, but in effect, cozenage or flattery. They will come to you very seriously, and deliver a smooth tale in secret, and conjure you, that in no case you should reveal it: you promise and perform it, but your friend will not keep that secret, for he presently, when your back is turned, will do as much to another, the second, and third; and so in fine, you shall have that public which was conceived for secret. This cozenage proceedeth from craftiness, and dissembling friendship, because true friendship admitteth not many to communication in secrets. It may also spring from a lavishing and too open a mind, for that indeed such a person cannot conceal any thing in his heart from such as do seem (in some sort) to be addicted to his friendship. I have known divers great persons subject to this passion, but afterwards greatly crossed thereby, for those which once perceived their humours, would never keep close any of their secrets, and so by their policy they gained a reward like unto liars, who though they say truth are not believed; even so, such coiners of secrets have not their secrets concealed, although they speak secrets indeed: and one speaking of such a person said, he revealed secrets to the whole city: as who should say, he sold his secrets publicly and the wiser sort would laugh in their sleeves to hear him speak of secrecy.   

Sowers of dissension.  
OTher men more maliciously pretend friendship, and use strange dealing, either to make friends, or to breed dissension: some I have found of such an humour, that if they see two converse familiarly together and one to affect much another, they, under colour of amity, will go secretly and reveal to the one of them, what they know, or hear, or that the other person his friend, secretly spoke or wrought to his discredit; yea, divers things they will relate, by their own malice invented, as by his friend discovered: yet this they will not deliver, but under an oath, that he should not detect them to the other, whereby he of simplicity often revealeth all he knew of his friend, because he believed his friend in very deed had betrayed him; whereas, for the most part, all was but a bait, forged to catch the silly simple soul. Presently after, they convent the other, whom in secret they tell all they had fished out of his friend, in his dispraise, and so learn what they can of the other, charging him withal, in no case to manifest that he heard to the other. This stratagem I know many politic superiors to have frequented, and some persons of great policy, but of most small conscience. Because this wicked invention proceedeth from a most malicious uncharitable, and envious mind, which hateth the peace and concord of friends; it argueth also, a crafty politic wit, apt to sift out other men's actions: for he casteth the poor man into an inextricable labyrinth: for forcing him to swear, he cannot examine whether his friend spoke so ill of him, or no; lest by the notice thereof he should incur the crime of perjury: neither can he tollerat in his mind, that his friend should so notoriously abuse him: wherefore he resolveth himself, either wholly to break friendship, or at least, not to use his friend so familiarly as before.  
But how shall a man behave himself in such a case? At the beginning when he telleth thee thy friends defects, excuse them, supposing the relator to be ill informed, or that he mistook thy friend; for true friendship requireth, that a friend should in all cases (when evidently the concrary is not convinced) defend the good name and estimation of his friend; and thereby the sour of dissension, shallbe frustrated of his intention.  
Much more I could deliver about this subject, but to wise men it sufficeth to show the way, & they will follow further than I can direct them: simple men, for as much as I can see, must first try & then trust; for their rule lieth in experience and practise, more than in reading and speculation: because their own harms, or their neighbours must school them, for few are capable for practical rules in universal, or at least, they can not apply them to particular subjects.    

The discovery of passions by external actions. CHAP. II.  
THe internal conceits and affections of our minds, are not only expressed with words, but also declared with actions: as it appeareth in Comedies, where dumb shows often express the whole matter, and by gestures in dancing some can give to understand most mechanical arts and 
Calius Rhodiginus lib. 5. c. 3.  trades. The rhetoricians likewise do not content themselves with the simple pronunciation of their Orations, but also prescribe many rules of action, the which they hold so much the better, how much more lively it representeth the conceits and affections of the mind, because that both thorough the ears and the eyes of their auditors, they intent to imprint them in their souls the deeper: for indeed, words and actions spring from the same root, that is, understanding and affections: and as leaves, flowers, and fruit declare the virtues of trees, so words and actions the qualities of minds. And as if the fruit or flowers be corrupted or vicious, we know the root must be infected: so if men's words or actions be disconsorted, doubtless the soul cannot be well disposed; for, as one said well, A troubled Fountain yeedeth unpure water, & an infected soul, vicious actions, Plutarch in Moralib.  
In many external actions may be discovered internal passions, as in playing, feasting, going, drinking, praising, appareling, conversing, and writing. Somewhat I will note of each one in particular, remitting the rest to the Readers diligent consideration: for to entreat of all, would exceed the sphere of my project; & by discoursing of these few, wise men may pass forward with the rest.  

I. Discovery of Passions in play.  
PLay pregnantly proveth passions: for pride, choler, and covetousness, commonly wait upon great gamesters. Some, when they lose, are so inflamed with ire and choler, that you would take them rather for bedlams than reasonable creatures; they swear, curse, and cry; every word spoken against them, sufficeth to pick a quarrel, or deserveth (in their judgements) a buffet. This inordinate behaviour argueth, first blindness and folly; for if you ask them with whom they are offended, they themselves cannot show you: not with themselves, for that were madness; with the dice? and that were as great folly; with fortune? but that is nothing: therefore we must conclude, that they (in such fits) are fools, and brawl with the very air.  
Besides, these chafing players, play not for recreation, but for gain; they use company, more for covetousness than for honesty; because, they would not fret so much at their losing, if they affected not too much the winning: and in very deed they abuse the nature of play, the which was given as a medicine to recreate men's afflicted minds: but these, preposterously rather afflict the mind, & make it a poison: for they are so anxious in themselves, and many fear so much to lose, that as soon as a little sum is drawn from them, you could hardly discern whether the heart were more vexed with grief, or the tongue defiled with oaths. I would truly that in every commonweal princes should punish all persons, that play greater games than their ability doth afford; for I take such sorts of exercises to be most pernicious, for many reasons, to the state; and I think the punishment meetest for them, should be, that it were lawful to beg them for Wards, and give them tutors, because they lack discretion to use their money. Rarely you find great players, that carry not proud minds, who if they win, they vaunt of gain, if they lose, they do brag of loss: as a Spaniard in a bravado, thought he deserved great commendation, because he was able one night to lose ten thousand crowns at dice.  
Others, in play show likewise their passions, albeit they exceed not much the lawful quantity requisite to recreation, yet they carry a secret pride, & vehement desire to win, because they would not be inferior to others, even so much as in play: wherefore, if any cast come cross unto them, they will chafe as much for a penny, as another man for a pound. These men questionless have some little shrubs of pride and vanity: for although the most pleasure in play consisteth in the victory; yet to affect it too much, to wrangle, to chafe, to fret therefore, argueth an unmortified affection, the which wise men ought to overcome, because such passions are in very deed childish, and undecent for grave persons.  
Some men wholly consecrat themselves to play, either you shall have them at dice, cards, bowls, or some such game. These, as unprofitable members, deserve to be cut from the body of every good commonweal; for what wise man would tollerat a servant in his house, which did nothing but eat, drink, and play? They weigh little their souls, for if they did, doubtless they would spend better their time, because it seemeth that they were rather created to play than to labour, addicting themselves more to the pleasures of the body, than to the service of the soul, and most like bruit beasts follow the inordinate appetite of sense, more than the right rule of reason. These actions proceed from a soul altogether deprived of virtue, and replenished with vice, which better may be named brutish than reasonable.  
By this it appeareth, that those that are addicted much to play, are sensual, chafers in play are covetous, great gamesters are foolish: the first getteth base pleasure, the second gaineth great vexation, the last winneth poverty: all seem to love themselves; but doubtless, all hate their souls: I say, they seem to love their bodies, but indeed they are most cruel enemies, for they are butchers which feed their calves for slaughter; they are fishers, who cast a golden hook with a little alluring bait, to catch the fishes for the frying pan; they cherish their bodies with a moment of pleasure, after to be punished with an eternity of pain. To play too earnestly doth argue pride, covetousness, choler, or folly: to play too carelessly, troubleth good company, & carrieth some spark of contempt: not to play at all, proceedeth either from extreme holiness, gravity, hypocrisy, or insensibility. Therefore in game use the golden mean, play not too much, nor too seriously, nor to great game; take it as medicines, use some attention, play for a trifle.   

II. Discovery of Passions in feasting.  
GReat feasters and gullars cannot but be subject to many vices: First, lechery springeth from gluttony, because, as their seats are near by situation, so they are subordinat in operation; gluttony is the forechamber of lust, and lust the inner room of gluttony; therefore all disorders and tumults raised in the former, presently are perceived in the latter. The superfluities of gluttony are norishments to lechery, and great repasts swim under the froth of lust: wherefore, not without reason said some, Sine Cerere & Baccho friget Venus: Lust faileth where good cheer wanteth: and (almost) it is impossible that he should be continent in mind, that accustometh to gormandize his belly. But I know some will demand, In what consisteth this gluttony? whereunto I answer, That gluttons think, talk, and earnestly procure to have great cheer, dainty dishes; they eat more than nature requireth; at the table they will have the best; and in fine, the easiest rule to perceive them, is to note their care and anxity to far daintily, to feast often, and therein to delight much.  
Gluttovie causeth, not only lechery, but also blockishness, and dullness of wit. Pinguid venture non generat subtilem sensu, say the Grecians; A fat belly engendereth not a subtle wit▪ for as if a man were drowned in a puddle of mire, he could not perceive the light of the Sun; even so, a soul drowned in meat, fat, and blood, cannot behold the light of God: because, as Saint Basil noteth, 
Basil. in ser. de Ie●unio.  when a cloud is interposed betwixt our eyes and the Sun, it hindereth the light from us: even so there riseth from a gluttonous stomach, a multitude of vapours to the brain, which causeth such a mist before the eyes of the soul, that she cannot possibly speculate any spiritual matters, concerning herself, or the glory God. Hereupon followeth a rule to be marked, That such men, in the heat of their gulling feasts overshoot themselves extremely, and the excess of feeding venteth forth in superfluous speaking: for the wit being a little distempered with fumes, the tongue breaketh forth into indiscreet words, and often they utter so much in that foolish vain, that afterwards costeth them both grief and pain: whereas a discreet man, observing them in such humours, might get great advantage, and reap no small commodity.  
Many more crooked branches spring from this stem of gluttony and feasting: for hardly at such times they can conceal secrets: upon a full paunch commonly waiteth slothfulness, sleep, and ease, and except his stock be good, it will soon be spent: beside, great fare breedeth many diseases, for as abundance of dung engendereth abundance of vermin; so, abundance of meat, abundance of filthy thoughts, and pernicious maladies: forgluttonie must be the nurse of Physicians, since, Plures occidit gula quam gladius.   

III. Discovery of Passions in drinking.  
SVperfluitie of meat, causeth dullness of mind; but superfluity of drink, bereaveth men of wit: for as I have seen in some hospitals of mad men, sundry differences of mandnesse, so I have found not unlike humours of drunkenness; for some are merry mad, some melancholy mad, some furious, others fainting: so in drunkenness, some you shall have merry drunk, others dead drunk, others raging, others casting.  
The Passions from whence this vice proceedeth, and whereunto it leadeth, are many: Drunkenness groweth of intemperance, and causeth lust and unclean talk: Nolite (saith the Scripture) inebriari vino in quo est luxuria, 
Ehes. 5. 18.  Be not drunk with wine, wherein is lechery. Drunkenness bereaveth men of reason, and for the present time maketh mad.  
To drunkards commit no secrets, for experience hath taught us, that many have revealed most secret matters when they were drunk; for hardly he can keep thy secret, who cannot keep his own wit. I hear in high Germany, that parents will see men drunk before they marry their daughters unto them, because they will know to what kind of drunkenness they are subject; and according to the good or ill qualities (if a drunkard can have good qualities) they judge him convenient or not for their marriages. There is (almost) no passion in these men that you shall not discover in their drunkenness, because that reason being buried in them, they rule themselves wholly by inordinate appetites and sensitive apprehension, which cannot conceal at such time, the very dregs of their passions. And therefore to conclude, drunkards have little fear of God, they hurt their bodies, they dull their wits, they clog the soul with vices, they spend their substance, they spoil the commonweal, one devouring more than would suffice for three or four: and finally, they are never to be trusted with any secret matter; for I hold him for a simple man, that cannot sound a drunkard's soul, even to the bottom.   

FOUR Discovery of Passions in gesture.  
THis subject is very ample, and would require almost a whole book: but I will only touch superficially some chief points. The gestures of the body may be reduced unto these heads; motions of the eyes, pronunciation, managing of the hands and body, manner of going.  
A rolling eye, quick in moving, this way, and that way, argueth a quick, but a light wit, a hot choleric complexion, with an unconstant and impatient mind: in a woman, it is a sign of great immodesty and wantonness. The reason hereof I take to be, for that such quickness proceedeth from abundance of hot spirits, which cause good apprehension, but because they are not corrected by modesty, and virtue, it seemeth the subject letteth them range, according to their natural inclination, which tendeth to quickness and lightness.  
Heavy dull eyes proceed from a dull mind and hard of conceit, for the contrary reason: therefore we see all old persons, sick men, and phlegmatic, slow in turning their eyes.  
Eyes much given to winking, descend from a soul subject to fear, because it argueth a weakness of spirits, and a feeble disposition of the eyelids.  
To stare fixly upon one, either cometh from blockishness, as in rustics; impudency, as in malicious persons; prudence, when from those in authority; incontinency in women.  
Who open their eyes, and extend them much, commonly be simple men, but of a good nature.  
Eyes inflamed and fiery, are the native brood of choler and ire: quiet and peaceable, with a certain secret grace and mirth, are children of love and friendship.  

In Voice.  
THere came a man to Demosthenes, desiring his help to defend his cause, and told him how one had beaten him: Demosthenes answered him again, saying, I do not believe this to be true thou tellest 
Plutar●. in De●ost.  me, for surely the other did never beat thee. The plaintiff then thrusting out his voice aloud, said; What, hath he not beaten me? Yes indeed, quoth Demosthenes, I believe it now, for I hear the voice of a man that was beaten indeed: whereby we may see how he conjectured, by the loudness of his voice, the just indignation of his mind: For indeed, men in ire and wrath, show, by their pronunciation, the flame which lodgeth in their breasts. Wherefore Cato gave counsel, That soldiers in the war should terrify their enemies with vehement voices and cries. A small trembling voice proceedeth from fear, and such an one commonly have 
Plutarc. in Ro. Apoph.  great Orators, or at least, it were good they should have, in the beginning of their Orations, for thereby they win a certain compassion and loving affection of their auditors. Much more might be said of this subject, but for that it concerneth specially physiognomy, and natural constitution of the organs and humours of the body, therefore I will omit it.   

Managing of the hands and body.  
IN discoursing, to use no gestures, argueth slowness; too much gesticulation cometh of lightness: mediocrity proceedeth from wisdom and gravity; and if it be not too quick, it noteth magnanimity. Some men you have always fiddling about their garments, either prying for moths, binding of garters, pulling up their stockings, that scarcely when they go to bed they are appareled: this proceedeth from a childish mind, and void of conceits: and if you deal with men in company, it also showeth a little contempt of those with whom you converse, because it seemeth you little attend what they say.  
Some cast their heads, now hither, now thither, as wanton as lightly, which springeth from folly & inconstancy. Others scarce think they do pray, except they wry and wrest their necks; which, either cometh of hypocrisy, superstition, or foolishness. Some gaze upon themselves, how proper bodies they bear, how neat and proportioned legs sustain them, and in fine, almost are enamoured of themselves; so they are pleased with their own persons: but this gesture displeaseth commonly, and proceedeth from pride and vain complacence in going.  
To walk majestically (that is, by extending thy legs forth, and drawing thy body back, with a slow and stately motion) in all men's judgement usually issueth from a proud mind, and therefore deserveth dispraise, except in a Prince, a General of an army, or a Soldier in in the sight of his enemies; because this manner of pasing showeth an ostentation of the mind, and that a man would set forth himself above others: which sort of vaunting, few can tollerat, because they can hardly suffer, that men should so far enhance themselves above others.  
To trip, to jet, or any such light pace, cometh of lightness and pride, because such persons seem to take delight, that others should behold their singular sort of going. Fast going becometh not grave men; for as philosophers hold, a slow pace showeth a magnanimous mind: and if necessity requireth not, a light pace argueth a light mind, because thereby we know how the spirits are not sufficiently tempered & bridled; whereupon followeth lightness of body and inconstancy of mind.    

V Discovery of passion in Praising.  
I (Almost) never knew man discontented to hear his own praise, and few there be who can tollerat to be dispraised: wise men doubt with Antisthenes the Philosopher, that when wicked men praise them, they have committed some error; and rejoice with Hector to be praised of virtuous men for their good endeavours. It were wisdom, not to praise any man exceedingly, but especially before a multitude, for that good men change their estates. What Emperor, in the beginning, was better than Nero? and who, in the end, more vicious? Solomon surpassed all his predecessors in wisdom, yet afterwards fell into extreme folly. Wherefore it were wisdom to use superlatives very rarely, and say, such a man is virtuous, but not most virtuous. So therefore praise good men, that thou reserve a caveat for their errors. Besides, commonly proud men cannot abide their equals should much be commended, for the praise of the one obscureth the glory of the other; & as I have observed by experience, they either openly, or secretly will seek to disgrace him and discover some defects, the which impeacheth more his credit than your commendation advanceth his reputation, because that men be more prone to conceive ill than good of others: therefore one said wisely, Calumniare semper aliquid haeret, speak evil, for ever some thing remaineth: that is, either a full persuasion, or a sinister suspicion. Some men, when they have done any thing worthy of praise, they either like hens go cackling in regard of their new laid egg, that is, blazing their own works; or endeavour by secret insinuation, or gross industry, that others should commend them: as the Italian Poet did, who having made an Epigram which much pleased his fancy, showed it to some of his friends, praising it about the Skies: they presently demanded, who was the Author? then he for very shame of pride, would not tell them that it was his, but with a fliering countenance well gave them to understand, that the verses and the laughter were cousin germans, and both issued from the same proud heart. In those Nations I have dealt with all this secret passion: an itching humour of affecting praise, especially reigneth among the Spaniards; for if a man will not publicly praise their doings, they hold him to make little account of them, to be uncivil, or perhaps their enemy. ●● this we may gather a very good rule to discover passion●●or if that you see one much to please himself with others praises, and (as it were) to feed upon the wind of men's words; doubt not but self-love and vanity possess the best tenement of his heart: And this you may know, if the person praised, either openly confess it, underhand insinuat it, or as it were with a smiling countenance silently approve it: for as gold is tried by fire, so a man by the mouth of a praiser.   

VI Discovery of Passions in Apparel.  
EXtraordinary apparel of the body, declareth well the apparel of the mind: for some you have so inconstant in their at tire, that the variety of their garments pregnantly proveth the sickleness of their heads: for they are not much unlike to Stage-players, who adorn themselves gloriously like Gentlemen, then like clowns, after, as women, then like fools, because the fashion of their garments maketh them resemble these persons. And truly the Frenchmen and Englishmen, of all Nations, are (not without some good cause) noted and condemned of this lightness, the one for inventing, the other for imitating; in other things we think them our inferiors, & herein we make them our masters: and some I have heard very contemptuously say, That scarcely a new form of breeches appeared in the French kings kitchen, but they were presently translated over into the Court of England. This newfangleness proceedeth from an inconstant mind, a proud heart, and an effeminate affection. Augustus Caesar had always in hatred, rich and gorgeous garments, because he said they were 
Sueton.  banners blazing our pride, and nests to breed lechery. Wherefore Saint Gregory plainly proveth that glorious 
Gregon in hom.  attire proceedeth from pride, because that men or women will not use their gallant garments, but in such places where they may be seen: and he that could sound the hearts of many vain persons, should find the root of this gay apparel an unchaste heart, and an arrogant mind. Whereunto well alluded Diogenes, being asked a question of a young man, very neatly and finly apparelled; he said he would not answer him before he put off 
Laer. lib. 6.  his apparel, that he might know whether he was a man or a woman: declaring by his effeminate attire, his womanish wantonness.  
As some offend in too much niceness, so others in too much carelessness and slovenry, not regarding in what manner and fashion they show themselves abroad: which, in some, may come of a certain contempt they have of themselves, of pride, and the world; but this manner of mortification (howbeit I will not condemn all those that use it, of hypocrisy) yet I hold, that for the most part, it carrieth a smell thereof: I know a man that some hold very godly and religious, yet when he was to appear before a prince, he would always have the barest cloak he could get, to the intent the king might account him godly, mortified, and a despiser of the world: and perhaps Antisthenes went not far awry when he saw Socrates in a torn coat, showing a hole thereof to the people; Lo, quoth he, thorough this I see Socrates vanity: for mortification standeth well with modesty and decent attire. Wherefore I take it universally, that unseemly garments, and neglect of apparel, for the most part, proceedeth from sloth, or hypocrisy; for true and sound Virtue requireth gravity and decency.  
Much might be said here concerning the newfangle madness, or lascivious pride, or vain superfluities, of women's pointing, painting, adorning, and fantastical disguising: but I must say this vice in them to be remediless, because it hath been in every age, ever cried against, and never amended: and for my part, I am half persuaded this sin carrieth with it a final impenitence, which women never intent to change as long as they live, but to carry it to the grave: for every one will excuse herself, because she only followeth the fashion and custom: if others would change, she would be contented to imitate; but if you ask another, she will say as much, but none will begin, and so their pride must be endless, and therefore incorrigible in this world, to be punished in another.   

VII. Discovery of passion in Conversation.  
COmmonly by conversation you may discover men's affections, for he that frequenteth good company, for most part is honest; and he that useth ill company, can hardly be virtuous: who ever saw a man very conversant with drunkards, to be sober? who knew an individual companion of harlots, chaste? I am not ignorant that a physician may converse with sick men without infection, and cure them: but many physicians will scarce adventure to deal with plaguy patients, lest in curing others, they kill themselves. Vices are plagues, and vicious persons infected: therefore it were good to deal with them a far off, and not in such places where their vices are strongest, as with gl●●ters in banquets, drunkards in taverns, riotous persons in suspected houses, lest thou discredit thyself, and be infected with the others vice: as a gentleman I knew, who walking by Thames, and seeing his boy in watering his gelding to pass too far, so that he was in danger of drowning, presently leapt in, thinking by swimming to deliver them both, the boy caught hold of his master's foot, and pulled him over head and ears, and so they were drowned all three for company.  
Who talks much before his betters, cannot but be condemned of arrogancy, contempt, and lack of prudence. To converse much with inferiors, as it breedeth contempt so it argueth a base mind, as though his conceits were no better than such persons deserved to be acquainted withal. Except inferiors be endued with some excellent 
Continuus aspectus minus verendos magnes homines ipsa satietate facit. Liu. lib. 35. Et maiestati maior ex longinquo reverentia Taci. 1. An.  qualities: wherefore noblemen or princes may confer with inferiors or subjects, if they be learned, military men, or wise politicians: wherefore, to keep, or win gravity, great prudence it were, never to talk with those that be far beneath us in estate, and condition, but of serious matters: for such men, by sporting, will account better of themselves, and in time, despise their superiors; for familiarity aspireth to equality.  
To enter into company, although of equals, without some civil courtesy, or affable speech, cometh of rusticity: to departed without taking of leave, or salutation, argueth incivility and contempt.  
Too much familiarity, with scoffing, and gibing, proceeds from lightness, and rarely continueth without dissension; because that men are not at all times apt to receive jests: wherefore friendly jests ever carry with them a certain respect: this fault I find more common among Frenchmen, and English, than any other Nation. Some, in conversation can discourse well for some two or three days, but after that time their oil is spent, they thrust out all they have of a sudden, & after become very barren. These men be not commonly witty, nor humble; for witty men seldom are drawn dry in conceits, and humble men distill their knowledge according to their talents. Much more might be handled in this point, but because it rather concerneth civil conversation, than investigation of passions, I will omit it.   

VIII. Discovery of Passions in Writing.  
WHo of purpose writeth obscurely, pervetteth the natural communication of men; because we writ to declare our minds, and he that affecteth obscurity, seemeth, not to be willing that men should conceive his meaning. The holy Scriptures I always except, which for many causes admit some obscurity. But for men, in their writing to follow such a phrase as hardly you can understand what they say, cannot but proceed either from confused understanding, because a clear conceit breedeth perspicuous delivery, or affectation of learning, which springeth from pride; for I have known most excellent men endeavour to speak and write the greatest mysteries of our faith, in such plain manner, that very deep divinity seemed very easy. And I truly am of opinion, that he is the greatest Divine, and most profitable to the commonweal, which can make his learning to be best conceived.  
To use many Metaphors, Poetical phrases in prose, or inckepot terms, smelleth of affectation, and argueth a proud childish wit. To be peremptory and singular in opinions, to censure ill, or condemn rashly, without rendering some sound and strong reason, for the most part proceedeth from singular self love, and a defectuous judgement.  
Some will condemn others for writing, because they think there be Books written more than sufficient: This censure cometh, either from a sluggish mind, or envious, to see others good endeavours commended; or else from gross ignorance, because they neither know the nature of men's wits, nor the limits of human underderstanding: for if we see the art of sailing with the Compass, the exercise of Artillery, the manner of Printing, of late years invented, augmented, and perfitted; Why may not divers Sciences already invented, be increased with new conceits, amplified with better Demonstrations, explained in a more perspicuous manner, delivered in a more ordinat method?  
Contrary to these be certain itching spirits, who put every toy in print, they prise their own works exceedingly, and censure others injuriously: these may well be compared to certain wild vines, which bring forth many grapes, but never mature them: some do it for same, and some for gain, and both without discretion, and against their own credit. Therefore great wisdom it were, to write something discreetly, that men's labours may, not only profit themselves, but also be derived to others: for what do we account good in itself, if it be not communicative of goodness, to others? Bonum est sui diffusinum. Yet would I have men not to blab out their conceits without meditation, or good digestion; because, if in all actions it concerneth greatly a man's demeanour, to effectuate them with deliberation and ripeness; so, much more in writing, which no man hasteth, being distilled drop by drop from the pen, and of itself permanent, not as words communicative to some few present auditors, but blazed to the world, and sent to all posterity.  
Some men, in writing, flow with phrases, but are barren in substance of matter, and such are neither witty nor wise: others have good conceits, but delivered after an affected manner; they put a little liquor into too great a vessel. Others are so concise, that you need a commentary to understand them; the former be not without all folly, and the latter lack not some pride: yet those are more commendable than these, for those only are tedious thorough their prolixity, but these are molestfull, because they require too great attention, and make a man often spend many spirits, to win a slender knowledge.  
Many writ confusedly, without method and order, and such comprehend not their matter: others are too precise in divisions, in such sort, that ere you come to the last part, you have forgotten the first members: and this defect I find in many postils of scriptures. Good distinctions breed perspicuity: but a multitude engendereth obscurity; and best I hold it so to distinguish, that distinctions may rather be noted in matter than in words.  
With this I think good to conclude the discovery of Passions in human actions, omitting much more that might be said in this matter; as what passions may be discovered in laughing, in disputing, in crossing, in negotiating, and such like external operations: and especially two discourses I have omitted, or rather not printed though penned; the one is a discovery of passions in censuring books, a matter not unnecessary for this critical age, wherein every man's labours are arraigned at the tribunal seat of every pedantical censorious Aristarchs' understanding. The other, is discovery of passions in taking Tobacco. The former treatise was violently kept from me, and therefore not in my power to print: the latter, upon some good considerations was for a time suspended: but lest my labour should be too long, and the Discourse too tedious, I will leave these, and many more, to the Readers witty observation and deliberate judgement.    

Order or conference of Passions. CHAP. III.  
We may confer passions together in divers manners: First in knowledge; secondly, in generation; thirdly, in intention; and four, in degree of perfection or dignity.  
What passion is first and best known unto us.  
1 THomas affirmeth, that no passion is more sensibly 
Thom. in 1. 2. q. 26. ●. 1. ad primum.  known unto us, than desire or concupiscence; for rendering a reason why our coveting appetite is commonly called concupiscibilis, he saith the cause is, for that we name things, as we conceive them: and therefore, because we perceive our desire most manifestly, we call it, our coveting or desiring appetite: for, as he proveth out of Saint Augustine, Love then most is felt when it is absent from the object beloved. But I cannot herein consent with Thomas, because I think there is no man that ever perceived in himself so vehement a desire of any thing he loved, as sadness and grief when he was afflicted with that he hated. In fear also who perceiveth not most sensibly that passion wherein men do tremble, shake, and shiver, yea sweat blood for very fear? as Maldonatus relateth, he heard of those which saw a 
Maldo. in 26. ca 1. Mat. Arist. lib. 7. de histor. arumal. ca 16. & lib. 3. de part. ani. ca, 5.  strong man at Paris, condemned to death, sweat blood for very fear. And he proveth out of Aristotle, that this effect may be natural. Neither caietan's shift upon Thomas serveth any thing to the purpose, that we perceive better our desires of the soul, without any corporal alteration of the body, than either love, pleasure, or hatred: for this comment spoileth the text, because hardly we conceive any actions of the soul, but by these corporal alterations, the which induce us to name them according to Thomas his meaning: neither is it true that we prove by experience, without the motions of the body more sensibly concupiscence, than joy or sadness: and this assumption was admitted of Caietane, without any probation. Wherefore I think we may best say, that of all passions we prove pain, grief, sadness, pleasure, fear, and delectation are most notoriously known: yet because these vehement passions do not affect us so commonly, but at certain times, and desires of those things we love, continue the longest, and fall forth oftenest; therefore men called our sensitive appetite Concupiscibilis, coveting. First of all then, sadness most manifestly is known to us, because we suffer often, and feel most sensible pain; then pleasure, than fear: the other are not so open, but sometimes they may exceed, and so more show themselves, as ire, desperation, etc.  

Order of Passions in generation or production.  
2 Divines and Philosophers commonly affirm, that all other passions acknowledge love to be their fountain, root, and mother; the reason I take to be for that all passions, either prosecut some good, or fly some evil: those which fly evil, as hatred, fear, sadness, presuppose the love of some good, the which that evil depriveth, as for example; who hateth death, but he which loveth life? who feareth adversity, but he that loveth prosperity? who is pensive in his sickness, but he that loveth health? Love then goeth before all those passions which eschew evil. Amongst them which prosecute good, love likewise proceedeth, for the passions of our minds are not unlike the motions of our bodies: For as things naturally moved, have an appetite or natural inclination to the place whereunto they are moved, move, and rest therein; as the water which runneth so fast down the mountains, hath an instinct of Nature to be united with the Sea, for which cause we see brooks and floods run with such a main force to attain thereunto, when they come to the Sea; presently they join in friendship, and live in concord, joining together as loving friends: even so, we see in beasts, the horse loveth water when he is thirsty, and therefore by desire he seeketh out some river or fountain; when he hath found it, he drinketh, pleaseth himself therewith, and so resteth contented. This ordinary course keep passions: but sometimes this subordination is changed, for if a man be wounded, upon a sudden, the present passion of grief and ire invade him: and so per accidens, in many other cases, the foresaid order may be broken.   

Order of Passions in Intention.  
3 IF we discourse of those Passions which reside in the sensitive appetite, it ever first intendeth pleasure and delight, because therewith Nature is most contented: from which intention followeth love, hatred, ire, and such like: this passion beasts most desire, yea children and sensual persons wholly seek after, and direct almost their whole actions thereunto, for pleasure is the polestare of all inordinate passions: and if a man examine himself thoroughly, he shall find that riches, glory, health, learning, and what else most men desire, aim commonly at pleasure and delight of the body, because these pleasures are easily perceived, and in them the soul seemeth to purchase a quiet rest. Nevertheless, virtuous men, whose passions are ruled by reason, level at a higher mark, and subordinate pleasure to honesty, and delight to virtue; because (as we say) Glory waiteth on Virtue, as the shadow followeth the body: even so, unto good actions followeth a certain pleasure and sweetness; howbeit a good man giveth alms, yet doth he not give it with intention men should commend him, as hypocrites do, and so be repaid with the pleasure of a good reputation, but with the testimony of a good conscience that he doth it for the glory of God.   

Order of Passions in Dignity.  
4 IF we compare our passions in dignity or perfection, than those wherewith we prosecute good, are more excellent than those wherewith we esteem ill: and among these, love holdeth the principal place, and as a queen in dignity preceadeth the rest: because that love uniteth the lover in affection with the object beloved: love is the root of other affections, love finally maketh us friends with God and man.  
All we have said of passions residing in our sensitive appetite, the same we find in the reasonable passion, of our will, because the will hath such like acts, specified of the same objects, directed to the same end: for as a rhetorician will make an Epistle according to the rules of Grammar, as well as a Grammarian; even so what our sensative appetite followeth or abhorreth, the same our will may prosecute or detest.     

THE FIFT BOOK of the Passions of the Mind: Wherein are delivered the means to move Passions.  
THe water which we find in every City, by three ways passeth into it; either by fountains or springs, by rivers or conduits, or by rain, snow, or halestones: that is, some water ariseth, some passeth, some descendeth: so in like manner our imaginations or internal senses, and consequently our Passions, by three ways are moved; by humours arising in our bodies, by external senses and secret passage of sensual objects, by the descent or commandment of reason. How passions are stirred up by humours was above delivered, here only remaineth to declare how they are provoked by senses, and incited by the wit and will. And first of all we will begin with the motions of senses, as most known, obvious, and ordinary.  

How senses move Passions, and specially our sight §. 1.  
GEnerally they love and affect vanity, for what is that they love or can love in the world, and worldly, but vanity? that is, neither before it is had, contenteth, nor when it is possessed, fully pleaseth, nor after it is departed, satisfieth: For such things are vain, which vanish away, and are resolved into nothing. They search after lies, not only because all worldly allurements yield no felicity and contentation as they bear us in hand, but also for that in very deed and really they be lies, showing one thing in the rind and external appearance, and an other in the core and internal essence: for cousining arts falsify and sophisticat nature, causing copper seem gold, hypocrisy sanctity, and senses surfeits the soul's solaces.  
All senses no doubt are the first gates whereby pass and repass all messages sent to passions: but yet the scriptures in particular wonderfully exhort, command, and admonish us to attend unto the custody and vigilance over our eyes. David who had once unwarily glanced awry, and let go the rains of his eyes, at his passions importunity, thought himself unable without Gods special grace to guide, direct, and withdraw them from vanity: and therefore requested him to avert them. Auerte 
Psal. 11. 8.  oculos meos ne videant vanitatem. Solomon his son, inspired by God's eternal wisdom, exhorteth us to observe 
2. Reg. 11. 1.  (wherein he himself most grossly offended) and attend well our eyes, and therefore not to look upon a woman trimmed and decked up. Auerte faciem tuam a muliere 
Sap. 9  compta.  
jeremy putting on the person of many of his careless people, lamented the loss which was befallen them for not keeping diligently the gates of their eyes. Oculus meus depredatus est animam meam, my eye hath sacked my soul: how O holy Prophet can the eye an external sense, rob thy soul of her riches? ah it is easy to answer: The sense cannot be free from theft and sin, which openeth the gates & letteth the thief in. Wherefore job thought to prevent such harms and damages, and therefore cut off the occasions, covenanting with his 
job. 31.  eyes, that he would not somuch as think of a virgin, Pepigi faedus cum oculis meis, ut ne cogitarem guidem de virgine. And Solomon rendereth a reason hereof, Because perhaps he might have been scandalised, or induced to offend God, alured by her beauty, Virginem ne conspilias, 
Sap. 9  ne fort scandalizaris in decore illius.  
Questionless the holy Ghost in sacred writ, would never have so often, and so seriously counseled us unto a careful watchfulness over this sense specially, but for some important and weighty reasons. For he well knew, that of all senses, sight was the surest and certainest of his object and sensation; no sense rangeth abroad and pierceth the skies like unto this; no sense hath such variety of objects to feed and delight it, as this; no sense imprinteth so firmly his forms in the imagination, as this; no sense serveth the soul so much for knowledge, as this; no sense is put so oft in action, as this; no sense sooner moveth, than this; and consequently, no sense well guided, more profitable to the soul than this, nor no sense perverteth more perilous than this: for if the guide be corrupted, the followers will hardly escape uninfected. Wherefore I would persuade all them that fear God, and would avoid occasions of sins, either not to behold at all such things as may induce them easily to offend; or so perfunctorily pass over them, as they leave no sting behind them: and therefore we are willed not to behold wine when it glistereth, and as it were, glorieth in the glass; for such alluring sights, dart presently into the heart inordinat delights: his meaning is, we should not demur in sensual beholding, lest perhaps ensue too much affection, or drinking.  
Epiphanius giveth a very apt moral reason, why in the old law when a dead course passed by any house, they were commanded to shut their doors and windows: For saith he, by this thou art taught: Si audieris vocem 
Epiphan. lib. 1. heres. tom. 1. he●●s. 9 p. q.  peccati, aut speciem delicti videris, claud oculos thos à concupiscentia, & os à vanitate verborum, & aurem à pravo sono ut ne mortisicetur tota domus, hoc est anima & corpus. If thou hear the voice of sin, or see the face of offence, shut thine eyes from concupiscence, and thy mouth from sinful sounds, lest all thy house die, that is, thy body and thy soul. For as he addeth after out of the Prophet, Mors per fenestras ascendit: death ascendeth into the house of our hearts, by the windows of our senses. He therefore that intendeth to keep death from his heart, must shut the gates of his senses in the face of sin. For the better performance hereof, it is to be considered, that passions are not only moved by their principal objects and directly, but also by certain appurtenances, apappendices, or (let me call them for lack of a better word) scraps of the principal object, indirectly the which appertain and have some reference thereunto. When jacob saw the garment of joseph sprinkled 
Gen. 37.  with blood, it stirred up in him extremely the passion 
judith. 16. 11.  of sorrow. The sandals or pantofles of judith, ravished the eyes of Holophernes, Sandalia eius repuerunt oculos eius, and hailed his heart to lust. The Antiochians were so vexed with certain extraordinary exactions the emperor Theodosius imposed upon them, that they for extreme 
Chry. in variis homil. ad populum Antioch●ū.  spite and anger, which the sight of his arms and statues stirred up in them, would no longer endure them in their city, but broke the one, and razed the other. We see a dog when he cannot, or dare not assault him that throweth the stone with whom he is angry, runneth to bite the stone and so in part to revenge his spite. David aggrieved with the death of Saul and jonathas cursed the senseless mountains of Gelboe which upheld their enemies till the Israelits were slain. Montes Gelboe nec 
2. Reg. 1. 21.  ros nec plwiae veniant super vos. And job execrated the day that gave light when he was borne, after he was plunged into so many miseries. Pereat dies in qua natus 
job. 3. 3.  sum & noxin qua dictum est: conceptus est homo. Raguel when he heard Raphael the Angel tell him, how young Toby was old Tobies' son; could not abstain from tears, the sight of the son so moved and stirred up the affection he bore to his father: the like did Sara his wife, and 
Tob. 7.  Anne the daughter. And the reason of this enlarged and extensive affection in passions, I think proceedeth from the very heart and nature of every passion: For when we love God, our parents, or friends, we are well pleased and contented with all those treasures of goodness, honesty, wealth and all other perfections they have, and wish them such as beseem them, which they want; and this we desire to see performed, and rejoice when it is accomplished: and therefore since that a man hath many good things of nature, as children, wife, kinsfolk, etc. and many additions by fortune, as servants, horses, possessions, etc. and many prised ornaments, as credit, glory, fame, images, statues, etc. and divers other things which have reference and relation unto him as their master, lord, and owner: and therefore he that loveth entirely his friend, loveth all that belongeth unto his friend, and valueth them at that rate it deserveth and his friend prizeth them. In hatred and envy contratiwise, every one detesteth not only the person, but also all that appertaineth unto him, for the contrary reason; neither can he abide to see any thing prosper which concerneth him. Wherefore David offering his prayer to God, requesteth him to defend his innocency and punish his enemy: and not only his person, but also wisheth his children should become orphans, Fiant filii eius orphani: 
Psal. 108.  and his wife a widow, & uxor etus vidua: That his children should be cast out a doors, range like vagabonds, and go a begging, Nutantes transferantur filii eius, & mendicent & eijctantur de habitationibus suis. And yet not contented: Let the usurer sack him of all his substance, and strangers despoil him of all his labours, Scrutetur foenerator omnem substantiam eius, & deripiant alieni labores eius. Yet more, Let no man help him, nor take commiseration upon his infants, Non sit illi adiutor, nec sit qui misereatur pupillis eius: & all this is not enough, but, Let his children die, and in one generation cause his name to be buried in oblivion, Fiant nati eius in interitum, in generatione una deleatur nomen eius. And many more such imprecations he poureth forth against them, which I for brevity sake omit: only this will suffice, that the hater cannot endure to see or suffer the person hated to prosper and enjoy any good thing, or any thing belongeth him. I have known some men so passionate, that it was a most bitter corrosive unto their hearts to see the children of their enemies but well appareled: and it is held for a good point in policy and apt to move compassion, when the prince is offended with any person, that he appear not before him in gorgeous but mourning attire: and so Saint Chrisostome recounteth that divers noble women deposed all their pomp and 
Chrisost. hom. ad populi.  pride, and after a most mean manner and with poor apparel presented themselves before the judges to sue for their husbands in that lamentable commotion at Antioch: and as much the scriptures insinuat, that a man should do to God, as Baruch testifieth: Anima quae tristis 
Baruch. 2.  est super magnitudinem mali, & incedit curua, dat tibi gloriam domine, The soul which is sorry for the mightiness of her evil, and goeth crooked, O Lord glorifieth thee. His meaning is, the contrite heart, and humble submission, and abject conceit a sinner hath of himself, caused by true repentance, exalt God's greatness and extol his majesty, the which his mortal enemies so grieve to have offended.  
Out of this discourse we may collect some practical points very profitable, and know a reason how men commonly carry themselves towards appassionat persons. First, for that we say sight stirreth up passions, and not only the persons we love, but also whatsoever releaseth any thing of them. Therefore generally among friends which be absent and out of sight, affections are colder and rarer: for although true friends have always a secret cabinet in their memories to talk in their minds with them whom they love, although absent; yet except the memory be revived by some external object, oblivion entereth, thoughts are more remiss, & friendship faileth: Wherefore, messages, letters, tokens, friends, kinsfolks, and such things as concern us, are to be sent to our friends to renovat and revive our former amity.  
Secondly, if we would not exasperate our enemies, it were expedient not only we ourselves, but also all these things which any way belong us, appear not in their sights: yea, and that is more, we must take heed as much as in us lieth, that they understand not any prosperity or good befallen unto us: because in all these sights hatred is stirred up and revived anew, which lay smothered before under the embers of forgetfulness: and so with silence perhaps enmity of itself will consume and pine away.  
Thirdly, to persuade any matter we intent, or to stir up any passion in a multitude, if we can aptly confirm our opinion or intention with any visible object, no doubt but the persuasion would be more forcible, and the passion more potent. Cato was determined to strike the Senate and Romans, with fear of the Carthaginian forces; & lest they should object against him, that Carthage was far from them, and therefore not so dangerous, he presently showed them green figs, at that instant brought from Carthage; & so they all conceived that the country was not far distant, for otherwise the figs would have been dried or corrupted.  
Galba intending to excite the principal men of Spain 
Tacitus lib. 1.  against Nero; and to move them the more to wage war against him, placed of purpose before his tribunal a many of images of great personages executed or banished in Nero's time, and fetched from exile a young noble man, out of the next Island, to stand by his seat, while he spoke to his army.  
Lycurgus brought two dogs the one savage the other trained up, to let the people see the difference betwixt men well brought up and badly, and withal to let them understand the great good of keeping good laws.  
The Macedonians being once overcome in battle by their adjacent enemies, thought the only remedy that remained to inanimate their soldiers to battle, was to carry their young king Philip the first in his cradle to the field, thereby stirring up the zeal of faithful subjects to defend their innocent prince: and this little wherstone so sharpened their swords, that indeed they won the battle.  
The people of Tangia in America in their wars carried always in their camp the corpses and bones of their ancient famous warriors, thereby intending to encourage their soldiers with the worthy memory and valour of their predecessors. Agria a city in Hungaria, being besieged the year 1562 by Mahomet Bassa with an army of 60000 Turks, and battered with 50 cannons; in the city were only 2000 Hungarians, who with incredible valour had repelled thirteen most terrible assaults: and albeit they were most valiant, yet to increase their valour, they (expecting another fresh assault) swore themselves, that upon peril of death no man should talk or speak of peace, or yielding, nor give other answer to these unsatiable suckers of Christian blood, but with cannons, muskets, and calivers: and in case the siege endured longer than their victuals lasted, then rather to die of hunger, than submit themselves unto the Turkish slavery. And at last when the Bassa had offered them divers fair and favourable conditions, if they would yield, they with a visible sign to move him to despair of his intent, hanged over the wall a coffin covered with black betwixt two spears, thereby representing unto him, that in that city they would be buried: and so prevailed.  
Among the jews the ark of God as a visible sign was borne by the levites in the battle, as with a present object to deliver them from all fear of enemies, thereby conceiving the infallible assistauce and protection of God over them, whose cause they handled and defended. I have seen some preachers bring a dead man's skull into the pulpit, therewith the better to move their auditors to contemn the transitory pleasures of this world, to beat into them a terror of death, to the intent that for the rest of their days, they might lead a better life.  
Last of all it ought seriously to be considered, that the presence of any visible object, moveth much more vehemently. the passion, than the imagination or conceit thereof in the absence: for the imagination in absence, representeth the pleasure as far off and not prepared; but the thing being present, nothing seemeth to want but execution. And therefore we see beasts in the presence of the sensual objects scarce possibly to be with held from them.   

How Passions are moved with music and instrumeuts. §. 2.  
HOw music songs and sounds stir up passions, we may discover in little sucklings, who with their nurse's songs are brought to rest; the mules without bells will scarcely travel; the carman with whistling causeth his sturdy jades to walk more merrily. The Arcadian signory considering that in regard of the situation of their country, the inhabitants for most part were barbarous, savage, and wild; to mollify more their minds, & to render them more mild, gentle, & human, judged no means more effectual than to introduct music among them: For in very deed a certain kind of tickling symphony maketh men effeminate and delicate. The Spaniards play their Zarabanda upon the Gittern, which moveth them (as I hear reported) to dance, and do worse. Pythagoras once chanced to fall into the 
Basil. hom. de legen lib. Gen. tilium.  company of drunkards, where a physician ruled their lascivious banquet: he presently commanded him to change his harmony and sing a Dorion, and so with this manner of melody brought them to sobriety, and casting their garlands from their heads were ashamed of all they had done. Saul being possessed or at least much vexed with 
1. Reg. 16.  the devil, David played upon his Citheran, and he was comforted and the evil spirit departed.  
The devil being a spirit, cannot be expelled from a body naturally by the virtue of music, but as we may conceive and infer out of the scriptures, either Saul was really possessed by the devil, and then not the natural forces of David's songs and sounds, but the assistance of God and his help expelled the devil, at what time David sung his sacred hymns. Or the devil was not really in Saul, but only molested him with the vehemency of some melancholy humour, as the falling sickness▪ or some other sort of melancholy madness: and then as this perverse malignant humour causeth fears, sadness, and such like melancholy passions; so music causeth mirth, joy, and delight, the which abate, expel, and quite destroy their contrary affections, and withal, rectify the blood and spirits, and consequently digest melancholy, and bring the body into a good temper. Whether of these two was in Saul, Divines doubt, and Physicians are not able to resolve. Reason's may be brought for both parts; some Divines attribute it to God, some Physicians ascribe the cure to the natural virtue of music. The reason for the Physicians, is grounded upon the text; for it seemeth that the disease or wicked spirit that possessed Saul was a thing usual in the country, because his servants counseled him to procure a physician, to the intent that when his malady molested him, the music might comfort him. It never was usual in any country, nor in all the scripture practised to cast out devils by the playing upon instruments: therefore it was a melancholy humour, by the devil introducted, and by music causing mirth expelled.  
The Divines have a more solid argument for their opinion, because the scriptures ought to be understood in their proper sense as the words sound, when no absurdity necessarily thereupon ensueth, as in this exposion is evident; for, ascribing it to God what absurdity can follow? now the scripture evermore calleth this affection of Saul, the spirit, and the wicked spirit, vers. 14. Spiritus autem Domini rec●ssit à Saul, & exagitabat eum spiritus nequam à Domino, The spirit of our Lord departed from Saul, and the wicked spirit from God (that is, by God's permission) vexed him. The same we have in the verse 16. 17. and twice in the 23.  
Again I would gladly know when these Physicians ever see with a fit of mirth either these melancholy madnesses notoriously remitted, or when the paroxime was upon them quite taken away, let it be either Lycanthropia, that is, a woolfish madness; or Epilepsia the falling sickness? if they could show me such a minstrel, I doubt not but in short time he would be able to buy all the Physicians that dwell within an hundred miles of him. For the scripture saith expressly, David tollebat & percutiebat manu sua & refocillabatur Saul & levius habebat, recedebat enim ab eo spiritus malus, If the devil personally had not afflicted him, the humour had ceased from molestation but not departed away: and the scripture yieldeth a reason (as appeareth by the word enim) why he was comforted, because the devil was gone away.  
The argument which I objected in favour of the Physicians may be answered two ways: first, that the servants of Saul no otherwise intended to cure his disease by music, than commonly in the maladies or vexation of great personages, their friends procure music to recreate them; whence from soever the maladies proceed, they neither know, nor generally regard. Secondly, it might be that God extraordinarily was accustomed to 
4. Reg. 3.  work in those days wonders by the means of music, as afterwards we read of Elizeus, who desiring to prophetise, called for a physician, at whose song, the spirit of God fell upon him. And it is a thing usual with God, to work miraculous effects by creatures which have either no virtue at all to work such an effect, or only a weak resemblance. What natural virtue had the dirt 
joh. 9 jud. 16.  and spit of Christ, to cure the blind borne beggar? What virtue had Samsons hairs, to afford him such strength and forces? What natural virtue lurked in the asses 
jud. 16.  jaw, to yield him water unto satiety? What virtue had 
Exod. 14. Act. 5.  Moses rod, to divide the red sea? What natural virtues lay hid in Saint Peter's shadow, St Paul's handkirchifes and 
Act. 19  girdles, to cure so many and marvelously tormenting diseases? The water of jordan had virtue to wash, but 
4. Reg. 5. 4. Reg. 20.  not to wash away the leprosy of Naaman Sirus: the cataplasm of Esay had some natural proportion to cure an apostume, but not such a desperate mortal malady as that of Ezekias. The gall of the fish which Toby caught 
Tob. 6.  in the river Tigris, had virtue to cure the eyes; but who can deny, but miraculously, by God's special providence laid upon Toby stark blind, it was augmented? So I say, music naturally expelleth melancholy; and God either miraculously by David's music, or at his music delivered Saul from the devil, who afflicted him in a melancholy manner: For, that music causeth mirth, besides the daily experience which proveth it, we have God's word to confirm it, Vinum & musica laetisicant 
Eccles. 40. 20.  cor, Wine and music maketh merry the heart.  
Some men wonder (and not without reason) how it cometh to pass, that out of the same mouth should issue a cold wind to cool the hot pottage, and a hot breath to warm the cold hands. But music is much more miraculous, for it moveth a man to mirth and pleasure, and affecteth him with sorrow and sadness; it inciteth to devotion, and enticeth to dissolution: it stirreth up soldiers to war, and allureth citizens to peace. Take away music from marriages, and half the mirth 
Music causeth mirth.  is marred: deprive great banquets of music, and the feast is not entire: there is but sorry dancing, where music is wanting: despoil tradesmen and labourers of natural music, and take from them a sovereign preservative 
Music causeth melancholy.  from pain. Music therefore moveth men to mirth and abateth the heavy humour of melancholy. But how causeth music sorrow and sadness? What are Hieremies' lamentable threens, but a sorrowful song breathed over the city of Jerusalem? What are David's penitential Psalms, but moanful anthems inclining the soul to sorrow for sin? What are funebriall accents, but ruthful lamentations for our friends eclipsed? What else are those doleful tunes which issue from languishing lovers, but offsprings of pensive furies, and origens of more vehement melancholy fits? All poetical feigned fables, or sophisticated histories, are loaden with these wailing verses and swan-like, or rather swinelike voices, occasioned by mournful despair, and feeding the same. A sword serveth to defend right, and is also an instrument 
Music stirreth up devotion.  to work wrongs: music in like manner elevateth the mind to devotion and piety, and abaseth the soul with effusion & levity. Elizeus (as above I insinuated) prepared 
4. ●eg. 3.  his spirit to receive the influence of prophesy by the means of music. David in penning Psalms, ordaining instruments, providing musicans for the service of God, by word and deed taught us, by the virtue of music to stir men up to devotion: and therefore registered that solemn sentence beseeming all Christians, but specially musicans, and worthy to be engraven in their breasts for eternal memory. Laudate Dominum in sono 
Psal. 848.  tubae: laudate eum in psalterio & cithera: laudate eum in timpano & choro: laudate eum in chordis & organo: laudate eum in symbalis bene sonantibus: laudate eum in cymbalis iubilationis: omnis spiritus laudet dominum. And for this cause it hath been usual among them in the old testament, after any great grace or favour showed them by God, to rouse up their souls with musical songs and instruments, to give him thanks, and praise his name for the bestowing of such benefits, imparting to them such great good, or delivering them from such evils. When Israel had passed the read sea, and therein beheld Pharoe and his host buried in the bottom of those wallowing waves, Moses with the men, and Marie sister to Aaron 
Exod. 15. judith. 16. jud. 5.  with the women, sung panigeries of praises unto God with hymns and instruments: the like we read of judith after she had vanquished Holophernes: of Delbora, etc.  
And the Church, for this same effect, useth the consorts of musical instruments, and the harmony of voices: the which Saint Augustine greatly commendeth, and 
Augustinus lib. 10. confess. ca 33  reporteth of himself what exceeding spiritual comfort he reaped thereby, at the beginning of his conversion, what tears he shed, and how he was internally moved. For music hath a certain secret passage into men's souls, and worketh so divinely in the mind, that it elevateth the heart miraculously, and resembleth in a certain manner the voices and harmony of heaven: and questionless there is nothing in this life which so sensibly discovereth unto us the pleasures of Paradise, as a sweet consort of music. True it is that this sensual delight appertaineth more to younglings in devotion, than grave, perfect, and mortified men: for it serveth them as a sensual object, to ascend to God in spirit, to contemplate his sweetness, blessedness, and eternal felicity, and thereby contemn this world so full of vanity and misery: but these, who are more elevated to God by reason, than by sense ascend to him by serious meditations, deep considerations, and exact penetrations of his word, his majesty, attributes, and perfections. Wherefore Saint Augustine thought he offended, when he was more moved with the melody of the song, than with the sense of the Psalm: and for the same effect he highly commendeth 
Idem Ibidem. Athanas.  Saint Athanasius, Qui tam modico flexu vocis faciebat sonare lectorem psalmi, ut pronuntianti vicinior esset quam canenti. Who caused the reader of the psalm, to sing with such a small inflexion of voice, that he seemed rather to say, than to sing. But yet for all this, even grave and most devout men benefit their souls, and not only the simpler sort, with the sweetness of music: for although they lift up their hearts to God, persuaded rather by reason than induced by sense, yet they cannot ever attend unto such serious cogitations, but now and then intermingle their devotions with this sacred sensuality, and pleasant path which leadeth to the fountain of spiritual comfort and consolation. 
Music causeth wantennesse.   
Aristotle in his commonwealth forbiddeth a certain sort of lascivious music, and alloweth the Doricall, which is of another kind: for as in some men's gestures, words, and manner of delivery, we discover a certain light wantonness, so in some music there is to be noted a manifest lose effeminateness: and the experience is so sensible, that it were superfluous to proceed any farther in proof.  
Alexander the great hearing Antigenida a most excellent 
Music moveth ●●e.  trumpeter sound his trumpet to battle, was stirred up in such sort to fight, that his very friends were not secure from blows, which stood next him. Saint Basil recounteth 
Basil. in hom. de legen. lib. Gent.  that one Timothy did so excel in music, that if he used a sharp and severe harmony he stirred men up to anger: and presently by changing his note into a more sweet and softer tune he moved them to mildness and peace: and at a banquet caused both these effects in Alexander the great.  
The Na●●ans in the east India to stir themselves up to battle, hang at the pommels of their sword certain plates to make a noise, thinking, or proving belike thereby, how their hearts are incensed to war. In Europe we never see soldiers almost sight, but first provoked to wars, with trumpets and drums. Tacitus reporteth, that the Germans inanimated themselves to the wars, with singing the worthy wonders and heroical exploits of Hercules. And finally experience teacheth, that not only men but also warlike horses, with drums and trumpets are inflamed to sight. This effect of sounds and instruments, cannot proceed but from the passion of ire which is raised up and ruleth the soul, occasioned or rather caused by them.  
As music and instruments in one kind causeth soldiers 
Music inclineth to peace.  blood to rise, and thirst after the shedding of the blood of their enemies: so contrariwise another sort of music pacifieth the minds of men, and rendereth them quiet and peaceable. The Arcadians by music (as I said above) were transformed and transported from savageness to civility, from fierceness to affability, from cruelty to humanity. And questionless as nothing is more opposite to a warlike heart which never ceaseth from killing, than an effeminate heart, which is wholly addicted to loving; so if music can make warriors womanish, it will consequently render them quiet, tractable, and peaceable.  
divers other passions, besides the related, are moved by music, as mercy and compassion: and for this purpose many beggars with songs demand their alms, and specially the Germains, where the man, the wife, and their children make a full begging quire; according to the Italian proverb:  

Cosi Vanno cattando  
Li Tudesci cantando,  
Li Francesipiangendo,  
Li Spagnioli biastemando.   

Thus go a begging  
The Germans singing,  
The French men weeping,  
The Spaniards cursing.   
That is, the poor needy Spaniards, will sometime curse, if a man deny them alms.  
There are also some stately majestical songs and consorts of music, which with a certain paused gravity seem to invite a man's heart to magnanimity, for they release I know not what resemblance of action and gesture, consorting with great personages. Many more passions doubtless are stirred up with music; and Saint Augustine is of opinion that all, for he did perceive, 
Aug. lib. 10. conf. cap. 33.  Omnes affectus spiritus nostri, pro sui diversitate, habere proprios modos in voce, atque cantu, quorum nescio qua occulta familiaritate excitentur.  
But to knit up this discourse, there remaineth a question to be answered, as difficult as any whatsoever in all natural or moral philosophy, viz. How music stirreth up these passions, and moveth so mightily these affections? What hath the shaking or artificial crispling of the air (which is in effect the substance of music) to do with rousing up choler, afflicting with melanlancholie, iubilating the heart with pleasure, elevating the soul with devotion, alluring to lust, inducing to peace, exciting to compassion, inviting to magnanimity? It is not so great a marvel, that meat, drink, exercise, and air set passions aloft, for these are divers ways qualified, and consequently apt to stir up humours; but what quality carry simple single sounds and voices, to enable them to work such wonders?  
I had rather in this point read some learned discourse, than deliver mine opinion: nevertheless, in such an obstruse difficulty, he that speaketh most apparently and probably, saith the best: and therefore I will set down those forms or manners of motion which occur to my mind and seem likeliest.  
The first is a certain sympathy, correspondence, or proportion betwixt our souls and music: and no other cause can be yielded. Who can give any other reason, why the loadstone draweth iron, but a sympathy of nature? Why the Needle, touched but with such a stone, should never leave looking towards the North Pole; who can render other reason, than sympathy of nature? If we make a survey of all birds of the air, fishes of the sea, beasts of the land, we shall find every sort affect a proper kind of food: a lion will eat no hay, nor a bull beef; a horse eateth bread, and a leopard abhorreth it: a kite liveth upon carrion, and a hen cannot endure it: if a man should beat his brain to find out the reason, no better can be given, than sympathy of nature. So we may say, that such is the nature of our souls, as music hath a certain proportionat sympathy with them: as our tastes have with such varieties of dainty cates, our smelling such variety of odours, etc.  
The second manner of this miracle in nature, some assign and ascribe to God's general providence, who when these sounds affect the ear, produceth a certain spiritual quality in the soul, the which stirreth up one or other passion, according to the variety of voices, or consorts of instruments. Neither this is to be marveled at, for the very same upon necessity we must put in the imagination, the which not being able to dart the forms of fancies, which are material; into the understanding, which is spiritual, therefore where nature wanteth, God's providence supplieth. So corporal music being unable to work such extraordinary effects in our souls, God by his ordinary natural providence produceth them. The like we may say of the creation of our souls; for men being able to produce the body, but unable to create the soul, man prepareth the matter, and God createth the form: so in music, men sound and hear, God striketh upon, and stirreth up the heart.  
The third manner more sensible & palpable is this, that the very sound itself, which according to the best philosophy, is nothing else but a certain artificial shaking, crispling, or tickling of the air (like as we see in the water crispled, when it is calm, and a sweet gale of wind ruffleth it a little; or when we cast a stone into a calm water, we may perceive divers warbling natural circles) which passeth thorough the ears, and by them unto the heart, and there beateth and tickleth it in such sort, as it is moved with semblable passions. For as the heart is most delicate and sensative, so it perceiveth the least motions and impressions that may be: and it seemeth that music in those celles playeth with the vital and animate spirits, the only instruments and spurs of passions. In like manner we perceive by a little tickling of our sides, or the soles of our feet, how we are moved to laughter, yea and the very heart strings seem in some sort to be moved by this almost senseless motion. And in confirmation hereof, we may bring two apt conjectures: The first is, in our own hands or face, the which if we smooth, tickle, press down, nip, heat, or cool, we perceive divers sorts & diversities of sensations, and feel ourselves sundry ways affected: if such varieties we find in a thick skin, how much more in a tender heart, far more apt to feel than any member else of our body. The second conjecture is, the filing of iron, and scraping of trenchers, which many naturally (yea and almost all men before they be accustomed unto them) abhor to hear, not only because they are ungrateful to the ear, but also for that the air so carved, punisheth and fretteth the heart.  
The last and best manner I take to be, that as all other senses have an admirable multiplicity of objects which delight them, so hath the ear: and as it is impossible to expound the variety of delights, or disgustes, which we perceive by them, and receive in them (for who can distinguish the delights we take in eating fish, flesh, fruit, so many thousand sauces, and commixtions of spices with fish, flesh, and fruit?) so in music, divers consorts stir up in the heart, divers sorts of joys, and divers sorts of sadness or pain: the which as men are affected, may be diversly applied: Let a good and a Godly man hear music, and he will lift up his heart to heaven: let a bad man hear the same, and he will convert it to lust: Let a soldier hear a trumpet or a drum, and his blood will boil and bend to battle; let a clown hear the same, and he will fall a dancing; let the common people hear the like, and they will fall a gazing, or laughing, and many never regard them, especially if they be accustomed to hear them. So that in this, men's affections and dispositions, by means of music, may stir up divers passions, as in seeing we daily prove the like. True it is, that one kind of music may be more apt to one passion than another, as also one object of sight is more proportionat to stir up love, hatred, or pleasure, or sadness, than another. Wherefore the natural disposition of a man, his custom or exercise, his virtue or vice, for most part at these sounds diversificate passions: for I cannot imagine, that if a man never had heard a trumpet or a drum in his life, that he would at the first hearing be moved to wars. Much more might be said in this matter, and yet not all fully satisfy and content a sound judgement, but what occurred unto me in this question I have set down, leaving the choice and approbation, or censure, to them that see more in it than I do.   

How Passions are moved by action. §. 2.  
Orator's, whose project is persuasion, have two principal parts where with they endeavour to compass their purpose, Ornatè dicere, & concinnè agere, To speak eloquenly, and to act aptly: That consisteth specially upon proper words and sound reasons, this in a certain moderation of the voice and qualifications of gestures. We said above, that external actions as voice, and gestures, were signs of internal passions; and there we taught, how thorough those windows a man might pass with the sight of his understanding, and discover the secret affections of another's heart: the which ground and undoubted verity, is the foundation whereupon now we must build this third mean to move passsions: for Cicero expressly teacheth that it is almost impossible for an orator to stir up a passion in his auditors, except he be first affected with the same passion himself. Neque enim fieri potest, ut doleat is, qui audit, ut oderit, 
Cicer● lib. de orat.  ut invideat, ut pertimescat aliquid, ut admisericordiam fletumque deducatur, n●si omnes ij motus, quos orator adhiberi volet judici, in ipso oratore impressi esse, atque inusti videbuntur. It cannot be that he which heareth should sorrow, hate, envy, or fear any thing, that he should be induced to compassion or weeping, except all those motions the orator would stir up in the judge, be first imprinted and marked in the orator himself. And therefore Horace well observed, that he which will make me weep must first weep himself.  

Si vis me floor, dolendum est 
De art. poet.   
Primum tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent.   

If thou wilt have me weep, a doleful breast  
First show: and then thy woes will me molest:   
And the philosophical and moral reason hereof is most apert, because with them it is a common received axiom, Nemo dat quod non habet: a man cannot communicate 
August. lib. 2. de lib. arb. cap. 17.  that he wanteth, Quod in causis univocis est semper verum. And therefore how shall one who hath no feeling of the passion he would persuade, induce an other by passion to accept or reject it? For if thy reasons move not thee, why wouldst thou have them to move 
Aristo. 1. post.  me? Propter quod unumquodque tale & illud magis: If my hand be hot for the fire, the fire must be more hot itself: if my chamber be lightsome for the beams of the sun, the sun itself must be more lightsome: If I must be moved by thy persuasions, first thou must show me by passion, they persuaded thyself. And therefore no marvel if many preachers persuade not the people to virtue and piety; for they seeing the instructors want in themselves that they endeavour to persuade to others, let all their sermons enter in at one ear, and slip out at another. Ab immundo quis mundabitur: who shallbe cleansed by 
Eccles. 34.  the unclean? For as Saint Gregory well noteth, Manus quae sordes abluit, munda esse debet: the hand which washeth filth away, should be clean. True it is that the people ought to follow the Godly doctrine of their preachers, although their lives be corrupted, for so Christ hath commanded, because they sit in the chair of Moses. Nevertheless let them be assured one day to smart for it, in that they prepared and disposed not themselves to be fit instruments for such eminent functions. Therefore if we intent to imprint a passion in another, it is requisite first it be stamped in our hearts: for thorough our voices, eyes, and gestures, the world will pierce and thoroughly perceive how we are affected. And for this cause the passion which is in our breast must be the fountain and origen of all external actions; and as the internal affection is more vehement, so the external persuasion will be more potent: for the passion in the persuader seemeth to me, to resemble the wind a trumpeter bloweth in at one end of the trumpet, and in what manner it proceedeth from him, so it issueth forth at the other end, and cometh to our ears; even so the passion proceedeth from the heart, and is blown about the body, face, eyes, hands, voice, and so by gestures passeth into our eyes, and by sounds into our ears: and as it is qualified, so it worketh in us. But I know some would understand the cause, why a good reason in the preacher or orator will not suffice to persuade the people, unless they themselves be affected with the like passion? I answer, that wise men are most moved with sound reasons, and less with passions: contrariwise the common people or men not of deep judgement, are more persuaded with passions in the speakers; the reason is, because as we have two senses of discipline especially, the eyes & the ears: reason entereth the eats; the passion wherewith the orator is affected passeth by the eyes, for in his face we discover it, and in other gestures: the eyes are more certain messengers and less to be doubted of, for we many times suspect the reasons lest they be frivolous, although we cannot answer them; but those passions we see, nature imprinteth them deeper in our hearts, and for most part they seem so evident, as they admit no tergiversation: wherefore the evidence and certainty of the passion, persuadeth much more effectually the common people, than a suspected reason: and the suspicion of sophistication is much more increased when we see it not work that effect in the teacher which he would stir up in the hearer. Again, usually men are more moved with deeds than words, reasonable persuasions resemble words, affectual passions are compared to deeds. Furthermore the passion passeth not only thorough the eyes, but also pierceth the ear, and thereby the heart; for a flexible and pliable voice, accommodated in manner correspondent to the matter whereof a person entreateth, conveyeth the passion most aptly, pathetically, and almost harmonically, and every accent, exclamation, admiration, increpation, indignation, commiseration, abomination, exanimation, exultation, fitly (that is distinctly, at time and place, with gesture correspondent, and flexibility of voice proportionat) delivered, is either a flash of fire to incense a passion, or a basin of water to quench a passion incensed.  
A man therefore furnished himself with the passion or affection he wisheth in his auditors, showing it with voice and action, although his reasons be not so potent, hath no doubt a most potent mean to persuade what he list. Wherefore Demosthenes, as of all Orators the prince for action, so he defined, that the principal part of 
Cicero in Brut.  an Oration was action; the second, the same; the third, no other than action. Isocrates, otherwise called the father of eloquence, for lack of a good voice never pleaded publicly. Cicero saith, some were viri diserti, that is, very eloquent, but for lack of action or rather untowardness, habiti sunt infants, they were accounted infants: and I have seen some preachers very mean scholars, and in truth otherwise but silly men, yet for that they excelled in action, all the world followed them. For action is either a certain visible eloquence, or an eloquence of the body, or a comely grace in delivering conceits, or an external image of an internal mind, or a shadow of affections, or three springs which flow from one fountain, called vox, vultus, vita, voice, countenance, life, that is, the affection poureth forth itself by all means possible, to discover unto the present beholders and auditors, how the actor is affected, and what affection such a case and cause requireth in them: by mouth he telleth his mind; in countenance he speaketh with a silent voice to the eyes; with all the universal life and body he seemeth to say, Thus we move, because by the passion thus we are moved, and as it hath wrought in us so it ought to work in you. Action then universally is a natural or artificial moderation, qualification, modification, or composition of the voice, countenance, and gesture of body proceeding from some passion, and apt to stir up the like: for it seemeth, that the soul playeth upon these three parts, as a musician upon three strings, and according to his striking so they sound.  
A number of precepts Orators prescribe about these three parts, and labour extremely by art to perfect and accomplish the rude indigested motions of nature: to them therefore I will leave the minching of this matter in particularities, and only set down certain generalities.  
First, although art supply the defects of nature, yet if a man have not a good natural ability, it is impossible by art to come to any perfection for this manner of motion. The reason hereof is manifest, because as in music, he that wanteth a tunable voice by nature, although he otherwise excel in the art of music, yet it were less pain to hear him say than sing. And I have known most exquisite musicans unable to sing aptly five notes: so in action, he that wanteth a good voice, a good nimble eye, a proportionat body, and other parts natural, may speak with reason, but never almost aptly for persuasion: indeed if the abilities of nature be not very untoward, art may correct many defects of nature: as Demosthenes had a little lisping at first, but by labour and diligence amended. Isocrates impediments were incorrigible, and therefore all his labour had been lost, if he had employed himself to acting.  
Secondly, he that will act well, must of necessity stir up first that affect in himself, he intendeth to imprint in the hearts of his hearers; and the more vehement the passion is, the more excellent action is like to ensue. The reason is, for, as I said above, the voice, eyes, and gestures sound without, as the heart striketh within: and therefore the vehementer passion venteth forth, the livelier action. Yet here must one or two cautions be considered: First in ire and indignation, that the passion and action relish not of some private quarrel or revenge; for than it loseth all the force and grace of persuasion, because the passion smelleth then of proper interest and utility, and consequently will be accounted inordinate and vicious. Secondly in fear and sadness, that they render not the actions vile and abject: for then the passion will rather be occasion or cause to smother and kill them, than to revive and animate them.  
Thirdly, every part of action ought to express the mind as gravely, as prudently, as solidly as may be: The reason is, because he that publicly intendeth to persuade, must be esteemed a wise, and a good man; wisdom must make the auditors believe he erreth not upon ignorance, honesty must induce them to think he will not lie: therefore all his actions ought to be prudent and grave: for if they be any way light or rash, then presently he will be suspected, either not to have premeditated maturely his matter, or not to regard what he saith, or not to be so settled in virtue and knowledge as such an important matter requireth: for levity and rashness, at least argue imprudence, inconsideration, immortification, and precipitation, which all are capital enemies to deep consolation, specially in matters which concern persuasion to virtue, or dissuasion from vice, exhortation to goodness, or dehortation from illness. Wherefore in action all levity must be avoided: In voice, that the words be not pronounced too fast, nor any light or scurilous word enter in: In face, that the eye range not abroad vagabond like, nor be tossed or turned too lightly; that the orator make no faces, writhing of mouth, wrinkling of nose, or too much shaking of head: Ingesture, no tickling with fingers, quickly wresting of the body, light going, or much gesticulation.  
Fourthly, he ought to endeavour, that every part of action imitate as lively as may be the nature of the passion: Sextus Philosophus said our body was imago animi, because the manners of the soul followed the temper of the body, and therefore he that knew perfectly this, could not be ignorant of that: so the actions of the body should be, in a perfect persuader, an image of the passion in the mind. But how shall this be performed? Two general rules at this present occur unto my memory, not very hard to be learned, but exceeding profitable to be practised.  
The first is, that we look upon other men appassionat, how they demean themselves in passions, and observe what and how they speak in mirth, sadness, ire, fear, hope, etc. what motions are stirring in the eyes, hands, body, etc. And then leave the excess and exorbitant levity or other defects, and keep the manner corrected with prudent mediocrity: and this the best may be marked in stage players, who act excellently; for as the perfection of their exercise consisteth in imitation of others, so they that imitate best, act best. And in the substance of external action for most part orators and stage-players agree: and only they differ in this, that these act feignedly, those really; these only to delight, those to stir up all sorts of passions according to the exigency of the matter; these intermingle much levity in their action to 
Cicer lib. 3. de Orat.  make men laugh, those use all gravity, grace, and authority to persuade: wherefore these are accounted ridiculous, those esteemed prudent. But a discreet orator may see in them what he may amend, and what he may follow. If there were an excellent preacher, who were admirable not only for doctrine, but also for action, he would serve as a glass for every orator to behold the beauty or blots of his action.  
Secondly love, desire, and joy, require a plain, pleasant, soft, mild, gentle voice, and the like countenance: true it is that a discourse sermon or oration being woven with various periods, and compounded of sundry parts, generally cannot be said to admit one only sort of pronunciation, action, or gesture: because although we intent for example to induce our auditors to love God, to obey their prince, etc. yet reason requireth, and art perscribeth, that our probations be often grounded upon contraries, incommodities, disgraces, punishments, and divers inconveniences, which would ensue upon the want and defect thereof: and therefore in every part and period, the nature and quality of the affection, must rule and moderate the voice and action.  
Hatred and ire exact a vehement voice, and much gesture a pronunciation sharp, often falling with pathetical repetitions, iterated interrogations, proving, confirming, and urging reasons: the manner of this action we may best discover in witty women when they chide; because although their excess be vicious and not to be imitated, yet for that they let nature work in her kind, their furious fashion will serve for a good mean to perceive the external manage of this passion. Their voice is loud and sharp, and consequently apt to cut, which is proper to ire and hatred, which wish ill, and intent revenge: their gestures are frequent, their faces inflamed, their eyes glowing, their reasons hurry one in the neck of another, they with their fingers number the wrongs offered them, the harms, injuries, disgraces, and what not, thought said, and done against them: if a prudent orator could in this case batter their matter, circumcise the weakness of the reason, abate the excess of their fury, certainly he might win a pretty form for framing his action.  
In sadness and commiseration, a grave, doleful, plain voice is best, without much variety either of eye, face, or hand, for the orator must show himself in soul and heart afflicted, oppressed, half dead; and therefore no more life ought to appear without external eyes and ears, than is necessary to deliver the force of our reasons, and the grief of our minds: our proofs may be urged and prosecuted but always with a pitiful weeping eye and a fainting lamentable tune: yet notwithstanding, the voice sometimes aught to be interrupted with woeful exclamations and ruthful repetitions, with alas, woe is me, etc. The eye also may be gravely elevated up to heaven, or abjected to earth, but it must be done seldom and marvelous soberly.  
As fear participateth of hatred and sadness, in detesting an imminent evil, and sorrowing lest it befall, and therefore requireth like voice, countenance and action; so, because little it would avail to explain the peril and danger thereof, except we encouraged and stirred up our hearers to attempt means, to prosecute labours, to enterprise difficulties, to encounter and resist the evil: therefore according to Saint Paul's instruction, we must arguere, obsecrare, increpare, accuse, request, reprehend. The example we may have in the passion of a man, whose next neighbours house being set a fire, if he should first of all discover it and perceive that verse likely to be verified in him.  Tunc tua res agitur, paries cum proximus ardet 
Then tend thy turn, when neighbours houses burn. He would not come to his neighbour to advise him of the fire in this manner: O dear neighbour, although I am far unfit by eloquence, to persuade you to look to your house, and carefully to watch about it, least fire fall upon it▪ as now of late I perceive it hath done, therefore provide water and succour, for otherwise both all your goods and mine will be consumed: were not this speech ridicolous? would not men account such a man a fool? nature hath taught us another course in such a case: for he would run crying into the street, fire, fire, help, help, water, water, succour, succour, alas, alas, we are undone, quickly, speedily, run for ladders, pull down this rafter, cut that beam, untile the house; what mean you, stir hands, arms, and legs, hie thee for water, run thou for iron crooks, and hooks, haste, hast, we are all undone. This is the effect of fear indeed, here a man seethe the danger, and endeavoureth to prevent the harm. The like should a preacher do, who knowing his auditors wallowed in sin, ought not with filled phrases, and mellow mouthed words tickle their ears, but with terrors and fears pierce their hearts: he should cry fire of hell, fire fire is kindled, sin is entered into the soul, water water, tears tears, help help, repentance repentance, the devil stands ready to devour you, death watcheth at unawares to strike you, hell mouth gapeth to swallow you down, look about you, stir yourselves, Non in commessationibus & ebrietatibus, non in cubilibus 
Rom. 13.  & impudicilijs, sed induiminm dominum nostrum jesum Christum. Leave off your riots, forsake your vanities, abandon your false deceitful pleasures, put on Christ, imitate his purity, follow his fasting, prosecute his mortification, see you not men die daily upon a sudden, falling into hell? hast hast, flatter not yourselves, time is uncertain, the peril too certain, the punishment eternal, irreparable, inexplicable: thus ought a zealous preacher speak, and so God commandeth him not to speak, but rather to cry, and that incessantly. Clama, ne cesses, 
Isa. 58.  tanquam tuba exalta vocem tuam: & annuntia populo meo scelera eorum, & domui jacob peccat● eorum. Cry, cease not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet, tell my people their sins, and the house of jacob their offences.  
Fiftly, although exquisite action be first commenced by nature and then perfitted by art, yet both nature and art require practise and exercise, otherwise all precepts though practical will be resolved into mere speculations: and when these three concur together with other natural abilities otherwise requisite, questionless they will make a man potent in pleading & persuading, and enable him to work wonders among a multitude of men.   

How to move Passions by reason. §. 4.  
AS reason concerneth the principal part of man, so reason specially should stir up, or suppress the affections of man. But because most men, though reasonable by nature, yet declare themselves most unreasonable, if not brutish, by action, following rather the allurement of senses, than obeying the persuasions of prudence; therefore this mean must either be handled very artificially, or else all our endeavours will be but labour lost, for if we intent to persuade them by profound reasons, who either understand them not at all, or else very superficially, we shall moon them to loathe our inducements, and thereupon dislike and perhaps condemn our cause. Wherefore the passion mover must look narrowly to this point, & imitate herein the common practice of prudent Physicians, who apply their medicine to the same maladies with particular respect and consideration of the patient's temper, and so to a little child they will not give the like purgation they would to a strong man, nor to a delicate lady, though affected with the same ague, which to a steely stomached boor of the country. In like manner, common people and profound doctors, are not to be persuaded with the same arguments, for popular persuasions these prise not, & deep demonstrations they pierce not. How to fail right upon both, & not decline to either extreme in persuading the one part severally, requireth great prudence, and a sound judgement. Yet I think there may be found out a mean to propound & deliver deep reasons perspicuously, and plausible persuasions sharply, so that the plainness of the one will make them plausible, and the acuteness in the other will allay their flashnesse and render them pleasant.  
First of all it is to be noted, that not every kind of reason hath force to stir up a passion, but an urgent and potent, either really or at least in conceit: this we prove by experience, for common and ordinary motives move us not much to love or like a thing: wherefore God to induce the Israelits to wish and desire the land of promise, described it as a country slowing with milk and honey, etc. and commonly every one who would persuade us to love or affect any thing, highly commendeth it; or contrariwise if a man would have us to hate and detest any thing, he endeavoureth as much as may be to make apparent the excess of the evil or great damages it apporteth. Passions than must be moved with urgent reasons, reasons urging proceed from solid amplifications, amplifications are gathered from common places, common places fit for oratorical persuasion concern a part of Rhetoric called Invention. Wherefore it were requisite for an excellentstir-passion to have in a readiness all those places which orators assign, & account their arcinall or storehouse of persuasive provision. I will briefly insinuat them, supposing the reader and practiser of this point a scholar both in Rhetoric and Philosophy, for otherwise he shall receive small profit hereby, and only I will deliver him a short plain perspicuous method how to call to memory these places; that by them, not only in this matter of passions but in all discourses, he may be enabled presently almost in a glance to survey, and comprehend all arguments and reasons which occur in his present affair.  
Secondly, a philosopher cannot be ignorant of the four first questions, which in the posteriors he is taught to demand of every subject. Quid nominis, Quid rei, Qualis sit, Propter quid sit. The name of the thing, the nature of the thing, the proprieties and accidents inherent in the thing, the final and efficient causes of the thing. Unto these four heads I will reduce all those topical or Rhetorical places, which they call insita intrinsical, and are as it were inserted in the bowels of the thing, or have any persuasive reference unto the thing: for unto Quid nominis, which is the name, and affordeth 
1 Quid nominis o● notat●o.  sundry persuasions to them who are acquainted with divers languages, specially the Hebrew, and next the Greek, whose words are very significant and full of etymologies, for in the Hebrew most of their substantives are derived from radical verbs. To this place five more are reducible, 
2 Coniugata.  as Coniugata, that is, when divers words lie linked together, or proceed from one, as from Doctrina, which is in the mind, issue doctus, for affecting the subject wherein it lodgeth, and doctè, for qualifying his speeches, writings, and other literal actions; learning, learned, learnedly; wisdom, wise, wisely; virtue, virtuous, virtuously. Things which we name, have always some being, either real or possible (for chimeres and entia fictitia, although they have a being in conceptu, yet not discussive for questions 
A●sit.  or disputes) which we call Ansit, and this methodically 
● Anres sit possibil●s.  we divide into four problems or questions: as, if the thing be possible, if convenient, if necessary, if done. As for example, we may demand about the incarnation of Christ, if it be possible, that the second person in trinity could unite his person unto mankind, and deprive it of the own and proper: many infidels deny the possibility. 
4 An conveniens.  But admit it were possible, yet some other pagans deny that his incarnation was convenient, that we should abase so mightily his majesty as to cover his immortality with the mortal garments of our miseries. Yet admit it were possible and convenient, notwithstanding there 
5 An necessary.  may be another question asked, whether it were necessary such a mystery should be effected: and suppose it was necessary, if God would have his justice exactly satisfied and a full ransom paid for the sins of man, yet there 
6 Ansacta.  remaineth the last doubt, whither God really defacto performed this or no.  

Quid sit.  
This question leadeth our memory necessarily to six other places: the nature of the thing representeth the definition, 
7 De●initio.  for there is no nature (except summa genera which are parts of nature) but they are difinible: so we have locum à difinitione, as, homo est animal rationale, or, constans ex anima intellectuale & corpore organicae: in which definitions, the first which is metaphysical, affordeth two places, à genere and à differentia. And the second, 
8 Genus. 9 Differentia. 10 Materia. 11 Forma.  which is physical, showeth us other two, viz. the material and formal causes: and for that every nature defined hath either under it species or individua, here hence we have the sixth place à speciebus, the Rhetorians call it à 
12 Speci●bus.  forma.   

Qualis sit.  
The question Qualis sit demandeth to know the proprieties of the thing: but we will extend it a little farther and comprehend all accidents and what else may any way affect and qualify the thing, & so this question will open the way to an endless treasury of invention. First in it shall be considered all the proprieties and effects which necessarily ensue: as for example: Is it laudable? then it is virtuous: Is it virtuous? then laudable: Is the sun risen? then it is day: is the sun set? then is it night: and contrariwise. This the rhetoricians call locum ab antecedentibus 
13 Locus ab anteced 〈◊〉 & consequen 〈◊〉.  & consequentibus. Secondly we will anex hereunto all inseparable accidents: as blackness in a crow, heat in every heart that liveth, etc. Thirdly, all separable accidents, which be innumerable: we may help ourselves for discourse sake, and the better further our invention if we reduce them to the nine accidental predicaments, 
14 Locus ●b ad 〈◊〉.  and make a general survey over them: and commonly in the four species of quality, action or passion, relation, etc. we shall ●ind divers means to persuade our matter. And first the predicament of quantity representeth unto me equality or in equality: and thereby I 
15 Locus à comparatione.  have locum à comparatione maiorum, minorum, & aequalium; as if Christ washed his disciples feet, much more ought we for humility sake, do the same one to another.  
The predicament of quality affordeth unto me omnia bona & mala gratiae & peccati, bona animae, bona corporis, bona fortunae. The perfections of grace, as faith, 
All these have reference ad loc●●● 14. qui est ab adiunctis.  hope, charity, the inspirations of God; the suggestions of the devil, the allurements of the world: the acquisite perfections or imperfections of the soul, as sciences, arts, trades, policy, prudence, wisdom, or any other intellectual ability good or bad; virtue, vice, justice, injustice, etc. Bodily perfections or imperfections consist in health or sickness, strength or weakness, beauty or deformity, towardness or unaptness to any thing, virtuous or vicious inclinations. The favours or crosses of fortune comprehend, riches, or poverty, friends, or foes, fecundity of children or sterility, nobility or baseness of birth: whereunto we may reduce the antiquity of a family, or how a man is the first foundation or origen of his house.  
In the predicament of relation I find occasion to call to memory three places. First à contrarijs, for this place 
16 Locus à contrarijs.  includeth the four species of opposition: contraria, relativa, contradictoria, privativa. Secondly, likeliness or unlikeliness are also relatives, and consequently belong to this same predicament; and we have Locum à simili & 
17 Locus à simili & dissimili.  dissimili. And for that things which repugn any way together, carry with them a spice or release of contrariety: therefore here we will settle locum à repugnantibus. 
18 Locus à non repugnantibus.  As for example, he speaketh ill of him, therefore he loveth him not; he speaketh well of him, therefore he hateth him not.  
Considering the predicament of action and passion, in regard they may be affected with sundry circumstances, which better or impair them, therefore I thought good to set down this rule, which in general distinguisheth their otherwise involved confusion.  

Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxilijs, cur, quomodo, quando.  
Who, what, what time, and where,  
How, why, what helps were there.   
Who: notifieth not the person absoluely, which in every human action is required, and the condition of his person: as a king, a magistrate, a bishop, or a clergy man, a dear friend, etc. for if any of these commit an offence, the dignity of the person aggravateth the sin: as judas in injuring Christ, who was one of his disciples, sinned more grievously, than if another man had acted the same trespass.  
What: giveth us to understand the damage or nocument, which casually was annexed, but necessarily proceedeth from our action, or some great good, which thereunto ensueth: as he that killeth a poor man, who by his labour maintained his wife and children: offendeth more heinously, than if he had wanted them.  
What time: insinuateth the season or day, when an enterprise or sin were effected: as the worthy exploits of judith and Hester were greatly to be commended, because they delivered their people, at such times as they were in extreme danger.  
Where: designeth the place: and in respect of this circumstance, i sin of Lucifer in heaven, of Adam in Paradise, theft or dishonesty in the Church, are esteemed more enormous.  
How: showeth the manner of the action, the vehemency of the affection, the intention or excess of malice, the knowledge or ignorance, with what difficulty or facility, with what passion or impediment the action was effected.  
Why: pointeth at the extrinsical end, or remote final cause of the action: as if a man steal to give alms, if he study for honour, if he serve his prince and country mercinarily for hope only of preferment or gain.  
What helps: this circumstance remonstrateth the council, aiders, abetters, or any other way favourers of our actions, as also the instruments or servants we used in the managing thereof.   

Propter quid.  
As this question inquireth the cause of the effect to be proved by demonstration, so it ministereth us occasion to remember these two places, à causis, or ab effectis. 
19 Locus à causi●. 20 Locus ab effects.   
To these twenty places we may add ten more, grounded upon authority, largely declared by Melchior Canus in his twelve books De locis Theologius; but for that these concern specially divines, and they may easily commit them to memory, therefore I will remit this labour to the related author.  
This short abstract of invention I have rather set down to help the memory, than to instruct the understanding; for I am not ignorant, that this matter requireth an ample volume, and both rhetoricians and Logicians spend much pains, and write large discourses thereupon. But for that I perceived in myself, that a multitude of places, without a form of method, engendered rather confusion than furthered invention, therefore I have sorted them into heads: because the nature of our memory is such, that if it conceive but an inkling of any matter, presently by the force of discourse, our understanding followeth it: and now having all places reduced to four heads, he had a bad memory could not remember them, and a worse wit which could not draw forth a number of arguments out of them. I cannot deny but pregnant spirits and elevated judgements in a moment, almost, pierce their matter, and behold before their eyes a number of sound and substantial reasons, which environ the question proposed on every side; but these be few and rare, others need more help: and yet even these also may be greatly furthered, for the best places which consort with common people's capacities, are for most part out of learned men's books; as similitudes, examples, contrarieties, remote accidents, and circumstances, and therefore they had need of some short remembrance, to pull their wits by the elbow, and will them not to dive too deep, lest they, who by reason should best understand their reasons (I mean the meaner wits, who for most part are general auditors) be deprived of that instruction and information the Orator intendeth, and they expected. Thirdly, we must observe, that in amplifications (which are in effect nothing else but either exaggerations, or cumulations of reasons) divers things are to be noted.  
First, in amplifications all conceits should relish a certain greatness▪ and carry with them some sort of excess: if we praise, than the persons and things praised must be commended for some admirable excellency; if we exhort or dissuade, then are to be discovered a sea of great goodness, or a multitude of mighty evils.  
Secondly, the reasons which we amplify, require great perspicuity, and apertnesse in delivery, because the attention which otherwise should be employed about the affection, will wholly be consumed or drawn to the understanding: for it is impossible to attend much at one time both to speculation and affection. Furthermore our speech being cursory, and specially framed for mean capacities, will not be able to make any impression in auditors, except our reasons be marvelous plain & evident.  
Thirdly, our reasons should be largely declared, and yet with sharp, and short variety interlaced: resembling a volley of shot speedily delivered, but not without bullets to batter down the walls of wilful affections. And for this cause we may use pithy short descriptions, compounded of some metaphor annexed with some propriety, which is most usual with orators: as Cicero commendeth histories: for saith he, Histories are the witnesses 
1. D● Orat.  of times, the light of truth, the life of memory, the mistress of life, the messenger of antiquity, etc. so may we in like manner describe man to be a shadow of pleasure, a glorious flower, a fading rose, an unsatiable appetite, ● circle of fancies, a running river, a mortal angel, a reasonable beast, a vicious monster declining from his nature, etc. Many similitudes or dissimilitudes, examples, contrarieties, effects repugnant, may easily be invented, readily delivered, and in a moment understood; so that by this means profound conceit shall be facilited, and there with the auditors instructed, delighted, and moved.  
Fourthly, as passions are divers, so motives to stir them up are various, and therefore now method requireth that we descend to the immediate sparks which must set the soul on fire, and kindle the passions, or like winds blow off the ashes, that the coals may be revived: for hitherto we have talked a far off and laid but the first foundations, by these particular motives which follow, passions immediately, properly, & effectually are moved.   

Motives to love.  
O My God, the soul of my soul, and the life of all true love: these dry discourses of affections, without any cordial affection, have long detained, & not a little distasted me. Now that I come towards the borders of Love, give me leave O loving God, to vent out and evaporat the affects of the heart, and see if I can incense my soul to love thee entirely and suisceratly, and that all those motives which stir up mine affections to love thee, may be means to inflame all their hearts which read this treatise penned by me. But alas; where shall I begin to parley of affections, who am so stained with imperfections, and corrupted with infections? Come, come you sacred cherubins, you morning stars of never darkening light, descend you Seraphins, you burning lamps of love: and tell me what motives move you to love your God so vehemently, and uncessantly? I know you will answer, that your love is of another stamp than mine, and therefore that your language cannot be understood in the land of mortal men. Ah my God ever loved too little, & shall I never be able neither to love, nor speak of love enough? shall I adventure to weave a web of such subtle golden threads, in such a rotten rusty loom? did not Isay excuse himself for speaking of thee, because his lips were polluted and durst not attempt so mighty an enterprise, till with a burning coal of love his mouth was purified? Did not David thirst after thee, like the thirsty Hart the fountains of clear water, and yet he exclaimed, Imperfectum meum viderunt oculi tu●, Thou hast O Lord beheld mine imperfection? Did not the Seraphins 
Esay. 6.  glowing with fiery affections, vail their feet with golden wings, thereby showing a reverent shame of their imperfect love, as unworthy of such a supreme majesty? And what, gracious Lord, shall I think, speak, or write of thy love, whose best knowledge is scarce comparable with their ignorance, whose purest affections are but inordinate passions, in respect of their fervent desires, and inflamed charity? But alas, to say nothing, were to admite thee, but with blind ignorance: to speak not condignly, were irreverently to converse with thee: What? shall I then neither speak, nor hold my peace? O fountain of love, such is the abyss of thy goodness, that thou reputest that enough, when we do all we can: endue me therefore, O bountiful God, with thy grace, that since I cannot speak so worthily of thee, as thou deserves; at least I may speak in such sort of thee, as at an unworthy sinners hands thou expects. A long season (O my God, the wary waigher of all my ways) have I ranged abroad and reveled among thy creatures: I cannot say I loved them, for then why did they cloy me and annoy me? neither can I aver that I hated them, for they delighted me. Alas, they pleased me, because they were sprinkled and bedewed with some drops of amability, which thou didst let fall upon them from the immensive Ocean of thy bounty: they molested me, because I loved not them aright, that is, in thee, and for thee, but for themselves and my delight. After I had prodigally spent my patrimony by surfeiting in pleasure, and therein observing neither law, rule, nor measure, at last I returned to thee, & found all those motives in thy majesty in a far more eminent degree united, than I before in all the vast multitude of thy creatures, had tried dispersed. I loved my parents, as 
The first motive of Love is parentage.  authors of my being, and imparters of life, and this without teacher by nature I was instructed. When after I turned mine eyes to thee, I perceived there was but a small spark of paternity in my progenitors, compared to thee. Thou gave them bodies, being, and life to be parents: thou preserved, conserved, and enabled them: thou created my soul alone, wherein they neither had part nor action: thou form my body, when they never minded me: thou hast kept me day and night, when they never remembered me: yea, when both they and I were fast asleep, thy watchful eye waked over both them and me. In the progress of my tender years I loved them who 
Benevolence.  bestowed favours and benefits upon m●: and this I perceived not to be a thing proper to men alone, but also incident to beasts, who love and fawn upon their benefactors. When I lifted up mine ●ies to thee, and considered the meat I eat, the drink I drank, the clothes I wore, the air I breathed, the senses I used, the life I enjoyed, the wit wherewith I reasoned, the will wherewith I affected, all were thy daily gifts, hourly, momently, yea instantly by thy provident hand upheld and maintained; I concluded with myself, that of all benefactors thou was the best, and therefore deserved to be loved most: and for that every instant I wholly in body and soul, life and being, depended upon thee; so in every instant, if it were possible, I should consecrate myself entirely, with a most grateful remonstrance and recognition of thy benefits bestowed upon me. When years grew upward, and reason riper, in reading ancient, profane, and sacred writers, I found in them certain worthy men highly commended and celebrated, here a Solomon for wisdom, a David for valour, a Hercules, an Achilles, an Alexander, a Caesar, a Scipio, an Hannibal, a Constantine, in panegyrical Orations, in heroical verses blazed abroad to all the world present, and registered for record to all posterity, as 
Third motive. Excellency.  valiant captains, prudent governors, glorious Heroes, mirrors and majesties for their times in the world. And it seemed to me, that my heart was drawn to love & affect such personages, for albeit I admired their eminency above the rest, yet I know not how, but such an excellency wrung out and enforced a reverent affection in my breast: for I esteemed them worthy of love, whom so many wise men thought worthy of admiration, and reputed as worthies of the world. Afterwards with the eyes of my consideration I glanced (O my God of infinite perfection) upon thee: & all these renowned Heroes resembled to my sight, so many mirmicoleons or lions amongst emmets (who surpass them a little in greatness and force) in comparison of lions indeed for might, and Olyphants for immensity, nay less, for what are all monarches and mights compared to thee, but folia quae vento rapiuntur, 
job. 13.  dried and withered leaves blown abroad with dust in the wind, with a blast of thy mouth they are blown down from their regal thrones, withered with diseases, dispersed in sepulchres, consumed to dust, and every moment, when it pleafeth thee, annihilated & reduced to nothing. What hath their power to do with thine omnipotency? their base excellency with thy supreme majesty? their prudence, policy, stratagems, with thine infinite wisdom, and incomprehensible counsels? Ah my God of boundless blessedness, as the highest pitch of their pre-eminence is vile vassalage compared to thee, so thy love should disdain not only to be equalled, but also conferred with theirs.  
The further I passed, the more objects alluring to love 
4. Motive. Beauty.  I discovered: for beauty of bodies, the glory of nature, the glimpse of the soul, a beam of thy brightness, I see, so enticed men's senses, inueagled their judgements, led captive their affections, and so ravished their minds, that such hearts were more present in thoughts & desires with such bodies where they liked and loved, than with that body wherein they sojourned and lived. And what was this beauty which so fed their appetites? it could not be certainly any other thing than the apt proportion and just correspondence of the parts and colours of visible bodies, which first delighted the eye, and then contented the mind, not unlike the harmony of proportionable voices and instruments, which seed the ear; and health which issueth from the just proportion & temper of the four humours; and some dainty taste, which ensueth from the mixture of divers delicate meats compounded in one. This harmony of mortal bodies (O my God the beauty of beauty) hath disconsorted, and consequently deformed many an immortal soul. Thou neither hast body nor parts, and therefore art thou not beautiful? Why then didst thou say, & pulchritudo agri mecum est: the beauty 
Psal. 39 Isay. 66.  of the field is with me and in me? If thou didst argument profoundly, and conclude infallibly, that thou wast not 
Psal: 73. Luck. 12.  barren, who imparted fecundity to others: questionless thou must by right reason be beautiful, who decks and adorns the poor lilies in the field, with a more glorious mantle than ever covered the corpse of sage Solomon, for all his treasures & wisdom. Thou wantest grosle, massy, terrene, corruptible parts, wherein according to our material sensual conceits, beauty consisteth: but thy beauty transcendeth this infinitely more, than all the world the least grain of sand which lieth upon the Ocean shore. For thy harmony, thy consort, thy proportion, springeth from the admirable union of all thy perfections: all thy creatures produced and producible, in thee are united, the lamb and the lion, fire and water, whiteness and blackness, pleasure and sadness; without strife or contention, without hurt or injury, in a divine harmony and most amiable beauty dwell, reside, and live in thee. Some philosophers said truly, albeit not so plainly as all common people could perceive them, That thou wast a centre out of which issued innumerable lines (they meant thy creatures) the further they extended from thee, the further they were disunited among themselves, and the nearer they approached unto thee, more strictly they were linked together, and at last all united and identified in thee their centre, last end, and rest. Gardens and fields are beautiful, palaces, cities, provinces, kingdoms, bodies of men and women, the heavens, the angels, and in fine, the whole universal world framed in number, weight, and measure, all parts keeping their places, order, limits, proportion and natural harmony, all these in particular in themselves, and combined in one, are enameled with a most gracious vagisnesse, lustre, and beauty: all which proceeded from thee, and resideth in thee, and are comprised in a far more sublime and eminent degree in thee, than in themselves, or than an angel of gold containeth in value ten shillings of silver: for in themselves they are limited in essence, and kept within the narrow bounds and banks of natural perfection, but these little rivers joined in thee, find an illimitate and boundless sea, wherein they have neither bottom nor bound. What shall I say of you three, three sacred persons in Trinity, distinguished really, and yet indistinct essentially? doth not this distinction cause a difference, and this admirable union an inexplicable consonance? Are not your three persons hypostases or subsistences, the infinite bounds, lists, and limits of an interminat, immensive, and endless essence? Are not these the borders of your beauty? your attributes of bounty, simplicity, unity, verity, eternity, immensity, impassibility, wisdom, providence, omnipotency, charity, justice, mercy, clemency, benignity, magnificency, in some sort distinguished, yet really the same perfection are your blessed intellectual face: those amiable colours, that glorious beauty, that majestical countenance, that celestial brightness, the Angels desire to behold, the blessed saints contemplate, and we wandering pilgrims aspire unto in the end of our peregrination, the which will feed us without satiety, content us without appetite of change, wherein consisteth all happiness, joy, and rest.  
Beauty is the rind of bounty, and those creatures are 
5 Motive. mountie or goodness.  more beautiful which are more bountiful: For bounty and goodness resemble the Sun, beauty the beams, bounty the spring, beauty the river, bounty the heart, beauty the face, bounty the tree, beauty the flower, bounty the flesh, beauty the feathers. This truth cannot be denied: for if that beauty be nothing else but a just proportion of parts, with an apt correspondence of temper in colours in these inferior bodies, or brightness and lightness in the superior, and such semblable perfections in souls and spirits, no doubt but better parts, finer colours, purer lights proportionably combined, cause a more excellent beauty, show, and lustre: as the finer gold, the richer stones (if art be correspondent) the more vage and beautiful jewel. But here alas, in human corpses it falleth out contrariwise: for although indeed, a beautiful body in a child, a youth, a man, a woman, an old man (for a different beauty adorneth all these) argue a better substance, and a more sound corporal perfection; yet the souls of such, by the malice of men and women, are commonly worse; for beauty they make an instrument of vice, which by right reason should be an ornament of virtue: and therefore such beauty ill beseemeth such bodies, and fitly the holy ghost compareth 
Circul●s aurtus in nuribus suis, 〈◊〉 pulchra & fatua. Prou. c. 11.  a woman's beautiful body, linked with a bad soul, to a ring of gold in a swine's snout, which ever lies rooting in dirt and mire. Bounty then and beauty by nature are linked together, though perverse souls like stinking corpses lie buried in beautiful sepulchres, though rusty blades be covered with golden sheaths, though dragon's gall and bane of Basilisks stand closed up in viols of Crystal. Yet howsoever by sympathy of nature they be connexed, and by malicious affections, in us disconsorted, nevertheless, I have always proved by experience, that bounty and goodness were principal motives of love, yea, to say truth, I knew never thing loved, but that it was gilded with goodness. If I loved learning, it was because it was good in itself, and a perfection of mine understanding; if meat or drink, because they were good for my body, to restore the forces vanished; if clothes, because they kept me warm: and finally, whatsoever I affected, I palpably felt it either good in itself, or good for myself. And thereupon I remember a sound philosopher pronounced a solemn axiom, as undoubted in speculation, so daily experimented in action, Bonum est, quod omnia appetunt, Goodness is that which all things affect. All beasts, though reasonless, yet in love follow this general instinct and inclination of reason, imprinted in their hearts (O infinite wisdom!) with the indoleble characters of thy providence, to affect nothing but that in some sort concerneth their good. Ah my God of boundless bounty, Nemo bonus nisi solus Deus, thou 
Luk. 18.  only essentially of thyself, without list or limit art good, all things else by participation and limitation. An Angel hath goodness, and therefore is amiable, yet he is but a drop distilled from thee, in that quantity, degree, and measure, thy wisdom prescribed, and his circumferenced nature required. What, O my God, is goodness, but perfection, integrity of essence, completeness and fullness of beauty? What is perfection, but an entire possession of all that such a nature or substance should have? and so thy word witnesseth, that the 
J●itur perfecti ●unt 〈◊〉, & omnis ernatus ●●rum. Gen. 2. 1.  heavens were framed perfect, because they wanted nothing necessary or requisite to their nature: and for all this, the heavens want wit and reason, howbeit they are perfect in their senseless kind. But in thee what want can their be? no parts, because thou art simple without composition; no perfection can be scant in fullness and intention, where all are infinite. And therefore if in earth I thirsted after the unpure drops of thy created goodness (compared to thine increate bounty) how much more should I thirst after thee, the pure Crystal fountain of life? Ah Quam bonus Israel Deus, ijs qui recto sunt cord? 
Psal. 72.  How good is the God of Israel to them who are of a right heart? Trinit as divinarum personarum est summum bonum, quod purgatissimis mentibus cernitur. The Trinity of divine persons (saith Austen thy servant) is a supreme 
Aug. 1. de Trini. cap. 2. circa init●um.  goodness, which is beheld with most purified minds. Bonus est Dominus sperant●bus in eum, animae quaerenti illum. Our Lord is good to them that hope in him, to that soul which inquireth for him. What then, my God the abyss of bounty, art thou not good to all, but to such souls as search for thee, as are purified from offences, as are right hearted? No no thy goodness no less extendeth her sphere, than thine omnipotency her might: and as nothing ever received being but by thine almighty hand, so nothing integrity of being but by thy bountiful hand. What man ever lived and enjoyed not the heat and light of this visible sun? Or who ever lived or continued life, but by the beams of thine invisible bounty. But true it is and registered in all sacred records of antiquity for an infallible verity, that thy goodness is specially extended & poureth forth her treasures more abundantly upon those good souls who in sincere, pure, affectual, and thirsty hearts seek for thee. Thou art a sea of goodness, favours, and graces, every one may enjoy thee that will with all his heart serve and love thee; howbeit the greater vessel receiveth more abundance.   

The sixth motive to Love is Pleasure.  
IN all the sons of men, and in all sorts of beasts, I daily and hourly discovered, an insatiable desire of delight: and almost nothing loved vehemenrly, but that which was candied with semblable pleasure: it were in vain to demonstrate this by reason, since every moment fresh experience teacheth, that sensualities first step in every action, tendeth to pleasure and solace; and those things she accounteth and prizeth most, which sensually delight her best. O God of incomprehensible wisdom, and ininuestigable providence, how potent is this bait of pleasure, to allure, to deceive, to precipitate unwary souls into eternal misery! It is passed almost in every sense in a moment, and yet the importunity never ceaseth. 
The base and bad conditions of sensual pleasure.  It is beastly (for all senses are common to men with beasts) and yet it seemeth ever to promise a paradise of joy It is most erroneous sophisticating men's minds, and yet beareth, or at least pretendeth a show of reason. It in appearance promiseth rest and quietness, but in effect despoiled the soul of all rest and quietness. It is admirable how men affected with pleasure are changed and metamorphosed from themselves, untroubled with such an inordinate passion. It is exceeding dangerous, and yet for the present it lulleth a man with a world of security. It is for most part vicious, and damnable, and yet for most part and of most persons approved and accepted of as virtuous and laudable. And therefore the bad conditions of sensual pleasure, be such as wise men either wholly disdain them, or use them with such parsimony, that they take them as medicines in a certain careless passage, rather than much desired solaces, not placing in them any extraordinary contentation and rest. For how can that be called delight, which carrieth with it so many just causes of discontentment, nay of baseness, disgrace, remorse of conscience, desert of punishment? Ah my God the fountain of water of life, the true paradise of pleasure, delight of delights, when these transitory follies, or fugitive fancies, or pernicious errors, or sweet poisons, or sugared gall, so gulled and misled my soul, why had I not recourse to thee? how came it to pass that I considered not those floods of pleasure prepared for them that love thee? De torrent voluptatis potabis eos? The symphony and sacred melody of Angels ever sounding in the land of the living, and never ceasing for them that screw thee? Whywaighed I not those ineffable joys that never eye see, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived, which thou hast & ever hadst in a readiness for them who serve thee as subjects, obey thee as servants, love thee as children, converse with thee as friends? Ah sovereign sweetness surpassing the honey & honey comb, if I had but tasted one drop of those divine dainties, if I had but sipped one spoonful of those sacred liquors, it had been no marvel if I had served thee, endured all molestfull labours, supported all disgraceful injuries: for that sweetness would have allayed all these bitternesses, that gain extenuated and consumed to nothing all this pain which we sustain in this miserable exile, But what if sensible feeling want, shall infallible faith fail? It should not: but in whom doth it not? for if lively faith were excited, these fragile pleasures would be despised. Yet thou hast not wholly, O bountiful God, reserved all thy spiritual, honest, virtuous, supernatural, divine pleasures, for the citizens of thy heavenly Jerusalem; but even in the barren defect of this perilous peregrination, thou hast let fall a certain kind of manna, though not to be gathered in great abundance, yet in a little measure and sufficient quantity; thou hast refreshed in some sort thy thirsty people with most sweet water distilled from the rock de petra melle saturavit eos. For what are those admirable consolations thy faithful friends feel in the inundation of their adversities, tolerated for thy sake, but a sacred Manna in the desert? What are those comforts, which good souls gather even out of Christ's bitter passions, but honey distilled from the craggy rock? What else signify those jubilees of heart, and most secret joys, which proceed from a good conscience grounded upon a confident hope of future salvation, but those great clusters of grapes showed unto them, in sign of the fertility of the future land of promise? What else can prognosticat the sweetness of fervent prayers, but the infinite suavity and happy contentation, which once fervent believing lovers shall enjoy in thy blessed company and heavenly conversation? But few feel these joys in this life: And why? because they will not crack the shell to get the kernel; they refuse to pair the pear, to eat the pulp; they loathe to till the ground, to reap the harvest; they fly the wars, and lose the glory of the victory; they disdain the digging of craggy mountains, and so never find the mine of gold; they shun the pain of pruning their vines, and therefore enjoy not the fruit thereof: in fine, they fly mortification of carnal sensuality, and therefore attain not unto the sweet spiritual consolations of Christian charity. To conjoin them both together, were as possible, as to combine light and darkness, water and fire, the Oynions of Egypt with the heavenly Manna, the food of Angels: for this resolution and infallible conclusion must ever be had in memory, that a man cannot enjoy a paradise in this life, and a future paradise in the life to come.   

The seventh Motive to Love, which is Profit.  
O Sacred Monarch of this mighty frame, into what a disconsorted estate are men fallen. I see it now held for a precept, publicly divulged in matters of State, and as it were registered for a fundamental principle, That all degrees and leagues of princes 
Botero lib. 2. della regio, di stato. cap. della prudenta.  aim at private interest; and therefore that a prince should neither trust to friendship, nor affinity, nor league, nor any other bond, wherein he that dealeth with him, hath not some ground of interest: as though all worldly friendship were founded in one or other sort of utility. But this is not proper to our days alone, for in passed ages an ancient Poet said:  

Donec eris foelix, multos numerabis amicos, 
Philip. 2.   
Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris.   

When fortune smiles, than friends abound,  
When fortune frowns, few friends are found.   
And one more wiser than he, Omnes quaerunt quae sua sunt, All look for interest and private commodities. We said above, that all men naturally love their benefactors, but more generally here we may avouch, that all men love those things whatsoever afford them any profit or utility: a man loves his horse, his house, his servants which are trusty, his possessions, his herds of oxen, and finally, whatsoever addeth or increaseth the goods of Nature or Fortune: and as this love of concupiscence reigneth in all worldly hearts, so it teacheth them to love best that which profiteth them most: and albeit very often it be but base and vicious, yet guided by reason, and ruled by charity, it may be good and virtuous. But what is profit or profitable? That which enableth us, as a mean to get some good end, honest or voluptuous, or agreeable unto us, intended and desisired. And therefore we account possessions profitable, which serve us for necessaries to sustain life: we repute horses profitable, because by them we make our journeys more speedily: we esteem trades and merchandise profitable, because by them we gain richeses, which in effect are all things. What shall I say here, O sovereign Lord? Shall I make thee a mean to get me profit, who art the end of all profits and commodities? Or shall I compare thy majesty with these our vile miseries? Who can be ignorant of thy inexhausted treasures, but he that is ignorant who thou art? Or who doth not know the innumerable means and helps he daily receiveth from thee, to conserve nature, and further grace, but he that knoweth neither himself nor thee? what is thy rain and dew which continually fall and fatten the earth, but our gain purchased without either payment or pain? What is the heat of the Sun and four seasons of the year, so requisite for nature, so beneficial to all mortal men, but daily commodities and hourly profits? what bird in the air, what fish in the sea, what beast in the land, what planet in the heavens, what star in the firmament, what metal in the earth, what flower in the field, what tree in the orchard, what herb in the garden, what root, bark, wood, leaf, flower, or fruit, yieldeth not some emolument to man, serveth not him either for meat, medicine, clothes, exercise, pleasure, or some other convenient end, and consequently are profitable unto him? and thou therefore the root, fountain, and origen of all, profitable in all, by all, and above all. In the spiritual life of our souls, thy sacraments, are conduits of grace; thine inspirations, helps to holiness; thy word a medicine for Ghostly maladies; thy crosses and afflictions, means, for amendment. And thus my God of endless wealth, every creature affording one commodity, with a sounding voice unto my heart, though silent to mine ear, crieth continually and exhorteth me uncessantly, to confer them all to thy honour, who hast so kindly bestowed them upon me, for my good.   

The 8. Motive to Love, which is Honesty.  
I Take not Honesty in this place, as an object of temperance, opposite to dishonesty or impurity: but as a general object to all Virtue, called by Divines and moral Philosophers, Honestum contradistinguished to utile & delectabile, to profitable and delightful: for in the former sense a man may be honest, and yet an unjust person, an Usurer, a Murderer etc. For diverse men may 
Vide Arist●. 9 moral. Nic●. cap. 4. & Pl●●● in Hipparcho.  be chaste of body, who are otherwise addicted to sundry vices in Soul. But here I take Honesty, as comprehending all actions, or good inclinations, or virtuous abilities, tending and bending the Soul to follow Reason, and enabling a man to live like a man: and so Honesty includeth all Virtues, and excludeth all vices.  
We prove by daily experience, that if a man be beautiful and personable, he is amiable: if valour be therewith conjoined, he is more esteemed: if Prudence be added, he is more accounted: if Virtue be annexed, he is highly reputed: if Religion adorn all these precedent parts, he is admired: if eminent Sanctity glorify them, he is adored. For although every excellency carrieth with it a sweet grace and motive to amability, yet such is the lustre and glory of Virtue and Honesty, that it alone causeth a more  friendship, love, and amity: a personable body is often linked with a pestilent soul: a 〈◊〉 Captain in the field, for most part is infected with ●● effeminate affection at home: those things we love as profitable, we love not absolutely, but rather in them ourselves, for whose use they serve, and therefore when commodity faileth, love quaileth. But those men we affect for their honesty, those we love indeed, and that affection is permanent: because it standeth upon a sound foundation, to wit, Virtue and Honesty, the principal objects of Reason, and reasonable affections. And so we prove daily ourselves, that we find many men, who neither have beauty of body, nor martial minds, nor ornaments of learning, nor riches, nor degrees, and yet only for that we know them sincere, upright, and honest, all honest men love them, and maugre malice of the wicked, though spitefully they backebite them, yet in their hearts they cannot but commend them. And truly there is almost nothing in this life, which absolutely ought to be loved, but that which either is, or relisheth of Honesty, for all other loves are either indifferent, mercenary, or vicious; if Virtue; or virtuous men for their Virtue ought to be loved and esteemed. O my GOD! the Life of Virtue, what Love is due to thee? who art the Quintessence and supreme Perfection, not of heroical virtue, but of innate and consummate goodness, dignity, and majesty: which are as far above the pitch of all excellent Virtues, heroical, supernatural, or theological, and infinitely more, than the chiefest Virtues surmount the badst vices. All men by nature are sinners, are peccable, the just offend often, and he that saith, he hath no sin, is a Liar. But thou art spotless, impeccable, and as far from all sin, as incomprehensible Wisdom from ignorance, and infinite Goodness from malice. The erroneous ignorant Philosophers, who stumbled sometimes upon true Virtues, though in most they miss the mark, could say, that if a virtuous Soul could be beheld with corporal eyes, it would ravish a man with love and admiration: but what if they had thoroughly penetrated the admirable secrets, and hidden perfections, which long experience and God's grace hath taught, would they have said? what if they had understood the mysteries of christianity, and entered into consideration of the worth, lustre, and glory of Faith, Hope, Charity, Grace, and other divine Virtues, which they never dreamt upon? certainly they could not have concluded otherwise, but that a virtuous and religious soul, was gilded with sparks of Deity, or enameled with the various radiant beams of Divinity, and therefore deserved to be loved, admired, honoured. But what then should both they and we say and affirm of thee, whose wit and will need no inclining Virtues, to move, or bend them to wisdom or goodness, who run amain of themselves? Virtues in us perfit those powers of our souls, which without them were unperfect; but in thee as there can be no imperfection to stain thine Essence, so all Virtues are needless in thee, in whom all faculties flow in abundance, by their own force & efficacy: and therefore thou art in regard of thine eminent Virtue, to be affectually loved, reverently honoured, and with all humility, submission and recognizance adored.   

The 9 Motive to Love, is Love itself.  
THe Diamond formeth and fashioneth the Diamond, and Love formeth and fashioneth Love: fire converteth fuel into fire, and fuel converted increaseth fire: Love causeth Love, and the beloved reloving, augmenteth the original Love. For albeit no man in this life can infallibly assure himself to be beloved by any, for Love lieth secretly closed up within the closet of the heart, which is inaccessible to any mortal eye: yet Love like hid perfumes, musk, and other odoriferous smells, casteth a scent though not seen: for words, eyes, deeds, gestures, are moral messengers, and daily discoverers of a loving mind. And without all question, those persons cannot but be accounted hard hearted, barbarous, fierce and savage, who belove not them of whom they are loved, in case the Love be pure, honest, and consorting with Christianity: for base worldly love grounded upon interest, & fleshy concupiscence, deserveth rather the name of Mercenary Lust, than Love: the reason is, because Love is so precious a Treasure, so rich a jewel, so divine a Gift, that I am persuaded; if men could behold the hearts 
●●a Plato in Lyside.  of them that truly love them, it would be as violent to withhold them from reloving again, as a Lioness from her whelps lying in her sight, a stone in the air from his centre, a bullet within a discharged Cannon. And no cross in this life can befall an honest Lover more mortal and deadly, than not to be beloved where he loveth: because in Love, life, thoughts, and affections, are transported into the person beloved, where, if they find not semblable affection to entertain them, they pine, they perish, they die. Who would not love an honest virtuous Lover, who honoureth, prizeth, and serveth whom he loveth? for honour, estimation and servitude, if they be cordial, cannot be accounted but rare treasures. He that loveth virtuously, esteemeth the beloved worthy of honour, because he reputeth him virtuous, and therefore in affection yieldeth him condign honour due to Virtue: he serveth him in regard of his great goodness, which in his conceit meriteth all servitude and obsequious compliments. Who would not love a virtuous Lover, who consecrateth himself, and all he hath unto the person beloved? for that one friend is thought able to do, which his friends can perform and effect: and therefore a man hath so many 
Arist. 3. moral. Nicom. c. 3.  bodies, souls, hearts, eyes, ears, tongues, hands, feet, as he hath friends; and so by this means is made potent and mighty. For a true friend will in all cases, places, and occasions deal in the affairs and occurrents of his friend: and for this cause Aristotle thought that friendship and amity were more necessary for a City, than laws and justice, and that the Legifers should have no less regard to Love, then to Laws: for if Citizens 
Arist. 8. moral. c. 1.  loved as friends, they should need no laws to punish them as enemies. Ah my loving God I demur too long in these speculative discourses, and withhold my soul too much from pathetical affections. Dost thou Love us? who doubteth? for if thou hadst never loved, we had never lived: and if thy Love continued not preserving 
Diligis omnia quae sunt: & nihil odisti corum quae fecisti. Sap. cap. 11.  our being, we should presently be resolved into dust and nothing. Well then thou dost prise us and honour us: else thou wouldst never have given the precious blood of thy Son to have redeemed us. This argueth estimation, but not honour: for honour supposeth subjection, inferiority, and I know not what kind of vassalage and servitude: it seemeth too presumptuous, if not blasphemous, to make thee either inferior or equal with men, whose Majesty the highest Seraphims admire, reverence, worship, and with trembling knees adore. Ah my God of most majestical and extaticall Love, shall I presume to enter into the abyss of thy eclipses, excesses, and charitable ecstasies? They be too deep for me, yea, and all the world beside to comprise: yet I know who said that thou went out of thyself, and suffered ecstasy thorough the vehemency 
Dyonis. Artop. cap. 4. de divin. nom.  of Love: his meaning was, that thou seemed to abase thy Majesty, with succouring and relieving our misery: and that exinanition and transformation of thy supreme Glory with Mount-Calvaries ignominy telleth us no less. Thy providence is such over the universal world in general, and every kind of creature in special, and every man in particular, giving them means to achieve their ends, concurring with them in all their actions, disposing of all so sweetly, that Nature & Grace consort so well together, and thy watchful provident eye with both, that the wisest may admire thee, and the simplest perceive thee, and none of us all ever doubt of thy vigilant solicitude, (I dare not call it servitude) yet if service be a succouring, sustaining, helping, ministering necessaries, and in every thing assisting us in best and basest offices, I may say thou lovingly serves all, who without thy service could not serve themselves, nor all the world except thyself. Great, no doubt, is thy love (O God without paragon in love) to men in this life: for here thou dost not only affect them, power out thy benefits upon them, distill thy graces into their hearts, and a thousand ways externally and internally work their salvation, but also that which surpasseth all, it seemeth thy will and power are at the command, or rather ready to obey the desires of thy faithful servants, for what else mean those protrite words of the Psalm, Voluntatem timentium se facit, He fulfilleth the will of 
Psal. 144.  them that fear him? and what other sense can be brought of that request thou made to thy servant Moses, dimit me, ut irascatur furor meus contra eos, & deleam 
Exod. 32.  eos, Suffer me, that my fury be revenged of them, and that I may destroy them: but that thy anger and revenge, thy displeasure and their intended destruction laid in Moses power to rule and guide according to his pleasure? O admirable omnipotency of love! which hath power even over the omnipotent: but if in this life, such is Love's puissance, what shall we say of thy friends and lovers in glory, where all graces and favours abound, where love like the Sun ever standeth in the Zenith, where presses swim with wine, and fields flow with honey? Certainly we cannot imagine or conceive otherwise, and well, but as thou who put on the person of the good old father, who said to his elder son, Fili, tu semper mecum es, & omnia mea tua sunt. O 
Luc. 15.  Son, thou art always with me, and what is mine, is thine; so that thou and all thy treasures are the final inheritance, possession and kingdom of thy children. But yet more emphatically our blessed Saviour declared the force & effects of thy love when he said, Beati illi servi, quos cum venerit dominus, invenerit vigilantes, amen 
Luc. 12.  dico vobis quod pracinget se, & faciat illos discumbere, & transiens ministrabit illis. Blessed be those servants, whom their Lord when he cometh shall find watching: Amen I say unto you, he will cause them sit down, and passing by, will serve them: this service and sitting, no doubt, signify the eternal glory whereupon thy Saints shall ever feed, the which cannot be prepared and ministered unto them by any others hands than thine which made them. And a little below to the same effect, speaking of his faithful and trusty servant, what wages in blessedness he shall receive, he addeth, Super omnia quae possidet consiliet eum, his Lord and Master will give him signiory and authority over all he possesseth, which is the consummation and final perfection of all true love, and affectual wishes of all true lovers, that the one have a king of charitable command, and a certain friendly dominion over the other.   

The 10. Motive to Love, which is Resemblance.  
THe ground of every man's love of himself, is the Identity of a man with himself, for the lover and beloved are all one and the same thing: because love being nothing else but a complacence or contentation in the goodness or perfection one hath with a desire of the accomplishment thereof, consequently as we ought both in grace and nature to prefer none before ourselves in the affection of virtue and perfection, so we should not love any above ourselves. From the Identity of ourselves and the love thereof, necessarily followeth a certain love to all them who are united any way unto us, and the stricter this union is, the stricter affection it engendereth, and for that all things united have a kind of resemblance, therefore Philosophers and Divines ground friendship upon similitude: here hence we love our kinsmen, parents, and children, for the union and resemblance in blood: students ground their friendship in the same kind of studies, soldiers in martial affairs, courtiers in civil courtly carriage, tradesmen in their arts, mariners in navigation: and finally all men of one profession love them of the same, and Omne animal 
Eccles. 13.  diligit sibi simile: and every beast affecteth the like, liveth with the like, consorteth with the like. And the reason is, because a man in this life by nature and grace, by the instinct of his innate judgement and reasonable affection, prescribeth unto himself an end in this world, void of troubles and molestation, quiet, peaceable, full of rest and contentation: whereat all his labours, thoughts, and meditations level: moreover, he being a sociable creature had need of men to help him in council, comfort him in griefs, secure him in sundry disasters of fortune, which daily and casually occur, and finally converse peaceably and agreeably with him: all which, none can perform better, not so well as they whose natures and conditions are like unto ours: for what dissension can be among those men, whose wills are one and the same? what sorrows can greatly molest us, where friends carry their portions with us, and thereby alleviate a great part of their weight? what counsel can prevail against many friends, who are wise, discreet, faithful, virtuous? what conversation can be more grateful, then that, where neither injuries are offered, nor suspected? in few, as virtue is the surest chain wherewith men can be bound together, so resemblance in virtue the surest foundation of friendship, and a virtuous company the happiest society. O my God of most pure and perfect love, thou spoke the word and begot thine eternal word, thou breathed out thy love and produced the holy ghost, the life and soul of all true love, as well create as increate: thy love in Trinity is one and the self-same identified in all the three persons, and the self-same thing with their substance: and therefore most entire, inexplicable, and perfect is your love, the which may not be termed friendship, but rather charitable amity of an indivisible unity. Thy creatures are all beloved of thee, because thou like a father in them hast imprinted and stamped a resemblance of thy Majesty: and because there is none so base and unperfit but that all the goodness it hath, resideth in thee, much more perfectly than itself: therefore no child so representeth his father, as every creature thy Majesty, according to that perfection it enjoyeth, and thy boundless essence comprehendeth. What shall I here say of the image of thy essence and three persons in Trinity engraven in the centre of every reasonable soul? this were a matter too prolix to discourse upon: but well I may conclude, that if thou love all thy creatures for a dark cognisance they carry upon their backs of thy glorious greatness, no doubt but thou wilt love & favour man, who beareth in the face of his soul thy perfect portrait and image in a far higher degree? much more might be added of the blood of Christ, wherewith all souls are sprinkled, who have put him on in their baptism. Long treatises might be penned of the supernatural colours, and celestial graces of faith, hope, charity, and other infused virtues, wherewith thy friends are refined, enriched, adorned, beautified, and thy image perfected, but of this more diffusedly in my third book of Threans. Finally, thy future resemblance which all thy faithful servants shall possess in glory, of whom is verified that prophesy of S. john, Scimus quoniam cum apparuerit, 
1. joh. 3.  similes ei erimus, quoniam videbimus eum sicuti est. Because we know when he appeareth, we shall be like unto him, for that we shall see him as he is. This glorious retreat of thy blessed face would afford ample matter to praise thy goodness, extol man's greatness in felicity, declare the beauty of thy sacred beams wherewith our souls shall be gloriously inamelled, excite us to love thee here more fervently, to resemble thee there more lively: but this large subject would pass the straight compass of my prefixed brevity: therefore O blessed God, renew us within so perfectly here, that we may one day try this truth, with thee there.   

The 11. Motive to Love, which is agreeableness with Nature.  
IF a man should inquire why the Vine so loveth by nature the Elm, that it wrappeth more kindly about it, and bringeth forth more plenty and better grapes, then planted at the root of any other tree: questionless no other reason could be given then a certain secret sympathy of Nature, a proportionate agreeableness, and natural conveniency. What pain taketh the Hen to sit so long upon her eggs? what labour endure little Birds to build their nests, to feed their younglings, to teach them by daily examples to avoid dangers, to procure food, to conserve, protect and defend themselves? all these, and thousands such like, proceed from a certain Love, grounded upon the agreeableness and concordance with Nature. So that small pleasures the poor Birds find to leave their own provision sought with such labour, to cram their little ones; and no great delight the Hen can reap by so daintily and carefully covering her eggs, but that the want of pleasure is supplied by the conformity of Nature, which therein is apertly showed.  
When we see beasts fight, we commonly wish in our hearts the victory should happen rather to the one party then the other: If a reason of this desire were demanded, it were impossible diverse times to be rendered, except we resolved it into a secret sympathy of nature: likewise meeting with a company of strangers which we never see men or women, presently one shall perceive a certain more affectual fancy inclined to love one than an other, although diverse times both proportion, comeliness, or I know not what other perfection, be more spectable in the rejected, then in the accepted. The same we might say of diverse meats drinks, airs, smells, lodgings, apparel, etc. which agree and are conformable to some men's nature, but marvelous hurtful and offensive to others, the which therefore are loved of those, and abhorred of these.  
It is hard for me, if not impossible (O God the centre of my soul) to explicate the admirable proportion, conveniency, and agreeableness betwixt thy mercies and our miseries, thy riches and our poverty, thine abilities to perfect us, and our indignities to be perfected, thy patience and longanimity to support injuries, and our perverseness to commit offences. Tell me O thou heart of man, why thou livest in this life, for most part disgusted, distasted, unquiet, ever loving, never perfectly liking, thirsting ever for a happy quiet rest, and never attaining any quietness to thy full contentment or rest? Ah my God one who knew this misery, and had felt the finger of thy mercy, told the cause, for being as unable to settle himself, as he had perceived the same in others, at last was stirred up to seek to thee, the centre, life, and satiety of the soul.  
Tuenim excitas ut laudare te delectet. Quia fecisti nos 
Aug. lib. 1. confess. cap. 1.  ad te, & inquietum est cor nostrum donec requiescat in te. Thou excites us (O God) with delight to praise thee: Because thou hast made us for thee, and our heart is unquiet until it rest in thee. So that as the fire flieth to his Sphere, the stone to his Centre, the river to the Sea, as to their end and rest, and are violently detained in all other places; even so the hearts of men without thee their last end and eternal quietness, are ever ranging, warbling, and never out of motion: not unlike the needle touched with the Loadstone, which ever standeth quivering, & trembling, until it enjoy the full and direct aspect of his Northern Pole: O my God of infinite wisdom! who canst speak as well with works as words; let it be lawful for me symbolically to interpret the triangular figure of man's heart, & say, that as the face of the body may be termed the portrait of affections and passions; so the heart may be called, the face and figure, or resemblance of the soul, and consequently of thee, (whose image lies drawn in the plane thereof, limmed with thine own pencil and immortal colours) the heart then of man triangularly respecteth the blessed Trinity, every corner a Person, and the  substance your common Essence. This heart then resembling thee, touched with desire of thee, cannot be quiet, but united and conjoined with affectual love and amity with thee. But come wit of man, and show thy sympathy in desire of thy God, that by thee we may discover the agreeableness he hath with all reasonable Natures. What is thine inclination, and what thing with main and might dost thou wish and essentially crave? Truth: what truth? All: so that thy thirst can never be served, except all truth thou see revealed: And where is this Truth to be found? pass over the vast universe, from the convex superficies of the highest Heaven to the centre of hell, and thou shalt not get such a request satisfied: pass and pierce thorough all these truths, and yet the immensive capacity of thy desire will not completely be filled. For until the Sea of all Truth, & the grand origen of all verities flow into thee, these little drops will rather cause a greater, then quench thy former thirst. Thy God then who is prima Veritas in essendo & dicendo, the first Verity in being and speaking, and infinite in both, of all other objects, doth consort with this thy boundless comprehension best; and in fine must be thy full satiety, or else never look to be satisfied. Now that the Wit knoweth where his Rest resteth: Come thou Will of man, and tell us what thou aymest at: where dwelleth the purport of thy wishes, where lieth the project of thy desires? In goodness and perfection; for as the eye beholdeth light, and all colours limmed with light; so thou affects all goodness, and all things gilded with goodness: And where is all this goodness to be gotten? Ah! we try too palpably, that all things covered with the cope of Heaven, are as far from fully contenting our wills, as a bit of meat to a man almost half dead of hunger. Who ever yet in this life accounted himself persitly happy, and thoroughly satisfied in mind, but those which sincerely and affectually loved thee? Alas, who is he that seethe not how our affections go rolling and ranging from one base creature to another? seeking contentment, ever hoping, and never obtaining, now in walking, now in conversing, now in beholding, after in eating, studying, and a thousand such like inveigling baits, which do nothing else, but with a clawing and cloying variety, rid us from a sensual satiety: for when one sense hath drunk up all his pleasure, and either feeleth not his thirst quenched, or with too much his faculty or corporal instruments endamaged, presently the soul seeketh an other bait to avoid the former molestation, with a new recreation: and so wandereth and beggeth of every poor creature a scrap of comfort. All this (my sweet God the only object of complete contentation) argueth that what is loved without thee, although it agreeth in part with us, yet it jumpeth not right, it consorteth not in form and manner as our souls and wills requires. Thou only who folds in thyself all kind of goodness art the sole convenient and agreeable object of our wits, wills, loves and desires.   

The 12. Motive to Love is Necessity.  
Necessity was the first inventor of Arts: Pleasure added diverse: Vanity found out the rest. All corporal creatures issued from the hands of God with a serviceable harmonical convenience, consorting with the nature of man: many for necessity, some for delight, others for ornaments. Among the parts of a man's body some are necessary, as the heart, brain and liver: some exceeding profitable yet not absolutely requisite, as two hands, two eyes, two ears, ten fingers, ten toes: some are for ornaments, as the hair of a woman's head, and 
1. Cor. 11. 15.  the beard of a man, an apt figure, and personablenes of body, pleasant colours, and diverse such like natural compliments. Wherefore if pleasant arts, delightful creatures, complemental ornaments be greatly loved and liked: questionless necessary trades, creatures, and parts ought much more to be esteemed and affected, because that every one first loveth himself, and then all those means, which in some sort concern the being or conservation of himself, among which those which are most necessary are necessarily beloved.  
If I consider my body (O good God the only moulder of all creatures) how it dependeth upon thee, in upholding and propping up continually the weak pillars thereof least continually they should fall, I well know their feebleness to be such, and so extreme, that no hand but thine Almighty is able to sustain them. What way can I walk, what sense can I use, what work can I work, what word can I speak, what thought can I think, what wish can I will, if thou guide not my feet, concur not with my sense, work not with my hands, direct not my tongue, manage not my wit, move not my will? without thy continual, effectual, and principal influence neither my heart can breath, my stomach digest, my pulses move, my liver make concoction, or any part of my body suck the vital nourishment which restoreth lost forces, and keepeth my life in continuance. And therefore I may well say that thou art as necessary to preserve my being, as in first imparting of it, and as requisite to any thing I can do, as my very soul, substance and faculties, which are principles of doing. And therefore with what love should I incessantly affect thee, who have such dependence upon thee? There be some fishes which presently die if once they be taken out of the water, & no doubt but much more speedily should both my body and soul perish, and be brought to nothing, thing, if they were not environed on every side, above, below, within and without, with the omnipotent virtue of thine immensive Majesty.   

The 13. Motive to Love, which is the pardoning of Injuries.  
ALthough every virtue rendereth a man amiable, yet some there be so immediately grounded upon the base of love, as liberality and magnificency upon goodness and amity, that they ravish & wholly lead men's affections towards them: for that by them love & bounty power out themselves by communication of what they have, to others. Contrariwise some other virtues so fortify and establish a man in goodness, that they arm him invincibly, and make him most potent, either by mildness, not to perceive any Injuries, or so corroborate him with patience, that he cannot or will not revenge them. When Mary had murmured against Moses, and for the foulness of her fault, God who was most zealous of his servants estimation, had stricken her with a loathsome lepry, Moses (as the scripture reporteth) 
Num. 12.  being the mildest man upon earth, could not suffer this just punishment to be inflicted upon her, but presently demanded of God that he would cure her. Whereas it seemeth that he neither perceived the Injury, nor could endure the Revenge. And in very deed, it cannot but proceed from a noble magnanimous mind, to contemn all base injuries offered, and to disdain to repay condignly their deserts: for whomsoever I injure, I impair either his estimation, or his riches, or his body, or his soul: he than that can tolerate such harms, showeth himself superior to all that fortune or nature can afford. Alexander the great went to visit Dio●enes the cynical Philosopher, who would not vouchsafe to visit him, and demanded of him, if he had need of any thing; Yes marry, quoth Diogenes, (who sat in his philosophical barrel) that thou stand from before me, and hinder not the Sun from coming to me. Alexander was exceedingly delighted with this answer, and so wondered at the majesty of this Philosopher's mind, that after his departure, perceiving his Nobles and Minions to mock and jest at such a satirical and exotic answer unto their Emperor. Well, well, quoth Alexander, you may say what you will, but I assure you, if I were not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes. For he desired in his heart to surmount all men, and esteem nothing, and here he found Diogenes make none account of him, whom he deemed all the world feared and trembled to hear of. But yet Alexander proved not Diogenes one step further, for if he had reviled him, if he had whipped him, & diverse other ways injuried him, than he might have said in deed he was arrived at the haven of happiness, if he had tolerated them with patience, and neither by deed, word, nor thought meditated or intended revenge, for it is not so hard for a man to contemn that he hath not, as to despise all he hath and patiently to suffer himself to be despoiled of all he hath, and beside in body to be afslicted as job, or to be blinded as Toby, or cast in prison as joseph. If Alexander so prized Diogenes vain contempt proceeding from a popular bravado rooted in a private pride, how would he have esteemed Saint Peter and the rest of the Apostles, who left all, and followed Christ's innocency, tolerating with invincible patience a sea of afflictions, crosses, and injuries! But thou O blessed Saviour, who eclipsed thy Majesty with our mortal ignominies, and forsook the use of no Macedonian Empire, but of the universal world, to whom the use as well as the dominion belonged, for in the hem of thy garment we find written 
Apoc. 19  Rex Regum, and Dominus Dominantium, the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, that is, one of the basest graces and privileges granted to thine humanity, (wherewith thy Divinity as with a scarlet robe was veiled) was the propriety and dominion over the world: yet for all this ample inheritance over jew and Gentile, thou hadst not so much house to cover thy head as Foxes which hold their holes, and Birds that in feesimple keep their nests. What injuries O sweet jesus have sinful souls exhaled, breathed, nay darted out against thy sacred humanity, frustrating it, for as much as in them laid, of all those noble effects, which thou deserved for us by thy most bitter death and passion? and yet thou art so armed with humble mildness and compassion of heart, that thou by internal favours and external benefits cherishes them, as though thou wert nothing offended with them, but rather with opportune kindness, seems to contend with their importune malice, with invincible patience expecting their repentance. What wrongs do we offer every moment thy sovereign Divinity, by transgressing thy commandments, and thereby injurying all the attributes of thy Divine Majesty? And yet no sooner the prodigal child sayeth peccavi, O Father, I have offended, but thou falls upon him with kisses, and customary favours, forgetting his former follies: no sooner the sinful Magdalen batheth thy feet with mournful tears, but thou baths her breast with pardoning joys. Ah my God of all goodness and mercy! what shall I prefer in thee, the benefits I have received from thy hands, or the not present revenging of injuries thou hast received from my heart? for in them thou communicated thy goodness conformably unto thy will, here thou sustained dishonour against thy will, that tended to glorify thee, and perfect us, this impugneth thee, and destroyeth us: injuries were violent, benefits connatural; injuries issued from corruption, and aimed at destruction, benefits proceeded from mercy, and aimed at the relief of misery, injuries deserved infamy, and benefits recognition & glory, wherein then didst thou show more love & bounty, in conferring benefits, or pardoning injuries? Questionless in pardoning injuries for temporal favours, and spiritual graces (all except Christ's incarnation, his merits and death) argue but a limited greatness not infinite, because a gift amongst men is thought to proceed from a proportionable love unto the gift, as for example, if a king give a 1000 pound we value his love to the person who receiveth such a benefit in the degree of the quantity of the gift, and the more he giveth, we judge the better he loveth, and the more the greatness & wealth of the Prince is, the greater gift will ever seem lesser. But in injuries contrariwise the greatness of the person offended mightily augmenteth the excess of the offence, and therefore in sin, the person of God being of infinite Majesty, the injury and offence almost is infinitely aggravated: for if a base peasant beat a Gentleman, the injury is greater than if he beat his fellow peasant, if he beat a Knight, the offence increased, if a Baron, more excessive, if an Earl, it ascended, if a Duke, more enormous, if the King's son, more treacherous, if the King himself, more horrible, if the Emperor, more execrable, so that the like offence done to different persons in dignity, according to their higher degree and pre-eminence, is judged more grievous and injurious. The which if we extend to God, it wanteth all proportion and measure: For as his Majesty surpasseth all in greatness and dignity, so the injuries offered him are matchless, and incomparable with any kind of iniquity.   

The 14. Motive to Love, which is Hatred.  
IT is admirable, how gealing frosts cause springs and wells, which in Summer be exceeding cold, in the depth of Winter, to smoke with heat: for the vehemency of the frost and coldness so glueth and environeth the earth, that the hot vapours which are engendered within it, partly retiring from cold repercussions, partly stopped from passages (the pores of the ground being shut) unite themselves again with the water, and so cause warmness. We see by experience, that raging Mastiffs who if they were loosed one at another, they would fight till death, whereas in presence of the Bull or Bear they join in friendship, and both, either by sensual consent, or natural instinct, unite themselves in one to assault their common adversary.  
The like we find among politic Potentates and Princes, who easily join in league and amity with them, who are in dissension or wars with their professed enemies. And holy writ recounteth a case not much different from this, of Herod and Pilate, who bore no great good will to our Saviour, and therefore, of foes they fell into friendship. Wherefore in all uproars and commotions, riots and rebellions, all Nations can testify, that hatred of subjects against superiors uniteth them in one, and causeth revolt against the State: as we read of David, to whom when he fled from the face of Saul, resorted all they who were amuro animo, crossed, or afflicted, and he was their 
1. Reg. 22.  Captain. The reason of this may easily be rendered, for first resemblance as I said above causeth love, now all they which hate our enemies resemble us in that passion, and consequently are apt objects to be beloved. Again, profit and commodity cause love, in this case the union of haters against their common enemy is a re-inforcement of their strength, and an enabling of them more easily to subdue their adversaries. Finally, as every man judgeth his own cause good, and his enemies bad, so he is easily induced to think the case alike of all them who are at like debate with his adversary, and therefore think as innocents they ought to be descended and protected. How shall thou and I join ●n hatred O God of concord? I may say against sin we may link ourselves in union, but alas sin is a certain nothing, and I love it too well, and therefore hardly can herein find occasion to love thee. Yet in truth if a man be resolute against sin, there is no mortal enemy in the world who should more detest and abhor his enemy, than he should sin: for nothing God ever hated or can hate but sin, the causes, and effects thereof. For nothing can dishonour God but sin, nor nothing really damnify man but sin. The The Devil mortally hateth (O most merciful, bountiful, and amiable God) thy sacred Majesty, and also all mankind: but why hateth he thee? because thou hates his arrogant pride, envy, and malice, and therefore with condign punishments torments him. But what can his hateful poisonful heart exhale out against thee, either to afflict thee with pain, molest thee with sorrow, abate thy blessedness, or diminish any way thy glory? He can as much prevail against thy might, or as much impair thy greatness, as an Emmets blast the mountains of Hircan or Caucasus: and for that in effect he can do nothing, yet in the excessive malice of his affect, he will do all he can: wherefore, knowing that man is bound both by nature, grace, gratitude, vassaladge, and many other titles to love, honour, and bless thee, and that by obediently 
Gen. 3. 1. 1. Paral. 21. 1. job. 1. 2. Zach. 3. 1. Math. 4. 3 9 Luc. 8. 12. Act. 5. 3. 2. Cor. 4. 4. Ephes. 6. 11. 1. Thess 2 18. 1. Pet. 5. 8. Apoc. 2. 10.  serving thee with humility and charity, he shall attain unto that happy felicity, whereof he and his complices for their demerits are for ever deprived, therefore, as well to rob thee of thy due honour and service, as also to hinder him from the achievement of his eternal happiness, with all main and might, like a roaring Lion raging with ire, and famished with hunger of man's perdition, he rangeth abroad seeking whom he may devour, how he can possibly impeach thy glory, or man's salvation, and therefore from the beginning of the world until this day, and to the world's end, will ever continue the enmity betwixt the seed of the woman, and the seducing serpent.  
Ah my God I know full well, that all the Devils in hell combined in one, howsoever they spit their spite, nay belch out their infernal gall against thee, yet all their forces and substances, natures and what else they have, if thou wouldst but say the word, in a moment would be consumed to nothing. But thine intent is, that we should fight with him, who with so many advantages impugneth us, (yet by the assistance of thy grace) with honour and reputation we should resist, expunge, and triumph victoriously over him; for that victory is more glorious, and that glory more illustrious where adversaries are strongest, and our forces 
2. Cor. 12. 7.  feeblest, Nam virtus in infirmitate perficitur: and jobs virtue and thy grace were much more conspicuous in his botches and biles, in his dunghill and ashes, in the 
job. 1.  slouds of his losses, and inundation of his crosses, than when thou blessedst him with seven thousand Sheep, three thousand Camels, a multitude of Oxen and Asses, when thou bestowedst upon him an ample family, and a happy issue of Sons and Daughters; when thou guarded, protected, and with thy fatherly providence compassed himself, family, lands and live on every side. But unless I unite my forces with thy grace, or rather thou with thy favourable assistance join with me, alas I am as unable to encounter such a potent adversary, as an Emet a Lion, a pygmy a Giant, who reputeth iron as straws, and brass like rotten wood, who swalloweth slouds, and expecteth that the whole River of jordan should run into his mouth. Yet armed 
job. 41. 18. & 40. 18. Vide Mar●. 1. 26. 5. 2. & 9 26. Luc. 8. 29. the forces of the Devil his craft. 1. Reg. 13. 19 2. Esd. 4. 11.  with thy protection, I fear not to prostrate him as David that mighty tower of flesh, the uncircumcised Philistian, who boasted against the God of Israel. For in Deo meo transgr●diar murum, I will pierce even the stony walls by the power and force of my God: Si exurgant adverfum me castra non timebit cor meum: If whole Camps assault me, my heart will not fear, for I know O omnipotent God, that love thee as I should, thine almighty hand will uphold me in all dangers, and strengthen me in all assaults. Sweet God, enable me therefore with thy love, for the surest Castle 
Galat. 5. 6. 1. Pet. 5. 8.  against the Devil is a faith working with charity, and the Devils bullets of battery against this fort are suggestions 
2. Cor. 12. 7.  working with concupiscence or self-love and sensuality.   

The 15. and 16. Motives to Love, which are delivery from evil, and toleration of wrongs for us.  
Goodness or true love principally by four means are discovered: first, in bountifully giving gifts and bestowing benefits, as Alexander the great, who herein so excelled, that in all occasions he won eternal fame, and incomparable love of all that dealt with him, for his magnificent deportment in pouring forth his treasures: and no doubt but that common verse more true than old, was penned for this and many more such like experiences, to wit:  

Si quis in hoc mundo, vult cunctis gratus haberi:  
Det, capiat, quaerat● plurima, pauca, nihil.   

He that to all, will here, be grateful thought:  
Must give, accept, demand! much, little, nought.   
Secondly in not punishing or revenging injuries when they be offered: wherefore Saul understanding, that David whom he so mightily persecuted, got him at such advantage, as that if it had pleased him to have revenged so many wrongs offered him by Saul, he might with as much facility have bereft him in the cave of his life, as Saul had desire to despoil him of his life, I say, after 
1 Reg. 24▪ & cap. 26.  that Saul understood the revengeless heart of David, levavit vocem suam & slevit: he wept for joy, and apertly confessed his virtue, love & kindness, and withal, acknowledged his own injustice and, iniquity.  
Thirdly, in riddance and delivery from evil: when judith entered into Bethulia with Holophernes head, and 
judith 1●.  by that means had redeemed her Country from the extreme danger of the Assyrian Host, which of that people had not occasion sufficiently offered, to love, admire, 
Ester 7. &. 8.  and adore her? After that Ester had procured the death of Hamman, and the reclaim of that bloody Edict Assuerus at Hammans suggestion had sent abroad to be executed, thorough all the kingdoms of the Medes and Persians: what jew had not there a most forcible motive to love, and reverence that godly Queen, which so wisely, so courageously, so effectually had saved their lives, and restored them to former liberty?  
The same we may say of Moses, who rid the Israelites from the thraldom of Egypt: and of josua and Samson, who diverse times defended their people from the hostile fury and invasion of their enemies: and for this cause, such noble Generals among the Romans were entitled Patres Patriae, Fathers of the Country, because they as Fathers had defended it, and therefore deserved to be reputed and loved as Fathers.  
Fourthly, in tolerating wrongs, crosses, disasters, afflictions for us. This Verity we find recorded in holy Writ: Maiorem charitatem nemo habet, quam ut animam ponat quis pro amicis suis. No man can show more love, then by pouring out his life for his friend; if then any suffer wrongs for our cause, the nearer they approach to death, the nearer they border upon the most perfit remonstrance of Love; and consequently, are more forcible to cause or increase kindness and affection. When Saint Paul persecuted the Christians in the primitive Church, Christ for whose cause they endured such persecutions, accounted their ignominies, his injuries, and therefore said, Saul, Saul, cur me persequeris? Saul, Saul, why dost thou persecute me? as though his servants harms were his hurts. Who dishonoureth an Ambassador, but his King reputeth the injury offered unto his Person? who revileth a servant sent from his Lord, but his Master will think therein his honour stained? wherefore as Christ's Apostles and Disciples, Ambassadors or Servants wrongs redound to their disgrace that sent them, and in very deed they ought so to esteem them, as done to themselves, because they plead and negotiate the Senders causes and affairs, and in some sort represent their persons; even so, whosoever handleth or dealeth in our behalf, and thereby incurreth any disgrace in honour, wealth, or body for us, aught to be reputed our friend, in furthering our causes and negotiations, and have repaired all the damages he suffered in our defence. Whosoever then suffereth for our cause, we account as innocent, and to suffer wrongfully, therefore we condole with him, and no doubt but love him: Secondly, such an one is violently bereft of some good for our good, which cannot but argue an extraordinary good will towards us, and consequently an apt motive to move us to love. Thirdly if that Position of Aristotle be true, that we love them 
Arist. 2. Rhe● cap. 4.  which tell and confess sincerely their faults and offences: for as Thomas Aquinas noteth, such men shut the door to all fiction and dissimulation, and therefore are thought upright, and so deserve to be loved: Certainly they that suffer any damage or danger of damage for us, exclude all fiction or dissimulation, and really prove they love us affectually, and not superficially, and therefore deserve to be beloved reciprocally.  
O my sweet Saviour and impassable God who by Divine nature art incapable of damage, grief, sorrow or disgrace, of whom well we may say, Non accedet ad te malum, nec slagellum appropinquabit Tabernaculo tuo. 
Psal. 90.  Evil shall never come near thee, nor any scourge approach to thy Tabernacle, Yet to rid me and all mankind from evil, thou abased thyself, almost to the abyss of nothing, factus vermis & non homo, opprobrium hominum & abiectio plebis; A worm and not a man, the scorn of men, and the scum of the people. Whether shall I say was▪ greater, and deserved more love, the evil thou hast endured for me, or the evil from which thou hast delivered me? My pain from whence thou hast rid me, should have been infinite in durance, and thy pain sustained for me, was infinite in dignity: my soul and body were most cruelly in hell to have been tormented: and thy body and soul upon the cross were rend asunder: the ugly fiends were to imbrue their invisible clouches in my execrable soul, and the reprobate jews bathed their hands in thy blessed blood: I was to have dwelled in utter darkness for my manifold offences; and the light of thine eyes were obscured, to satisfy for mine innumerable transgressions. If I consider the pain thou sustained in regard of merit, worth and valuation, as it far exceeded the demerit of our sins; so consequently, all those evils, damages and torments which we incurred by sins; and therefore were well compared by Saint Chrysostome to a spark of fire cast into the immensive Ocean Sea: for as Saint Paul witnesseth, Vbi abundavit 
Chrysost in hom. ad Pop.  delictum, superabundavit & gratia; Where sin abounded, grace over-abounded. But otherwise if we 
Rom. 5.  weigh the substance of thy pains, we cannot compare them with those of the damned, because those torments and thy loving dolours were in a far different kind, and therefore admit not well comparison: for those griefs are enforced, thine voluntary; those with remorse of acted offences, thine with conscience and perfect cognition of innocency; those are tortures for evils, thine are riddance from evils. And truly they who would ascribe unto thee the infernal dolours upon the cross or in the garden, in mine opinion, rather offend in ignorance, as not perfectly understanding the deformed nature of those unexplicable torments, then upon malice attributing them unto thee. For neither didst thou sorrow for pains, as afflictions deservedly inflicted for thy crimes, neither didst thou nor couldst thou hate and abhor God the inflictor of such horrible torments, neither didst thou nor couldst thou despair of thy Father's favours, who infinitely, uncessantly, eternally, undoubtedly loved and honoured thee, and of whose love thou wast as sure as of thine own eternal life. Therefore at last I hope such unpure minds 
The Puritans error.  will amend their impure errors, and at last reclaim their ignorant blasphemy. Notwithstanding this I will confess, and cannot deny, but that thy pains as well in the Garden, as upon the Cross, were as bitter in vehemency and intention, perhaps, as those of the damned, because thy love no doubt was more intensive towards Mankind, than their love to themselves, therefore thy hatred was more vehement of our trespasses, than their abomination of torments; for love of the good we wish, and hatred of the evil opposite thereunto weigh ever the same, and are balanced alike; wherefore grief necessarily ensuing compassion full hatred, counterpoyseth the vehement intention of Love. And as thy Love of man never had Paragon in vehemency; so thy Dolours never had like in intention: and therefore truly the Prophet said in thy Person, Non est dolour sicut dolor meus: No dolours are comparable with mine. By this I infer, O sweet jesus! that thou having delivered me from such horrible pain, and for this Redemption suffered such excessive pain, I should love thee in condign gratitude with correspondent affection to both pains, but this Sphere is too large for my feeble activity to reach: Thou therefore enlarge my heart, who aymedst specially in them both, at a proportionate grateful Love and affectual recognition of men.   

The 17. Motive to Love, which consisteth specially in the manner of giving gifts, and bestowing favours.  
IT is a common saying among spiritual men, that God respecteth not so much the quantity, as the quality of our actions and good works: the which protrite Axiom seemeth grounded upon diverse Scriptures. Specially the fact of that poor Woman, which cast her two mites in Gazaphilacium, which gave more, her need considered, than all they who bestowed large portions of their superfluous riches: because ordinarily, when we find great difficulty to do well, and yet break thorough it, that argueth a more perfect affection, and entire good will towards the party for whose sake we undergo it. Again we have registered by the Apostle, that hilarem datorem diligit Deus: Our Lord loveth a pleasant giver: that is, when a man imparteth his goods for 
2. Cor. 9  God's honour and glory, God liketh him that effecteth it with alacrity and pleasantness: for some men you have, who bestow benefits upon their friends, in such sort, as they seem to give so much of their blood, for they make a show of a certain loathing giving, which diminisheth in great part the gift. Therefore in the receyving of a benefit, these circumstances may be considered, which follow every one of them, dignifying of it, and consequently casting a spark of bounty from the Giver into the heart of the Receyver, to move him to Love.   

The first Circumstance. The greatness of the Giver.  
THe dignity or pre-eminence of any Principle ennobleth and enhanceth the Effect; so noble Parents produce noble Children; a mean work proceeding from an excellent Workman, winneth by relation to the Author, I know not what more credit and reputation, then if it had proceeded from an Artificer of lesser account. In like manner a gift coming from a great Person, carrieth ever a scent of a certain greatness, and relisheth ever either of Nobility, Excellency, Superiority or all. Charles the fift in his long troublesome wars in Germany, being almost ever pressed with want of money, and unable to remunerate the Services of diverse Dutch Captains and Nobles whom he had entertained, after any great exploit performed by them, to acquit their service in some sort (which Alexander would have repaid with Cities, or States) he was accustomed in the open field in midst of his Nobles, to call such a Captain or Colonel before him, and there in the presence of the whole Camp, take a gold chain from about his own neck, and put it about the neck of the other, & so embrace him, & thank him, and with this honour, so solemnly circumstanced, by such a Person, as the Emperor, with such acknowledgement of his desert and valour, with the view of all the Army, many of them esteemed this favour greater, then if in very deed he had given them a City: for they valued that chain more, than many bushels of the like gold, but not of like glory: for the only emperors Person, and the taking of it from his Neck, hanged at it such a precious jewel, as in warlike conceits, a million of gold would not countervail: and it was esteemed a sufficient testimony of honour, for a Martial man to vaunt of, all the days of his life. There be also diverse reasons, why the dignity of the Giver, enhanceth not a little the value of the gift. First, all gifts are signs of love and affection, and therefore as the love of a great parsonage caeteris paribus, is much more to be prized then of a meaner, so the gifts issuing from such affections ought more to be accounted. Secondly, if the Giver be wise and discreet, it argueth he esteemeth us to deserve such a benefit, the which reputation deserveth no small estimation. 3. If the Giver be virtuous, it is to be thought, he specially regardeth virtue in bestowing his favours; therefore the gift showing a testimony and warrant of his opinion, giveth forth a blazon of the receyvers honesty, which winneth credit and fame.   

2. Circumstance. Strangeness in the Giver.  
Gifts given by friends, and such as we are well acquainted withal, in regard they be usual, be therefore by some less esteemed, for friendship and familiarity enforce for most part, a mutual communication among friends of fortunes favours. But when the Giver is a mere stranger, and yet upon kindness with alacrity bestoweth benefits upon us, it cannot but proceed, either from a most bountiful nature, kind and loving, or else from a singular conceit they have of us, or both, which both deserve love and reciprocal gratitude again. This kindness Abraham's servant and surveyor of his lands, desired to try, in the Maid he was to bring home for his Master's Son Isaac, out of the land 
Gen. 24.  of Mesopotamia, that if she unknowing him, after he had demanded her to drink, she had said she would not only show him that favour, but also give his Camels to drink likewise, that such a bountiful Woman was a fit wife for his purpose; and as he prayed and wished, Rebecca performed.  
The like courtesy showed Moses in defending the 
Exod. 2.  Daughters of the Priest of Madian, from the rustical proceed of the Shepherds, who hindered them from watering their Sheep: and therefore was kindly & deservedly invited by their father to sojourn with him in the time of his flight from the face & fury of Pharaoh: wherefore it is held for great civility, and as a sign of a noble nature to entertain strangers kindly; and contrariwise for extreme barbarousness to abuse or use them currishly. And for this cause God commanded the jews not to molest strangers, Advenam 
Exod. 22.  non contristabis.   

3. Circumstance. If the giver be our special friend.  
GIfts may proceed from well-willers, and friends: these two differ much: for we may have many well-willers, but very few special friends: well-willers be general friends as all them of our kindred, common good loving neighbours, with whom we live in daily conversation, and pass our time, repaying one good turn with another. Special friends be such as we repute so dear unto us as our own lives, whose council 
Aristot. 9 Moral. N●coma. cap. 10. vult 〈◊〉 inter paucos, & frequenter 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 circa qu● 〈◊〉 sunt, ex eius sententia, v●x cum 〈◊〉 perfectam ●micitiam inire possunt.  we use, whose secrets we know, whose familiarity, trust, honesty, good will we prefer before all others: and such be very few, two, or three at the most, for more entire friendship cannot comport, because betwixt such friends must pass such intercourse of affairs, such communication, such comforts, compassions, congratulations, advices, reprehensions, persuasions, dissuasions, managings of negotiations, and in fine, such mutual care and solicitude betwixt the one and the other, as if a man distract himself with many, he cannot possibly be complete friend to any. Wherefore Plutarch wittily and prudently commended that sentence of Pythagoras, Ne multis manum inijcias, Give not thy hand to many: 
Plutarch. lib. de multitudine amicorum.  his meaning was, that he should not betake himself to a multitude of friends. The gifts then of such familiar entire friends, ought much more to be esteemed, then if they came but from ordinary weil-willers, as for example, no doubt but David prized more those garments his beloved friend jonathas gave him off his own 
1. Reg. 18.  back, with other furniture of war, above all the other apparel that ever he wore in his life. The reason why this circumstance qualifieth the gift, I take to be the cordial amity and friendship from which it proceedeth, and ever representeth to the eye of the receiver.   

4. Circumstance. If the gift be exceeding dear unto the giver.  
NO doubt but that solemn sacrifice which God commanded Abraham to offer up unto him, which touched him so near, and pierced his heart so to the quick of his only son Isaac, miraculously conceived the hope of posterity, & that seed whencefrom his expected Messias was to descend, was so much more acceptable unto God, how much more it was dear unto Abraham. And it seems that God, to show how dear a gift he willed him to offer, particularized the dignifying 
Gen. 22.  circumstances thereof, by saying: Tolle filium tuum, Take thy son, if he had commanded him to offer any of his servants, or of his kindred, it had not been so much, but to deprive him of his son, was no small corrosive to a kind, loving, fatherly heart. unigenitum: If Abraham had had more sons, the precept had not been so severe, to have lost one: but being his only heir, that aggravateth exceedingly the fact: Quem diligis: whom thou lovest: if Abraham had hated his Son, for his ill deportment, if he had been a dissolute prodigal hare-brain, than the case had been altered, but being virtuous, prudent, modest, & affectually beloved of his Parents, the commandment was bitter: Isaac; Mirth, or joy, or laughter, not only because Sara laughed, when the Angel promised her, she should conceive in her old age, but also for that children born of parents in their last years, are commonly more comfortable and more delightful unto them, than those which were begotten in their youth. Offeres eum in holocaustum. Thou shalt offer him for a holocaust. What terrible bloody words were these in the cares of a father, to imbrue his hands in the blood of his only dear son? The precept was rigorous, the gift precious, Abraham obsequious, & the kind commander in show severe, but in effect propitious: yet all conclude, that the excessive dearness of the gift unto the Giver, exceedingly augmented the value thereof; the poor widow of Sarepta, who in the extreme dearth of the country had nothing to relieve hirself & hi● son, but a little slowre in a pot, & a little oil in a bottle, yet in regard she so willingly imparted part of that little to Elias the prophet, it seemed God would not let that flower 
3. Reg. 17.  & oil diminish, until such time as the sterility was passed. The like we may say of that other silly Soul, which of her necessary sustenance cast 2. mites into the common chest of the temple, & for that cause by Christ himself, was reputed the liberallest benefactor to that church, because the necessity of the gift declared the magnisicency of her mind. And generally where a person depriveth himself of any thing, which he accounteth and prizeth much, there cannot be but great love and affection, for therein he overcometh great difficulty, which men commonly prove in the accomplishment of such difficile effects: and moreover, a man by spoiling himself, of that is very dear unto him, showeth evidently, that his friend is much more dearer, for whose cause he doth willingly want it.   

5. Circumstance. The greatness of the Gift in itself.  
THe fuller Fountain causeth a greater Spring: the better Plant the more precious Fruit: the fatter Soil the more plentiful Harvest: and the kinder Heart the greater Gifts. Among special and entire friends, Gifts admit not degrees of greater or lesser, because such have all their goods and abilities, one at the beck and least intimation of an other: whereupon grew that solemn sentence, Amicorum omnia sunt communia. But this Circumstance holdeth among our common friends and general well-willers, whose affections by little and little discover themselves unto us: and this rule is not to be esteemed one of the worst, that greatness of gifts argueth greatness of good will: for although some few prodigal persons lavish forth their substances for a vain project and estimation to be reputed liberal, bountiful, and despisers of Fortune's favours: yet when evidently we are not certain our Well-willer is such a brainsick person, right Reason teacheth us to infer out of the greater gift the greater good will: and consequently to deserve a correspondence of a semblable affection.  
Some gifts are so exceeding in value and so unprizable, that a man is never able perfectly to recompense them, as for example, young Toby conferring with his old father what reward they should bestow upon the Angel Raphael, who had guided and protected him in 
Toby. 12.  all his journey, said thus unto him. What reward shall we give him? or what thing worthy of his benefits? he carried me, and brought me back again in health: he received the money of Gabelus: he procured me a Wife, and delivered her of the Devil, he comforted her parents, he hindered the Fish from devouring me, he hath caused you see the light of heaven, and thus hath he replenished us with all good things. What condignly may we for all these bestow upon him? But I beseech you father to request him, if perhaps he will vouchsafe to accept the one half of all these riches we have brought. Thus the grateful Toby acknowledged the Angel's gifts greater, than he could ever satisfy: howbeit in recognition of his good will, he offered half he had, whereby with the greatness of the remuneration, he intended to declare unto the Angel the greatness of his affection.  
It is a common received principle as well among profane philosophers, as sacred writers, that the gifts of God, of nature and grace; the gifts of parents, of body and life; the gifts of instructors in learning and manners are unvaluable, and inecompensable: for as virtue, learning, body, life, soul, grace, far surpass in degree and perfection all other riches and treasures whatsoever, so all men in respect of such persons must for ever hold themselves obliged, and never out of debt: because the virtue of gratitude is such, that a man should ever recompense the benefit received like the earth, which receiveth one grain of ●●lieate, and yieldeth therefore twenty and more so benefits should ever be repaid with interest, for if we return less we remain in debt, if equal we seem to exchange, and rather follow the law of justice and equality then of friendship and amity: therefore by gratitude we ever ought to exceed the gift in value, which we receive, wherein equality releeseth recompense, and the excess an emulous superiority in good will.  
Zuxis a famous Painter so prized his Pictures, that he gave them all away, and never would sell any, because he thought them so precious, as no gold could countervayle them. Some others I have known who esteemed no less their literal labours, because they were offsprings of wit, distilled from the purest spirits in their brains, the which therewith they had abundantly consumed, and therefore not to be bought with any treasure: beside, books divulged are general gifts, and common communications of wisdom, the which ought so much more to be esteemed, how much wisdom surpasseth all worldly wealth: bonum quo communius eo melius, and every good, the commoner, the better: for it were malicious perversity, to withhold from others a good thing profitable to many, without our impeachment and hindrance: wherefore I cannot but condemn that repining indignation of Alexander the great, who understanding that Aristotle his in●●●●●or had divulged publicly his book of Metaphysics which he had taught him privately, wrote unto him in anger, that in so doing he had left him nothing peculiar, whereby he might excel all others in knowledge and science, as though it grieved him that any man should be wise except himself. With how much more reason and charity desired Moses, that all the people might prophetize, Quis tribuat ut omnis populus prophetet, 
●●●. 11. 29.  & det eis dominus spiritum suum?   

6. Circumstance. If the gift tended to our great good or riddance from some great evil.  
A Shower of rain after a long drought, is more worth, than ten showers another time: Money lent a Merchant falling bankrupt to uphold his credit, may be accounted so much money given. Those loaves of bread and that sword Achimelech gave David in his flight from the face of Saul, were questionless in his penury, 
1. Reg. 22.  ten times more grateful and acceptable, then in his abundance. Therefore it is great prudence & friendly policy to reserve gifts, and helps for men till great wants, because they prise a little more then, then much another time. And withal it deserveth consideration, that in such cases, not only the affection wherewith we bestow the benefit upon him, but also the good which ensueth, and the evil which he escheweth, and all such desiderable consequent effects, are thought intended wished, and to proceed from that favour we show in such a case, so opportunely, and in such extremity.   

7. Circumstance. If it be given with alacrity.  
I Have received some gifts of friends, given with such a promptness, alacrity, & show of affection, as in very truth it seemed uno me, that the very manner of giving doubled the gift. When the Angels came to Abraham in the vale of Mambre, he invited them to dinner with 
Gen. 1●.  such alacrity, so civilly and affectuously, as in very deed they had seemed to have used him discourteously if they had refused his importune courtesy. 1 If you favour me, 2 pass not your servant, 3 I will bring a little water to wash your feet, 4 and rest under the tree: 5 I will bring you some bread, 6 and you shall 〈◊〉 your hearts, 7 and then you shall departed: 8 therefore you came this way: the Angels accepted his invitation, 9 and the good old man ran presently and brought the tenderest and best calf he had, and caused one of his servants to kill him, 10 & Sara in as great haste moulded passed to make them ember-cakes: 11 when all was done Abraham stood & served while they sat down. All these circumstances show the great desire that Abraham had to entertain those strangers. I have seen some men so ready & prompt to grant what was requested them, that they would have moved almost an indurat heart to have loved them, for no sooner you had represented your desire unto them, but presently you should have had such a resolute answer as possibly you could have expected in your heart, from the most dear friend you had in the world. Mary sir with all my heart, and I give you a thousand thanks you would show me such a favour, as to demand such a thing at my hand: this is not sufficient, will you more, better? etc. and this they did not ceremoniously, but really, the face, hand, gestures, and deeds, all sounded the same.   

8. Circumstance. If it were given by our enemies.  
THe law of Christianity correcteth the errors of corrupted Nature, and directeth men assisted by God's grace, to love their enemies, and show good will to them, who bear ill will to us. Herein we are commanded to imitate our heavenly Father, who stayeth not the beams of his Sun from lightning & heating his most obstinate enemies, as Pagans, jews, Turks, heretics and obstinate sinners: nor withholdeth the sweet showers of rain from watering, suppling & nourishing their lands and possessions, yea, & if we see our enemy's Ox or Ass erring, he enacted a strict precept to return them to their Master: and if he were hungry, 
Exod. 23. 4.  he commanded us to feed him; Si esnrierit inimicus tuus ciba illum: si sitierit, da illi aquam bibere, prunas enim 
Proverb. 25. 21  congregabis super caput eius, & Dominus reddet tibi. Here he giveth a singular good reason why this Circumstance of enmity increaseth the value of the gift and most effectually moveth to love: for, bestowing benefits upon our enemies, we heap burning coals upon their heads, able to consume and dry to dust all the malignity of malicious enmity: for our Enemies receyving favours, where they expected furies, and reaping benedictions and gifts, where they expected maledictions and hurts, cannot but be mollified, and well perceive that charity lodgeth where they supposed malice lurked, and in am of revenge, they cannot but return love: for as benefits at enemy's hands were not deserved, so being bestowed they deserve to be loved.   

9 Circumstance. If it were granted without suit or request, of the Givers own accord.  
IT is a principle of Stateliness, among great Personages, to use long delays in granting Suitors their requests: if it be to bestow some gift, in delaying, they think men more depend upon them, and the difficulty of obtaining will make them esteem it more. If in pardoning some offence, then by delay of granting, they cause the offenders in the mean time to conceive thereby the foulness of their faults, and in others, the 
Post haec autem dixit ●ntra se: etsi Deum non timeo, nec hominem revereor, tamen quia molesta est mihi haec Vidua, vindicabo illam, ne in norissimé veniens sugillet me. Luc. ca 18. Et si ille perseveraverit pulsans, dico vobis, & si non dabit illi, s●rgens eo quod amicus eius sit, ●r pter importitatem tamen e●us surget, & dabit ●● illi quotquot habet necessarios. Luc. 11.  rigorous severity held in pardoning, will strike a terror of offending. But howsoever it be, long delays, and many suits vilify the gifts in both: for charè emitur, quod precibus emitur, it is bought dearly, which is purchased with long prayers. For importunity of prayers will wring out favours almost perforce, because a man to be rid of such molestations and clamorous requests, had rather grant a suit against his will, then endure such importune petitions: the which our Saviour declareth by the example of the wicked judge, who although he neither feared God, nor respected man, yet the poor widows importune prayers enforced him to condescend to her suit. And questionless, it cannot be denied, but that when a person hath gotten his desire, after many petitions, suits and supplications, he esteemeth it more than half bought. Wherefore those Magistrates and Princes which grant favours and give offices to persons of desert without suit or supplication, are greatly to be commended: for certainly those that sue for temporal offices or spiritual dignities, by gifts, friends, or other means made by their own procurement, should ever be esteemed more unfit caeteris paribus then they who live quietly, and hunt not after such dangerous places, for it seemeth he conceaveth not well, what charge a Superior taketh upon him, and what good parts and sound virtues such an office requireth, which laboureth so extremely to be invested into such a place and dignity. For albeit Qui Episcopatum desiderat, bonum opus desiderat, yet I will not say, but most non bene desiderant: for I fear, such gapers for preferment, aim rather at the gain, than the pain; and love better the fleece then the flock.   

10. Circumstance. If the Person by giving was endangered or endamaged.  
FAvours, benefits, gifts, are often confounded, and yet in deed in rigour of speech, they be not all one. If a Prince show a kind countenance towards any of his Courtiers, or graceth him with any kind gesture in remonstrance of good will, every one will esteem these favours, but not account properly either benefits or gifts. If a man be assaulted by thieves, and stand in danger of death, if casually a passenger secure him, and so save his life, well we may say, praestitit illi beneficium, he did him a pleasure, or benefit, but not that he gave him a gift. For Donatio, whencefrom proceedeth Donum, is libera translatio juris, dominij: possessionis, usus, vel ususfructus alicuius rei in aliquem. Giving is a free translation of the right or title, of dominion, possession, use, or fructification of any thing to any man. Sometime it happeneth, that the gift bringeth with it, not only the title of some right, but also it serveth us presently to rid us from some evil, as was said above in the 6. Circumstance; and daily experience teacheth, that before men fall to extreme distress of poverty, discredit, imprisonment etc. good friends secure and relieve them with money; in such extremities the money is a gift and a benefit, because it conferreth some good, and delivereth from some evil. Otherwhiles it chanceth, that the Giver, to do us good, depriveth, not only himself of the gift he giveth, but thereby he incurreth some great peril, danger, or evil. As befell Achimelech, who relieved 
1. Reg. 22.  David in his passage from Saul, for which charitable courtesy, he incurred the King's disgrace, and afterwards lost his life. And in this Circumstance enter many and various degrees of danger and damage, for the greater peril, or grievouser evil incurred by the 
Qui negligit damnum propter amicum justus est. Proverb. 12.  gift, increase the goodness and valuation of the gift, and argue a greater good will: and there ought precisely to be examined and exactly considered: for as this case occurreth daily, so it ought to be weighed marvelous circumspectly.   

4. Circumstances more.  
Unto the former Circumstances, we may for better distinction & fuller comprehension of the matter, add 4. more. The first is, Vehemency of affection, which appertaineth to the manner of giving, & may be reduced to the 7. Circumstance of Alacrity: yet in very deed these two differ: for diverse times we give things speedily, and quickly, because we esteem them not much, or for some interest, or other respect; albeit with no great affection: yet the way to wade into men's hearts, and discover whether they bestow their benefits upon us, with such entire and full affections or no, may be these. First alacrity in giving is a good sign. 2. If in the giving we perceive the giver much presseth himself. 3. If the gift be great in itself. 4. If some danger be imminent unto the giver for such a gift. 5. If the giver be our entire friend. 6. If our capital enemy, for therein we may think, he by a vehement charitable good will, overcometh himself.  
The second is, if the gift be common to many; as if a Prince bring a Conduit of most excellent water into the Centre of a City. If a Noble man erect a great Hospital for the poor, blind, lame, and impotent. If a devout Citizen give all he hath to build a Church, Bridge, or such like charitable works, these benefits, as they are extended to many, so they are more worthy in this respect, than such as are communicated to few.  
The third is, if in giving gifts among a multitude of equal desert, one be singled from the rest, upon whom it is bestowed, for in such a case, affection signiorizeth, and love maketh election, because when in the receyvers there is none or small difference in merit, than the determination resteth upon the giver's good will, which then may best be declared, when among many, specially one is severed.  
The last is lack of interest, for such gifts as are unspotted with any blemish of private profit, warrant us▪ of a sincere affection: but how may we know, when givers aim rather at utility then amity? first, if we be well acquainted with their prowling, shifting, crafty, undermining nature, we may assure ourselves, that that flame is the effect of sea-coals, which carrieth ever more smoke of self-love, than fire of refined good will. 2. If apertly by some circumstance of speech or request he maketh, we see evidently some commodity conjoined, as for example, in all suitors presents, a man of a bad scent may easily feel a smell of profit, which perfumeth those gifts. 3. If a mean man bestow a great gift upon one in authority, which hath no need of it, such a token for most part telleth his master's errand, to wit, that such a present must prepare the way for some future favour: and this rule we are to think holdeth so much the surer, when the giver is in some want and necessity. 4. If the customary use of such gifts require some interest, as commonly poor men's New-year gifts, require better recompensations than they bring.   

Certain Corollaries deducted out of the precedent Discourse of the Motives to Love.  
THe first Corollary concerneth the love of God, the which in giving us the second Person in Trinity, to be our Saviour and Redeemer, hath almost observed all these Circumstances of gifts in a most eminent degree, as, if I would enlarge this Chapter, I could make most manifest: but every discreet learned Divine, without much labour, by appropriating only these general considerations to those special meditations, may perform it by himself.  
The second Corollary, touching the Motives of Love, which are in number seventeen, for memory's sake we may reduce to 3. heads. For love is an operation of the Will; the Will affecteth nothing but candied with Goodness; Goodness generally is divided into three kinds, Honesty, Utility, Delightfulness, but in regard that things profitable are esteemed good or bad, honest or unhonest in respect of the end whereat they aim, (for they be always means, and level at some end) therefore I thought good to obliterate that second member, and in am thereof, insert conveniency or agreeableness to Nature: for such things we love for themselves, and as it were in them stay our affections, without relation to any other particular project.  
Goodness the object of our will, is the perfection or appetibilitie of every thing real or apparent; and is divided into 

1. Honest: which is the object of virtue, and consisteth in conformity to Reason: comprehending these motives to Love. 

2 Excellency— in 

Prudence.  
Learning.  
Fortitude.  
Magnanimity.  
Temperance.  
justice, etc.    
3 Bountifulness.  
4 Condonation of injuries.  
5 Toleration of wrongs.  
6 Riddance from evil.  
7 The manner of giving gifts.    
8. Convenient to nature, that is, agreeable to nature for the conservation thereof, either in being, perfection, or preservation of the kind, and includeth these motives to Love. 

9 Parentage.  
10 Beneficence.  
11 Necessity.  
12 A special kind of hatred causing union.    
13. Delightful, that is, a certain kind of goodness polished with pleasure: or wherein pleasure specially appeareth, and containeth these motives to Love. 

14 Beauty.  
15 Profit— of 

Soul  
Body  
Fortune.    
16 Resemblance— in 

Nature  
Affection  
judgement  
Exercise.    
17 Love of 

Benevolence  
concupiscence        
I am not ignorant that the immensity of man's will may chop and change these motives of love in divers manners: for if we relieve often poor men's miseries for vainglory, we pervert the virtue of mercy; if some fast for hypocrisy, they abuse the virtue of temperance; if some pray with pride and contempt, as the arrogant Pharisee, they stain the virtue of religion: and questionless, any wicked man may love him that easily condoneth injuries, not for honesty and virtue, but thereby to prevail more against him, and crow more insolently over him, to cousin him the more boldly, and deceyve him without punishment. Likewise, though beauty be placed among the objects of Delight, yet it may be affected for honesty; and so I say of almost all the rest. But here I consider the first aspect, and connatural show that all these objects carry with them, and how they first enter into a man's affection, and are apt to move: and in this sense I doubt not but their seats are right, and in consideration thereof, I have reduced them to these heads.  
The third Corollary. It may easily be perceyved in every one of these motives, how much more is insinuated then is set down, and a good Scholar with a flight meditation, may by discourse apply these generalities to particular matters, for the motive of pleasure or profit may be minced into many parts, and in every one a number of particular reasons, found out apt to induce the persuasion of the same passion, and so I, say of the rest. Much more I could have added to every one, but then the Treatise would have grown too great, wherefore I judged it sufficient to touch the tops of general persuasions to stir up love, intending thereby by to represent occasions to wise men of discourse: for a slender insinuation will content a ripe apprehension, and afford matter enough to a sound judgement. It might have passed a great way further, and have explicated the supreme perfections in God, all which were able to move a man's heart, much more than these we have delivered, because as they infinitely surpass all here we feel, see, imagine or understand; even so they would abundantly stir up our affections to admire, love and adore him: yet also them I thought good to omit as not so proper to our present intent; nevertheless I cannot ore-slip some rude delineaments thereof, thereby opening the way to pregnant wits of pregnant matter.  
The fourth Corollary appertaineth unto the circumstances of imparting gifts or bestowing benefits. wherein it is to be noted for memory sake, that we may consider four things in the giving of a gift, all necessary, and all belonging to our purpose, as in the subscribed Table shall plainly appear.  
In bestowing a gift we may consider the 

Giver and his 

1 Greatness.  
2 Strangeness.  
3 Friendship  
4 Enmirie.  
5 His danger and damage.    
Gift 

6 If exceeding great in itself.  
7 If marvelous dear to the Giver.  
8 If common to many.    
Receiver 

9 If it tend to his great good, or riddance from some great evil.  
10 If in giving he be singled from the rest    
Manner of giving. 

11 If with alacrity.  
12 If without suit or request.  
13 If with vehement affection.  
14 If without interest.      
The fift Corollary respecteth the practice of the aforesaid Motives, the which may be used after this manner. First I suppose a man that intendeth to move passions, aught to have time and space to prepare himself for cursory persuasions; for extemporal inventions seldom make any deep impressions, because as in such cases the inducements are not well examined, nor the manner of delivery premeditated, so the point in question cannot be so substantially grounded and forciblely persuaded, as if Art in manner and matter had co-operated with Nature. Secondly, presupposed then a man have leisure to enrich his discourse, after one hath perused and well understood the precedent Motives, he should glance over these Tables, and either in his own meditation, or in perusing some short treatise of his matter of Love to be persuaded, reduce what he readeth to these heads set down. As for example, if he exhort Subjects to love their Country, Students to love learning, Soldiers to love Martial Discipline: Men to love their Wives: Children to love their Parents: Women to love Modesty, in all these and such like, a little labour conjoined with this help will minister abundance of matter to stuff an Oration, or Panegericall persuasion.   

Means or Motives to move Hatred, Detestation, Fear, and Ire.  
THe Philosophers universally define, that Contrariorum est eadem disciplina: Contraries are taught in like manner: and contrariorum contraria est ratio; contraries have contrary reasons: so to our purpose with great facility, we may now declare what Motives stir up Hatred by assuming the contraries to Love: for example, if Love itself be a Motive to Love, than Hatred contrariwise is a Motive to Hatred: If resemblance in nature, affection, judgement and exercise cause union and love; certainly, dissimilitude in nature, difference in judgement, disparity in affections, diversity or opposition in exercise, cannot but breed dissension and hatred. Wherefore he that perfectly understandeth the former Treatise of the Motives to Love, and of himself can si●t out their contraries▪ hath a sufficient panoply and Treasury of Reasons to stir up Hatred.  
Furthermore, for better intelligence it is to be considered, that Divines and moral Philosophers distinguish two sorts of Hatred, the one they call Odium abominationis; Hatred of abomination: the other, Odium inimicitiae, that is, Hatred of enmity. For as in Love, we affect the Person and wish him well; so in Hatred of enmity, we detest the Person and wish him evil: as, if I love my friend, I wish him health, wealth and prosperity: If the judge hate the these, he wisheth him the gallows: But in this we differ, that I love my friend, and health also, as good for my friend, so that my love is complete and entire: but the judge abhorreth the thief, and loveth the gallows, as a due punishment and deserved evil for the thief. Contrariwise, as in hatred of enmity, the person stained with vice, moveth me to detest him and wish him evil, so in hatred of abomination, for the love I bear any person, I hate all evils which may befall him: for example, a man loveth his child, and therefore abhorreth death as evil of the child; a just man loveth God, and therefore detesteth sin, as an injury done to God; a man loveth his own health, and therefore hateth diseases, or what else may cross his health. So that here we have three things: hatred of evil, in respect of the person we love: love of evil, in respect of the person we hate: hatred and love combined in one respect of perfit enmity and complete hatred.  
Besides, as love leveleth at goodness, without desiring or hoping for it, and only taketh a good liking and complacence therein: so desire passeth further, and wisheth the enjoying thereof, albeit such a wish meddleth not with hope of obtaining it; for many wish Mines of gold, States and Kingdoms, which they never expect, nor hope to possess: Hope addeth expectation, for perceiving some probable possibility of purchase, she standeth waiting how to come by it. For example, Cardinal Wolsey in his younger years perhaps loved, and desired the degree of a Cardinal, but yet being so far from it, he had small reason to expect it, but after he was entertained of the King, and employed in affairs for the State, than he got ground for expectation, and so fell into the passion of Hope. On the other side, hatred first detesteth the evil in itself, either of enmity or abomination, as wicked men, death, dishonour, etc. without relation to us or our friends. Detestation fuga or flight abhorreth them as hurtful to us or our friends: but as yet they being afar off, and not very likely to befall, entereth not into the passion of Fear, the which then stirreth, when danger approacheth. Ire proceedeth from some injury offered, and therefore hateth the inflictor, and by all means possible seeketh revenge. Wherefore Ire, Fear, Flight, including every one of them a certain sort or spice of Hatred, what generally can be said of it, will serve for all them in particular; howbeit, some special considerations we will set down in special for their peculiar Motion.   

Particular Motives to Hatred of Enmity.  
ALthough, as I said above, the Motives to Love contraried, be good means to persuade Hatred: yet for that, as Philosophers say, Bonum ex integra causa consistit, malum ex quolibet defectu: Goodness cannot consist without the integrity of all parts, evil may and ordinarily doth happen upon every defect: that a man be in health, it is necessary every humour hold his just temper and proportion; that a man be sick, it is enough that one humour only exceed: that an harmony of Music be good, all parts must keep tune, time, and apt concordance; that it be bad, one jarring voice will disconsort all: in like manner, that a man be honest and good, is required that he be endued with all Virtues: to be nought or ba●●e▪ it is sufficient he be a drunkard, a thief, a whoremaster▪ an usurer, or infected with any one vice, etc. Wherefore honest love supposing a man to be virtuous absolutely, thereupon groundeth most effects of kindness, and therefore the contrarieties thereof will not so aptly move hatred, as some other particular considerations: for example, we determined, that toleration of wrongs, moveth a man to love: the contrary of this will hardly stir up hatred, for if we grant, that him we hate refused to suffer any wrongs for us, but avoided them with main & might, we may well conclude, he doth not greatly love us, but violently we should infer therefore, that he deserved hatred; and so I say of some others, therefore for more perspicuity, and that we may find out more urgent arguments to induce men to hatred, the case is to be sifted a little more narrowly. In hatred of enmity we detest the person, as stained with evil, sin, vice, or wickedness, for which we wish him justly punished: wherefore all these reasons which induce us to conceive the greatness of his offence, or the indignity of the person, or ill demeanour of his life towards God, in himself or his neighbour, all these abundantly will excite hatred against him. Sometimes occasion will be offered to move the passion of hatred against some particular person, as to inveigh against a Traitor, or public enemy to the State or ourselves: otherwhiles against a whole State, as Turks, jews, Pagans, Heretics, Rebels against a Commonwealth, or some Kingdom which warreth with us: and as these evils are different, so by diverse means we must persuade our auditors or friends to hate them.  
A private person may be brought into contempt and hatred by Motives gathered from these three Principles. His Ingress into this world: His Progress of life: His Egress or death.  

His Ingress. § 1.  
1 IF his Parents were base, wicked, or infected with any notorious vice; if deformed in body, or marked by any monstruositie of Nature.  
2 If the manner of his begetting was unlawful, as Bastardy, and herein be diverse degrees of fornication, adultery, incest, sacrilege.  
3 If he were born at such a time as the influence of the heavens had some extraordinary action in the tempering of his body, as dog▪ days: or at what time his father was in prison for some demerit: or in time of great plagues or diseases, or commotion in the commonweal.  
4 If he were borne in a bad place; as a wicked Country, among vicious people: if in a City treacherously inclined, or hath been branded with any notorious vice, or persons infamous.  
5 If his mother in her childing died, or was tormented in bringing him into the world, with more vehement pangs, than women commonly suffer: or if before his birth, his good father died, as though God would not vouchsafe to let the wicked child behold his father's face▪ or presently after he was borne, wherein God showed him a most special grace, to take him away betime, lest his wicked son had carried his grey hairs with sorrow to his grave.  
6 If in the childish years he accustomed to steal, lie, swear, or were addicted to any vice, which showed the first buds of a blasted body, and corrupted soul.  
But some will object, as I have heard diverse, what fault have I if my Parents be vicious and base? And what commendation is thine, if thy parents be virtuous and noble? and yet, who is he, that had not rather have been borne of virtuous then vicious, noble then ignoble Progenitors? That is no fault but a stain, this no virtue but an ornament: men know full well, that waters, which run thorough stinking soils, carry an unsavoury smell: and that winds and vapours drawn from infected places, are plaguy messengers to many Countries: in like manner, Parents natural propensions to wickedness, imprint for most part in their children, a certain resemblance: wherefore as these external respects be not invincible arguments to convince a vicious nature, or a corrupted soul: so when in the progress of life, we infallibly discover an exorbitant bad carriage and brutish demeanour, than we may well infer, that the first stains and infections were ominous presages of future malice: as if Nature had foreseen what an infamous guest was to lodge in that body, and therefore prepared a lodging correspondent: Adam had a Cain, Abraham an Ishmael, Isaac an Esau, jacob a Dan, David an Absalon, and many godly Parents, ungodly children, which argueth manifestly, that neither good nature in Parents, (for what bodies could be more perfect than those of Adam and Heva, wholly framed by Gods own hands, and consequently could have no defect?) nor virtuous example, nor provident instructions can suffice to withdraw a man from wickedness, if his wicked will intendeth to follow it.  
What, have not many Bastards proved well? Yes, but more have proved ill: and consequently we may presume they will become rather vicious then virtuous; for as the Cannon law well noteth, such children are 
Ca sigens d. 56  not brought up with like care and vigilance of their Parents as other legitimate: and commonly such spurious imps follow the steps of their bad parents.   

His Progress. § 2.  
THe persons whom we intent to move to hatred 
That vice should most be amplified which the auditors most detest.  ought to be considered well before we represent unto them the filthiness of the man's vice for which we intent to make him odious unto them: for such is the corruption of some companies, as great sins with them are little accounted: for example, he that would disgrace a soldier in the Camp, by vehemently exaggerating the man's fornication, should little prevail: or a Merchant among Merchants for usury, in taking ten in the hundred: or drunkenness among the Dutch men: and such like offences before, such persons, who either will boast of them, or defend them, or at least extenuate the deformity of them: wherefore in every company that vice specially must be noted, which among these men is most detested, as treachery and cowardliness among soldiers, blood and cruelty among Citizens, all sorts of heinous offences among grave, sober, judicious, and virtuous hearers.  
As in every virtue there is a low degree, a mean, 
Intention of vice.  and an excellent: for there be beginners, goers forward and perfit, incipientes, proficientes, & perfecti. Likewise in every virtue there is a supreme excellency, rare, singular, and admirable; in temperance virginity, in fortitude apert perils of death, in prudence present resolutions, deep council in affairs of greatest importance, as manage of States, and government of Kingdoms. In justice neither to spare friend, father, mother, nor child, who offend and transgress the Laws. In magnificence to dispend great treasures readily for the honour of God, and general good of the realm. In mercy easily to pardon injuries against our own persons. As, I say, in every virtue there are found these degrees and eminent perfections, so in vices and offences there appear varieties of excesses in the same sin; as in theft he that robbeth a rich man, and taketh forty shillings from him, can not be compared to him that stealeth a kowe from a poor man, wherewith he sustained his wife and whole family, wherefore the enormity of the sin ought greatly to be weighed. Again, in vice some so far exceed, as they pass the common course of vicious persons, and arrive at a certain ferall or savage 
Savageness or feral●tie.  brutishness, delighting in nothing but wickedness, as beastly pleasures, violent extortions, cruel butcheries, and such like barbarous beastliness, whereby they make show to have lost all reason and humanity, and only follow the fury of every inordinate Passion.  
Moreover it is to be considered, that as every vice hath her intention or vehemency in malice and wickedness, so she hath an extension and various kind of deformities: for example, theft hath usury, coosonage, pilfer, burglaries, robberies: murder hath wound, laming, manslaughters, wilfull-murthers: so in intemperance, gluttony, etc. In our present case, these will mightily aggravate the persons wickedness, if we can prove him in sundry vices to have committed various excesses, and in every vice not to have wanted variety.  
Yet all the enormities a vicious wretch committeth in the progress of his life may be reduced to these iij. heads; Irreligion towards God, Injustice towards men, beastliness in himself.  
First, If towards God he hath been irreligious, an Atheist, an heretic, one that upon every little hope of preferment or gain, would change and alter his Religion: to this purpose I cannot here omit an excellent History, penned by Eusebius and Zozomenus, of Constantius the father of Constantine the great; who at what 
Euseb. in lib. 1. vitae Constant. Sozomen. lib. 1. cap. 6.  time the inferior Magistrates in every Province, by the decrees of the Emperors, most severely persecuted Christians, and with sundry sorts of exquisite torments bereft them of their lives: Constantius to try his Courtier's constancy in Christian Religion, put it freely in their election, either to sacrifice unto the Idols, and remain with him, and keep their former places and honours; or if they would not, to leave his company and departed from him: presently they divided themselves into two parts, some offered to sacrifice, others refused: by this the Emperor perceived his servants minds, and thereupon discovered the plot he had cast: wherefore reproving the former, commending the latter, expostulating with them their fear and timidity, highly exalting these for their zeal and sincerity, and finally judging them unworthy of the emperors service, as traitors to God, expelled them from his Palace: for how, quoth he, will these be trusty to their Prince, who are treacherous and perfidious to their God? the others he appointed to be his guard, to wait upon his body, and to be keepers of his Kingdom: averring that he doubted not of their fidelity to him, who had been so faithful and constant in professing and protesting their belief and religion.  
Secondly, If he conspired against the Prince or State, molested the Magistrate, injuried the Innocent, committed Murder, Rapine, Theft etc. If he be of a bloody nature, delighting in quarrels and brawls: or in fine hath perpetrated any notorious offence, whereby the Commonweal, or present auditors are damnified, either in reputation, or any other way.  
Thirdly, If he be convinced by good reasons, guilty in any one vice; that is to be amplified after the best manner: specially, if there appear in it any notable circumstance, as oppression of Widows, Orphans, Women, poor & needy men, honest, devout, or ecclesiastical persons.  
Fourthly, If he hath iterated often the same sin, so that it is rooted in him and become connatural: and consequently we may despair any emendation: then the obstinacy of his perversity deserveth greater reprehension and detestation.  
Fiftly, If he hath committed various offences, the conglobation and annumeration of them, one aptly falling in the neck of another, cannot but stir up exceedingly the Auditors to abhor him: for this extensive variety representeth the person almost wholly covered with vice and iniquity, in whose heart, as in a most filthy puddle, lie stinking all sorts of filthy offences.  
Sixtly, If in himself he be addicted to lying, swearing, periuring, cursing, lust, gluttony, drunkenness, pride, ambition, envy, detraction, railing, reviling, gaming, etc.   

Egress. § 3.  
ABout his Egress, the causes and manner of his death are to be considered: as, if he were culpably the cause or occasion of his own death: if his death were violent, or any way extraordinary, whereby it may be gathered, that God extraordinarily rid the world of such a reprobate: if in his sickness he repent not, but rather despaired or presumed: if he died like a Candle which leaveth the snuff stinking after it, that is, all men that knew him, rejoiced that he was gone, spoke ill of him, lamented of injuries done them by him: if he left children of ill behaviour after him. These and many more such like considerations, will sufficiently serve to sift out the roots and grounds whereupon amplificative persuasions must be built.   

Hatred of a community. § 4.  
IN exciting Hatred of a Community, Kingdom, Province or any Society. First we may weigh their natural dispositions and bad inclinations: and specially those, which most offend our present Auditors.  
First, As if they be our ancient enemies, if by nature bloody, crafty, proud, insolent in government, impatient of Superiors or equals: if cosiners, extortioners, invaders unjustly of others dominions: aiders or abetters of rebels or our adversaries.  
Secondly, If their religion be Paganism, judaisme, Heresy, or turcism: and in particular, some of their principal and most palpable errors should be touched, and if we could discover any (as for most part all abound) point or points they maintain against the law and principles of Nature, than such a Position well declared, and the absurdities evidently inferred, cannot but work great effects.  
Thirdly, If in their temporal Laws, they have enacted any tending to tyranny and oppression, if to further vice, and hinder virtue.  
Fourthly, If they hold, pretend, or endeavour to bereave our State of any part of pre-eminence, dignity, signiory, province or country thereunto belonging: if they have abused or injuried our State, Prince, or Subjects any way, in person, goods, or fame etc. And in fine, the number of spiteful injuries offered, cannot but stirr●●p the spirit of spite against them.   

Hatred of Abomination. § 5.  
HAtred of Abomination, as was said above, consisteth in a detestation of evil, for the love we bear the Person: as jacob so dolefully lamented joseph (whom he supposed dead) for the tender love he bore his person: And how bitter is the memory of death to that man, which hath peace and great felicity in his substance, and that loveth extremely this transitory life? To move this Hatred, two things specially are diligently to be observed: first the Person beloved, and all those reasons which may stir up his love: then the hurt of the evil, and all the harms it bringeth with it: for example, we ought for the love of our own souls, and the souls of our neighbours, detest and abhor sin, and the offence of God: now all those inducements which move us to love our souls, strike in our hearts a horror of sin, which is the death and destruction of souls. And all those reasons which show the deformity of sin, stir up a detestation thereof. The general Motives alleged above, applied to this particular, will suffice to persuade us to love our Souls: the nature & harms consequent unto sin and all other evils, we would induce our auditors to detest, may be collected out of the common places of Invention, reduced above to Ansit, quid sit, quale sit, & propter quid sit.   

Means to move flight and fear. § 6.  
WE said, that flight or detestation was opposite to desire: and that desire was the wishing of a thing abstracted from hope or expectation thereof, as every beggar would be a King if he might choose, albeit he never had, nor is like to have any hope of the aspiring thereunto. Flight is a detestation of some evil, though not imminent, nor expected, yet such an evil as we abhor it and detest it, and possibly may befall us, as a king to fall to poverty, beggary, or servitude he abhorreth; yet because he living in such prosperity conceiveth no danger nor peril, therefore he standeth in no fear. These two passions of desire and detestation, are stirred up with the same motives that love and hatred of abomination, for as all the reasons apportable to render the thing amiable, the same make it desiderable, so all the inducements which persuade the object of hatred to be abominable, all the same cause it seem detestable. As for example, I have a virtuous friend whom I love entirely, he converseth with Atheists, the more I love him, the more I hate Atheism, as evil to him, and therefore I abhor it should any way befall him. I am moved to abominate it as an extreme evil, for what can be more sottish, then to deny a God whom all creatures confess and say ipse fecit nos, & non ipsae nos, he made us, and not we ourselves? what can be more beastly than not to acknowledge him nor his benefits, who every moment poureth upon us sundry favours? What horrible disorders should we see in the world, if there were not supposed a God that governeth and knoweth all, and at last with the balance of his inflexible justice will examine, judge and reward all? No doubt but if Atheism once enter into the hearts of men, virtue will be despised, and vice esteemed, might will rule right, and the rich oppress the poor, and epicurism will take full possession, edamus bibamus cras moriemur, let us gull ourselves with eating & quaffing, for after this life no other remaineth, and therefore little it importeth us to live like beasts, and die like dogs: all these and many more such like arguments demonstrate the abomination of Atheism, and also persuade evidently the detestation of the same, so that by applying the harms or damages of the evil, considered in general, and absolutely in itself, to myself, or my friend whom I love, we may easily force flight and detestation.  
Fear is a flight of a probable evil imminent: wherefore two things must be proved & amplified to enforce fear: first that the evil is great: secondly that it is very likely to happen: the excess of the evil may be gathered out of the precedent discourses, the likelihood, probability, or certainty we draw from sundry circumstances, as from our adversaries malice, & hatred against us, their craft & deceit, their former manner of proceeding, whereunto we may annex the impossibility or extreme difficulties to avoid it, as their might and our weakness, their experience and our rawness: so that where there is obstinate & implacable hatred against us; knowledge and foresight how to overcome us; power and means to put in execution potent malice and hatred, what wicked effect will not then follow?  
The vicinity also of the evil moveth much, for dangers afar off we little esteem, as subject to sundry casualties and encounters: but when they are near, and at the door, than it is time to be stirring. If an Orator would by the passion of fear move the Italians, Almains, and Spaniards to join in league and wa●re upon the Turk, he might urge them in this manner. The Romans in passed ages who with most careful eye did foresee & prevent the dangers of their Empire, thought not themselves secure in Italy, except the Carthaginians were vanquished: but how much more near are the Turkish Cities to Spain, Germany, and Italy, than Carthage was to Rome? What a swift Navy of Gailies hath 
Danger imminent.  he always prepared by Sea, and therefore in one night may enter either the coasts of Italy or Spain? What an infinite Army, as well of horsemen as footmen hath he always in a readiness to invade, offend, and ruin whom he will almost at unawares, at least them that border upon him, ere they can be half prepared? Of what force is this tyrant? The Romans still lived in fear of the Carthaginians, though diverse times overcome by them, and have not we much more reason to fear the Turkish puissance? What fortresses hath he won from Christians? what Cities sacked? what Provinces 
The Turks forces.  vanquished? what Kingdoms subdued? what Empires spoiled, enjoyed, possessed? Who ruleth now afric? The Turk, either all, or most. Who signorizeth over Asia? The Turk. Who doth domineer over the greatest part of Europe? The Turk, his treasures are infinite, his victuals abundant, his people innumerable, and so subject and obedient, that they repute it a favour to be bereft of their lives at their emperors pleasure. Are all Prince's Christian able to leavy and maintain an army of 300000. fight men. Solyman brought so many before Vienna in Austria, what will such a world of combatents do? nay, what will they not do? Cover the fields like Locusts, in expugnation of Cities, rear up mountains of earth in a moment, fill up ditches with dead corpse of their own men to scale the walls, with the very sight of such an invincible multitude strike terror and amazement in the hearts of all them that shall see them or hear of them. His malice is 
The Turks hatred against Christians.  no less than his might: what pretendeth he in Constantinople? forsooth to be Emperor over all Europe, and successor to Constantine the great, this he claimeth as right, this he meaneth to win by might, this he resolveth to enjoy at length. Did he ever yet overslip opportunity when Christians were at civil brawls among themselves, or that he perceived any little advantage ready to further his plots? let Rhodes, Cypers, Buda, and the best part of Hungary witness his vigilant malice, and malicious intent. Whom hateth he more than Christians? who hold him for an usurper; who of right should possess and inherit all he hath. Whose religion hath he extinguished in all those worthy kingdoms he now enjoyeth, but Christianity? Whom calleth he dogs but Christians? But the Persian as yet holdeth him play, as potent as he, thirsty of his blood, as the Turk of Christians. If that were not, truly (except miraculously God preserved Christianity) we should have seen all Europe overrun: But why may we not suppose that at last they will come to some truce or cessation from wars for a long time, as a wearied with so much warring and bloodshed, or finally conclude a peace? and what then is like to befall us? why rather were it not better now for all Christians to be at peace among themselves, and assault and invade him upon this side, while we have the Persian to encounter with him on the other? O blindness! O proud ambition of Christian Princes! who seek rather to spoil their brethren of their own with injury, than they will war against their common Adversary to recover their own right.  
Put case the Turks break over their banks, and make a general inundation over all Europe, what great harm might we expect? what harm? God avert us from proving the Turkish tyranny? what man is secure 
The greatness of the evil feared.  of his life in their Invasion, who hath either strength, wisdom, wealth, or nobility? whereby he may seem either to have opposed, or hereafter oppose himself against them? what Matron, what Virgin, what Lady shall befree from their beastly violence? who shall keep lands or live under the clouches of such ravenous Kites and devouring Cormorants? whatsoever a man getteth with his sweat and industry, when he dieth, the great Turkish Tyrant must inherit, and what he deemeth or pleaseth, shall be allowed the wife and children.  
The Galleys shall then want no Slaves to lead a hellish thraldom, when they have vanquished so many as they may use in all drudgery and slavery at their pleasure: the children, who are warlike in their infancy, perforce shallbe taken from their parents, & sent into a far country from them, & there trained up in martial prows and turcism, and forget both father & mother, country and kindred, and neither yield comfort ever to progenitors, nor receive any comfort from them. Many more such tyrannical vexations, & barbarous cruelties I could recount, but he that will not be moved with these, I hold him neither a wise moral man, nor any way touched with one spark of christian zeal.   

Means to move Ire. § 7.  
IRe includeth in it a certain hatred of enmity, and thereunto superaddeth a desire of revenge: the first part hath the same motives as hatred: and the desire of revenge may be revived, quickened and increased by the exaggeration of the injury received, the greatness and enormity whereof we have insinuated in the circumstances of bestowing benefits: for as gifts and favours proceed from kindnesses and good will, so injuries from hatred and malice, and therefore the contraries of bountiful geving will demonstrate the heinousness of spiteful injurying: wherefore as we reduced them to four heads, so we will these, to wit, the giver, gift, receyver, manner of giving; the injurer, injury, injuried, manner of injury.   

The Injurer. § 8.  
THe iniurers' baseness augmenteth the injury, as a buffer given a Prince by a Prince, were not so heinous an injury, as if a base peasant had done it▪ because as the greatness of the Prince's person aught more to be respected of a base man then of an equal Prince, so by beating him his contempt is accounted the greater.  
Secondly, if the iniure● be a wise, grave, and virtuous man, the injury by the persons dignity increaseth: for example, if a Bishop or a famous Doctor dispraise, or injuriously detract the good name of a Nobleman, Gentleman, or Cleargyman, for commonly every one will esteem it truer coming from such a man's mouth; and it is like to make deeper impression in their minds, because such circumspect persons are not accustomed without great cause and urgent reasons so to traduce any man.  
Thirdly, if the injury proceed from a public Magistrate or officer of justice whom it concerneth in equity to procure and command, that every man have right, the injury is greater: as if the judge or justice of peace infame any person called before them unjustly, the injury is almost doubled, for the innocent suffereth wrong of him who in justice was bound rather to save his credit, than so injuriously to abuse him.  
4. If the injurer were before our most special friend, for that common grammatical example that Amantium irae a moris redintegratio sunt, that lover's ire sets love afier, and friends dissensions, renew, revive, & increase friendship. This sentence I say must be seasoned with a grain of salt; and first in voluptuous love, and mercenary friendship the rule holdeth, for when such lovers live in dissension, they want that pleasure they most desired, and therefore as one who long time wanteth drink or meat after bringeth more hunger and thirst, and consequently liketh and loveth his meat and drink better than he did before, even so such want of wished delights causeth a more vehement desire, and joyful possession thereof. And yet this also must be understood when there is hope remaining of future fruition, for otherwise love transporteth herself into mortal hatred, as the spiteful malice of Putifers' unchaste wife witnesseth, in persecuting until death the chaste and innocent joseph.  
In faithful love among virtuous friends small trifling injuries are oftentimes occasion of more fervent and vigilant love, as a little 〈◊〉 in a beautiful face causeth the beauty better appear, so frivolous wrangles and friendly frowns cause the amiable union of friendship; But in great offences and premeditated injuries, which admit no tergiversation nor amicable interpretation, such of all others are most bitter and irreconcilable: and therefore Aristotle well noted, that discords 
Aristot. 7. de Rep. ca 7.  among brethren & friends were most vehement: for who would not be moved with just indignation there to find hatred, where he most affectually loved: there to receive injuries where he expected favours; there finally to reap harms where he judged the offender in duty obliged to do good?  
5. If he have received any benefits at our hands, and in am of reward, recognition, and gratitude repay us with injuries & ingratitude: and for this circumstance we read that God in the old Testament expostulating the daily injuries the stiff-necked jews offered him, he usually reprehended their ingratitude with commemorating the continual benefits he had bestowed upon them, as though such favours deserved better service.  
6. If the injurer with endamaging us, endamaged greatly himself; as a fly to put forth a man's eye, loseth her own life, so many men both wickedly and injustly care not to waste & consume their own wealth and substance in suits and laws so they may beggar their adversaries: and not much unlike him who said he could well be contented to be hanged, so he had killed his enemy. I say this circumstance aggravateth greatly the injury, because it argueth an excess of malice, whereby the injurer doth not only injury me, against equity and reason, but also rather than he will omit to harm me, he careth not to harm himself, as though he preferred my evil, before his own good, and judged it better to hurt us both, than his malicious mind should rest unsatisfied.  
7. If he had offered me many injuries before, the which I never revenged, for by this appeareth his malice is unsatiable, and therefore reiterateth often his mischievous mind, as though no drop of spite should rest in his heart unpowred out.   

The injury in itself. § 9  
WE may be injuried in the goods of our souls, our bodies, of fortune or of good name, existimation or reputation. In the goods of our souls if any man craftily inveigle our judgements with errors, heresies, or false opinions. If we be importunely induced, or deceitfully enticed to any offence of God, or breach of his commandments. If any hinder outtop us from the service of God, receiving of sacraments, hearing of his word preached or taught. In the goods of our bodies by killing, maiming, wounding, beating, or any way abusing of them. In goods of fortune by theft, cozenage, usury, not repaying due debts, hurting our cattle, fervants, children, friends, lands, tenements, or any kind of possession. In goods of same or reputation, by detracting, calumniating, convitiating, or any way dishonouring us, as mocking, gibing, or after any scurrilous manner deriding, libeling against us, or any way impeaching our good name & fame we hold among men. Ordinarily the goods of the soul are prized above the goods of the body, and these more esteemed than the favours of fortune, and they preferred before the blazon of honour: because, as the origen of love, is first a man's self, and for it all other things beloved; so these goods, which are most near himself, and concern his substance, or necessary preservation thereof, are more affectually loved, than they which touch him less; as first his body, than goods of fortune, and last of all, same. I said ordinarily, for if we compare a title of honour, as to be Earl, Baron, etc. these are to be preferred before a great sum of money: yet I doubt not, but if election were given an Earl to be a beggar, and an Earl all his life; or a simple Merchant, but exceeding rich: he would rather choose this, and refuse that, for there is no misery like Nobility pressed with penury. Wherefore always must be held with the chiefest of one degree of goods, with the chiefest of an other, and so the comparison framed, as the chiefest goods of the soul, of grace, virtue, wisdom, prudence, etc. are to be valued above the life of the body, integrity of members, wealth, fame, etc. I know against this division and reason, some will object that common Text of Scripture; Melius 
Proverb. 22. 1.  est nomen bonum, quam divitiae multae: super argentum & aurum gratia bona. A good Name is better than many riches; and a good grace, that is a gracious and favourable good liking among men; above silver and gold. But to this Text I answer, that in it are involved good friends, and their gracious good wills, which are favours of Fortune, and so to be preferred before riches, which are contained in the same degree. Secondly, fame and a good name sometime is necessary to the perfection of virtue, and the good of the soul, as without them, the Preacher should persuade but sorrily; the Magistrate be obeyed but servilely, the Prince honoured but ceremoniously; & in fine, take away a good Name, and all virtuous examples will seem counterfeit hypocrisy. Thirdly, true it is, a good Name ought to be prized above many riches, but I think there be few rich men in the world, that had not rather be injuried in their good Name, then fall to begging. Fourthly, a good Name or a good Fame waiteth upon a good Life, and he that liveth badly, for most part carrieth as bad a name and a fame: to our purpose then, a man must have care of his good Name, because he should live virtuously, whereby such a good Name is gotten: and indeed, such a precious fruit hanging upon so noble a Plant, surpasseth all worldly wealth; and this I take to be the true and literal sense of this Text of Scripture, whencefrom exhaleth that sweet and fragrant smell of gracious pleasing, and contenting of all men: for a soul that is really virtuous, and so known and blazed abroad, cannot but stir up men's hearts to like and love well such a Person.  
Every injury then offered, tendeth to the bereaving of us, of some of these goods related, of soul, body, fortune or fame, and therefore according to every degree of goodness, aught to be esteemed.  
Secondly, if the injury did us much harm, and the injurer no good: if it hurt many a Town, City, Province, State or Kingdom: for, to more persons it extendeth, the poison is more pestilent, and the malice more vehement.  
Thirdly, At what end the Injury aimed, if he cozened, to procure means to murder, to commit adultery, to hurt the State: this external Motive augmenteth his malice.   

The Injuried. § 10.  
FIrst, the greatness of the Person injuried, increaseth the injury, as a blow given to a Prince, even by a Prince, is accounted more offensive, then done to a private man by a Prince or a private person.  
Secondly, the nocuments ensuing are to be considered, which necessarily follow, and are not casually thereunto annexed. For example, one causeth an Innocent to be imprisoned or hanged by false accusations and forgeries: the charges, as fees to Officers, jailers, loss of lands, goods, liberty and life, extraordinary expenses for lodging, diet, going abroad etc. as all these damages follow and augment the injury, so they ought to be satisfied, and without consideration of this recompensation and full accomplishment thereof, the heirs of the injuried receyve not justice, nor a correspondent equality to the excess of the injury, when restitution should be made.  
Thirdly, if among diverse, who might, and in reason should have been injuried rather than we, yet upon spite, we were singled from the rest: for this injust separation proceedeth from maligning hatred, specially bend against our persons.  
Fourthly, if the person injuried, was then presently doing, or labouring for the offenders good or commodity: as if an Orator were persuading the Commonweal to some glorious enterprise, a private subject should go about to kill him.   

The manner of injurying. § 12.  
IF we be in countenance and external appearance held as friends, and secretly injuried like enemies: this dissimulation addeth an other vicious circumstance, covering enmity with amity.  
Secondly, if a long time the Injury was thought upon, and premeditated; then the continuation showeth a more confirmed ill will against us: if at Christmas, Easter, or such times as are religiously celebrated.  
Thirdly, if in place where we ought to be loved and honoured or reverenced, there we be wronged, dishonoured, disgraced: as if a Bishop should be beaten in the Church, or a Preacher threatened, preaching in the pulpit: a judge upon the Bench: a councillor at the Council table: a King in his Throne.  
Fourthly, in every particular injury, the manner of offending, and demonstrating internal exuperant ill will, may a hundred ways be varied. Who is able to recount the manners, how enemies kill, wound, and injury their Adversaries? as the very cudgel wherewith a Cavalero is bastonated, greatly aggravateth the offence, and many would wish rather to be deeply wounded with a sword, then beaten in that fashion. Caracalla the Emperor, hearing that the Lawyer Papinian was beheaded with a hatchet, was greatly offended, wishing it 
Dio. in Caracal: Herod. li. 4  had been e effected with a sword for his more disgrace and ignominy.  
Fiftly, if the injury be public, before a multitude, than the greater number concurreth to blaze abroad the Infamy: for commonly, if with words or deeds we injury one, the cause will be supposed to have been given by the person injuried, and so he must bear the blows, and also an universal discredit: I say commonly, for it seemeth difficile, how the injuried upon a sudden can quit himself of the calumniations imposed upon him, though never so innocent, because the injurer in a trice may cog out a world of lies, swear and stare against him, the which flat denial will not suffice to confute; and to convince them by witness or evident reason upon a sudden, all wise men will confess to be extreme hard.   

Means to move Hope. § 13.  
HOpe is a Passion, whereby we expect probably or certainly any future good, or any evil to happen, conceived as good. For example, the Soldier expecteth and hopeth for riches, when he lieth before a City to besiege it: the blessed Saints in Heaven live in a most certain Hope of the glorious Resurrection of their bodies: the Dyvell in tempting Gods Servants, hopeth to prevail. Hope therefore being grounded upon persuasion specially of obtaining; therefore all those Motives which render the atchyevement more likely, all those stir and move the Passion of Hope: and the more forcibly, they which persuade it most apparently and presently. This object is endless, and hardly can be brought to any Method, for as the things hoped for, are without number; so the Means and Motyves to induce men thereunto be infinite. Howbeit, these general Precepts may be observed.  
First, for that Hope expecteth the thing hoped for, of an other, or by a man's labour, endeavour, or industry: therefore we must in stirring it, have always an eye to the grounds and foundations, whereupon our Hope shall be built, for as these fadge, so Hope followeth: if these be small or frivolous, Hope is vain and ridiculous: if they be strong and sound, Hope will prove more certain and prudent: for wise men always according to these grounds judge of the event: for example, a man may well hope the Turkish Empire cannot long continue, because their manner of government repugneth with stability and continuation: for how is it possible, but that in every change of Emperor, there should succeed civil wars among them, seeing the new Emperor presently causeth all his brethren to be slain, lest afterwards they should grow potent and trouble his Reign. I omit, that this bloody unnatural Tyranny (which demandeth daily vengeance at God's hands) deserveth Division, Rebellion and Destruction, and only infer, that they being certain to die in all human Policy, nay, in natural equity, are enforced to make parts, and while their Father liveth, provide Forces and Friends, and after he is dead, to prevail by Main and Might, that their Brother's Creation be not their destruction.  
Secondly, among grave men, few reasons and strong are more effectual, than a number, but weaker: because they be able presently, by the strength of their wits, to confute and overthrow them. But a multitude of slender reasons among the common people, strike a greater stroke; for conjectures and probabilities work as forcibly with them, as deep demonstrations.  
Thirdly, to gather these Motives into heads, I hold it best, in that hope which dependeth upon the good will of another to perform, to discourse over the Circumstances of actions. Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxilijs, cur, quom●do, quando. And out of them pick some persuasions of obtaining a grant. For example; if the granter be our friend or kinsman, if of his nature liberal and bountiful, etc. Quid if the thing be profitable to the giver, or receyver, without any harm or detriment unto the giver. Vbi, if the giver or granter be in place where usually he granteth such requests, as entertained of us, taking possession of great lands, etc. If we have potent Intercessors for us, and wise Agents to procure what we desire: then this Circumstance of Quibus auxilijs will greatly further our purpose. Cur: If he have many reasons to grant our suit, and none to withstand it. Quomodo: If in the manner of granting, he win himself great credit and reputation, either because it argueth a bountiful mind, or a compassion-full heart, or a charitable conscience, or most, or all.  
Fourthly, it were not amiss to set down all the objections which any way may frustrate our Hope, and briefly, orderly, and as evidently as may be, refute them: for thereby all cavilles, and impediments shall be removed.  
Fiftly, that which I have said of Hope, by a contrary rule, may be applied unto Desperation: for the difficulty of obtaining that we desire, being remonstrated to be inseparable, either by the party's malice, or inviticible means which must be used in the procuring of it, that I say rendereth the thing desperate and consequently unexpectable.   

Means to move joy and delight. § 16.  
AS there is nothing in this life more potent than pleasure to move men to action, and the attempting of great exploits, so there is nothing more requisite to be known to any man that will be grateful & acceptable unto men, then how to move and excite them to pleasure. True it is that ambitious men aspire after honours: but why thirst they so after them, but because they take an extraordinary delight to be honoured? why do covetous cormogions distill the best substance of their brains to get riches, but after they have gotten them, to delight in the possession or fruition of them? the same may be said of all inordinate passions which consist in the prosecution of some amiable or desiderable object. And the reason is, for joy & delight are a possession of some good thing, wherein nature receiveth great contentation, and therefore a man in joy participateth a certain kind of felicity, for felicity is nothing else but a complete contentation, quietness and rest of the mind and body; wherefore the greater delight either really or apparently apporteth the greater contentation, rest and quietness, & consequently the greater felicity. And as there is no man affecteth not extremely felicity & happiness, so there is no man extremely desireth not joy & delight. They therefore that can move these passions, feed them & continue them, must needs be most grateful, acceptable, and beloved; yea they may almost do what they list in any company, for all men love happiness and the continuance thereof: and those that can aptly stir up this passion may be accounted authors of a terrestrial happiness and felicity. Therefore I will a little enlarge this discourse as most profitable, if not necessary for most sorts of men.  
First of all we must suppose, that all those motives 
Motives to delight.  which stir up love and affection, consequently move desire and delight: for love is like the quality of lenity or lightness in fire, which inclineth and bendeth it to motion, desire is the motion, passage, or voyage; delight the quietness or rest of the soul in her object, and therefore all those causes of love we have delivered in the matter of Love, all those may serve for this subject.  
Secondly it is requisite a man consider the inclinations of those persons he would move to delight, for quicquid recipitur per modum recipient is recipitur, according to the disposition of the hearer are received the words of the speaker. Some men are inclined to piety, some to study, some to one thing, some to another: every one willingly hea●eth, & delighteth to have commended that he professeth, for in praising that we commend him: and this reason is gathered out of a common experience, that men for most part desire to be praised. It is a world to see how blind self-love maketh women to dote of themselves, and it seemeth ridiculous sometime, to see how they are fed and delighted with the panigeries of parasites. I have seen some old Ladies half rotten, & some others monstrously deformed, to take an extraordinary delight in themselves, when others for flattery commended their beauty. In this point also we may consider a secret motive, to delight in that thing a man is delighted in, as if one be delighted in Music, in hunting, hawking, etc. some pretty new devise in any of them would please the person exceedingly: and therefore the parasites of Princes study daily & hourly how by deeds & words they may feed this humour: yea some of them proceeded so far in dignifying their Kings and monarchs, that they adored them as gods. And the others no less sacrilegious in accepting, them they blasphemous in ascribing, were contented to have their mortal corruptible bodies, and horribly infected sinful souls worshipped as immortal, spotless, divine deities. This act of new pleasing inventions proportionate to their passions & inclinations whom we would move to delight, cannot but greatly help us in the way of persuasion, if it be plausibly and artificially handled: for otherwise if it be grossly managed, it 〈◊〉 of flattery, and affected folly.  
3. A firm hop● & assurance of those things we desire & love, causeth delight, spe gaudentes saith S. Paul rejoicing in hope: and that other spes alit agricolas, hope nourisheth the Countrymen; for the hope of gain causeth the labouring Husbandman not to feel the scorching heat of summer, nor the hoary frosts of winter: hope of glory alotteth the soldier to receive a certain sweet mess in all dangerous encounters: hope of lucre maketh the Merchant merry at midnight, although he lie in the midst of the vast ocean sea tossed with billows, & shaken with tempests: and the surer the hope is, the greater joy ensueth, as when the Merchant after his long voyage returneth with his Ship laden with merchandise, and cometh with a pleasant gale within the sight of his expected haven, than his hope for the certainty of his future possession of his apported wealth, being delivered from all danger, is changed into joy and present delight. He therefore that will move delight in this matter of hope, must exactly declare the certain grounds & undoubted security of obtaining the thing expected, according to the rules of exciting hope, alleged in the precedent paragraph.  
4. Because delight consisteth in the possession of some good thing real or apparent; therefore all those reasons which tend to the amplification or evident demonstration of the goodness of the thing, all those are fuel of delight, and sparks of joy. For example, a man hath bought a Mannour-house wherein he delighteth: to please and delight him there is nothing more fit, then to amplify the goodness thereof: as for situation, it standeth in a pleasant air, free from fens or standing waters, no infection near it, the inhabitants in former times were of a very good complexion, lived many years, were strong, witty, etc. all which are good signs of a healthful soil: the rooms and conveyances are very apt & proportioned, the walls and roofs firm & durable, the water sweet, the walks, gardens, & other commodities so pleasant, as they resemble a Paradise.  
5. It is admirable how the minching & particularising of the object of delight increaseth and augmenteth delight, wherefore the fantastical and lascivious Poets, though vainly and viciously, yet wittily and artificially depaint their lover's bodies from the head to the heels, in every part discovering one or other perfection, excellency, or amiableness, apt to move and stir up delight. And herein also all Tradesmen excel, for to persuade their wares to be good and perfect, they will presently open unto you a number of circumstances or oppurtenances of goodness or excellency wherewith their merchandise is affected: for as they have more insight, and know more exactly the goodness and defects of their wares then other men, so they can unfold best the particular reasons which move love & delight. And for this cause I would have all those who would move men to good life & virtue, to induce them thereunto, by particularising of the pleasures & delights incident thereunto, as the quietness of conscience, the gratefulness to God, the honour & reputation of all good men, the reward in the world to come, and every one of these the finer it is sifted, the more pleasant it will appear.  
6. It importeth much in moving delight to persuade the stability and continuance thereof, that it seem not like a mayflower, which is budded, blossomed, and blasted in a small time: and the reason is, for momentary and cursory delights are for their brevity rather despiseable then commendable. The continuance of delight may be grounded upon the removing of all impediments which any way may impeach or diminish it.  
7. As there are two sorts of delight, sensual & intellectual; sensual which taketh his source from sense & passions; and intellectual, which draweth his origen from the understanding and the will: so in every object of delight there is a certain intensive goodness & perfection, and there is an extensive: as for example in a Cellar of wine there may be excellent good wine, and variety of excellent good wine, and thereby our taste may be delighted with the perfection of wine, and with the varieties of wine. In like manner in all the objects of delight, we may find a certain intention of goodness, and a certain extension, and both these well understood and declared, exceedingly increase pleasure & delight: for the intention filleth and satiateth the soul, and the extension or variety taketh away a certain distasteful loathsomeness which one kind of uniform pleasure draweth with it.      

The sixth Book, entreating of the defects or imperfections of men's souls.  
THE Geographers describing the situation of any country, are not content to set down the provinces, cities, and territories thereof, but also they depaint in their Cards, and explicate in their Books, the Countries and Cities adjoining, that thereby men might know the borders and limits of both, and not mistake the one for the other: even so, because our sensitive appetite hath the wit and will which border upon it; therefore I thought good, to declare certain of their imperfections, which knowledge will not help us a little, to discern more exactly the nature of passions. Besides, good Physicians of the body expend, not only the present ague, or humour, that causeth sickness, but also they search out the causes and offsprings of such maladies: so I think it not amiss, to show the universal causes, from whence inordinate passions proceed. And first of all we will descend unto the defects of our wits or understandings.  
2 Defects of our Understanding.  
ALl the defects of our wit may be reduced to two, Ignorance, and Error; by Ignorance we know not things necessary; by Error we know them falsely: Ignorance is a privation, Error a positive action: all ignorance cannot be prevented; many errors, but all cannot be escaped; from ignorance floweth vice, and from error heresy.  

1. Natural ignorance.  
ALl the sons of men are conceived and borne in sin and ignorance: Aristotle compareth our wits, at the beginning, to a smooth table, wherein nothing is written, but apt to receive all forms and figures: and in this truly I must confess one point of my ignorance, that it seemeth to me, that God endoweth bruit beasts with more sparks of knowledge, then reasonable men, and they may be said, even in their nativity, to have imprinted a certain knowledge and natural instinct, to inquire and find out things necessary, to be their own Physicians, to fly that may hurt them, and follow that may profit them. Mark but a Lamb almost new yeaned, how it will find forth the mother's dug, discern and single her forth in all the flock, wait upon her so diligently, within eight days it seethe light: but a child may be many days borne, and yet cannot find out his mother's dug, except the Nurse move him unto it: neither can it cure itself, or demand what it needeth, otherways then by weeping.   

II. Errors of the last end.  
WHen a man beginneth to practise a little his faculty of Understanding, than you shall see how fitly he expelleth this chaos of infinite ignorance, like an unskilful Physician, who, to cure one disease, causeth a worse; so he delivereth himself of ignorance by a multitude of errors, quenching his thirst with a potion of poison: this we may see more plainly, by the infinite errors that men are subject unto by Nature: For let us consider the famous Philosophers of passed ages, who lacking faith, bragged of natural knowledge: Which of them knew but to what end man was created of God? their dissenting sects and erroneous opinions. Lactantius and Saint Austen relate, how some thought men's last 
Lactandib. 3. divina institut. ca 7. Aug. lib. 19 civi●. ca 1. & sequentibus.  end was pleasure: others natural knowledge, some in privation of pain▪ some to live according to nature, others, the goods of the soul, the body, and fortune, with infinite such like false assertions; and this, not about a trifle or May-game, but the very main point whereat men should aim at all their lives, and whereunto they were bound to direct all their actions.   

III. Errors in the means.  
IF the end was appareled with such darkness, how how could they be but ignorant of the means necessary for the achievement of such an end? and we daily prove, what difficulty men feel, in effecting, yea, in resolving themselves, which action is good, which is bad; how many volumes have been written of cases of Conscience, and yet, what good man's conscience is not vexed some times with seruples? who can define the quality of his actions, affected with such variety of circumstances? who can resolve himself, how far●e the law of Nature engraven in our hearts extendeth? How often doth an erroneous conscience bark and bite, when the Soul did not prevaricate the Law of God, or pass the limits of Reason? This blindness of Mind, without all question, argueth great imperfection of the Soul, and extreme Misery of man. Wherefore one cried, Delicta quis intelligit? Ab occultis meis munda me Domine: and 
Psal. 18. job. 9 2●.  another, Verebar omnia opera mea.   

FOUR Difficulty in Understanding.  
But what shall I say of the wonderful difficulty all men suffer to come by the knowledge of any Truth? Veritas in profundo latet; Verity lieth in the bottom. In the West Indies, those that follow by digging, the Veins of Gold, run under high mountains, many miles, descending through stony Rocks into the bowels of the earth, yet they ever are winning ground, they reap Oar, they recompense their travel, they labour with alacrity. But in learning occurreth another sort of difficulty, Truth must be further fetched, greater sweat and industry must be used.  
For what cause I pray you, stand Schoolmasters armed daily with whips and scourges, with such sour and bitter visages with thundering & threatening words, but by terror to enforce their untoward and unwilling Youth, to overcome the difficulty they find in learning? why at this present do so many ignorant replenish the world, discoursing so blockishly, speaking so sottishly, 
Quidam sunt tantae satuitat●, ut non multuma pecor●bus disserant. Angust. ep. 28. add thereon.  answering so absurdly, that scarce you would judge them endued with reasonable souls, but only because they had rather be buried in that profound cave of ignorance, than endeavour to overcome the extreme difficulty they find in learning? What other reason can by yielded, why all ignorance and errors are not abolished, and wholly extinguished, seeing learned men have left to their posterity, so many thousand volumes, (that in some Libraries you should find, five, six, ten thousand corpse of books, all written for no other end, than to purify our wits, to consume the clouds of errors and ignorance) but the difficulty we find in attaining unto learning? Whereupon grew those dissenting and contradicting Sects of Peripatetikes, Academikes, Stoics, Epicures, Thomists, and Scotists, reals and Nominalles, but by the disprooving of one another's opinion, which proceeded from the difficulty of understanding and conceyving of Learning.   

V Ignorance and Errors about God.  
YEt, if men, by sweat and labour, by distilling their Brains, and spending their Spirits in studies, at last could win the victory of Errors and Ignorance, than all pains were sufficiently rewarded, the interest would defray the expenses of the Voyage. But alas! how many have wandered in a vast desert of learning, amongst brambles and briars, not able to pass forward, nor return backward? who would think, men could be ignorant of the Majesty of God, which all bruit and 
Interroga jumenta, et docebunt ●e, Volatilia Coeli, & indicabunt tibi, loquere terr●, & respondebit tibi, & narrabunt pisces Maris. Quis ignorat quod manus Domini haec omnia fecerat. job. 12 7.  senseless creatures confess? and yet such is, and hath been the palpable ignorance of the world, that in place of God, some worshipped Calves, others Serpents, other Crocodiles, others Onions and Garlic. I omit how many (supposed very wise) adored the Sun, Moon, and Stars, the Elements of earth, fire, and water, for these errors might have carried some show of wisdom, in respect of the other absurdities. How could men be more besotted, than to imagine God, by whom they lived, moved, and were, whose goodness sustained them, whose power upheld them, whose wisdom directed them, to be a Crocodile, or a Calf, or 
Commo●a quibus utimur, lucem qua ●rutmur, spiritum quem ducimus, a Deo nobis dari & impartiri v●demus. Cic. pro Ros●. Amer.  that Divinity could inhabit such savage Beasts? where was the immortal soul? the Image of the Trinity? the faculty of understanding? the power of apprehending, judging, and discoursing? Were all these drowned in darkness? did no spark of light or life shine over them? O ignorance intolerable! O blindness! more gross, than not to see, when the Sun lodgeth in his Zenith.   

VI Ignorance and Errors about our Souls and bodies.  
But some will say, God's Majesty dazzled their eyes, they were not able, by the weak light of Nature, to behold so superexcellent a glory: well, at least they might have known themselves; for what was more near them then their own souls and bodies, their five senses, the operations of understanding and affecting, the Passions of the Mind, and alterations of the body? yet the Ignorance and Errors, which both enchanted them, and inveigle us, are almost incredible. I could propound above a hundredth questions about the Soul and the body, which partly are disputed of by Divines, partly by natural and moral Philosophers, partly by Physicians, all which, I am of opinion, are so abstruse and hidden, that they might be defended as Problems, and either part of Contradiction alike impugned. Some I will set down, that by them conjecture may be made of the rest.  

Problems concerning the substance of our Souls.  
1 whether in men's bodies there reside more forms than one.  
2 Whether it can be demonstrated by natural reason, that the Soul is immortal.  
3 How can the Soul extend itself thorough the whole body, being a Spirit indivisible, inextensed, and able whole and entire to reside in one only and indivisible point.  
4 How are the Soul and Body, Spirit and Flesh coupled together, what chains, what fetters imprison a spiritual Substance, an immortal Spirit in so base, stinking; and corruptible a car●●asse?  
5 How, by punishing the flesh, or hurting the body, the Soul feeleth pain, and is afflicted.  
6 Whether the hairs, spirits, blood, choler, phlegm, skin, fat, nails, marrow, be animated, or no.  
7 Whether the Bones and Teeth be sensitive, or no.  
8 How the Soul containeth those three degrees, of vegetative, sensitive, and reasonable.  
9 How these three degrees do differ.  
10 How the Soul of a Child, being contained and dispersed in so little a body, when it is borne, afterward dilateth itself, and spreadeth in the body of a man.  
11 When an Arm or a Leg is cut off, by chance, from the Body, what becometh of the Soul, which informed that part?  
12 Why departeth the Soul from the Body in a vement 
Problems concerning the faculties in general.  Sickness, it being immortal, and independing of the Body, able to live in air, water, or fire.  
13 How many faculties do spring from the Soul.  
14 How they spring in order, one depending upon an other, or without any dependence.  
15 How do they differ from the Soul?  
16 Whether are they subjecteth in the Soul, Body, or the whole.  
17 What dependence hath our understanding upon 
Problems concerning our understanding.  the imagination.  
18 How a corporal imagination concur to a spiritual conceit.  
19 What is apprehension and conceyving?  
20 What judgement and affirming?  
21 What discourse and inferring?  
22 How these three differ, what is their objects?  
23 How apprehend we so many things together without confusion.  
24 How are these three operations of our wit subordinated?  
25 How they err.  
26 How they may be certified.  
27 What is a vital act of Understanding.  
28 How the forms, faculties, habits, and Soul itself concur to such an act: about every one of these four, many questions may easily be propounded, but hardly resolved.  
29 What is a Habit?  
30 How engendered?  
31 How augmented?  
32 How diminished and corrupted?  
33 In what faculties of our Souls habits principally allodge.  
34 Whether the act or habit be more perfit.  
35 How are habits distinguished in the same faculty.  
36 How the habits of our imagination and understanding, of our sensible appetite and will, differ, when they tend unto sensible objects.  
37 What is the universal object of our Understanding? every thing, or only the truth of things.  
38 Whereupon cometh the difficulty we find in Understanding, proceedeth it from the object, or the weakness of the faculty, or both?  
39 How doth Reason direct and correct Sense?  
40 Whether knowledge concurreth, as an efficient cause, to effect the operations of our will, or no.  
41 What is Art? what the Idea in the Artificers mind, by whose direction he frameth his works, what is Prudence, Wisdom, the internal speech and words of the mind.  
42 What is the habit of principles?  
43 What the law of Nature, and how engrafted in our Understanding.  
44 What is Conscience?  
45 Whencefrom proceedeth Remorse.  
46 What is evidence and certitude in Knowledge, and how they differ.  
47 How Knowledge and perfect Science, differ from credulity and opinion, and whether fear be necessarily included in every opinion.  
48 If ever man had such a demonstration as Aristotle describeth in his first Book of Posteriors.  
49 Whether a Demonstration once had, can ever be lost, or no.  
50 Why can we not come by as firm knowledge in Logic, Physics, or Metaphysics, as in Mathematics.  
51 How we understand, discourse and dispute in Dreams.  
52 Whether children discourse actually, or no.  
53 What should be the reason, why some be more apt for understanding than others.  
54 And why some more fit for one Science, than others.  
55 Why great wits have ill memories, and good memories be not of profound conceit.  
56 Why some men's wits be excellent in speculations, but very simple in practise, other rare in action, and dull in speculation.  
57 How we remember▪ 
Concerning Memory.   
58 In what part of the Brain resideth the forms fit for memory.  
59 How they be subordinated to our will.  
60 How we forget.  
61 How we conceyve things in dreams we never see nor heard of before.  
62 What helpeth and hindereth Memory, and by what manner.  
63 Why doth Memory fail in old men.  
64 Whether Memory be a faculty distinguished from our Understanding, or no.  
65 Whether artificial Memory impeacheth natural Memory, or no.  
66 How cometh it to pass, that a man can be able to recite a long Oration, from the beginning to the end, without confusion.  
67 How can one recite a Psalm from the beginning to the ending, and yet shall be scarce able to prosecute one verse, if you give him it in the midst, except he begin again.  
68 How can possibly be conserved, without confusion, such an infinite number of forms in the Soul, as we see Learned men and Artificers retain? in what tables are they painted? in what glasses are they to be seen? why doth not the huge Mountain darken little moths in the Sun? the forms of fire fight with the forms of water?  
69 How, when we would remember, can we single a Fly from the university of Beasts, fowls, and fish? how a Violet from the infinite variety of flowers, herbs and trees?  
70 What is the object of our Will? 
Concerning the Will.   
71 What Intention.  
72 What Election.  
73 What Free-will.  
74 When our Will fully consenteth to any thing.  
75 What Motives move us to love or hate.  
76 What is love, hatred, hope, desperation, fear, boldness, desire, abomination, pleasure, sadness, ire.  
77 In what consisteth the particular virtues and vices of the Will, what is humility, liberality, magnanimity, etc. all these be extreme hard to be known, and whereas one perhaps can guess grossly at some description, you shall have ten thousand, who can scarce imagine what they mean.  
78 How the Will commandeth the toe or finger to move, and presently they obey; the manner, or mean.  
79 How lower Passions of the Mind seduce and pervert the Will.  
80 How the will, being blind, can make choice and election of diverse things, preferring one before another.   
If I would follow here an other Subject, that is, the supernatural gifts wherewith GOD hath endued our souls, wits, and wills, by discoursing of Faith, Hope, Charity, and Grace, I might easily multiply this aforesaid number, with as many more, as all learned Divines will confess, but this would both pass the limits I have prescribed, and also the matter whereunto I am betaken. But let us now descend unto our sensitive appetite, wherein we may move almost all those difficulties touched in the Will.  

81 How do humours of the body stir up Passions. 
Concerning Passions and internal sense.   
82 Or, why do Passions engender corporal humours.  
83 After what manner are Passions stirred up.  
84 How they blind Reason.  
85 How they cease and fall away by themselves.  
86 Whether our coveting and invading appetites are one faculty, or two.  
87 How they are distinguished.  
88 In what subject reside they.  
89 What is our fantasy or imagination.  
90 Where it resideth, & how it receiveth & keepeth those forms and figures which sense ministered unto it.  
91 How our Understanding maketh it represent unto it what it pleaseth.  
92 How our Wit can cause it conceive such objects as sense never could present unto it.  
93 Whether it containeth more faculties than one, or no.  
94 How doth our eyes see, admitting something into them, or emitting something out of them.  
95 What is the object of our sight?  
96 In what part of the eye consisteth principally the virtue of seeing.  
97 Why do two eyes not see all things double.  
98 Why fix we steadfastly our eyes upon one thing, when we will see it exactly.  
99 Why do old men see better a far off, than near hand.  
100 Why do spectacles help the sight.  
101 And those spectacles hinder young men, which do help old men.  
102 Why hath Nature drawn so many veils, and stuffed them with humours in the eye.  
103 Why in the deepest cold of Winter, when the face is almost benumbed with cold, yet the eye almost feeleth no alteration.  
104 Why cannot many abide that you look fix in their eyes.  
105 How cometh it to pass, that green colours comfort eyes, and white or black colours spoil them.  
106 Whereupon cometh such variety of colours in the circle of the eyes.  
107 Why doth the beholding of sore eyes cause sore eyes.  
108▪ What is the cause that maketh every thing seem double, if we press the corners of our eyes.  
109 Why doth a Palace, if it be quadrangle, seem round a far off.  
110 Why do Stars in the firmament seem to us to twinkle, and not the Planets.   
Twenty more Problems I could set down, about the manner of seeing, about the Pyramid, which perspectives imagine necessary for every operation of seeing: what those axes be, those corners greater or lesser, the manner of producing those visible forms, their concourse, their substance and wonderful proprieties, all these afford abundant matter of discourse, and occasions of difficulties. But let us pass a little to our hearing.  

111 What is the faculty of hearing, where it resideth, 
Concerning Hearing.  and what is the object.  
112 How are sounds brought so far off to our ears.  
113 What is the Echo.  
114 By what manner is it made.  
115 Why may we see the flame and smoke of artillery aloof off in a moment, but not perceive the sound till a good while after.  
116 Why those that stand below in the Churchyard, hear them better which speak above, than those which stand in the Steeple below them.  
117 Why do we hear better by night then by day:  
118 Why doth the fyling of Iron grind some men's teeth.  
119 For what reason corporal Music and Consortes of Instruments so ravish and abstract a spirit, a soul, transporting it almost into a Paradise of joy.  
120 Why doth jarring voices so much discontent the ear.   
These Questions I might propound, but GOD knows, who was, is, or ever shall be able to answer them exactly; I know superficial Scholars and ungrounded Philosophers, who, ad pauca respicientes de facili judicant, will think these easy to be resolved, because they can say what they know; but that will not suffice, because the Sphere of knowledge doth infinitely exceed the limits of their capacities. As much as I have delivered in this matter, might be said of touching, tasting, and smelling; of laughing, weeping, sighing, coughing, respiring; of famine, digestion, nutrition, augmentation, generation; of the causes of many diseases, of infections, of fits of agues, their causes, courses, continuances; whencefrom proceedeth the indeficient regular, and irregular beating of the pulse, the substance, situation, correspondence, and use of all parts of a man's body, the conversion, dispersion, perfection and alteration of blood.  
No man, I think, can be learned, who may not plainly perceyve what an infinite matter I have propounded here of knowledge, and yet how little, even the wisest know. This subject would have been more apparent, if I had interlaced these questions, with diversities of opinions, and confirmed each one with the best grounds and arguments; but this curious sort of discourse, I leave to Schools. Only I will infer our extreme Ignorance, that few or none of these difficulties, which concern us so near as our souls and bodies, are thoroughly as yet, in my judgement, declared, even of the profoundest wits; for I know not how their best resolutions leave still our Understandings dry, thirsting for a clearer and fresher Fountain.   

VII. Ignorance and Errors in knowing base Creatures.  
Bit no doubt, God is of infinite Majesty, our souls immaterial spirits, our bodies thereunto proportionated, and therefore there may be some excuse pretended of this Ignorance; the objects are too noble, our capacities too feeble, the means to attain unto such knowledge, too difficult: our Soul dwelleth in the tabernacle of flesh & blood, it is drowned in humours and fatness, it is blinded with vapours & mists, it sees thorough carnal windows, and cloudy spectacles. Well, I admit this ignorant answer, but at least, if we cannot understand those things which be above us, ourselves, and those which be equal with us, we shall comprehend and fully conceyve all those Creatures beneath, which serve and obey us. But alas! our Ignorance is not here finished, for I know not whether I may better say, men are ignorant of all things in general, or know nothing in particular; for in truth, there is no Creature in the world, that we perfectly comprise and understand: I now leave the Heavens, the Stars, the Planets, the Birds of the air, the Fishes of the Sea, the Beasts of the Land, and will take one of the least creatures which creepeth upon the earth, and thereby convince our Ignorance, 
Basil epi. 168. quae est ad Eunomium.  as Saint Basil convinced the boasting presumption of Eunomius the heretic, who vaunted that he knew GOD and his Divinity, and that shall be, a very Emmet, so little in body, so base in substance, of so small account, yet I say, that no man, how learned soever, can satisfy those demands which may be propounded about this contemptible beast.  
1 Whether it breatheth or no.  
2 If those little corpse be upheld with bones.  
3 If those small members be linked together with sinews, or chained with strings.  
4 If those sinews be fortified with muscles.  
5 Whether down the back Nature extendeth a chain, pliable to turning or bending.  
6 Whether thorough the chain passeth a white marrow.  
7 Whether the sinewy membranes impel the rest of the body.  
8 Whether it hath a Lyver, or no.  
9 Whether in the Lyver a receptacle of Choler.  
10 Whether a heart.  
11 Whether kidneys.  
12 Whether arteries.  
13 Whether veins.  
14 Whether skins.  
15 Whether a traverse or midriff.  
16 Whether is it bare or hairy.  
17 Whether single or cloven footed.  
18 How long liveth it.  
19 After what manner is it begotten.  
20 How long dwelleth it in the womb.  
21 Why do not all creep, but some fly, & some creep.  
All these questions are moved by S. Basil, and he concludeth thus, Si minutissimae formicae naturam nondum cognitione apprehendisti, quomodo incomprehensibilis dei vim te imaginari gloriaris? If thou canst not comprise by knowledge the nature of the least Emmet, how gloriest thou to imagine the power of the incomprehensible God? These questions only concern the body of an Emet, but many more might be demanded, and ten times more, about the sensitive soul, yet these suffice to declare the weakness of our Understanding. Yea, I will add an other consideration, of no smaller importance than the rest, that although as we see by daily experience, many men study night and day, poring forth their brains and eyes upon their books, yet I am of opinion, that if we could see the opinions, even of the best learned man in the world, with as plain perspicuity, as we discern black from white, we should find in his understanding more errors than truths, more falsities than verities, more ignorances then sciences, more that ought to be forgotten, then is well learned; finally more chaff than corn, (I always except matters of faith and religion.) The reasons which induce me to this opinion, are these. First, I see such varieties of opinions even among the profoundest wits, that ever the world yielded, (whose writings are extant) about the self something, one contradicting and condemning another, both bringing strong reasons to confirm their opinions; one or both must needs err, the Truth being one and indivisible. Secondly, I perceyve the same profound Scholars, at one time defending with many reasons one opinion, and after, with as great boldness impugning the same, retracting the former. And why, I pray you, may they not err the second time, as well as the first? for I warrant you, they thought they had as great evidence & assurance before, as they presently possess. And why may they not as well reclaim again, as they did before? You will say, secundae cogitationes be prudentiores, and wise men recall their former errors. And I pray you, are not tertiae and quartae prudentissimae? After a sleep upon the pillow, many correct their daily thoughts: doth not one day teach another? Wherefore I see no reason; why wise men may not, in their retractation as well err, as in their former assent. Thirdly, the Scriptures seem to insinuate little less, Cunctae res difficiles, non potest homo 
Eccles. 1.  eas explicare sermone. All things are difficult, neither can man declare them with speech: and after speaking of God he saith, mundum tradidit etc. he delivered the world 
Idem. cap. 3.  to their disputation, that man should not find out the work which God had wrought from the beginning to the end.   

VIII. Curiosity in knowing things not necessary.  
AN other general defect and imperfection proceeding from Nature corrupted, and tending to corruption, followeth all the Sons of Adam, and that is a certain natural curiosity, a diligent inquisition of other men's actions, and an extreme negligence in our own: moale-hilles in other men seem mountains, and craggy rocks in ourselves smooth rushes: other men's faults be before our eyes, but our own behind our backs. It is a world to see with what rigour and partiality men censure others actions, & with what smooth countenance they conceal their own defects. Let us not look any further but to David, who never was angry with himself for killing Urias, and abusing his wife; but straightways, after that Nathan had propounded 
2. Reg. 12.  the case in far inferior degree, of the taking of a sheep, he was presently moved with indignation, and condemned the offender to death: the reason why we judge more quickly other men's faults than our own, partly proceeds from self-love, which blindeth us in our own actions, partly, because we see other men's defects directly, and our own by a certain reflection; for, as no man knoweth exactly his own face, because he never see it, but by reflection from a glass, and other men's countenances he conceiveth most perfectly, because he vieweth them directly, and in themselves; even so, by a certain circle we wind about ourselves, whereas by a right line we pass into the corners of other men's souls, at least, by rash judgements and sinister suspicions. Galen to this purpose relateth Aesop, who 
Galen. de coganim. morb. ca 2.  said we had every one of us a wallet hanged upon our shoulders, the one half upon our breasts, the other half upon our backs: the former was full of other men's faults, which we continually beheld: the part behind was loaden with our offences, which we never regarded. And he saith, that Plato rendered a reason of this: for every man is blind towards that thing he loveth, and therefore one extremely loving himself, is most blind in censuring himself. Therefore I am of opinion in this point with Socrates, that as sober men ought 
Plutarch. in Moraribus.  especially to take heed of those dishes and cates which allure and provoke them to eating, although they be not hungry, and those drinckes which entice them to drink, howbeit they be not thirsty: so those shows, speeches, and companies principally aught to be avoided, which urge them to desire things impertinent, and to judge rashly without discretion; because, to examine, and to be inquisitive of our own faults can be never unprofitable, but to spy into other men's actions, rarely or never can be profitable, except it be superiors or persons in authority, Scrutemur, saith jeremy) vias nostras, 
Thren. 3. 40.  but he saith not, aliena●: Yea, Saint Paul forbiddeth, Tu quis es qui iudicas alienum s●rvum. 
Rom. 14. 4.   
This engrafted curiosity extendeth not only his briarie branches, wrapping them about other men's affairs, lives, and conversations, but also to those secrets, oracles, and mysteries, which far exceed men's capacities, or are so unprofitable, that the commodity men reap by them, will not countervail the labour and pain spent in procuring, effecting, or obtaining of them. Nihil (saith 
Chrysost. hom. 9 in 1. ad Thessa.  Saint Chrysost.) ita curiosum est & avidum ad rerum obscurarum & reconditarun cognitionem ut humana natura, Nothing is so curious and thirsty after knowledge of dark and obscure matters, as the nature of man. Hencefrom came those voices, Altiora te ne quaesieris, & fortiora 
Eccle. 3. 22.  te ne scrutatus fueris: sed quae praecepit tibi Deus illa cogita semper: & in pluribus operibus eius ne fueris curiosus, non est enim tibi necessarium ea quae abscondita sunt videre oculis tuis. In supervacuis rebus noli scrutari multipliciter & in pluribus operibus eius non eris curiosus. Things deeper than thee, inquire not after, and stronger than thee, search not; but think always upon those things which God hath commanded thee; and in many of his works be not curious, for it is not necessary for thee to see with thy eyes those things which be hid: in superfluous matters wade not too much, and in many of his works be not curious.  
And by a similitude Solomon declareth well this matter, 
Prov. 25. 27.  Sicut qui mel multum comedit non est ei bonum, sic qui scrutator est maiestatis, opprimetur à gloria: As it is not good for him that eateth much honey, so the searcher of majesty shall be oppressed with glory. Saint Paul perceiving this curiosity in his time, willed Timothy 
1. Tim. 1. 4.  to persuade men that they should not intend their minds to fables and endless genealogies. We have in these our miserable days, as curious a generation as ever was clasped under the cope of Heaven: for, what vain studies, exercise (for most part) our judiciary Astronomers, by calculating nativities, foretelling events, prescribing the limits of men's lives, foreshowing their perils and dangers; but mere cozenage, and vain curiosity? How many labour night and day, spend their times and live, in Alchemy, in searching forth that matchless stone which they never see, receiving no other lucre than a continual bait to feed curiosity? Who would not have registered him among curious fools, which laboured so many years to make a shirt of male with rings of wood, fit for no man's profit or good? Who will not admire our nice Dames of London, who must have Cherries at twenty shillings a pound, & Peascods at five shillings a peck, husks without pease, young Rabbits of a span, and Chickens of an inch: from whence proceedeth this gulling ambition? this spoiling of the crop? this devouring and gormandizing of the commonweal, but from a gluttonous curiosity? I leave off curious gardens, sundry fashions of apparel, glorious buildings, which all be offsprings of curious pride. And to conclude, I will say, that not only lust, but mere curiosity hath caused many men and women to lose their honesty.   

IX. Of vain discoursing.  
WIth an other imperfection men's souls are branded, and no man I will free from it; howbeit I think it concerneth especially the wisest. This defect is a certain vain and chimerizing discoursing, by which men build Castles in the air, and frame unto themselves mountains of gold. To this I reduce the vain conceits and opinions they feign of themselves, bordering near unto Idolatry, because few men there be which spend not much time, in admiring themselves, ever esteeming more than they deserve: and I know not how, ascribing such excellency, that they seem endued with some spark of Divinity; for who is he that will confess any man so complete as himself in every thing? which singularity argueth affectation of a petty deity.  
Besides, men consume very frivolously much time, study, and meditation, and for the most part, needless in their own designments, casting with themselves ways of preferments, profit, pleasure, credit, and reputation in offices, which (God knoweth) they are far off, yet they feed themselves with fancies. I omit what plodding use all appassionate persons, to bring to effect their inordinate affections, as revengers of injuries, ambitious, lascivious, envious men; for questionless they spend their best hours, and purest spirits, for the most part, in mere fantastical discoursing.  
Moreover, it is a wonder, to see what pains many men bestow, in confirming their preconceived errors. I know some Philosophers and Divines most obslinate in their opinions, and yet they study most earnestly to establish them, which in very deed, I see evidently to be false and erroneous; yet such a defect we carry with us, that errors once drunk up, are quickly converted into nature, and consequently sealed up with vicious habits.   

X. Of Distractions.  
AS the earth unmanured bringeth forth brambles and briers, with many stinking weeds; and manured, also springeth forth here and there darnel and cockle: even so our understanding, if it be ill guided, yieldeth, not only vain discourses, if it be ill guided, yieldeth, not only vain discourses, but also in the midst of most serious meditations, it blasteth forth many impertinent distractions: what exercise can be more holy than prayer? and where occur more impertinent thoughts, than in the heat of such an holy exercise? the which imperfection Saint Jerome feeling and 
Hieron. in dial go adversus Lu. ●serianos.  lamenting, said, Nunc creberrimè, etc. Now most often in my prayer I walk in galleries, now I reckon my gains, or withdrawn by some unclean thought, I do those things, which are shameful to be spoken. Abraham could not offer sacrifice unto God, but with one hand; he was constrained to ward his offering from the molestfull crows, which were about him, ready to carry it away.  
Alas! how often do the infernal kites seize upon our souls, and hinder the holy sacrifices of our prayers, by impertinent thoughts? In the depth of studies, how oft do we prove, that idle cogitations distract our minds, and enforce them to wander in foreign countries, in such sort, as although the body be consistent in one place, yet the soul runneth like a vagrant person, or rather, slieth from country to country, and almost in a moment saileth over the immensive Ocean Sea? whereupon ensueth, that the use of a man's soul lieth not in his own hands, because his actions be subject unto so many interruptions; which proceed, either from the malignity of the Devil; the vehemence of some passion; a strong imagination and deep impression; or an inconstant mind desirous of variety and alteration.  

The Defects and Imperfections of our Wills.  
NOt only the land, by the universal course of God, was plagued with sterility, and unprofitable offsprings, but also the Sea bordering upon the Land, with horrible tempests, mists, rocks, shelves, and other miserable dangers, whereupon poor Mariners miscarry: even so, not only our understanding, by that bitter Apple which edged all men's teeth, was distasted by ignorance, and infected with errors, but also, our wills were troubled with tempests of wicked inclinations, and shelves of vicious perversity, whereupon souls perish, and fall into eternal calamity.   

Difficulty to do well.  
ONe huge rock I find in this vast Ocean of our boundless Will, common to all men, (and whereunto all others may be reduced) yet not in like degree; I mean an exceeding difficulty to do well: our understandings (I confess) must labour to find out the truth, but no labour to be compared with the labour to do good; few beasts you have which do themselves more ill than good, and as few men which do themselves not more ill than good. Were it not a miracle, to see a mighty huge stone ascend by itself above all the clouds, or the Sun descend to the earth? Yes doubtless: but why were this a miracle? Because a stone by nature is inclined to descend, and the Sun to roll about the world; therefore it were a wonder to see them move against their own inclinations. As great and as strange a marvel it might seem, to see our wills so prone to vice, to descend to the vain pleasures and delights of the flesh, because these motions are most opposite to their natural and principal inclination: for no wise man can be ignorant how the chiefest force of our will bendeth to follow the rule of reason, prosecute virtue and honesty, detest vice and iniquity: therefore to follow virtue is connatural, to affect vice a vicious miracle. Notwithstanding we daily try what difficulty we find in the narrow way to goodness, and what extreme facility in the broad way of wickedness: for one man that is virtuous, how many thousands are vicious? Whereupon cometh this notable excess? Of the extreme difficulty men find in doing well, which deterreth the most part of them from it: the roots of virtue, sayeth one, are bitter, and therefore delicate lips will not taste them: well-willers of virtue must resist flesh and blood, which worldlings so beastly pamper, and cruelly cherish. Yet I know some would desire to understand from whence proceedeth this wonderful difficulty ● we all prove to do well, the reason which may move a man to doubt, questionless, deserveth good consideration; for if we that be Christians well expend what means we have to do good, and what to do ill, we shall find that these be fewer in number, and weaker in force and efficacy, than the other, the which I thought good briefly to set down, partly to declare our wilfulness and perversity, who having so many means, will not use them: partly to remember the Reader, that hereafter he may benefit himself of them, and be confounded for his misdemeanour in them.  
We are moved to do well; First by the law of nature imprinted in our hearts like a lantern, or a torch, to direct us in the darkness of the continual night of this miserable life.  
2 Our will principally bendeth to follow this law, as our hands and feet the direction of our eyes.  
3 The remorse of conscience, which in the very act of sinning, keepeth the watch of our souls, adviseth us by barking, that enemies are present: and after that we have sinned, how the wall is broken, and consequently opened to the invasion of infernal thieves.  
4 The infamy and discredit which waiteth upon vice, for such aversion all men by nature carry in their minds from sin, that no man can esteem in his heart, or love truly any vicious man.  
5 We see in every good commonweal virtuous men preferred, esteemed, and accounted of, and therefore honos alit arts, why then should not credit and reputation nourish and augment virtue?  
6 By natural discourse a man may well perceive how the oil of his carnal Lamp daily consumeth, the natural heat vanisheth, death approacheth, and therefore why should not the vicinity and certainty of death cause him to lead a virtuous life?  
7 All states and kingdoms, ordered by laws, and governed by reason, appoint punishments for vices, according to their qualities; for what mean prisons, stocks, fetters, gives, racks, gallows, hatchets, but to warn us that their creation was for sins extirpation?  
8 Nothing can have more force to allure a man to do well, than the peace and tranquillity of the mind, a quiet and serene conscience, is judge convivium, this we gain by virtue, this we lose by vice.  
9 The Infidels, brought up in the misty fogs of infidelity, conceived a terror of their god's judgement, thinking them ready to punish their sins, and condemn their offences; which fear even nature teacheth us when we offend, that God being most just, will not permit unpunished injustice.  
10 And did not the same Infidels expect Elysian fields as Paradises of pleasure, wherein was laid, by the author of nature, a reward for those who had not abused nature? but grace being above nature, affordeth us more motives to virtue, more helps to fly vice.  
11 What adamant heart can be so hardened with vice, that the blood of Christ shall not break? why was he drawn up the Cross, but to draw us to virtue from vice? Why cried he, long a salute mea verba delictorum, but because he crucified indeed our sins in his own body, which in vain before without virtue of this passion had been washed with blood of goats and calves?  
12 The Sacraments of his Church, those fountains of grace, those conduits of his passion, those heavenly medicines, those links and chains wherewith the members of Christ's church are united in religion; for what other effect were they instituted, than for the watering of our souls to the increase of virtue, and the whole supplanting of vice?  
13 The internal gifts of God, the armour of Faith, Hope, and Charity, with graces and favours, wherewith the holy ghost endueth our souls, fortify us against vice, and habilitate exceedingly to virtue.  
14 The manifold inspirations of God, the illustrations of his holy Angels, which stand in battle array to defend us, tend to no other end, than to persuade us to virtue, and dissuade us from vice.  
15 Why hath God provided so many teachers and preachers, but to be so many watchmen over the house of Israel, to cry like Trumpets, and blaze the sins of the house of jacob, lest by wallowing in wickedness they reclaim no more to goodness.  
16 The holy scriptures were written with the finger of God, as Registers of his eternal will, letters of love to invite us to virtue, and threatenings of ire, to dehort us from vice, therein, by more sure authority he delivereth unto us whatsoever he had written more obscurely in the book of Nature, persuading, directing, counseling to goodness, piety, and religion: dissuading, diverting, threatening, and terrifying from vice, impiety, and ungodliness: wherefore one of the chiefest scopes, for which the sacred Volume was sent from Heaven, was to make us decline from evil, and do good, die to old Adam, and live with Christ, crucify sin, and follow virtue.  
17 God, by his infinite wisdom and charity, gave us, not only teachers in words, but also actors in deeds; not only them who filled our ears with godly persuasions, but also them which represented virtue most lively to our eyes, with good examples and holy actions: so were the lives of Saints in all ages as so many 
Orig. libr. 1. in job & Grego. ibid.  Stars, which gave us light how to walk in the darkness of this life; and so many spurs to prick us forward, that we should not linger in so divine a voyage. Their fervent charity reprehendeth our tepidity, their diligence in God's service, our negligence, their watching and praying, our sluggishness and indevotion.  
18 If there were a King's son of most beautiful countenance and divine aspect resembling his father as much as a son could do: who would not judge this Prince both inhuman and mad, if he would cut, mangle, and disgrace his own face with grisly wounds, and ugly forms? What an injury were this against his father, what an offence against all his parents? Even such cruelty use sinners to themselves and God: because by sinning they deface and mangle that lively Image of the holy Trinity, drawn by God himself in the substance of their souls, and so are injurious, not only to themselves, but also to their God, their Father, their King, the holy and individed Trinity.  
19 Who spoileth God's Temple, is accounted irreligious, who profaneth his Church, is thought sacrilegious: and who but he which hath lost all sparks of piety dare adventure to attempt so heinous a crime? Yet Vicious adventure and perform it, they profane their bodies and souls, they fell them to lust and wickedness, they expel the holy ghost from them, they put him forth of his just possession which he holdeth over them as a Father by virtue, and after by wicked deserts enforce him as a judge, like prisoners, to jail them by justice.  
20 Those which live in Christ's true Catholic Church by communion of Saints, enjoy an other mean to do well, and that is, the common prayers and supplications of the faithful, which beat continually at the gates of God's mercy, and doubtless return not void again; for many petitions God hardly can deny.  
21 A djoine hereunto the supernatural providence of God, which feedeth the foul of the air, and clotheth the lilies of the field, the which being so careful of unreasonable creatures, what shall we think he doth to the faithful? questionless, he neither will sleep nor slumber that watcheth the house of Israel, he will keep his servants as the apple of his eye, he will give them meat in due season, he will finally sustain their weakness, erect them if they fall, direct them if they err, secure them if they want, refresh them in the heats of concupiscences, mitigate the tempests of their temptations, moderate the waves of wicked occasions.  
22 The horrible pains of Hell thundered in holy Writ, the weeping and gnashing of teeth, the worm which will gnaw perpetually upon the very heart of the soul, with remorse of conscience: those inextinguible flames of infernal furnaces, that cruel hatred of grisly Devils and ugly hellhounds: those remediless pains and torments without hope of recovery, remission, or mitigation; and above all, that privation and loss of the sight of the face of God, prepared for all those that would serve him in sanctity and holiness of life: all these evils, certainly to be incurred, I think, might move sufficiently any wise man to look about him, what he doth, whether he goeth, what reckoning he must make, for these be not May-games, or Esop's fables, but sacred truths registered in Scriptures, daily put in execution, hourly felt, and of every wicked man to be proved.  
23 If God had only terrified us from sin with inexplicable pains, every discreet man might have had sufficient cause to abhor it: but beside, having invited us to virtue, by promising ineffable joys, who can now excuse us? what can we pretend? With reward he pricks us forward, with torments he draws us backward, he bridles our wantonness with one, and spurs on our slothfulness with the other.  
24 Virtue of itself, even naked, if neither reward had been promised, nor punishment threatened, might sufficiently have moved us to love her, and follow her, because she carrieth such a show of honesty, such internal beauty, such a grace and excellency, that her possession may be thought a sufficient remuneration.  
25 The horrible punishments mentioned in Scriptures inflicted for sin, even in this life (if we had grace) might enforce virtue upon us; for what cast Adam out of Paradise? Sin: what wounded him in nature, and spoiled him of grace? Sin: what drowned the world? Sin: what reigned fire and brimstone from heaven upon those infamous cities of Sodom and Gomorrha? Sin: many examples more I could bring out of the old Testament, as deaths of private men & Princes, submersions of armies, dispersions of Countries, mortality of thousands, famine, wars, & plagues, captivities, and imprisonments, for no other cause inflicted than wickedness and sin: but let us only fix our eyes upon the Son of God nailed upon the Cross, and we shall see how sin mangled his body and afflicted his soul; those nails, tears, streams of blood, exclamations, gall, and pains are monuments of sin, and memories of our perverse and wicked life.  
26 Above all other evils incident to an evil life, of great force to restrain our untoward wills from vice, is the extreme injury we offer to God by sin, transgressing his law, perverting his order, disposition, and providence, injuring his infinite goodness, which ought of all creatures to be beloved, despising his Majesty, to which, as to their last end, all men ought to direct their actions. And finally, showing ourselves ungrateful to his love, the which ought to be affected with all submission, obedience, and gratitude.  
27 What can more deter men from wickedness then their own private loss, or move them more to virtue then their own present gain? By vice our souls are spoiled of their riches, their most precious robes, & heavenly attire; by virtue they are appareled: by vice they are wounded even to the centre; by virtue they are healed: by vice they are impoverished; by virtue enriched: by vice they are defiled; by virtue cleansed: by vice they become dens of devils; by virtue seats of Angels.  
28 But some will object, the soul is spiritual, and her losses cannot so well be perceived, but if we had some palpable & sensible motives to draw us from vice to virtue, than the case would be altered. But sensible reasons want not, and no day or hour passeth wherein appeareth not some silent sermon or real persuasion, to avoid sin, and follow goodness. Do we not see daily men die? is not death of the body caused by the death of the soul? is it not an effect of Adam's original disobedience? Whencefrom proceed so many diseases, plagues, and pestilences, that physicians brains are troubled to know their number, for the multitude, or reduce them to method, they are so disordered. But say, what brought first hunger and thirst, sweat and labour, toiling and moiling into this world, but our forefather's gluttony? What made so many poor men, such a number of beggars, but Adam's original theft? what causeth our days to be so short, that many drop away in the very prime of their years? few come to the time their complexion requireth; the strongest scarce arriveth to a hundred years, but our progenitors inordinate appetite of Divinity, and consequently of eternity? finally, the terror of death ever imminent, the daily crosses in common conversation, the distonsorted courses of the heavens, with their influences, tempests and storms, contrary to the generation and increase of fruits of the earth, the disobedience of beasts, the cruelty of men, the craft and cozenage we daily prove, all descend from sin, and well admonish us, that if one sin deserved so many, so long, so great punishments, what will a multitude?  
29 Wicked men do not only by offences injury the majesty of God, but also they abuse his gifts and benefits, not only, like Scorpions they kill their mother before they be hatched, but also, like ungrateful debtors, oppugn their creditors with their own goods: for the ungodly use that will God gave them to love him, to hate him; that wit he bestowed upon them to meditate upon his law & commandments, they pervert, by thinking how to transgress them: that heart he imparted to affect their neighbours in pure love and charity, that they defile with malice and dishonesty; that tongue he lent them to utter his praises, that they blot with oaths and blasphemies; those hands he framed as flowing conduits to feed the poor, those are wholly employed to avarice and rapine; and to be brief, that universal body and soul which ought to have been kept in holiness and sanctification, they abuse to offend God with sin and prevarication.  
30 To conclude, all creatures which God created for the use of man, and as servants, attended upon him as their master; all they (I say) exclaim against a vicious life, they are so many trumpets, which cease not to sound the abuses we offer them, by offending their Maker: the Sun giveth the light to work works of light, & not to live in the shadow of darkness: the Moon with her fecundity inviteth thee to bring forth fruits of justice, and not iniquity: the harmony of the heavens, the multitude, variety, brightness of so many Stars and Planets, exhort thee to subordinate thy soul to God, to adorn thy mind with virtue, to give good example, and shine unto men by a godly conversation: 
Isay 24. 23.  for otherwise, in sign of revenge, before the day of 
Mat. 24. 29.  judgement, they will withdraw their beams, fall from heaven upon thee, show themselves as disdainful to behold 
Mark. 13. 24.  sinners, as sinners were careless to enjoy the benefit of their influences and operations, to the glory 
Wisd 5 18. Armabit creaturam ad ultionem immicorum.  of God and the profit of their souls.  
By this it appeareth, what abundance of means God hath imparted to us, to the intent all difficulties in the way of Virtue, might with facility be overcommed: some be internal, some external, some of grace, some of nature, some instructing the understanding, some inclining the affection, some continual, some by turns: and to be brief, no man can say that God hath been a niggard with him, but that he hath been unanswerable to God.   

The Impediments to Virtue.  
MAn in this world standeth in the midst betwixt God and the devil, both pretend to win him to their Kingdoms; God to eternal pleasure, Satan to eternal pain; God by his power could quickly deliver him, and break all the bonds and chains wherewith the devil did or doth bind him: but his wisdom thought good, not to admit any man of wisdom and discretion to his friendship without his own● consent; for as Saint Augustine saith, Qui creavit te sine te, non iustificabit te sine te: He that created thee without thee (that is, thy consent or cooperation) will not justify thee without thee (that is, thy consent & cooperation.) Wherefore we see Christ in Scriptures so often asked them whom he cured in body, and healed in soul, Vis 
john 5. 6. Mat. 9 2. & 22. Luke 8. 50.  sanus esse? confide, crede, and such like speeches, which signify, that he would not cure any, but them, who were willing: wherefore God would not oppose all his power and might against our ghostly enemies, but only such sweet means as might procure our assent, and yet able to overthrow all the troops of our adversaries: he beats at the doors, and we with his grace must open 
Apoc. 3. 20. Mat. 23. 37.  them, he calleth us, as the hen her chickens, and we must run to shroud under his wings; he inviteth us to 
Mat. 11. 29.  bear his yoke, and we must carry it with him: finally, so many persuasions, exhortations, promises, and prayers pregnantly prove, that not we, nor God alone must overcome the forces of our enemies, but we with God, and God with us. Therefore, since we have declared what means God hath granted us to fight with the devil, let us see now what stratagems and deceits the devil useth to daw us from God to a perpetual thraldom and slavery in Hell.  

The first Impediment is, the Suggestions of the Devil.  
FIrst, the Devil immediately by his suggestions allureth us to sin, he being a spirit, by secret means can enter into the former part of our brain, and there chop and change our imaginations: he can represent pleasures with a goodly show; he can propound Virtue as a most bitter object; he can make us slothful in the way of God; by stirring the humours, altering the blood, which cause a tedious loathsomeness in us. His craft is admirable, his malice extreme, his experience long, his forces mighty, his darts invisible, and indeed, so strong, that if we were not assisted by God's providence, & the ministry of his holy Angels, it were not possible to resist him. Yet I doubt not, but God's good Angels help us more to Virtue, than the wicked spirits incite us to vice; because questionless, the charity of them, exceedeth the malice of these: whereunto if we adjoin the providence of God, in restraining and limitating the devils power, as we see he restrained him in tempting of job, there can be no comparison.   

The second Impediment is, ill Education.  
Wear also haled to vice, by ill Education, for as I have said before, all our youthtime we give ourselves to pastime and play, living like so many bruit beasts, engendering, and daily increasing a number of vicious habits, which, ere we come to the use of discretion, are made so connatural, that vice seemeth more conformable to Nature than Virtue. Yet the principal inclination of our Souls to Reason, so many Virtues given us of God, so many gifts bestowed upon us by the holy Ghost, much more forcibly move us to goodness, than vicious habits to wickedness: for Virtue inclineth more vehemently than Vice, and Grace overcometh Nature.   

The third Impediment is, wicked Conversation.  
ILl Examples, and ungodly Conversation, imprinted in tender years, and weak souls, take such root, that hardly after they can be supplanted: this we see by experience, that as those speak, with whom children converse, purely, or barbarously, Latin, Greek, or English, so children learn: even in like manner, as those live, youth live, and frame their manners; according to their conditions. Wherefore holy Writ hath instructed us, that as a man useth wise or foolish company, so he shall become himself foolish or wise. Qui cum sapientibus 
Proverb. 13.  graditur sapiens erit, amicus stultorum similis efficietur. A man therefore being brought up among wicked men, for most part accommodateth himself to their humours; the reason is, not only, because, as men persuade by words, so they do much more by deeds, every action being a silent persuasion (our eyes perceiving their objects more certainly than our ears) but also for that many examples, I know not how, come at length, to breed such impressions in men, that even vices seem Virtues. Let us not seek very far for trial, but even at home; sometimes I have seen Tarleton play the Clown, and use no other breeches, than such sl●●s or slivings, as now many Gentlemen wear▪ they are almost capable of a bushel of wheat, and if they be of sackcloth, they would serve to carry Mawlt to the Mill. This absurd, clownish and unseemly attire, only by custowe now, is not misliked, but rather approved. The like I might say of long steepled hats; of going naked in Baths and washing places, yea in every place, as in the Indias; because the use of many seemeth to take away all abuse.  
Now therefore to our purpose, since most men are vicious, and few men virtuous, by evil examples we are vehemently enticed to vice and wickedness. Nevertheless we may oppose many good men with who we live: the examples of Christ, and his Apostles daily preached and teached, cannot but countervayle the examples of men, either void of reason, or religion; for who is he, but either an Atheist or a fool, which will imitate an others vices contrary to law, conscience and reason, only because he seethe many do so? Who will not condemn him as an Idiot, who said, he would err with many for company? Who would not judge him an Atheist, who vainly vaunted he would go to Hell with so many Gallants, rather than to Heaven with poor Fishers: these reasons are as void of wit, as destitute of piety.   

The fourth Impediment is, corrupted Books.  
THe world leadeth us to sin, not only, by training us up viciously, and enticing us by 〈◊〉 examples, but also, by suggesting unto us ●any occasions of ill, by obscenous and naughty Books, as light and wanton Poets, as Machivellian policies, the Art of conjuring, and such other dregs of men's wits, and offsprings ungodly affections: to these if you adjoin many shows, stage-plays, and such impure exercises, which tend to the manifest overthrow of tender Souls, you shall have a troop of soldiers, or rather robbers, serving the world, to win a Kingdom.  
Indeed I must confess, that these books and exercises corrupt extremely all good manners, and with a silent persuasion insinuate their matter unto the chief affection and highest part of the Soul, and in all good Commonweals, are either wholly prohibited, or so circumcised, that no such hurt followeth, as some by stealth purchase, and by a wilful theft rob their own souls of grace and goodness: yet against these Pamphlets, I oppose thousands of spiritual Volumes, the holy Scriptures, sermons, exhortations, homilies, meditations, prayerbooks, which surpass the other in number, in efficacy, in learning, and therefore those ought not to be compared with these.   

The fift Impediment is, of Passions.  
THe flesh molesteth us in the service of God, with an army of unruly Passions, for the most part, withdrawing from goodness, and haling to illness, they toss and turmoil our miserable souls, as tempests & waves the Ocean sea, the which never standeth quiet, but ey 〈◊〉 in ebbing or flowing, either winds do buzz about it, or raynes alter it, or earthquakes shake it, or 〈◊〉 tyrannize over it: even so our souls are puffed up with self-love; shaken with fear, now they be flowing with concupiscences and desires, and presently ebbing with desperation and sadness: joy altereth the mind, and ire tyrannizeth and consumeth both body and mind.  
Against the garboil of these tumultuous Passions, I oppose the barking, biting and gnawing of a wounded conscience, which waiteth continually upon inordinate Passions: I oppose the law of Nature, the brevity of all pleasures; for no Passion can long content the mind, but even a gust of pleasure gulleth the soul, and so cloyeth it, that the very dainties seem loathsome: Nam ab assuetis non fit Passio: If hereunto you add so many diseases, so many disgraces, such infamy, which commonly accompany exorbitant Passions. You shall find that they have no such efficacy to pervert us, as the other to convert us.   

The sixth Impediment is, of Inconstancy.  
MOst men feel in themselves a certain Inconstancy, whereby they become wonderful various, and fickle in their own estates, exercises and manner of living: for if we discourse universally about the nature of man, we shall find him continually, as it were in a circle, that is, winding about pleasures, or flying pains, and after a small while returning to them again. For example, who live in Cities, desire to enjoy a while the Country, and those that possess the free air of the Country, wish the sights of Cities; and both, after a while, loath that they most desired, and would return to their former estates: and then, after awearied of them, they renew their desires, and effectuate their purposes; the self same we prove in senses, we see green fields, beautiful palaces, pleasant gardens. But not long time this object will content us: shortly after, the eyes being satiated, than our ears must be delighted with Music: and after they are loathed, then must we have varieties of meats; the stomach being filled, then followeth rest, than sight, talk, or such like exercises as we used before: and after this manner we roll up and down God's creatures, ever thirsting, and never content: even so in the servyce of God; for our souls herein consort with our bodies, which are feeble, and tender in youth, but grow till they come to a certain perfection, the which once obtained, they return again to their former imperfections, ever fading, consuming and resolving, till they come to their final decreement, and as great weakness as they begun withal. In spirit and mind many begin to do well, but after a while they loath the very Manna of Heaven; the best and most precious liquors of Paradise savour not to them, they seem tainted, they begin in spirit, and finish in flesh, they follow God, but after a while they sigh for onions of Egypt. And I needs must say, that this inconstancy hath caused many souls miscarry, and those which seemed to have entered the gates of Paradise, fell most miserably into the dungeon of Hell.  
This inconstancy reigneth not only over the soul, 
A certain contrariety in the soul hindereth men from goodness.  at diverse times, as now the Sea ebbeth, now floweth, now is tempestuous, now calmed, but at the self same time, it will, and will not, loveth and hateth, affecteth God and his enemies, the flesh and the world; not unlike to two contrary winds, which at the self same time toss the clouds, one beneath, an other above, one into the East, the other into the West, the which contention Saint Paul felt well, when he said, Sentio aliam legem in membris meis repugnantem legi mentis meae: and 
Aug. lib. 8. confess. cap. 10.  S. Augustine in resolving himself to serve God, said, Nec planè volebam, nec plenè nolebam, ideo mecum contendebam: but as he had pronounced before, Ego eram qui volebam, ego qui nolebam: for indeed the lower part of the soul draweth the will one way, and reason haileth another, so that in the self same will there is a double motion, the one to virtue, the other to vice, even as the Philosophers say, the lower heavens are moved from West to East by their proper motions, and from East to West by the force of the first moved or highest heaven.  
But against this Inconstancy, I can oppose many means to goodness, of greater force and efficacy, the which can more constantly further us to goodness, than inconstancy can incite us to illness: have we not registered in holy Writ, and sounding always in our ears, the inexplicable joys of Heaven promised to Virtue, and the terrible pains of Hell threatened to vice? Will not the fear of God's judgement, which hourly we attend, enforce us to watch and pray, lest we be taken at unawares? May not the incertainty of our deaths, move us to a constancy in life? Will not so many warnings of death, judgement, hell, heaven, so often inculcated, sufficiently stir us up to stand upon our ward? Cannot so many stays of grace uphold and stay the inconstancy of Nature? How many are withholden from wickedness, only thorough terror of temporal punishment, and shall not so many terrors countervail a fickle and inconstant inclination? Where lieth the anchor of Hope, and the unmooveable grounds of Faith and charity?   

The seventh Impediment is, discontentment of our own Estate.  
AN other Impediment I think most men feel at one time or other, which hindereth not a little the the progress of Virtue; and it is, that none can be contented with their own estates: we perceive not only a war or battle in our minds, but also a certain discontentment in ourselves, whereupon broke forth those saying, Nemo sort sua contentus, laudet diversa sequentes: we may be well compared to certain sick men, who would ever be changing their beds, yet they never find rest, for that the cause of their grief lieth not in the beds, but in their bodies: the reason why men live so discontented with their own estates, proceedeth from many crosses, which every state, condition, exercise, or office carrieth with it; beside, the often exercising of one thing engendereth fatiety, and therefore always Nature affecteth variety. Against this tediousness and loathing life, many great helps I can object; for, those which attend indeed to serve God, find a certain secret Manna, a Paradise of consolations, which will easily mitigate the crosses and discontentments ministered by a nature ill inclined: for as God permitteth no evil to escape unpunished, so he letteth pass no good unrewarded; and although this reward shall be reaped in the harvest of eternal life, yet with a quiet conscience, the tranquillity of mind, an internal peace and consolation in heavenly affairs, he fully in this life recompenseth all disasters and calamities which occur. Cucurri vianis 
Psal. 118. 32.  mandatorum tuorum (said one) dum dilatasti cor meum: and as he that guideth by his providence the stern of men's souls, permitteth them not to be moiled with temptations above the forces and abilities wherewith they are endued, so likewise, he will not see them so dejected with crosses, that he will not erect them with consolations: so said he, which well had tried the passions of the cross, that, Sicut abundant passiones Christi in nobis, ita & per Christum abundat consolatio nostra: for as the passions of Christ aboundeth in us, even so by Christ aboundeth 
2. Cor. 1. 5. judit. 8. 20. Psal. 93. 19 2. Cor. 7. Heb. 12. 5.  our comfort; many more sweet sentences to this effect may be read in holy scriptures, all able to incite a well willing heart, to take a good courage in the way of virtue and good life. And then if a man cast his eyes up to heaven and consider the eternity of pleasures, laid up for a moment of pain; if he weigh that the Sun setteth the same hour to him that passed the day in good works, in fasting and praying, & to him which viciously spent it in feasting & playing, he shall perceive how vain fancies, and voluble crosses vanish away as little clouds before the Northern winds. Much matter might here be delivered concerning this point, but I cannot follow it, because my purpose is, only cursorily to handle the heads of difficulties to goodness, & of favours to avoid ill.   

The eight Impediment is, That pleasures are present, which the flesh and world yield: The joys of heaven absent and future.  
THough men and beasts in many things differ, yet in one we may most plainly distinguish them, for beasts regard only or principally what concerneth the present time, but men forecast for future events; they know the means & the end, & therefore comparing these 2. together, they provide present means for a future intent. But I know not how original sin hath enchanted our hearts, that present pleasure, all men for most part prefer before all future joy: for since we see not by faith present, those things we expect by hope, or abhor by fear, in the mean time the devil, flesh, and world, delighting us with a present bait, we neglect that we should expect, and accept that we find next: not unlike to children, who prefer an apple before their inheritance. And without all doubt, I take this to be a most vehement occasion of vice, and such an one as hath cast many poor souls to hell; for worldlings will be of the surer side, they think it better to possess one bird in their hands, then expect two in the fields, to be sure of a present commodity, then to be uncertain of a future gain: for as I remember, one ask of a godly man, (who lived in great austerity, poverty, mortification, flying from present pleasures, with as great zeal as commonly others seek after them) what if there were no heaven nor Paradise wherewith those pains should be recompensed? The goodman answered; but what if there be a hell, wherewith thy vices shall be punished? An other I know, gave a more direct answer, for, he being demanded the like question, said, that if he were never to receyve any reward for those small labours and duties he did to the glory of God, that he thought himself sufficiently recompensed in this life, with the quietness of a good conscience, with the honesty of a virtuous life, that he could do something for the love of Christ, who had suffered so much to save him: that by his works the Majesty of God was glorified, 
john 15. 8.  to whom all homage was due, all service inferior. And truly so it is, that if foolish and besotted worldlings could well discern how all these present pleasures vanish like smoke, because they are not durable, waver like wind, because they are inconstant, cloy quickly like rank meat, because they be imperfect, sting like scorpions, because they be poisoned, and to be brief, they quench no more the thirst, than salt water, which ever leaveth the stomach dry. Contrariwise, those spiritual comforts God bestoweth upon good souls here, are so divine, so pure, so excellent, so content, and enhance the Soul, that they exceed all delights, that either Nature affordeth, or Art inventeth: and well they know this truth that have proved it; such as mortify sensuality, casting from them the dregs of Egypt, those, I say, shall not only enjoy the land flowing with milk and honey in Paradise, but a heavenly repast, the food of Angels even in the desert of this world, which, Nemo novit, nisi qui accipit, and therefore they deserve to be condemned of extreme folly, who prefer a present toy before eternal joy.   

The ninth Impediment is, Negligence in serving God, or seeking means how to come to our end.  
WE see by daily experience, that all natural creatures contend extremely to win their ends, and to procure the means they conceyve necessary for their good, their preservation, propagation or end. With what force falleth a stone down to come to his centre? With what vehemence issueth forth the fire included in a Cannon, to ascend to the Moon? With what continual and restless course runneth a river to the Ocean Sea? With what care, industry, and diligence do Birds make their nests, Emmets hoard up their provision, all beasts provide their food: but now let us make a reflection upon our own actions, and we shall find as extreme negligence in ourselves, as we perceyve diligence in them: What is our end? God: What the means? to fly vice and follow Virtue: Let us now discourse over the world, and try what extreme diligence men use in procuring riches, honours, pleasures, and what exorbitant negligence in providing virtues and good works to come to God? for those, the Merchants scour the Seas, despise tempests, account not rocks, weigh not sands, contemn all perils, which either sailing by sea, or traveling by land, ordinarily do carry with them: for these the soldiers run upon pikes, fear no famine, watch and ward, live always in danger, and never in perfect rest: for these, the very base peasants & rustics labour in Winter, and moil in Summer, singing in hoary frosts and snows, jesting at parching suns and scorching heats: pass on further, & walk about the streets of great Cities, Exchanges, Palaces of Noble men, Courts of Princes, & mark how Virtue suffereth exile, and vice is friendly entertained, shall you peradventure in all these places hear one talk of mortification, of means to avoid ambition, to cross inordinate appetites, to suppress the lusts of the flesh, to know what may help them to pray, or what commonly hindereth those that would pray● Alas! this language is not understood, all tongues are silent, they know not what it meaneth, and therefore are loath to hear of it. A thing so necessary, so daily and hourly to be practised, is never thought upon: what negligence can be greater● are men so blinded they see not; or if they see, what makes them so careless? But against this poison we have diverse remedies, and cures of Virtue to heal these sores of vice: for consider but with thyself; that notable Parable and palpable reason taught us by Christ, & proved by continual experience, when the rich man hath massed up his treasures with hook and crook, moiling and toiling, when he thinketh to enjoy, lo, a voice cometh, Stulte, hac nocte animam repetunt à te, quae autem parasti cuius erunt? And doubtless, if men were wise (me thinks) the continual fear of death might enforce them to contemn such a base and drudging life.  
Besides, if all creatures by the instinct of Nature, endeavour so much to win their full and complete perfection, why should we degenerate so far from our own nature, as not to accomplish that we lack: mark but the seed cast into the ground, how it laboureth to die, after to live; how it fixeth his roots, pierceth the ground to enjoy the Sun and air, erecteth the stem, springs the husks, issues the ear, yields with the wind, and never giveth over till the corn be brought to a full maturity: we see how new wines, beer, and all liquors work, by boiling the rawer parts, expelling the dregs, reducing themselves to a due temper, proportionated mixture and perfection: if these insensible creatures, so industriously labour to come to their end, shall not we endeavour to achieve our end and felicity? If they, according to their small ability employ their natural talentes, why should not we, endued with so many graces, procure our own good and perfection? Why standeth God at 
Apoc. 3. 20.  the doors of our heart beating, but to enter in? Why do Gods servants cry out upon our negligence, but 
jere. 25. 34.  to bring us to diligence? Why doth God punish many in the prime of their years, in the fat of their fortune, in the glory of their prosperity, but to advertise us by their examples of the inconstancy of this world, and that we might learn to be wise by their losses, to be vigilant and careful by their carelessness?  
Some more Impediments I could deliver, as the many occasions offered daily to do ill, the great readiness of matter and favourers thereof, the insatiable desire possesseth our hearts of inordinate pleasures, the admirable diligence in procuring temporal treasures, the extreme delight all men conceyve in their own actions, the great account and estimation they do make of them: how soon they despise or abase the enterprises of others, how perverse and obstinate they live in their own opinions. I could (I say) make long discourses upon these particular objects, but that they may all be reduced to self-love, inordinate Passions, the world and the devil, of which we have entreated largely before: only I will here adjoin the reason and cause of all this Treatise, why, we having so many means, so forcible, so divine, 
Mat. 7. 15. & 20. 16. 1. Pet. 4. 18.  so continual, so supernatural, to serve God, to follow Virtue, to fly sin; and scarce half so many impediments leading us to vice and ungodliness: yet for one that doth well, thousands do ill, and for one that goes to Heaven, almost a million goes to hell: and that the difficulty may seem more apparent, add another consideration: questionless, all universal effects proceed from universal causes, as we see all men die; therefore we gather, that all have a Nature corruptible, all men are subject to Passions, preventing and dissenting from reason, therefore we infer, that Nature is corrupted: even so, since most men do ill, and few good, and after this tenor in all Countries and Nations, therefore we must find out some general cause.  
Some will say that this proceedeth from original sin, whereby our nature remained corrupted, and therefore prone to evil, slow to good; this reason indeed toucheth some remote cause, but yet it doth not fully satisfy: first, because we have set down all the internal effects, and impious offsprings of original sin, and yet they can not amount or countervail the number of those helps we have to do good. Besides, it ought to be declared, how original sin hath so infected nature, that it is so feeble to virtue, and so strong to vice; for all the wounds which internally move us to sin, reside either in the wit, will, or sensitive appetite, the which we have conferred with those stays, both God and good nature hath bestowed upon us to do well. Furthermore, by the passion of Christ his merits & grace, original sin is forgiven us, who by baptism have put 
Gala. 3. 27. Ephes. 5. 6. Tit. 3. 5. Eze 33. 12. joel. 2. 25. Ephes. ●. 5. Eze. 36. 26. Psal. 33. 8. Psal. 90. 13.  on Christ, he hath restored unto us his former favours, adopted us for children, changed hearts of stone, into hearts of flesh, fortified our souls against vice, enabled our faculties against sin, protected and guarded us about with Angels for our defence against Satan, that our feet should not be stayed in the way of virtue, by blocks & stones our ghostly enemies cast in the narrow way that leadeth to heaven, to hinder our voyage, or frustrate our designments.  
Therefore to conclude this matter, I resolve myself that we have more means to do good, than occasions to do ill; and them also of their nature to be more forcible and potent: nevertheless for four reasons, more men are wicked then virtuous: first, for lack of prudent meditations; secondly, for ill education; thirdly, for palpable & present delectation; lastly, for defect of due prefervation. I mean first, that men miscarry so often in this peregrination, for lack of good consideration, because most of those means God hath vouchsafed to bestow upon us, require a certain meditation and ponderation; for they be like hot coals, the which you may take in your hands, and presently cast away without burning, because all actions welnie require time or space for their operations, but if you hold them a while you shall feel their effects. So it falleth forth in the mysteries of our faith, he that meditateth, burneth, he that perfunctorily runneth over them, scarce feeleth their heat: In meditatione mea (saith David) exardescit ignis, in my 
Psal. 38. 3.  prayer, fire is kindled, because meditation bloweth the coals by consideration, whereunto followeth the flame of love and affection: for otherwise what profit can we take of the inconstancy of our lives, and certainty of our deaths, of the severe and infallible judgement of God, the inexplicable pains of hell, the ineffable joys of heaven, if we never consider them? What availeth us to have the scriptures, that God punished in this life so many with extraordinary deaths, that by sins we are spoiled of grace, wounded in nature, disenabled to goodness, & incited to illness, if we never ruminate them in our minds, or ponder them in our considerations? Questionless, it were to swallow meat without chewing, which rather endammageth health, then restoreth the lost forces. Wherefore I like well those wise & godly men which every day allot themselves a certain time, stinting their hours for meditation, propounding before the eyes of their consideration, now one mystery, now an other, now the passions of Christ, than the pangs of death, now the strict judgements and punishments of God, than the eternal delights laid up for us in his heavenly Paradise: these therefore like fruitful 
Psal. 1. ●.  trees planted by the river sides, render their fruits in due season, these arm themselves in the morning to resist all encounters which may occur the day time: these be those vigilant virgins which attend with their 
Matth. 25.  lamps lighted, the coming of their heavenly spouse: these be those careful householders, which prevent infernal 
Matth. 24. 43. Luk. 12. 39  thieves, lest they should rob their treasures: these be those which live ever in peace and tranquillity of 
Phil. 3. 20.  mind, who dwelling in earth, converse in heaven.  
The second reason and principal, is ill education, of the which we have spoken before, & yet I must say here with holy scripture, that as it is impossible for the Ethiopean to change his skin, so it is impossible for youth, 
jere. 13. 23.  brought up licentiously, to change their ill manners; for use breedeth facility, facility confirmeth nature, nature strongly inclined, can hardly be diverted from her common course, but followeth her vicious determination. It is a wonder to see how custom transporteth and changeth nature both in body and in soul, the which may well be proved by the young Maid the Queen of India sent to Alexander the great, the which being nourished from her youth with serpent's poison, had so changed her natural constitution, that if she had bitten any 
Aristot. ad Alexand. Vide Hieronimum Cagniolum de institutio principis § 7.  man, he presently died, as Aristotle affirmeth, that by experience he had proved, even so as serpent's poison had changed her body, so ill manners alter the soul, and as her teeth poisoned that they bitten, so wicked men those souls with whom they talk, Corrumpunt 
1. Cor. 15. 33.  bonos mores colloquia prava: and acuerunt linguas suas sicut serpents: nature therefore in tract of time 
Psal. 139. 4.  overrun with so many weeds of wickedness, abhorreth extremely to supplant them, loathing so long, molestfull, and continual labour, and therefore contenteth herself, rather to eat the black berries of briars, than the sweet cherries of virtue: for this cause those children have a double bond to their parents & schoolmasters, which distill even with milk into their mouths the sweet liquor of piety, virtue, and good manners. Qu● semel est imbuta recens serva●it ●dorem testa diu. 
●lacc●●.   

Of liquor first which earthen pot receives,  
The smell it doth retain for many days.   
Whereunto agreeth that vulgar axiom of Philosophers.  Omnis habitus est difficilè separabilis à subject. 
The third reason is, present delectation; for that we hope is future; that pleasure worldlings perceive, is present, sensible delectation feedeth the corporal substance of senses, and therefore we easily perceive it, but virtue affecteth the soul, not after so palpable and gross manner, & therefore they despise it: wherefore men's souls, by inveterated customs used to sensual and beastly delights, either not believing, or mistrusting, or rather doubting of spiritual joys, they neglect, and for the most part, care not for them, contenting themselves with their present estate, not looking any further: and so, as beasts they live, and as beasts they die, according to that saying, Home cum in honore esse●, non intellexit, 
Psal. 48. 13. & 21.  comparatus est iumentis insipientibus, & similis factus est illis, and so become, sicut equus & mulus, in quibus non est 
Psal. 31. 19  intellectus.  
Finally, the lack of preservation hindereth our spiritual profit, because I conceive our souls without prayer, meditation, the Sacraments of Christ's church, exercise of virtue, and works of piety, not unlike a dead body, which for lack of a living soul daily falleth away by putrefaction, loseth colour, temperature and all sweetness, and becometh ghastly, loathsome and stinking; even so, the soul without those balms God hath prepared as preservatives, it will be infected with vices, and stinking with sins: therefore those which neglect these benefits, are not unlike sick men, which know where medicines lie, but will not seek for them, or receive them.  
These four causes I take to be the principal enemies 
Math. 11. 3●.  of our spiritual life: howbeit I doubt not that Christ's yoke is sweet, and his burden easy, if men would consider the means, and accept those helps God hath bestowed upon them. But all means and helps which ordinarily we prove may be rejected by a wicked will, 
Prov. 1. 24. Isa. c. 5. & 62. 2. Matth. 23. 37.  and a hard indurated heart may resist the sweet calling of God, Quia vocavi & renuistis, extendi manum meam & non erat qui aspiceret.  
By these Scriptures and many more we may easily 
Acts 7. 51. Mat. 11. 21.  infer, that neither lack of means, nor lack of grace hindereth us from doing well, but our own perverse and wicked will: let us but run over two or three examples, and we shall even touch with our fingers the certainty of this verity.  
Consider but Adam's fall, how many means he had to do well, and yet how basely he fell, he first, by God's especial grace, was endued with so many internal gifts of virtues and knowledge, that easily he might have observed that commandment: the inferior parts were subordinate by original justice to the superior, so that passions could not assault him; he had all beasts, and the whole garden of Paradise, with all the herbs and trees at his pleasure, therefore the precept was not so rigorous; for what difficulty were it for a man to abstain from one tree, having the use of thousands? He knew most certainly, how by eating, into what a damnable estate he cast himself and all his posterity: wherefore the event might have taught him to prevent the cause: but above all, the perfect knowledge of the sin he committed against God, the extreme ingratitude, disloyalty and treachery, might have bridled his mouth from that poisoned Apple, which brought present death of the soul, and after a time, a certain death of the body. But all these helps countervailed not his negligence in consideration, and his ill will seduced with ambition.  
Let us take an other familiar example, which daily occurreth, more common than commendable: a woman married, which breaketh her fidelity promised to her husband, mark but what helps she hath to restrain her from this sin: I omit the Sacraments of Christ's Church, the threatenings of death, God's judgement and hell, the enormous offence she committeth against God, the abuse of his benefits, the breach of his law, the contempt of his grace, the remorse of conscience, the wounding of her soul, and spoiling of the same; all these, and many more common helps granted to all sinners, I will speak nothing of, albeit I think them sufficient to withhold any ingenious heart from prevarication, only let us weigh those particular means she hath to abstain and withdraw herself from this offence, as the great injury she offereth her husband, the breach of love between them, the infamy whereunto she for all her life shall be subject, the stain of her kindred and friends, for her fault redoundeth to their discredit, as her good to their reputation, the shamefastness wherewith God hath endued women, to retain them from these shameful actions, the baseness and brevity of that pleasure she pretends unvailable to that cost she bestoweth; yet for all this loss, she will hazard it: she neither regardeth the good she loseth, nor the harms she incurreth, nor the little trifle she winneth, transgresseth the law of nature, the law of God, the law of christianity, the law of friendship, only for lack of prudent and mature consideration married to a wicked Wili, and perverse affection. That which I have said of this lewd Woman, the same might be said of all sinners, because the means to do well are so many, and the dommages so great, that every sin consummate carrieth with it, that I could make a whole book of them, and perhaps, in time, I will do it. In the mean season (gentle Reader) whensoever occurreth any occasion apt to induce thy Will to offend God, run not too fast after it, ponder a little, crave help from above, consider thy helps, expend thy harms, and presently thou shalt see that all temptations of this world will become like to the huge Statue that Nabuchodonozor beheld, with the head of gold, the breast of silver, the belly of brass, the legs of iron, 
Daniel c. 3.  the feet of iron and earth; for all pleasures are golden in the entrance, but still decrease to terrestrial and earthly substances, towards the end they become loathsome, and are accounted wild, the little stone, without any human hands cut from the mountain, will deject, and cast prostrate on the ground this huge mass of metal, I mean the grace of Christ, all the multitude of temptations, and suggestions of the Devil, and then thou mayest reign over them by grace in this life, and glory in the end, Amen.     
FINIS.   

A Succinct Philosophical declaration of the nature of Clymactericall years, occasioned by the death of Queen Elizabeth. ⸪  
Written by T: W:  
LONDON Printed for Thomas Thorpe, and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard at the sign of the Crane, by Walter Burr. 1604.   

A Succinct Philosophical declaration of the nature of Clymactericall years, occasioned by the death of Queen Elizabeth. ⸪  
AFter the death of Queen ELIZABETH, who died in the 70. year of her age, which was the Clymactericall period of her life, diverse pregnant wits, and curious Philosophers were assembled by chance together, & among sundry other learned Discourses, one demanded of me, what were these Clymactericall years, their nature, and effects: For (quoth he) I have heard many Philosophors and Physicians talk of them, but as yet I never thoroughly could pierce or penetrate them. I answered him, that the Treatise thereof required longer time, than that place and present occasions afforded, but that afterwards at more leisure he should understand them, if he were desirous to learn: The Gentleman importuned me so much, as at last he drew me to write this Discourse which followeth: & for that it seemeth not altogether impertinent to this explanation of Passions, I think it not unfit to be inserted in the last Book of the Passions of the Mind; because the same temper of body, and propension to death, which is the base of Clymactericall years; the very same confers much, either to move Passions, or hinder the operations of the soul, as in the progress of this discourse shall plainly appear.  
Clymax in Greek signifieth a stair or a Ladder, and metaphorically is applied to the years of a man or woman's life; as if the whole course of our days were a certain, Ladder, compounded of so many steps.  
True it is, that as the constitutions of men's bodies are, for the most part, of two sorts, the one is firm and strong, the other more weak and feeble: so the Physicians by long experience have observed, that the fatal ends of them who be of a lusty constitution, finish for most part in some score of years, and so they number such persons periods by twenty, 40. 60. 80. 100 120. And to 
Other count them by ten.  this purpose said Moses, * whose eyes were neither darkened, nor any tooth loosed. * Centum viginti 
Deut. 31. 2.  annorum sum hody, non possum ultra egredi, & ingridi: I am now an hundred and twenty years old, I can no more go out and come in, that is, no longer live: and so it fell out, for that * same year 
Deut. 34. 7.  he died. And GOD himself said of man * Erunt 
Genes. 6. 4.  dies illius centum & viginti anni. The days of man shall be an hundred and 20. years.  
The next Clymactericall year in them of  and virile constitution is an 100, and so the Scriptures report. Numerus dierum vitae hominum ut 
Eccles. 18. 8  multum centum anni. The number of the days of the life of men at most is an 100 years. Another kind of men whose complexion is weaker, have a lesser kind of measure, as they have shorter life; and yet these also be of two sorts, some stronger, some weaker: the first Clymactericall years are nine, eighteen, twenty seven, thirty six, forty five, fifty four, sixty three, scutcheon two, eighty one; the seconds are, seven, fourteen, twenty one, twenty eight, thirty five, forty two, forty nine, fifty six, sixty three, scutcheon. Of these two ages spoke David when he said. Dies annorum 
Psalm 89. 10.  nostrorum in ipsis septuaginta anni. Si autem in potentatibus octoginta anni amplius corum labour & dolour. The days of our years are seventy years, and if in Potentates they be eighty, the labour and grief is greater.  
The most dangerous of all these passages or steps, are the forty nine, compounded upon seven times seven: and sixty three standing upon nine times seven, and next to these is scutcheon, which containeth ten times seven; they number them also by nine, and so make eighty one, the most perilous as comprehending nine times nine.  
These observations then of Physicians presupposed as true, for men that are wise, virtuous, and experimented in their faculties ought to be believed (for wisdom and experience protect them from error, and honesty from lying and deceit) it were good to examine and search out the cause of these notable alterations and dangers of death in the Clymactericall years, for those humours which altar the body, and dispose it to sickness, and death; the same bend the soul to take inordinate affections and passions. I have heard some Physicians resolve this doubt into the influence of heavens, to wit, that so many courses of the Sun, Moon, and Planets from the time of a man's Nativity, work such effects; so that some men, let them live never so orderly, after so many circular motions of the Sun and Moon have warbled over their heads, upon necessity they must fall into one sickness or another, and so die.  
Some others ground this variety and dangerous diversity, upon the singular providence of God, who hath created all things In numero, pondere & mensura: and therefore hath prescribed infallibly the periods of men's lives, according to that Psalm: Notum fac mihi domine finem meum: & numerum dierum meorum quis est: ut sciant quid desit mihi. Ecce mensurabiles posuisti dies meos. Psalm, 38. Make known unto me O Lord mine end, and the number of my days, that I may know what I want. Lo thou hast put my days mensurable; that is, prescribed certain bounds and limits of age not passable: and therefore both Philosophers and Physicians conclude, that a man with many disorders, surfeits, exercises, etc. may shorten the natural course of his life, but that he cannot any way prolong it, & pass the prefixed instant of his death: the similitude we have in a candle lighted, for let a man use all the diligence possible, the light and fire feeding upon the candle, perforce will consume it at last; and God or any Angel beholding the quantity of the wike, tallow, time of the year (for in cold weather a candle consumeth more than in hot, Per antiperistasin) and other circumstances may precisely foretell, that such a candle cannot continue burning longer than such a minute of such an hour; in a shorter time it may be consumed with wind, witches, snuffe-falling, or such like things which waste it away, but longer it cannot be prolonged: after the same sort standeth the courses and the lists of our lives prescribed by God and prefixed by nature: and so God hath appointed these Septuarie, and Nonarie years as best seeming his wisdom and providence.  
These manners of declaration I will not confute, for albeit I do think them both in some things most true, yet they are too general and remote to answer and satisfy fully our demand. The difficulty, no doubt, is exceeding hard, and rather I believe it to be true for the authority of Physicians, then for any credit I can give to their reasons; for indeed all that I have heard discourse thereupon (and I have heard some very fine wits) and what I have read, doth not content nor satisfy my mind. Therefore I will set down my Philosophical conceit (for in this speculation Physic dependeth upon Philosophy) and first suppose that customs, habits, changes, and great alterations in men's bodies come seldom upon a sudden, but by little and little grow and increase by tract of time; and as we say.  

Gutta cavat lapidem, non vised sepe cadendo,  
Sic homo fit doctus, non vi, sed sepe legendo.   

The dribbling drops by falling oft,  
Not might, make marbles thin:  
So men by oft perusing books,  
Not force, do learning win.   
Galen to declare the nature and force of custom 
Galen. de Consuet. c. 2.  and what effects it worketh in us, demandeth this question: how it cometh to pass, that some men's natures abhor exceedingly some sorts of meat, and are not able to disguest them; as for example, saith he, some cannot abide beef, others shell fishes; and we have many who cannot so much as endure the sight of cheese, others of apples: And yet these same persons by little and little are brought to eat, disguest, yea and greatly to like them? He answereth, that all beasts and men have natural propensions, to such meats as are consorting with the natural proprieties of their bodies, and abhor such things as are contrary; and therefore the Lion feedeth upon flesh, not upon hay; and the Ox upon hay not upon flesh; yet it falleth out that by tract of time, those meats which we detested, after by use become familiar, for they alter the body, and by the suck of their nourishment, change the affections and qualities of the stomach, in such sort, as that meat, which before was molestfull, and in very deed hurtful, becometh savoury and healthful: and this he proveth, not only to be true in men and beasts, but also in feeds and trees, whose fruit in some countries are poison, transferred into other soils where they receive another kind of nourishment, they become, not only by tract of time; not hurtful, but very healthful; not poisonful, but pleasant.  
Secondly, it is to be considered, that our bodies generally have certain courses, passages, stations or periods, wherein they notably change their actions and operations: till 21. years, or 25. at the most, we grow in height, for some come to their full growth sooner, some later: from 25. to forty two, or forty five, we grow in breadth or thickness, from this, till the end of our days we decline: the cause of these three notorious alterations is our natural heat or humidum radical, (which in mine opinion is nothing else but the vital temper, and qualification of every solid part of our bodies) the which residing in a moist body, causeth it to grow, like the heat in a loaf of Dowe set in the Oven: afterwards, what with internal heat, external drying of the winds, and sun, and other continual exercises, which daily exsiccate the body, & draw out the undeguested moisture, the innated heat is not able to rouse up the body any more in height, but spreadeth it abroad, and so enlargeth, and engrosseth it: after which continual working, heat is weakened, and so by little and little still decayeth: and finally resolveth in dissolution.  
Thirdly, in this septuarie number of our years, although we cannot discover such notorious differences, as in the three former passages, yet in these likewise, we may observe some markable change. At the first seventh year, men commonly note, that then the child beginneth, to have some little sparks of reason: and for this cause, the Cannon Law permitteth such, directed by their parents or Tutors, contrahere sponsalia, to make a promise of future marriage. In the fourteen year, the youth is thought to have the perfect use of reason, & then the Cannons account him capable of marriage. At twenty one, a man is reputed able judiciously to dispose of his goods, and faculties, and therefore the Common-law riddeth him then of his wardship, and the Cannons give him leave to take the order of subdeacon: the first seven years are called infantia, the second pueritia, the third adolescentia, the fourth, that is, from twenty one to twenty eight, juventus, from thence to forty nine, he is esteemed to stand in statu virili, the next till sixty three is senectus, after, till scutcheon & seventy seven, for most part ensueth decrepita aetas. In all these periods, or Clymactericall years, it is to be noted, that although the change in that year be perceived most palpably, and sensibly, yet in all the precedent, they were preparing, working, and something disposing thereunto: as for example, we must not think that the least drop of rain, which in effect breaketh the stone, doth it of itself, for that were impossible, but it doth it in virtue, and by force and working of all the former: And perhaps for this cause they were called anni scalares, for that every year precedent, was a step to the last, wherein the Ladder or stairs were ended.  
Fourthly, there is a great dispute among Physicians, what should be the cause of the Paroxysms, or fits in Agues, and once I myself being troubled with a tertian Ague, in Italy, in the City of Como, there came two Physicians my dear friends, and a Doctor of Divinity all at one time to visit me, and even then I stood in expectation of my fit. After many compliments & discourses about my sickness, at last I demanded these two Doctors of Physic, that they would resolve me in one doubt about my disease: they answered, with a good will: Well, said I, you both conclude, and it stands with good reason, that this sickness of mine proceedeth from excess of choler: now I would know of you, when my fit is past, is the choler all disguested, consumed, and voided away or no? If it be consumed, why doth my Ague return? if it be not consumed, why doth mine Ague departed? The Physicians here answered one contrary to another: for the first said it was disguested: Why then returneth mine Ague? For this cause quoth he, the Ague proceedeth not only of choler, but of choler putrefied, corrupted, and poisoned. Now sir, the choler poisoned is consumed, but other choler which remaineth, is not corrupted, but by the next paroxysm it will be corrupted: Well, said I, what thing is that which corrupteth & poisoneth that good choler, which before was not corrupted? It seemeth strange to me, how so much precisely should be corrupted, and the other being so near lying by it, or rather united with it, yea mingled in it, not to be infected: In truth I remember not what he answered, but I am sure he satisfied none of us all. The other Doctor of Physic said, it was not consumed, but nature feeling the force of that poison, united herself to fight against it, and so allayed most of the vehemency, vigour, and malignity thereof: and he gave an example of a pot of water set on the fire, for quoth he, if the coals be covered with ashes, the hot water cooleth, blow the fire and it warmeth and boileth, let ashes return, or the fire die, the water returneth to the first coldness: So quoth he, the poison of the choler, by nature's might is overcome, when the Ague departeth, but after that those spirits and forces, which nature had united, are dispersed, the fire is quenched, and choler again corrupted. But quoth the other Physician, so the sickness should never departed, for if your choler be still in cooling and heating, and nature now fight, now ceasing, when I pray you shall this combat be finally ended? Marry sir quoth his fellow Doctor, in this sort, nature mitigateth the forces of choler this fit, and allayeth them: now nature in the mean time, is strengthened with good food, and the humour either purged, or quailed with physic, and so by little and little it is quite disguested.  
Not so said the other, for then the second fit should always be less than the first, and the third less than the second, and so forward to the last: but this is false, for his third and fourth fits, were much more vehement, then either the first or second. And beside, by this declaration, no man should ever die upon an Ague. For if in every fit, the sickness ceased not, until the humour were allayed, then certainly in Agues, (which are mortal) the fit should never pass, which is most false.  
With this the Doctor of Divinity, who was a very good Philosopher, and for that he had been much troubled with maladies, he was like many wrangling Gentlemen, a pettifogging Physician at his own costs, as they be pettifogging Lawyers thorough their own suits. Why said the Divine, may we not hold that the Ague is in the liver and heart? No quoth the Physicians both, that cannot be, because no Physician ever held, that any Ague was in partibus solidis, that is, in the heart & liver, etc. except the Hectic. Well said the divine, I say not that it is in the heart and liver immediately, for that I will confess perforce must be choler, but I say the fountain and spring, the root and crigen to reside in the liver, the which immediately causeth corrupted blood and inflamed choler, for they being extraordinarily corrupted themselves with vehement heat, cannot but engender blood, spirits, and humours of like infection and corruption. And by this way I answer the first doubt that when the Ague ceaseth, choler is diguested: Why then returneth it again? Marry sir, because the heart and liver being out of temper, in that space of time engender so many more perverse humours, as oppress nature, so vehemently and dangerously, that she must employ all her might to resist them, abate them, extinguish them. In truth Master Doctor (said I) this opinion I like very well, and I will confirm it, for since mine Ague first began, these Physicians have inculcated nothing so much unto me, by word and deed, as to cool my liver: to this effect all their syrups and waters of Endive, Sicory, and Barley tended. And with this discourse we ended our dispute, & mine Ague: the which with this pleasant conference passed away.  
Fiftly, Plato avoucheth, that Agues have ages 
Plato in Dialog. de Natur.  like men, as also consummations and ends, with whom Galen consenteth: This sentence of Plato, Valesius a worthy Physician explicateth in this manner. As there are two sorts of diseases, sharp and 
Valesius de Sacra Philo. cap. 7.  cronical, both which have their decretory days, but not alike, for the sharp have odd days, especially seven: the cronical twenty, sixty, eighty, a hundred: so there are two prerogations or courses of life. the one is common to many, the other to few, and such as are of a most lively constitution: both of them have their Clymactericall or decretory years. The first we number by seven and nine, the latter we count by ten, and the last period is a hundred and twenty.  
To this Discourse of Valesius let us add a certain point of experience and doctrine of Galen, 
Galen. lib. r. de diebus decretorijs c. 22.  who in the decretory days of a fever, which numbereth by seven specially, he will tell you the fourth day, whether the Ague will leave the patiented the seventh, or whether he shall die upon the seventh day, or no: and also withal, he teacheth to foretell the very hour of death upon the seventh day.  
Last of all, out of these considerations we may gather as much as will sufficiently (I hope) satisfy the Question proposed in the beginning of this Section, viz: why in these Clymactericall years men commonly die? To which I do answer, That for every six years or eight, men still gather up more or less humours, which prepare the way for an Ague in the seven or nine: As we said before, when the fit is past, the heart and liver prepare humours for the next ensuing, and in case they be not sufficient in the seven, they multiply to the nine: if in this they fail, than they pass to the fourteen, then to eighteen, etc. And for this cause physicians council their Patients to purge in the Spring and Authumne, to hinder the increase of humours, albeit they feel themselves nothing diseased at all.  
This we may declare by the example of them, who are infected with hereditary diseases, as the gout, or the stone: for albeit they evidently appear not till old age, yet in all the progress of their years, the parts and humours infensibly are prepared. Or we may say, that in six or eight years the liver and heart which are fountains of blood, and origens of humours are so infected and corrupted, that in the last year they engender more unnatural superfluous humours, than can stand with the right and natural constitution of the body.  
But some will say, by this opinion a man should ever be sick, for he should never want corrupted humours, wherein sickness consisteth. To this I answer; first, that health consisteth not in indivisibili, in an indivisible point, so that it admitteth not some few peccant humours withal, but hath a certain amplitude, like as if into a But of strong Canary Wine, a man every month should put in half a pint of water, every day a spoonful, at the months end, yea the years end, the Wine would be almost as potent, as at the first, yea and perhaps more, if it be well helped.  
Secondly, we see that Custom breedeth qualities and alterations so insensibly, as in long time (till they come to a full growth) they can hardly be perceived.  
Thirdly, I doubt not but he that hath for example the first fourteen year of his life for his Clymactericall, in the precedent years, shall gather more corrupted humours, than he whose Clymactericall year is nine and forty, and also feel himself proportionally more weak, albeit he can not well perceive; for I myself have known a man, almost with half his lungs rotten with a consumption, and yet boldly avouch that he was strong, for Ab assuetis non fit passio.  
Some will object, that we see by experience many men die within the space of a day or two, who before were as sound and whole, as could be: neither in their urine, blood, or pulse appeared any sign of sickness, or superfluous humour.  
To this I answer, that such a man was either oppressed with some vehement Passion, or some violent exercise, or some other extrinsical cause, which accelerated, perverted, and extraordinarily augmented the humour, and so caused death: for as I said above, although a man (considering the common course of his days) can not pass his prefixed time and Clymactericall period, yet by many means he may shorten it.  
Much more I could say, prò and contrà, for this Declaration, but because it were something too Physical, and not so necessary for this Moral Treatise, therefore I will bury it with silence: for this point, in very truth, is so intricate, that I perceive, the best wits are exceedingly troubled to extricate themselves out of it.  
And therefore, as this I esteem probable, so I would give any Physician most hearty thanks, who in few words would teach me a better way.  
I said in brief, for I have seen some such long tedious Discourses, as I loathed to peruse them, doubting lest the uncertain profit, would not repay the certain pain.  
Finis.