A TREATISE OF MELANCHOLY.  
CONTAINING THE CAUSES thereof, & reasons of the strange effects it worketh in our minds and bodies: with the physic cure, and spiritual consolation for such as have thereto adjoined an afflicted conscience.  
The difference betwixt it, and melancholy with diverse philosophical discourses touching actions, and affections of soul, spirit, and body: the particulars whereof are to be seen before the book.  
By T. Bright Doctor of Physic.  ANCHORA SPEI  printer's device of Thomas Vautrollier 
Imprinted at London by Thomas Vautrollier, dwelling in the Blackfriars. 1586.   

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL M. PETER OSBOURNE, etc.  
OF all other practice of physic, that part most commendeth the excellency of the noble faculty, which not only relieveth the bodily infirmity, but after a sort even also correcteth the infirmities of the mind. For the instrument of reason, the brain, being either not of well tempered substance: or disordered in his parts: all exercise of wisdom is hindered: and where once understanding lodged, wit, memory, & quick conceit, kept residence, and the excellency of man appeareth above all other creatures: there unconsiderate judgement, simplicity, & foolishness make their seat, and as it were dispossessing reason, of her watch tower, subjecteth the nature of man unto the annoyance of infinite calamities, that force upon us in the course of this frail life, & baseth it far under the condition of brute beasts. The heart the seat of affection (and neither immoderate in temper, nor in figure or quantity otherwise disposed then is expedient for good action) the seat of temperancy, of justice, of fortitude and liberality, daily practice of physic showeth how much it is disposed and framed to mediocrity of affection wherein virtue consisteth, by such means as nature ministereth, & the physician her great steward according to her will, dispenseth where need requireth: in so much that what reason bringeth to pass by persuasion and counsel, that medicine and other helps of that kind seem to work by instinct of nature. The daily experience of frenzies, madness, lunasies, and melancholy cured by this heavenly gift of God, make manifest demonstration hereof. The notable fruit & success of which art in that kind, hath caused some to judge more basely of the soul, then agreeth with piety or nature, & have accounted all manner affection thereof, to be subject to the physicians hand, not considering herein any thing divine, and above the ordinary events, and natural course of things: but have esteemed the virtues themselves, yea religion, no other thing but as the body hath been tempered, and on the other side, vice, profaneness, & neglect of religion and honesty, to have been nought else but a fault of humour. For correcting the judgement of such as so greatly mistake the matter, and partly for the use of many that may need instruction and counsel, in the state of melancholy, & affection of brain and heart, & would have both to satisfy their own doubts, and to answer the profane objections of others, I have taken this pains to confute the absurd error of the one, & to satisfy the reasonable and modest inquiry of the other that seek to be informed. I have laid open how the body, and corporal things affect the soul, & how the body is affected of it again: what the difference is betwixt natural melancholy, and that heavy hand of God upon the afflicted conscience, tormented with remorse of sin, & fear of his judgement: with a Christian resolution according to my skill for such as faint under that heavy burden. And that I might to the uttermost of my endeavour (as other business would permit me) comfort than in that estate most comfortless, I have added mine advise of physic help: what diet, what medicine, and what other remedy is meet for persons, oppressed with melancholy fear, & that kind of heaviness of heart. I have interlaced my treatise beside with disputes of Philosophy that the learned sort of them, and such as are of quick conceit, & delighted in discourse of reason in natural things, may find to pass their time with, and know the grounds and reasons of their passions, without which they might receive more discomfort, and greater cause of error. This I have delivered in a simple phrase without any cost, or port of words to a supposed friend M. not ignorant of good letters, that the discourse might be more familiar than if it had carried other direction it otherwise would be. Change the letter, and it is indifferent to whom soever standeth in need, or shall make use thereof. I writ it in our mother tongue that the benefit (how small soever it be) might be more common, & as the practice of all ancient philosophers hath been to write in their own language their precepts, whether concerning nature, or touching manners of life, to the end their country men might reap the benefit with more ease, and seek rather for sound judgement of understanding, then for vain ostentation of strange tongues: which is also after a sort followed in translations: so I took it meetest to impart these few points of philosophy, & physic in English to the end our people, as other nations do, might acquaint themselves with some part of this kind, rather than with other frivolous discourses, neither profitable to use, nor delectable to the virtuous, and well disposed mind. This my slender endeavour I dedicate to your name right worshipful M. Osbourne, to whom beside I am particularly beholding, your good favouring of virtue and learning in certain of my acquaintance of the best mark hath moved me to give this signification how ready learning is to honour her favourers. she hath many daughters, and they be all knit in love: betwixt them there is neither envy, nor jealousy: where one is honoured and receiveth entertainment, there all congratulate without detraction: and even as in a dark night one star breaking out of a thick cloud, though it be but small, delivereth a far more cheerful and comfortable light, then if it shone with many in a clear evening: so this virtue hath the more grace, & beauty in you, insomuch as almost all such planets have a long time either been wholly eclipsed, or quite fallen out of their spheres, to the great discomfort of such as travail in this kind of night works, and busy themselves at the lamps and are careful to uphold with perplexed study the society of mankind by learning and instruction. There be a few that shine with you, their honour grounded upon virtue, shall stand for ever: the Muses and the Charites have their names in perpetual record: and I a servant of theirs in their names perform this duty unto you in this sort as I have declared. Far you well: from little S. Bartlemewes' by Smithfield the 23 of May. 1586.  
A lover of your virtue, T. Bright.   

TO HIS Melancholic friend: M.  
ALTHOUGH dear M. your letter full of heaviness, and uncomfortable plaints, hath in such sort affected me, that (as it fareth with a true hearted friend) your affliction draweth me into the fellowship of your mournful estate. Whereby I am feign to call for such support, as reason ministereth to wisemen: and am compelled as it were to put bit into the mouth of my over vehement affection: and give check as much as my strength serveth unto my passion somewhat in this behalf unruly. Yet albeit our cases are not equal, in so much as the grief is not so sensible to me as to yourself, whom it hath (I perceive) entered to the quick, not only of bodily sense: but hath passed deeper, and fretted the tender sinews of the soul and spirit: yet I say, for as much as such is the gracious providence of our God, and the manifold graces of his bountiful hand unto men, that scarce appeareth any calamity, but if time be taken and opportunity laid hold on, help and release doth as readily present itself, to the comfort of such as travail under the burden, as affliction is ready to charge them: and considering on whom this kind of cross is fallen: upon a man exercised in the study of piety, and a practiser of the same, and one not ignorant of the precepts of philosophy, whereby worldly men, and such as are destitute of the knowledge of God, stay themselves in such cases, which as it serveth them but slenderly and is but a readen staff, to bear up so heavy a burden, being otherwise void, and unfurnished of the heavenly grace, so may such philosophical and humane precepts, and consideration of natural causes, and events, stand him in stead, who resteth not wholly there on, but leaneth upon the main pillar of God's promises, of mercy and grace, and waighteth with patience the appointed time of his release. These considerations to be seen in you, give me consolation and the rather enable me to comfort you my dear friend, whose soul I perceive panteth with heat of that flame, which most nigh you say in your feeling approacheth unto those torments described where the worm dieth not and the fire goeth not out: whereof although you seem presently to feel the anguish for a time; yet have comfort and attend the happy issue, which doubtless is your raising up again and more high advancement into the assurance of God's love and favour. For as of all metals gold is tried with most vehement heat, and abideth the oftenest hamering of workmen for the refining, which being once fined serveth for the seat of the Diamond, and for matter of precious vessels to the royal furniture of the tables of potentates and princes: so now even that heavenly refiner, holdeth you in this hot flame for a time, till being purified and cleared from that dross of sin which cleaveth so fast, to our degenerate nature, you may make hereafter a more glorious vessel, for his service and honour of his heavenly majesty. Your request is not only that I should minister unto you, what my slender skill either in divinity or physic may afford, but that I would at large declare unto you the nature of melancholy, what causeth it, what effects it worketh, how cured, and farther to lay open, whatsoever may serve for the knowledge thereof, with such companions of fear, sadness, desperation, tears, weeping, sobbing, sighing, as follow that mournful train, yea oft times, unbridled laughter, rising not from any comfort of the heart, or gladness of spirit, but from a disposition in such sort altered, as by error of conceit, that gesture is in a counterfeit manner bestowed upon that disagreeing passion, whose nature is rather to extinguish itself with tears, than assuaged by the sweet breath of cheerfulness, otherwise to receive refreshing: This your request chargeth me with that, whereto if my skill reacheth not, yet my good will and prompt mind, both in respect of your estate, whose grief I pity and desire to mitigate, and the complaints of diverse others also in like case oppressed, draw me, that both they & you knowing the grounds of these passions: what part nature hath in the tragedy, and what conscience of sin driveth unto: what difference betwixt them, how one nourisheth another, how each riseth, and the several means, both of preventing and cure of each, the desperate discouragementes, which rise unto body and mind thus afflicted may be at the least mitigated, and some light given to the soul, stumbling in the dark midnight of ignorance, and refreshing to the comforteles heart, distracted with a thousand doubts and pensive thoughts of despair: wherein according to your request, I have copiously entreated of these points, that both you might be the more comforted and satisfied by plenty of discourse, & being a matter fitting your humour and pertinent to your present estate, you might have wherewith to pass the tedious time with more contentment. Therefore as your grief will give leave and respitt thereto, you may here know and learn that, which you desire to know in this case, whereof if by God's blessing you may make use to your comfort, I shall joy in my pains and you against other times of trial, by this experience, may have cause of more hope of release, and comfort in heaviness, then through the terror of this strange affliction you presently feel.   

THE CONTENTS OF the book according to the Chapters.  

HOw diversly the word melancholy is taken. Cap. 1. pag. 1.  
The causes of natural melancholy, and of the excess thereof. Cap. 2. pag. 4.  
Whether good nourishment breed melancholy by fault of the body turning it into melancholy, & whether such humour is found in nourishmentes, or rather is made of them. Cap. 3. pag. 7.  
The answer to objections made against the breeding of melancholic humour out of nourishment. Cap. 4. pag. 10.  
A more particular and farther answer to the former objections. Cap. 5. pag. 22.  
The causes of the increase & excess of the melancholic humour. Cap. 6. pag. 25.  
Of the melancholic excrement Cap. 7. pag. 31.  
What burned choler is, and the causes thereof. Cap. 8. pag. 32.  
How melancholy worketh fearful passions in the mind. Cap. 9 pag. 33.  
How the body affecteth the soul Cap. 10. pag. 39  
Objections against the manner how the body affecteth the soul, with answer thereunto. Cap. 11. pag. 49.  
A farther answer to the former objections, and of the simple faculty of the soul, and only organical of spirit and body. Cap. 12. pag. 55.  
How the soul by one simple faculty performeth so many and diverse actions. Cap. 13. pag. 67.  
The particular answers to the objections made in the 11. Chap. Cap. 14. pag. 72.  
Whether perturbations rise of humour, or not with a division of the perturbations. Cap. 15. pag. 80.  
Whether perturbations which are not moved by outward occasions rise of humour, or not: and how. Cap 16. pag. 90.  
How melancholy procureth fear, sadness, despair, and such other passions. Cap. 17. pag. 101  
Of the unnatural melancholy rising by adustion: how it affecteth us with diverse passions. Cap. 18. pag. 110.  
How sickness, and years seem to alter the mind, and the cause, & how the soul hath practise of senses separated from the body. Cap. 19 pag. 116.  
The accidents which befall melancholy persons. Cap. 20. pag. 123.  
How melancholy altereth the qualities of the body. Cap. 21. pag. 125.  
How melancholy altereth those actions which rise out of the brain. Cap. 22. pag. 129.  
How affections be altered. Cap. 23. pag. 132.  
The causes of tears, and their saltness. Cap. 24. pag. 135.  
Why tears endure not all the time of the cause: and why in weeping commonly the finger is put in the eye. Cap. 25. pag. 148.  
Of the parts of weeping: why the countenance is cast down, the forehead lowreth: the nose droppeth, the lip trembleth, etc. Cap. 26. pag. 123  
The causes of sobbing, and sighing: and how weeping easeth the heart. Cap. 27. pag. 157.  
How melancholy causeth both weeping, and laughing with the reasons how. Cap. 28. pag. 161.  
The causes of blushing, and bashfulness, and why melancholy persons are given thereunto. Cap. 29. pag. 166.  
Of the natural actions altered by melancholy. Cap. 30. pag. 173.  
How melancholy altereth the natural works of the body: juice, and excrement. Cap. 31. pag. 178.  
Of the affliction of conscience for sin. Cap. 32. pag. 184.  
Whether the afflicted conscience be of melancholy. Cap. 33. pag. 187.  
The particular difference betwixt melancholy, and the afflicted conscience in the same person. Cap. 34. pag. 193.  
The affliction of mind, to what persons it befalleth, and by what means. Cap. 35. pag. 198.  
A consolation to the afflicted conscience. Cap. 36. pag. 207.  
The cure of melancholy, & how melancholic persons are to order themselves in actions of mind, sense, and motion. Cap. 37. pag. 242.  
How melancholic persons are to order themselves in their affections. Cap. 38. pag. 249.  
How melancholic persons are to order themselves in the rest of their diet, and what choice they are to make of air, meat, and drink, house, and apparel. Cap. 39 pa. 257.  
The cure by medicine meet for melancholic persons. Cap. 40. pag. 265.  
The manner of strengthening melancholic persons after purging: with correction of some of their accidents. Cap. 41. pag. 277.    

A TREATISE OF MELANCHOLY.  

CHAP. 1. How diversly the word Melancholy is taken.  
BEFORE I enter to define the nature of melancholy, & what it is, for the clear understanding of that wherein my purpose is to instruct you, it shall be necessary to lay forth diverse manners of taking the name of melancholy, and whereto the name being one, is applied diversly. It signifieth in all, either a certain fearful disposition of the mind altered from reason, or else an humour of the body, commonly taken to be the only cause of reason by fear in such sort depraved. This humour is of two sorts: natural, or unnatural: natural is either the grosser part of the blood ordained for nourishment, which either by abundance or immoderate hotness, passing measure, surchargeth the body, and yieldeth up to the brain certain vapours, whereby the understanding is obscured; or else is an excrement ordained to be avoided out of the body, through so many alterations of natural heat, and variety of concoction, having not a drop of nourishing juice remaining, whereby the body, either in power or substance may be relieved. This excrement, if it keepeth the bounds of his own nature, breedeth less perturbance either to body or mind: if it corrupt and degenerate farther from itself and the quality of the body; then are all passions more vehement, & so outrageously oppress and trouble the quiet seat of the mind, that all organical actions thereof are mixed with melancholy madness; and reason turned to a vain fear, or plain desperation, the brain being altered in his complexion, and as it were transported into an instrument of an other make then it was first ordained: these two according to the diversity of settling, do engender diversity of passions, & according thereunto do diversly affect the understanding, & do alter the affection, especially if by corruption of nature or evil custom of manners the party be over passionate. The unnatural is an humour rising of melancholy before mentioned, or else from blood or choler, wholly changed into an other nature by an unkindly he ate, which turneth these humours, which before were ranged under nature's government, and kept in order, into a quality wholly repugnant, whose substance and vapour giveth such annoyance to all the parts, that as it passeth or is seated maketh strange alterations in our actions, whether they be animal or voluntary, or natural not depending upon our will, and these are all which the name of melancholy doth signify: now the definition and what it is. As the things be diverse, so it also followeth the suit, and is likewise diverse either of the humour or of the passion, and the humour being either a nutritive juice or an excrement unprofitable thereunto, I define the humour no otherwise then that part of that blood which naturally of the rest is most gross; and the excrement the superfluity of the same; which if it putrefieth, bestoweth still the name of a far diverse thing both in temper & nature, called black choler. The melancholy passion is a doting of reason through vain fear procured by fault of the melancholy humour. Thus briefly & clearly do you understand what the nature of melancholy is, and whereto the name is usually applied: of which when I shall have at the full to your contentment entreated, then will I satisfy the other part of your demand, and lay open the consent and difference betwixt the conscience oppressed with sense of sin and this natural kind before mentioned, and minister unto you such heavenly comfort and counsel as my slender skill will afford, and such physic help as your present need requireth.   

CHAP. II. The causes of natural melancholy and of the excess thereof.  
AS all natural humours rise of nourishment, so melancholy being a part of blood, from thence it springeth also. Whatsoever we receive into the body for sustentation of this frail life, consisteth of diversity of parts, being itself compounded, although to the outward view it seemeth to appear uniform: as bread, flesh, fish, milk, wine, bear etc. which show of uniformity being taken away by the natural furnace, which preserveth the lively heat of every living thing, that outward resemblance vanisheth, and the diversity manifesteth itself: as we see gold or silver, before it be proved with fire appeareth no other than all alike: but afterward is discovered by the burning crucible to be much otherwise; so fareth it with nourishments, whose diverse parts are laid open by so manifold concoctions, and cleansings, and straininges, as are continually without intermission practised of nature in every man's body: no gold finer, more busy at the mine, or artificial Chemist half so industrious in his laboratory, as this natural Chemist is in such preparations of all nourishment: be it meat, or drink, of what sort soever. By this means the blood which seemeth in all parts like itself, no egg liker one to another, is preserved distinct in all parts. The purest part which we call in comparison and in respect of the rest blood, is temperate in quality, and moderate in substance, exceeding all the other parts in quantity, if the body be of equal temper, made for nourishment of the most temperate parts, and engendering of spirits. The second is phlegm, next to blood in quantity, of a watery nature, cold and moist, apt to be converted into the substance of purebloud if nature fail not in her working ordained for nourishment of moister parts. The third is melancholy, of substance gross and earthy, cold and dry in regard of the other, in quantity inferior to phlegm, fit nourishment for such parts as are of like temper. The fourth, choler, fiery, hot, and driest of quality, thin in substance; lest in quantity, and ordained for such parts as require subtler nourishment, and are tempered with greater portion of the fiery element. These differences nature hath so distinguished, that although in vein and place, they remain linked together, yet in faculty, and virtue they are diverse the one from the other: which as they fit the variety of parts, blood the temperate, and the rest such parts as have like declining from temperate: so by the marvelous working of nature, these varieties of humours are entertained by nourishmentes inclining to like disposition: although no nourishment can be utterly void of all these parts, no not those that are counted most to incline to any one humour, as beef, and venison to melancholy: honey, and butter, to choler: and fish to phlegm. Hereof riseth then this humour melancholy, even from nourishments, as all the humours do; and although not of such excellent use; yet as necessary for the maintenance of life and substance of the body as any other; neither do these humours fall into man's nature only: but what soever living creature hath blood can not be destitute of them as parts thereof, more or less according to their diverse complexion. Thus then as man consisteth of parts requiring this diversity of food, necessary it was, and so ordained by God, such humours might answer in like variety: and as humours are diverse; so likewise the matter whereof they should be wrought could not be of one sort, and therefore all kind of nature ordained for nourishment, afford this choice, some in greater scarcity, this or that, to the end no state of body should complain. Here you may move a question not impertinent to the matter in hand; whether some bodies do not turn good nourishment, & of the purest sort into greater quantity of melancholy, than other some, and whether that of nourishment which of itself would yeeldstore of the best juice, by melancholic or rather cold and dry disposition of the body, can so be altered as to fail of that store, wherewith by nature it is replenished, and in steed thereof yield this gross, thick, cold, & earthy humour, whereof I now discourse. Again whether these humours are in such natures, as yield nourishment, and so by separation only after any Anaxagorian manner appear, or rather are made as a stool out of timber, bread of corn, wine of grape, etc.   

CHAP. III. Whether good nourishment breedeth not store of melancholy by fault of the body: whether it turneth not into melancholy: and whether these humours are found in nourishments, or rather are made out of them.  
THESE questions are not void of probability on both sides, which to the end the truth may lie the more apparent, I will not stick to declare unto you. It should seem (as the objection importeth) that which before hath been attributed to the kind of nourishment should rather rise of the body nourished, considering how it altereth, which it embraceth for nourishment, as consider the earth itself, the mother & very nurse of all corruptible things, how out of the same soil, not half a foot betwixt the wholesome fruit and sovereign medicine, both spring up together with deadly poison: yea how in the self same creature what strange diversity of nature ariseth of the self same nourishment: as in the pastinacamarina, whose substance & flesh is wholesome to eat, & yet the tail carrieth a most deadly weapon, wherewith whatsoever is wounded, perisheth without recovery, not by any foreign tincture, but by the nourishment altered in that part into such a pernicious disposition. The same is also found in the flies Cantharides, whose body exulcerateth all parts, but especially the bladder, and is not inferior to the chief poisons, contrarily the wings help wherein the body hurted; which may be no small reasons of of doubt; whether the humours be found in nourishments, or rather are made by a certain disposition of the body: as who would imagine, blood could ever be made of iron; which notwithstanding, the Ostriches alter in such sort, as by no heat of fire, it can be sooner melted than it is digested in the stomach of that feathered foul? now nature digesteth nothing but to make use of nourishment thereof: else whatsoever entereth into the body, passeth as it cometh, and hath no welcoming; but is refused as impertinent; nature bestowing no handling thereof: more than a skilful painter to counterfeit the fashion of some excellent beauty, would dip his pencil in the mire, in steed of perfect colour. To these probabilities may be added, how some nature's change into a far diverse quality that which they have received, than it stood by nature, as the family of Marsie in Italy, & Psillie in Lybia: which was so tempered, that they did without hurt suck the poison of vipers, and without peril did usually hunt them: and so by necessary consequence to be gathered, that they did receive nourishment by them. What soever entereth into the stomach, either is altered into familiarity of nature: or else having an actual power not hindered, altereth with repugnancy the nature which hath received it. If it altereth it wholly, then destroyeth it; if in part; then carrieth it on the one part nourishing and alimentary virtue, and on the other, a medicinable power; so it should seem these Psillie, even by virtue of nature made nourishment of that, which to other is deadly poison. Whereupon it may be gathered, that nourishments in some bodies have not such power, as I have said before; seeing they be made in certain of poison. The same may be declared in ducks and hens, which feed upon toads, notwithstanding their flesh we feed of with health, and strength, to our bodies; Quails likewise feed of sneezing powder seeds, and fieldfares of hemlock, the one much approaching nigh unto, and the other famous by the Athenian executions, for most infamous poison▪ all which notwithstanding, their flesh is not refused at the tables of the most delicate and daintiest: hereby in appearance it seemeth that it skilleth not much, what meat is received in respect of sustaining this or that complexion; seeing that poisons may be made by virtue of concoction familiar nourishment: yea which is more available to uphold this matter, and strange to consider of; it hath been known and is recorded in credible history, that some have been brought up from their youth and always have been sustained and fed with poison; which being so, the nourishments of the body not only receive preparation by natural concoction, by which they become that in deed & effect, which before they were in power & possibility: but seem to be made out of whatsoever is received; where it findeth a nature of sufficient strength to frame it: and not (as it was wont to be said) Mercury is not made of every tree, so nature maketh every thing of any thing: not by Anaxagoras art, for than should bread contain really, corporally, and substantially flesh, blood and bone, but by a power and virtue whereof the matter hath no part, more than the gold for the framing of a jewel partaketh of the gold smiths cunning.   

CHAP. FOUR The answer to the former objections.  
THESE shows and semblances of truths may seem to overthrow that which hath been set down as the ground and matter of humours, & lay it rather in the nature of the thing nourished, to transform and assimilate whatsoever it hath received, though it be of never so strange a quality: but as I have set down these objections, to the end that truth being compared with untruth may the better appear by reason of comparison, so mark for your fuller satisfying in this point, how yet nothing is hereby lost, but sufficiently it maintaineth itself: and by strength of reason, the only pillar of human truths it is upholden. It was declared before how nourishments as of all other humours, so of melancholy, they afford the matter, to the which nature applying her proper temper as an instrument, and practising that skill which she hath learned of God, worketh out both humours and substance for preservation and nourishment of our bodies; now that the earth within small distance affordeth nourishment both to henbane & lettuce, to hemlock and the mallow, to poison and wholesome herbs; that the same flower nourisheth the spider, and yieldeth honey to the be, that the pastinacamarina carrieth the instrument of death in her tail, and wholesome food in her substance, and all what hath been before objected from Cantharides; the Ostriches, Psilli and Marsi, sneezing powder, hemlock and toads, whereof wholesome birds do adventure for nourishment, and from that virgin fed and sustained with poison sent unto Alexander to infect him with her company: all I say that may out of these particulars encounter the former truths, being considered and weighed, add this thereunto (taking away nothing) that to the disposition of the matter, it is also necessary, an outward skill and science in the worker concur, whereby that matter may receive convenient form agreeable to the workers intention. For as it is impossible to make a rope of sand, so likewise hemp maketh it not without the art of the crafts man, who joining his work with convenient stuff findeth the end of his labour: and as some workmen exceed other in skill & diligence and of the same matter, the work either excelleth or wanteth according thereunto; in like manner the nourishment being all one, as it falleth to a nature of good or bad temper, weak or strong, bringeth forth nourishment, and excrement accordingly. Touching the earth it containeth in it invisible seeds of all things in a manner, to which it storeth up and importeth also food meet and convenient: these seeds lie not distinct in place but in nature, no more than the parts of blood which before I mentioned, so that although it were possible for hemlock and the vine to grow in one body, and occupy one place, yet could not the proper nourishment to either be avoided: such harmony and agreement is there betwixt them in nature, and with such earnest desire doth the one affect the other. This then is the cause why life and death dwell so nigh together, and yet (as they are of the vehementest sort of adversaries) without entercommunication. Even so the body containeth parts linked notwithstanding in one community, of diverse natures, which draw out of the mass of nourishment that which is meet each one for itself: which though it in appearance, & show, seemeth uniform, yet containeth it diversity, as the sundry parts require: which diversity being distinct in nature, & confused as it appeareth in one by the cloak & garment of an universal form; by nature's Mechanical operation (the very pattern of all arts, both liberal and servile) is discovered & brought into an actual substance consisting of his single & proper nature, which before had only a potential subsistence as members & parts have in the whole. Which producing I understand not a discovery only, as by withdrawing a vail, to show that which lay behind it, but a generation and coupling of matter with the form; which form it bringeth not with it, but receiveth it as it were an impression from the part. So then, as every thing is not made of any thing in art; neither is food ministered for all things in every thing in nature: but requireth apt preparation of matter, by natural virtue to be appropriate to every part. Now if it be replied: this answer, as it may suffice against that which is objected out of the earth, yet leaveth it doubtin the pastinaca; Cantharides and Psilli: by reason the matter of these things through natures working groweth more particular, & is not stored with such variety (as I may so call them) of potential natures; whereby it might seem the very individual substance indifferently to subject itself either for nourishment or poison: let the consideration of the earth carry us yet farther to the dissolving of this knot also. True it is, that the particular nourishment containeth not so many suits, as the earth the nourisher of all things doth: yet it answereth in proportion to the part which it hath to sustain. So that the mass of blood being the universal soil, wanteth not for the relief & entertainment of all the members of the body, choice of substance according to their variety. Hereof is the bone nourished, as hard as metal: and the brain as tender as a posset cured: the kidneys gross and thick: and the lights lose and subtle: the eye as clear as crystal: and the spleen as black and dark as ink. Now let us apply this more particularly to Pastinaca, Cantharis, and the rest of that sort, The Pastinaca, substance, and fish, is nourished with that which in itself is wholesome, the fish being of the same substance or disposition; but so, that, that nourishment hath in it an execremental substance, which being considered alone though it be not yet poison, hath in it a power, meeting with a former, to become of like hurtful quality: which we see in execrements being permitted to putrefy and to degenerate of themselves, how by corruption they become most dangerous; much more finding an active and lively nature furnished with power as it were to animate and waken that which before lay dead in such matter: so Pastinaca hath a weapon given by nature soaked with most deadly venom separated yet from the fish, and sticking on the one side of the midst of the tail, which is maintained with such a kind of excrement, as being rejected in all the parts, findeth there impression and entertainment: not either that the fish feed of that poison (for nothing feedeth of excrement, appropriate to one part, or that wherewith that part, while it is excrement is nourished) as venomous, for than should such as feed of that fish be in peril, but being unmeet to nourish or to have place in the fish, is of temper, (by the altering of that part) apt to be converted into so venomous a nature, which is planted in the fishes tail, not much unlike to the growing of Misleto in a crab tree, whose natures do apparently differ, seeing the same Misleto groweth also in the oak & on the hawthorn: neither can any with reason affirm, the Misleto is nourished with that which belongeth to the crab: for than would it not prosper in the oak destitute of his proper juice, but both the oak, the crab tree and the hawthorn, certain of them, and in certain places, having a superfluity meet for that use, the seed of that misle being there and embracing that humour, riseth up into such a diverse plant as we see; which yet according to the diversity of place, varieth in virtue, for that only of the oak we use and account available against the falling sickness & esteem the other of small value. Now if it be demanded, why then groweth not the misle on the earth, which hath more plenty of such juice, and greater choice? it may be thus answered: although the earth affordeth entertainment for all things, yet it doth it diversly, to some immediately, to other some by means, as the earth ministereth juice to the grass and herb of the common field, it nourisheth mutton, & we feed thereof; who if we should attempt to be relieved by the herb, it would yield us but thin fare. This juice of the earth is altered into an other nature in the herb, that herb into flesh, and flesh of that kind changed into the substance of our bodies, which first as it sprung up from the earth, so by it is it relieved. So the misle draweth from the earth, by means of the tree wherewith it prospereth, endued now with other form, & made more familiar unto it, by the preparation of the tree. And this I take to be the cause why certain things will not grow on the earth, but in other natures: and why graffs yield more pleasant fruit then carnels, by reason the stock giveth the crude and raw nourishment of the earth a farther ripening, and even as it were chewing it unto the sion graffed: so to conclude this answer; the Pastinacas venom is ministered by an excrement, which carrieth an aptness to be converted into poison: and such poison as that part is able: thereof to engender, neither being such before in the Pastinaces nourishment, nor in the substance of the fish, nor as excrement; but after it is converted thereinto by that barbed weapon; which the fish revengeth within her tail. Whereby it is evident, that not only of poison, but of any humour beside, the aptness of the matter (whereof some be grosser, and some pass more alterations) it is necessary also there should concur in the place nourished, an altering virtue; and as such assimilation is necessary, in like manner an apt matter may not be to seek, sit for such generation. Wherefore Melancholy is not made of every part of good nourishment, but of such part, as hath a token of fellowship with the same Melancholy: and more or less as the body is more or less apt, together with aptness of the matter to make that conversion. Touching the Ostrich which may seem to turn iron into blood and so into flesh: we are rather thus to esteem, that although the Ostriches nature doth intend nourishment by the iron; yet doth it no more nourish, than stones doth chickens, & hens which are dissolved in their maws. How then (say you) & why doth it dissolve iron? by a contrary virtue which respecteth all things alike, that are received: whereby the stomach becometh the most Catholic part in all the body, carrying a more indifferent affection to whatsoever is received then any part beside, which in the first concoction regardeth not so much itself as other parts, for whose sake it is ordained, as it were, the Cook not respecting this or that sort of nourishment or food, but applying itself alike generally to all that hath not a resistance in nature and a counterpower of poison, which always altereth and is not altered. Else could it not so easily embrace both hot and cold, sour and sweet, fat and lean, moist and dry, of all bougetts (as a certain Poet saith) in that respect the strangest; by this virtue the Ostriches having a very thick and fleshy maw, whereby it is furnished with store of a natural heat dissolveth by a kind of putrefaction, the iron; which if it yield any nourishment, the stomach findeth benefit thereof in the blood, wherewith it is nourished, if none, it passeth all into excrement and so is voided as unprofitable, except it may be thought more likely in reason, that the Ostriches enjoyeth some part of nourishment, thereby passing it into blood, or at the least that the stomach receiveth a kind of comfort and contentment, which commonly it is taken to do by the nourishment it containeth as the Cook's appetite may be satisfied for a time by smelling of the roast, which if it fair so with the stomach there is then reason sufficient of such digestion which the fowl worketh not by the excess of heat, but by a certain temper at for the work, for no heat of fire in long time is able to do that which the Ostrich maw doth speedily by a certain corruption of that which it digesteth. Carrying as it were a kind of Aqua fortis in the maw, rather than any heat of Aetna, if we take it that the fowl hath some part in the body, whose turn the common officer, the stomach serveth, agreeing to the nature of some substance contained in the iron, & that conveyed into the blood, and from thence drawn to that part, whereof it is affected: or it hath an Alementarie virtue common to diverse parts. Be it so, yet therefore no consequence of reason can infer, that nature respecteth not any aptness of matter: for in a manner all things of the earth hath some thing alimentary and pasturable for all living creatures, which may evidently appear by comparing of nature. The earth which we plough and till and labour with hard and weary hand is altogether mineral, which is the generallest nourishment of all: now if one nature among so many millions be found in iron to suck forth that virtue, no marvel seeing all creatures which require relief of food, by certain degrees and former apparitions, partake of the same: then seeing the Minerals feed the Vegetals, and the Vegetals the Animals; let the experience of the Ostrich satisfy us in this which reason misliketh not, that even a nutritive juice for some sort of Animal may be found in iron, and yet so, that (notwithstanding) not all things are of like aptness for such use, neither in general as blood, nor in particular, as the more special food belonging to each part derived from the blood. And thus my friend M. to pass the tedious time with you, you have my opinion to this objection. As for the strange nature of that kind of people or famelie called Marsi and Psilli, we may thus reasonably conjecture, that either they had a nature of stronger temper, than the ordinary sort, by which it was able to master that poison and all other; or else by the custom of usual feeding on the flesh of asps and vipers, which they did use, they grew into such familiarity with the poison, as the serpents themselves, which nature had with such poison so armed, and this rather than that infamous refuge of propriety of substance, which is as much to say, as we know not. This custom was also the only cause why the young maid nourished with poison faired with it as with other victual: for of purpose she was nourished from her infancy therewith, that she might by frequenting the kings company destroy him with infection, which poison being but an accidentary thing, by custom is vanquished of a natural & essential virtue. That poison is but accidental and not essential, it appeareth by that in divers kinds, it is not in all of the same sort, nor alike in all parts of such natures, as we count venomous, as the wings of Cantharides and the bodies so contend in nature, that the one helpeth where the other harmeth: the weapon of Pastinaca and the fish, the Scorpion and his sting, the viper's bit and viper's flesh, the base and foundation of treacle, the shrewmouse and herself dissected and applied to the wound: which all argue the poison not to be equally mixed, and therefore not essential: again in some places Scorpions are not hurtful, in some spiders, in other some aspides, the which if their nature did consist of poison, than could they not be otherwise, neither receive alteration by soil, neither is this in animals only, but also in vegetals, as in Persia, in hemlocks, in Napellus in the ugh tree which in other some places carry with them certain and assured peril, and in other some are utterly harmless. This custom being begun in infancy, made a greater familiarity betwixt the damsels nature, & the poison, which as in civil manners it is more flexible in youth than in process of years, so the disposition of nature fareth in like sort, which most heartily embraceth that wherewith it is first acquainted, but you will say; how could it have first access and be entertained of nature, to whom it is so repugnant. Thus we are to judge in the case, that they which first practised this strange kind of nourishing, by little and little assayed nature, and now and then gave heart thereunto by counterpoison preservatives, and so at the last, being encouraged, and farther strengthened, it was able to overcome that part of the poison; which of itself was deadly and turn the other into familiar nourishment, which by reason of acquaintance through custom, her nature broke which if it had been all poison, then as it had been wholly & unfit matter of nourishment, so could she not without danger have borne it one hour: whereby it is manifest, that with nature's art an apt matter of producing of nourishment must needs meet for her maintenance. That which Cantharides offereth of doubt, may be sufficiently resolved by that which hath been said of Pastinaca. The quails feeding of Henlock, & the other of sneezing powder, move more difficult questions, seeing they make the poison wholesome nourishment to themselves & yield their bodies, dainty dishes to our tables, notwithstanding their poisoned food: Whereby it should seem, that poison itself, where a nature fitteth, therewith may be matter of wholesome nourishment, for the satisfying of which objection, we are to consider every part of that we take for nourishment, is not alimental but part excrement, and that the greatest part, as it appeareth by so many alterations, and purginges, which the food suffereth, before it be received of the parts of the body for proper nourishment▪ so therefore; these birds are not sustained with that which is poisonful in their food, but altar it first, and then pass it into superfluous excrement; their substance being utterly void of the same, and so becometh unto us wholesome: very well: but how is their nature able to vanquish that which is poison: seeing it is not received of us without present danger? diverse reasons thereof may be alleged, first, it is not poison unto them, as we see some kinds of Aconites to kill dogs, some Leopards, and some wolves, and not offensive to our creatures: then, that it may be by excessive heat of the maws of such birds, then cold poison of Hemlock receiveth sufficient alteration to keep of the peril of poison. Whereto may also be added, the reason of Galen, that because the veins & passages of those birds are straight, the poison before it assaileth the heart in the way receiveth sufficient alteration; especially Hemlock being so cold poison, and therefore slow of passage in respect of itself, and shutting up, and straightening of poors, by which it passeth: so to conclude this problem, we see the sentence standeth yet sure, that nourishments are the matter of all humours, and by consequence of Melancholy, and although nature's wonderful art appeareth in making (as it may seem in appearance) one contrary to another, yet doth it not so in deed, but always desireth convenient matter to practise her natural act upon: and thus much to the objections, now to the questions themselves.   

CHAP. V Touching the questions propounded in the end of the second Chapter.  
Thus much hath been said to the objections, now let us declare at large to your fuller satisfying, what I judge most agreeable to the truth in the questions: and first, whether some bodies do not turn good nourishment, and of the purest sort into greater quantity of melancholy, than other some? which question if we consider parted, it may more clearly be decided, that is, first whether the same nourishment be not turned into more or less plenty of melancholy in other bodies? then, whether by any quality of temper, good and pure nourishment may yield an humour melancholic? To these questions first I answer affirmatively, yet not impairing of the former truth set down. For all kind of nourishment as it in part altereth the bodies, so is it again of them more altered than it altereth, whereby melancholic persons of the self same nourishment frame unto themselves that which to themselves is agreeable: else could there be no nourishment without this altering virtue. Why then (say you) it riseth not of the nourishment, which was not melancholic, but of the nature nourished. Not so, for no nourishment is so pure, that altogether it is void of melancholic matter, for than could it not be nourishment: but notwithstanding it hath greater plenty of good nourishment then of gross and melancholic, the similitude of nature refuseth the one, and embraceth the other: whereupon riseth this difference in nourishment, the vital being alone. The second part of the former question, receiveth the same answer with the first, because no nourishment is so pure but it partaketh little or much, with some part of melancholy. For I do not take it, that the part maketh the nourishment melancholic, which carrieth no disposition thereunto: but lusteth after that in the mass of victuals, wherewith it hath greater familiarity, which to a melancholic body is of an impurer disposition, refusing that would serve more fitly for a better tempered complexion; even as we see oft by experience that the good complexion may be replenished with melancholic blood: which appeareth by opening a vain, and yet the party's body nourished, (as the beauty of colour doth declare) with that which is pure, which melancholic blood rose of evil choice of diet, rather than through fault of complexion: now that part of nourishment, that is pure cannot be altered in substance into another, whereto it carrieth no proportion: by mixture it may be defiled, and become impure, but neither can it be altered into that, wherewith it hath no community, more than gross, melancholic, and earthy nourishment can by any art of nature become aëry, moderate and pure: I mean the self same part of nourishment: for so might all things in deed rise of every thing, which would turn the excellent variety of natural things into unity. As for Anaxagoras imagination of breeding things by separation only, this kind of diverse matter, which we require in nourishment overthroweth it, neither are we to think generation of nourishment to be no other but as art worketh upon her subject, for there, is there no nature produced, distinct in substance and essence, but by an accidental quality only produced by art. And thus lest I be over tedious in this point, you have my answer to the questions and objections before made concerning the nature of nourishing and preparation of humours, and hitherto that hath been said, respecteth only melancholy, as it is an humour in the body apt for nourishment of certain parts, more disposed to that, then to any other portion of the blood beside, now touching the cause of increase and excess of this humour.   

CHAP. VI Of the causes of the increase and excess of melancholic humour.  
IT was declared that the quantity of melancholy should be least in the just temper of blood of all the other parts, saving choler, which natural proportion and rate when it exceedeth, then is the body turned into a disposition melancholic by humour: although the complexion for a time hold entire, which long can not endure, more than the nature of that damsel which was nourished with poison, kept her ingenerated complexion: but nature acquainting itself by moments and degrees with such kind of humour, and having no choice of better, is feign at length to embrace that, which otherwise more gladly it would reject. The causes of excess of this humour are diverse, and all (except it be received from the parent) spring from fault of diet: and although chiefly meats and drinks do yield matter to this humour, yet besides the complexion inclining to such temper, this matter is increased by perturbation of mind, by temper of air, and kind of habitation, and that humour which otherwise would yield a nutritive juice, of the best sort, by this occasion is turned into these dregs of melancholy. Here first I will declare unto you, such nourishments as are apt to engender those humours, that in this present state you now stand in, oppressed therewith, knowing which they are that minister matter to this gross juice, you for your more speedy recovery avoid them, and with choice of better, alter that which is amiss into a more cheerful quality. Now all nourishmentes that offend us, either do it by their own nature, or by some accidentary cause befalling unto them, and likewise whatsoever becometh unto us melancholic. But that you may more easily understand from whence all sorts of nourishments are taken, I will set down unto you in a short view, the kinds of them all, and in every kind note unto you, that which of the own nature is melancholic. You know all nourishmentes are either meat or drink: meats are taken either from vegetables or animals: the vegetables either minister unto us nourishment themselves, or their fruit only, & they are either of trees or herbs: of trees, the tender buds are eaten, which because we do little use to feed of, I pass over farther mention. Of herbs we either feed of the root, or such parts as rise therefrom, and those roots are either round or long, of neither sort do I remember any greatly to be eschewed as melancholic, except rape roots & navews. Such parts as rise from the root, are used while they be tender and young, or else sprung up at the full, of these kinds, coal words, beet, and cabbages only engender a melancholic juice. The fruits of vegetables are either of trees or herbs: of fruits of trees, quinces raw, meddlers, services, dates, olives, chestnuts and acorns are all melancholic: fruits of herbs, are either grain or of other sort, and those are either corn or pulse: of corn, sodden wheat is of a gross and melancholic nourishment, and bread especially of the fine flower unleavened: of this sort, are bag puddings, or pan puddings made with flower, fritters, pancakes, such as we call Banberie cakes, and those great ones confected with butter, eggs &c. used at weddings, and howsoever it be prepared, rye and bread made thereof, carrieth with it plenty of melancholy. The pulses are wholly to be eschewed, of such as are disposed to melancholy: except white pease: fruits of herbs of other sort then grain are purest from melancholic excess. And thus of vegetables you understand, which you have in this melancholic respect to be avoided. The food which we take from the animals, is either from themselves, and from certain of their wholesome excrements. Such as yield themselves are either of the earth, or of the water: those of the earth have great diversity of nourishment in their several parts, which are either spermaticall, and those of white colour: or sanguine, of colour red and bloody. The spermaticall parts may well be discharged of melancholic juice, as rather inclining to phlegm. Of the sanguine parts, some are the brawny parts, which compass the bones, and are ordained for voluntary motion, called muscles: or else are of the inward parts, and are of themselves destitute of motion. The muscles which are subject to most motion, as of the legs, yield more melancholy, than parts which have more rest. Of the inwards, the milt is altogether melancholic, & so the kidneys, the liver, the heart, and with them, all the carnels. Blood is melancholic, and whatsoever dish thereof is made. Now all nourishments taken from the earth, are either beasts, or foul. Of beasts; these are of melancholic persons to be eschewed: pork, except it be young, and a little corned with salt, beef, ram mutton, goat, boar's flesh, & venison: neither is mutton of any sort greatly commended of Galen. Of foul, some be water foul, and some land. The water foul are not of melancholic persons to be tasted, except the goosewing. The land foul which are melancholic are these: fieldfares, thrushes, sparrows, martin's, turtles, ringdoves, quails, plovers, peacocks etc. and these have you to eschew of nourishments of the earth. Those of the water are fish: & either of the salt water and sea; or of the fresh water. Such as are of the sea, are either of the monsters of the sea; or such as more properly are to be called fish. The monsters are ceals purposes, & such like: which all breed unwholesome & melancholic nourishment. The fish of the sea are either shell fish, or destitute of such defence. Of shell fish, some are of harder shells, as oysters, periwincks, muscles, cockles, & such like: of which rank, the oyster carrieth with it least suspicion of melancholy. The softer shell or crusty are cry fish, the crab, the lobster, the punger, & such of the rivers like to these etc. which all need not to be excepted unto you in order of your diet. Such sea fish as carry no armour of shells, are either those, that haunt the rocks: or other parts of the sea. The rock fishes are most apt of all manner sea fish, for melancholic persons: as the gilthead, the whiting, the sea perch etc. Such as haunt other places, are either keepers of the depth; or aprochers nigh the sand & shore. Of such as keep the depth, either they have the pools: or other places of the depth. Of the pool fishes, I remember not any greatly to be avoided in choice of your diet. Of such as frequent other places of the depth, these are melancholic: the dragon of the sea, in form like an eyle: the cuckoo, ling, any salt fish, thornbacke, and skate. Of such as approach the shore, I know none greatly to be avoided. Fresh water fish, and of the river: the lampray, and the tench, have most plenty of melancholy. And these are nourishments taken from the parts of the animals: now their works are either excrements, & superfluities of their humours, or other kinds of works. Of the first sort, are milk from the beast, and eggs from the foul: which the spawn of fish in a manner resembleth: milk, and what soever is made thereof, is to be eschewed of melaneholie persons: as cheese, curds, etc. the spaunes, as roes of hearings, are to be eschewed of you, as nourishment of melancholy: else I take none of that sort greatly to be feared in that respect. Of other works of animals than excrements, we feed only of honey, which hath no melancholy disposition at al. Of drinks, eschew red wine, and what soever liquor, bear, ale, or cider, is not clear, & well fined: as also if it be tart, and sour. Hitherto have you heard of nourishmentes, which of their own nature are to be eschewed; now of those that by some accident, and not of themselves are melancholic, as if they be too old, and very lean: or be long kept: or over much salted: whereby they become the drier and harder, you are to refuse them. Likewise if in the dressing of the nourishment, it be overmuch baked, or roasted, it is to be eschewed. To these belong salt fish, beef, and bacon, and red hearringes, hard cheese, and old. Of drinks, new wine, bear or ale: and on the contrary part, over stolen, and sour, are to be eschewed: and of sauces, those that be sharp, as verjuice, aliger, or beareger, vinegar, are chiefly to be avoided of melancholic persons. Thus do you understand how to use your choice in meats, and drinks: and what to shun, as breeders of this thick, black, and melancholic humour. Besides these, the air thick and gross is sit to entertain this humour: so that fumie, marish, mislie, and low habitations, are hurtful to persons disposed to melancholy: likewise if it be dim & dark. Wherefore the houses, & habitations of that sort, are most unmeet for such persons. These hitherto are all such outward things melancholic: whatsoever else breedeth melancholy, is a disorderly behaviour of our own parts, in such actions as belong to the government of our health. This behaviour, is either in actions of motion: or in order and manner of rest. Our motion, is either of mind, or body. Of actions of the mind, over vehement studies, and sad passions, do alter good nourishmentes into a melancholic quality; by wasting the pure Spirits, and the subtilest part of the blood: and thereby leaving the rest gross and thick. In like sort do exercises either wholly intermitted; or turned into an excessive labour, and wearying of the body: the one causing the blood to be thick through settling: and the other, by spending the body overmuch, & drying it excessively. Such also as give themselves to inordinate sleep, thereby further the increase of melancholic humours. And these are all the causes, whereby the matter of that humour is supplied; and the blood being of itself good, is altered into that juice, whereof you complain of abundance. Now if to these, you add a nature of itself disposed thereto, & a spleen not able, either for feebleness, or obstruction, to purge the blood of superfluity of that juice, then have you all that may be said of the causes of this humour, keeping within the compass of nourishment.   

CHAP. VII. Of melancholic excrements.  
THE melancholic excrement is bred of melancholy juice, drawn of the milt out of the liver, by a branch of the port vain, wherewith being nourished, it rejecteth the rest as mere excremental; and voideth part, into the mouth of the stomach, to provoke appetite, and hunger; and passeth the other part in some persons, by hemerode veins into the siege: It aboundeth there when it is hindered of such passage as nature requireth; or else by feebleness of the part, it is not able, either to suck the melancholy from the blood, or discharge itself into those passages, which nature hath thereto ordained. This member, of the whole body is the grossest, and evil favouredst to be held, black of colour, and evil savoury of taste: and giveth a manifest experience of nature's desire, always to covet that, whereto it is most like; and so fareth the spleen better with those muddy dregs, than it would with purer and finer blood; which if it should be offered to other parts, they would abstain: except great want forced them to take any part thereof. These are the causes of natural melancholy, both juice, and excrement: It remaineth next, to show, what that humour is, which riseth of this, or any else, corrupted, called also by the name of melancholy.   

CHAP. VIII. What burned Choler is, and the causes thereof.  
THAT kind of melancholy, which is called Atra bilis, riseth by excessive heat of such parts, where it is engendered or received, whereby the humour is so adust, as it becometh of such an exulcerating, and fretting quality, that it wasteth those parts, where it lighteth; this most commonly riseth of the melancholy excrement before said, and diverse times of the other thick part of blood; as also of Choler, and salt phlegm: which take such heat, partly by distemper of the body, and partly by putrefaction that thereby a humour riseth, breeding most terrible accidents to the mind, and painful to the body: which the melancholic and gross blood, doth more forcibly procure: in that that any heat, the grosser the substance is, wherein it is received, the more fiercely it consumeth: whereupon the seacole giveth more vehement heat, than charcoal: and the coal than the flame: and a cautery of hot iron, than a burning firebrand Otherwise choler being by nature of the hottest temper, carrieth with it, more quality of heat then the other: but by reason the substance of the humour is more subtle and rare, the less it appeareth: &, as the heat of a flame in comparison of the other, more speedily passeth. Hitherto have I declared unto you all the kinds of melancholy, and causes of each of them: hereafter you shall understand, how they work these fearful effects in the mind, whereby the heart is made heavy, the spirits dulled, the cheerful countenance altered into mourning, and life itself, which the nature of all things most desireth, made tedious unto persons thus afflicted.   

CHAP. IX. How melancholy worketh fearful passions in the mind.  
BEFORE I declare unto you how this humour afflicteth the mind: first it shall be necessary for you to understand, what the familiarity is betwixt mind and body: how it affecteth it, and how it is affected of it again. You know, God first created all things subject to the course of times, and corruption of the earth, after that he had distinguished the confused mass of things, into the heavens, & the four elements. This earth he had endued with a fecundity of infinite seeds of all things: which he commanded it, as a mother, to bring forth, and as it is most agreeable to their nature, to entertain with nourishment, that which it had borne, & brought forth: whereby when he had all the furniture of this inferior world, of these creatures, some he fixed there still, and maintaineth the seeds, till the end of all things, and that determinate time, which he hath ordained, for the emptying of those seeds of creatures, which he first endued the earth withal. Other some, that is to say, the animals, he drew wholly from the earth at the beginning, and planted seed in them only, and food from other creatures: as beasts, and man in respect of his body: the difference only this: that likely it is, man's body was made of purer mould, as a most precious tabernacle and temple, wherein the image of God should afterward be enshrined: and being form as it were by God's proper hand, received a greater dignity of beauty, and proportion, and stature erect: thereby to be put in mind whither to direct the religious service of his Creator. This tabernacle thus wrought, as the gross part yielded a mass for the proportion to be framed of: so had it by the blessing of God, before inspired, a spiritual thing of greater excellency, than the red earth, which offered itself to the eye only. This is that which Philosophers call the spirit: which spirit, so prepareth that work to the receiving of the soul, that with more agreement, the soul, and body, have grown into acquaintance: and is ordained of God, as it were a true love knot, to couple heaven & earth together; yea a more divine nature, than the heavens with a base clod of earth: which otherwise would never have grown into society: and hath such indifferent affection unto both, that it is to both equally affected, and communicateth the body and corporal things with the mind, and spiritual, and intelligible things, after a sort with the body: saving sometimes by vehemency of either's action, they seem to be distracted, and the mind to neglect the body: and the body and bodily actions common with other creatures, to refuse as it were for a moment that community whereby it cometh to pass, that in vehement contemplations, men see not, that which is before their eyes: neither hear, though noise be at the air and sound: nor feel, which at other time (such bent of the mind being remitted) they should perceive the sense of, with pleasure or pain. This spirit is the chief instrument, and immediate, whereby the soul bestoweth the exercises of her faculty in her body, that passeth to and fro in a moment, nothing in swiftness & nimbleness being comparable thereunto: which when it is depraved by any occasion, either rising from the body: or by other means, then becometh it an instrument unhandsome for performance of such actions, as require the use thereof: and so the mind seemeth to be blame worthy: wherein it is blameless: and fault of certain actions imputed thereunto: wherein the body and this spirit are rather to be charged, things corporal and earthly: the one, in substance, and the other in respect of that mixture, wherewith the Lord tempered the whole mass in the beginning. And that you may have greater assurance in reason of this corporal inclination of spirit, consider how it is nourished: and with more evidence, it shall so appear unto you. It is maintained by nourishments, whether they be of the vegetable, or animal kind: which creatures, afford not only their corporal substance; but a spiritual matter also: wherewith every nourishment, more or less is endued: this spirit of theirs, is (as similitude of nature, more nighly approacheth) altered more speedily, or with larger travel of nature. Of all things of ordinary use, the most speedy alteration is of wine: which in a moment repaireth our spirits, and reviveth us again, being spent with heaviness: or any otherwise whatsoever, our natural spirits being diminished: which bread, and flesh, doth in longer time: being of slower passage, and their spirits not so subtle, or at least fettered as it were in a more gross body: and without this spirit, no creature could give us sustentation. For it is a knot, to join both our souls and bodies together: so nothing of other nature can have corporal conjunction with us; except their spirits with ours first grow into acquaintance: which is more speedily done a great deal, than the increase of the firm substance: which you may evidently perceive in that we are ready to faint, for want of food; after a little taken into the stomach of refreshing, before any concoction can be half reform, the strength returneth, and the spirit reviveth, and sufficient contentment seemeth to be given to nature: which notwithstanding, not fully so satisfied, prepareth farther the aliment of firm substance, and spirits of purer sort, for the continual supply of those ingenerate, for sense & motion, life & nourishment. Now although these spirits rise from earthly creatures; yet are they more excellent, than earth, or the earthy parts of those natures, from which they are drawn; and rise from that divine influence of life, and are not of themselves earthy: neither yet comparable in pureness & excellency, unto that breath of life, wherewith the Lord made Adam a living soul, which proceeded not from any creature, that he had before made, as the life of beasts and trees; but immediately from himself, representing in some part the character of his image. So then these three we have in our nature to consider distinct, for the clearer understanding of that I am to entreat of: the body of earth: the spirit from virtue of that spirit, which did as it were hatch that great egg of Chaos: & the foul inspired from God, a nature eternal and divine, not fettered with the body, as certain Philosophers have taken it: but handfasted therewith, by that golden clasp of the spirit: whereby, one, (till the predestinate time be expired, and the body become unmeet for so pure a spouse) joyeth at, and taketh liking of the other. Now as it is not possible to pass from one extreme to an other, but by a mean; and no mean is there in the nature of man, but spirit: by this only the body affecteth the mind: and the body and spirits affected, partly by disorder, and partly through outward occasions, minister discontentment as it were to the mind: and in the end break that band of fellowship, wherewith they were both linked together. This affecting of the mind, I understand not to be any impairing of the nature thereof; or decay of any faculty therein; or shortening of immortality; or any such infirmity inflicted upon the soul from the body (for it is far exempt from all such alteration): but such a disposition, and such discontentment, as a false stringed lute, giveth to the musician: or a rough and evil fashioned pen, to the cunning writer: which only obscureth, the show of either art, and nothing diminisheth of that faculty, which with better instruments, would fully content the eye with a fair hand; & satisfy the ear with most pleasant and delectable harmony. Otherwise the soul receiveth no hurt from the body; it being spiritual, and void of all passion of corporal things; and the other gross, earthy, and far unable to annoy a nature of such excellency.   

CHAP. X. How the body affecteth the soul.  
IN this sort then are you to conceive me, touching those actions, which the body seemeth to offer violence to the soul; in that no alteration of substance, or nature, can rise there from, nor any blemish of natural faculty, or decay of such qualities, as are essential unto the soul: otherwise, might it in the end perish, and destroy that immortal nature; which can not by any means decay, but by the same power which created it. But thus only do (as I may so call them) passions force the soul; even through the evil disposed instrument of the body, they deprave the most excellent and most perfect actions, whereto the soul is bend in the whole order of man's nature, and by corruption of the Spirits, which should be the sacred band of unity, cause such mislike, as the soul, without that mediation, disdaineth the bodies longer fellowship, and betaketh itself, to that contemplation, whereto it is by nature inclined; and giveth over the gross, and mechanical actions of the body, whereto, by order of creation, it was allotted in the earthly tabernacle. But you will say unto me, experience seemeth to declare a further passion of the soul from the body than I mention: for we see what issues, bodily things, and the body itself drive our minds unto: as some kind of music, to heaviness; other some to cheerfulness; other some to compassion; other some to rage; other to modesty; and other to wantonness: likewise of visible things, certain stir us to indignation and disdain; and other to contentedness, and good liking. In like manner certain natures taken inward, move us to mirth: as wine; and other to heaviness; some to rage, fury and frenzy; and other some to dullness & heaviness of spirit: as certain poisons in both kinds do manifest these passions unto us; besides such as rise of our humours bred in our own bodies; which may be reasons, to one not well advised, so to mistake these effects of corporal things, as though the soul received farther impression, not only in affection, but also in understanding, than I have unto you mentioned: for satisfying of you, in which doubts, you are diligently to consider, what I shall declare, concerning the several actions of body, soul and spirit, and how, each one of these performeth their actions: which must be kept distinct, for better understanding of that I shall hereafter in this discourse lay open unto you. And first, concerning the actions of the soul: you remember how it was first made by inspiration from God himself, a creature immortal, proceeding from the eternal; with whom there is no mortality. The end of this creation was, that being united to the bodily substance, raised and furnished with corporal faculties from the earth, common with other living creatures, there might rise a creature of middle nature betwixt Angels, & beasts, to glorify his name. This the soul doth, by two kinds of actions: the one kind, is such as it exerciseth, separated from the body; which are contemplations of God, in such measure as he is by natural instinct opened unto it, with reverent recognisance of such blessings, as by creation it is endued with. Next unto God, whatsoever within compass of her conceit is immortal, without tediousness, or travel, and with spiritual joy incomparable. These actions she is busied with in this life, so long as she inhabiteth her earthly tabernacle; neither in such perfection, nor yet so freely, as she doth separated, and the knot loosed betwixt her and the body, being withdrawn, by actions exercised with corporal instrument, of baset sort. These are the other kind which the soul, by the creators law is subject unto, for the continuance of the creature, and maintenance of the whole nature, with duties thereto belonging; animal, vital, natural; and whatsoever mixed, requireth jointly ●ll three; as this corporal praising of God for his goodness, and praying unto him for necessities, relieving our brother's want, and defending him from wrong; with every ones several vocation, wherein his peculiar charge lieth; whether it be in peace, or in war; at home, or abroad, with our countrymen, or with strangers; in our own famelies, or with our neighbours; whether it be superiority of commandment, or duty of obedience: which differ in degree, as they be nigher, or farther of the actions peculiar to the soul; or communicate more, or less with them. If you say unto me; how cometh it to pass, that the soul being of so single, and divine a nature, as the creation manifestly showeth, intermeddleth with so gross actions, as are common, not only with bruit beasts; as sense, motion and appetite; but even also with natures of far inferior condition, as plants, and minerals: whereby it seemeth, that, either the soul is not of such excellency, as in truth it is; or else that our nature consisteth of three souls, to which several faculties, and actions are allotted. By deeper consideration of the nature of the soul, this objection may be easily answered. The soul, as the substance thereof is most pure, and perfect, and far of removed from corruption; so it is endued with faculties of like quality, pure, immortal and answerable to so divine a subject; & carrieth with it, an instinct science, gotten, neither by precept, nor practise; but naturally therewith furnished; whereby it is able, with one universal, and simple faculty, to perform so many varieties of actions, as the instrument, by which it performeth them, carrieth an apt inclination thereto: as the brain being an instrument of conceit, it therewith conceiveth: the eye to see, it seethe: the ear to hear, it heareth: and so the instrument of smelling, and taste, wanting nothing of their natural disposition, the soul smelleth with, & discerneth tastes: which otherwise disposed, it can not show that ingenerate instinct, by outward senses, the faculty yet notwithstanding remaining entire and untouched: I say the faculty, and not faculties. For if we plant so many faculties in the soul, as there be outward, and inward actions performed by us, it certainly could not be simple, but needs must receive variety of composition; to answer so many faculties, as we see insensible creatures; which as they work diversly, so have they diverse varieties of substance, of which sort among many other is Aloe, Rhubarb, and divers simples, that with one part of their substance, lose, and open; and with the other stop and stay; the same also is sensible in coleworts and Cabbages; and in the substance of shell fisbes: whose decoction looseth the body, and procureth soliblenes; their substance being of a quite contrary operation: which riseth of a diverse tempered substance in one nature, compounded of such variety, whereof as the soul together uniform, is void, so can it not possess any variety of faculty. This if it seem strange unto you, considering the diverse sorts of actions, and the unlikelines of performance of so many, and so diverse; I will as I may in a matter, so difficult, & above the reach of any similitude of visible creature (except itself) only by comparison, make the assertion more plain. Compare the skill of painting, with this simple and uniform faculty of the soul: the faculty is simple and one, and yet cold Apelles therewith use both the gross, & the small pencil; he could draw a line evident to the eye a far of, and so subtle, that scarce might it be discerned nigh at hand; he could apply himself by his uniform faculty, to all the parts of Venus' beauty: otherwise must it of necessity follow, that so many instruments of painting as he used, so many kinds of lines as he could draw, and so many parts as he could counterfeit; the eye, the nose, the mouth, etc., so many sundry faculties of painting had he; which to a man not destitute of the faculty of reason, must needs seem most absurd. The same appeareth in the art of music, which being attained unto, but one faculty, yet is it the same: in all the kinds of moods & variety of tune, and time: although the practice be diverse. Even so, the soul hath a faculty one, single, and essential, notwithstanding so many and sundry parts are performed, in the organical bodies, as we daily put in practice: neither is it hereof to be gathered, that the soul affordeth no more actions, than there be instruments: for both her proper actions, require none, and the other common with the body, by diverse using and applying of the same instrument, are manifold and sundry, and the more sundry, the more general the instrument is, and pliable, to diverse uses: even so, as the soul, in organical actions, useth one and the self same instrument to changeable offices; likewise being separated from the body, although the faculty be one, it also exerciseth of herself, without instrument, from one faculty, divers duties. And thus have you my opinion touching the actions of the soul, either considered, separate: or conjoined with the body: and being joined thereunto, such as it exerciseth of itself: or by those organical means as the body affordeth: it remaineth, next to entreat of the spirit, and of the body, with their several actions. Of such organs, as the soul useth for instrumental actions, some are of substance, & nature most quick, rare, and subtle: other some gross, slow, & earthy, more, or less. The subtle instrument, is the spirit: which is the most universal instrument of the soul, and embraceth at full, so far as bodily uses require, all the universal faculty, wherewith the soul is endued, and directeth it, and guideth it, unto more particular instruments, for more special and private uses, as to the eye, to see with; to the ear to hear; to the nose to smell; to the bowels, stomach, and liver, to nourish, to the heart, to maintain life: and to other parts, to the end of propagation: this is all performed by the self same, one, and single spirit. If you demand whereof this spirit is made? I take it, to be an effectual, and pregnant substance, bred in all things, at what time the spirit of the Lord did, as it were, hatch, and breed out all living things, out of that Chaos mentioned in the Genesis; which Chaos, as it was matter of corporal, and palpable substance to all things: so did it also, minister this lively spirit unto them, diverse and several, according to the diversity of those seeds, which God endued it withal: to some more pure: to other some more gross, according to the excellency of the creature, and dignity of the uses, whereto it is to be employed: from this power of God, sprang the spirit of man, as I take it, raised from the earth, together with the body, whereby it received such furniture, and preparation; as it becometh a lodging, for so noble a gest, except it may seem more likely, to be infused, and inspired, into the body, with that breath of life, which was the soul of man, at what time, god had first made his corpse, of the mould of the earth; which I for certain reasons here following am moved to make doubt of. First, although it be an excellent creature, and far exceedeth the gross substance of our body; yet is it base, then to be attributed to so divine a beginning, as from God immediately; especially considering it hath not only beginning; but perisheth also: to which condition, nothing that proceedeth from God in such special manner, as the soul did, can be subject unto. Again, we see this spirit maintained, and nourished by the use of earthly creatures; and is either plentiful, or scanteth; as it hath want, or abundance of such corporal nourishment. Now to draw the original offspring of the spirit of man from God, were in a manner to draw from him the spirit of all other things, wherewith that of man is relieved: which can not be accounted to flow from that breathing of God; both seeing the Scripture pronounceth it, as peculiar to the soul of man: and otherwise, should they be not inferior in that respect, to the souls of men; which by nature, are set under his feet; and in all respects are far inferior unto him: that I mention not, too nigh approaching the majesty of God: which without impair thereof, admitteth not so nigh, the access of the nature of inferior creatures; honouring mankind therewith only of all his visible works. Thus then, as I take it, both the spirit had his first beginning, and is of such nature as I have declared; and serveth for these uses. I know commonly there are accounted three spirits: animal, vital, and natural: but these are in deed, rather distinctions of diverse offices of one spirit; then diversity of nature. For as well might they make as many as there be several parts, and offices in the body; which were both false, & superfluous. Next ensueth the nature of the body, and his several instruments, with their uses; which my purpose is here so far to touch, as it concerneth the understanding of that ensueth of my discourse: leaving the large handling thereof to that most excellent hymn of Galen. Touching the use of the parts: the body being of substance gross, & earthy; resembleth the matter whereof it was made: and is distinct into diverse members, and diverse parts, for several uses required, partly of nature, and partly of the human society of life: whereupon, the brain is the chief instrument of sense, and motion, which it deriveth by the spirit before mentioned, into all the parts of the body; as also of thoughts, and cogitations, performed by common sense, and fantasy: and storing up as it were, that which it hath conceived in the chest of memory: all which the brain itself with farther communication exerciseth alone. The heart is the seat of life, and of affections, and perturbations, of love, or hate, like, or dislike; of such things as fall within compass of sense; either outward, or inward; in effect, or imagination only. The liver the instrument of nourishment, & groweth: & is served of the stomach by appetite of meats and drinks; and of other parts, with lust of propagation: & as the heart, by arteries conveyeth life to all parts of the body: so the liver, by veins distributeth her faculties to every member; thereby the body enjoying nourishment, & increase, served with natural appetite, whereby each part satisfieth itself with that, which thereto is most agreeable. And these actions are bodily performed of the soul, by employing that excellent, and catholic instrument of spirit, to the mechanical works of the gross, and earthy parts of our bodies. Thus than the whole nature of man, being compounded of two extremities, the soul, and the body: and of the mean of spirits: the soul receiveth no other annoyance by the body; then the crafts man by his instrument: with no impeach, or impair of cunning: but an hindrance of exercising the excellent parts of his skill: either when the instrument is altogether unapt, and serveth for no use: or in part only fit; whereby actions, and effects are wrought, much inferior to the faculty of the worker: & as the instrument is of more particular use, so is the soul the less impeached: and as more general, so yet more hindered: both from variety, and perfection of action: as the heart, more than the liver: and the liver, more than the brain: the stomach more than the rest of the entrails: and all public parts, more than private: of which sort the spirit being disordered, either in temper, or lessened in quantity, or intermixed with strange vapours, and spirits, most of all, worketh annoyance, and disgraceth the work, and crosseth the soul's absolute intention: as shall more particularly appear in the process of my discourse: which that it may yield unto you full answer of such doubts, as may arise unto you, and make question of the truth of this point: I will myself set down such objections, as may encounter the credit thereof, and answer them, I hope, to your satisfying.   

CHAP. XI. Objections against the former sentence, touching the manner how the soul is affected of the body: with answer thereto.  
THE objections which seem to enforce upon the body farther power over the soul, then to withstand the organical actions, are such, as are taken from the disposition of our bodies, both in health, and in sickness. In health, we see how the mind altereth in appearance, not only in action, but also in faculty: both in that some faculties spring up, which before were not: and those through occasions of change of the body either more perfect, then otherwise they have been, or would be. This appeareth in age, and in diverse order of diet, and custom of sensual & sensible things. First touching age and years: we see in childhood, how childish the mind beareth itself, in faculty incomparable to that which afterward it showeth: as the understanding dull: the wit of blunter conceit: memory slippery: and judgement scarce appeareth. The body growing up, and attaining at length the height of his increase, all these gifts, more and more grow up therewith: and (even as the body) get maturity, and strength, which is the perfection in their kind. Again the body passing the point of his vigour and virility of age, turneth all the wits and sage counsels, into more than childish doring: by which alterations and changes, in appearance the mind both suffereth detriment, and again receiveth greater ability of faculty. Neither is this only brought to pass through process of years: but also it may seem that certain faculties, which before were not, at a season of age, put forth, and advance themselves, which before gave no countenance of show: and, except we shall make nature keep idle holy day, in them were not at all: as the faculty of propagation, of all natural sorts, one of the chiefest: which, if we say it slept, as it were in the mind, or waited a day: it should seem very ridiculous, that nature should be furnished so many years with a faculty, which it should put in practice so long after: especially considering how particular faculties attend only upon single and particular uses, and have no-other employing. If it were not before, then either should the mind be imperfect at the first, wanting some part of the furniture: or else should it seem to rise of the temper of the body: either of which, attribute more unto the body, then of right thereto belongeth: and calleth in question the immortality of the soul: except you will say, it is a faculty, whereof the soul hath no part, being common with brute beasts: which carrieth with it these absurdities. First, this faculty must needs have her seat, either in soul or body: if it be not in soul, then in body: if in body; then should the instrument possess the faculty, which is as one would attribute the faculty of the harmony to the harp, and the writing to the pen, and not to the scrivener: esteeming the skilful harps, and skilful pens, which are dead instruments, and have no being of motion in themselves. Now middle subject is there none, whereto this faculty should fall, except we will vainly, and against reason and philosophy admit more souls than one in our bodies. Again, to place any faculty otherwise then of disposition, and aptness, in the body, without the soul, were to disturb the uniform government, and that economical order, whereby our nature is ruled; in placing more commanders than one. So we see, how age, and course of times affect the body, not only by alteration of faculty, as it should seem, but also, by breeding new. Now the order of life, region, and diet, seem to press the matter further: and as it were, to turn the mind about, with every blast of corporal change. We may observe the nature of mariners, occupied in the sea surges, who have their manners not much unlike framed, tempestuous and stormy: likewise the villager, who busieth himself about his plough, and cattle only, hath his wits of no higher conceit: butchers acquainted with slaughter, are accounted thereby to be of a more cruel disposition: and therefore amongst us are discharged from juries of life & death: these experiences maintain the quarrel, against the unmovable, and unchangeable faculty of the soul, whereof I have before made mention. How region, and air make demonstration of the same, the comparison of the gentle, and constant air of Asia, with the sharp & unstable of Europe, doth declare unto us: whereby the Asians are mild, and gentle, unfit for war, and given to subjection: the Europians, naturally, rough, hardy, stern, right martial imps, and harder to be subdued, and ranged under obedience: and of the same region, such people as inhabit places barren, open, and dry, and subject to mutability of weather, are more fierce, bolder, sharp, and obstinate in opinion, than people of contrary habitation. Neither hath diet less part in this case of affecting the soul, than the rest: for we see, how the cheerful fruit of the vine maketh the heart merry, and giveth (with moderation used) an edge of wit, and quickness to the spirits: and those nourishmentes that are moist, gross, and not firmly compacted, aggravateth the understanding, and maketh the conceit blunt, and disableth much the faculties of the mind: which a thinner, drier, and more subtle food doth entertain. To these objections may be added, what alteration of mind, diversity of complexion, & excess of the four humours; choler, phlegm, blood, and melancholy do procure, not only to the affections, as sanguine cheerfulness, melancholic sadness, phlegm heaviness, & choler anger: but to the wits, and such faculties as approach nigher to the sovereign parts of our nature, the mind itself: as choler procureth rashness, and unadvisedness, with mobility & unstableness of purpose: melancholy contrarily, pertinacy, with advised deliberation: sanguine simplicity: and phlegm flat foolishness: and these are, so far as my memory serveth me, all that is wont to be objected from the state of our bodies, being in health, against the perpetual, & immovable tranquillity of our minds, and immortal, unchangeable, and incorruptible faculties thereof: which all in the next Chapter, I will satisfy with full answer: now a few words touching the perturbarions, and alterations through sickness: and so will I end this Chapter, and in the next proceed to several answers. I myself have observed it diverse times, not only perturbation of mind to arise by certain diseases, whereby it fancieth, and reasoneth disorderly: but some faculties even amended by the same (neither faculties of base action) as for the eye, to see clearer after an inflammation: and convulsions to be helped by agues: and in fevers, the hearing more quick than before, and the smelling more subtle: and in frantic persons, the strength doubled upon them: but also even apprehension more perfect, and memory amended, and deliverance of tale more free, and eloquent without all comparison: which are actions of the greatest organical practices of the mind: in such sort that I have known children languishing of the spleen, obstructed, and altered in temper, talk with gravity and wisdom, surpassing those tender years, and their judgement carrying a marvelous imitation of the wisdom of the ancient, having after a sort, attained that by disease, which other have by course of years: whereupon I take it, the proverb ariseth: that they be of short life, who are of wit so pregnant: because their bodies do receive by nature so speedy a ripeness, as thereby age is hastened, through a certain temper of their bodies, either the whole, or in some animal part: which ripeness as in other creatures, it easily yieldeth to rottenness, so in our nature, that speedy maturity hasteth to declination, and sooner decayeth. Thus for your full satisfying, I have called to mind such objections, as do chief give check unto that which I have propounded touching the passions which the body chargeth the soul with: now shall you understand the solution, & clearing of these doubts. If you will descend into the consideration of the effects of poisons in our natures, as of henbane, coriander, hemlock, night shade, and such like, they will give greater evidence unto that which these objections import: by which the mind seemeth greatly to be altered, & quite put beside the reasonable use of her ingenerate faculties during the force of the poisons: which being mastered, or at least rebated, by convenient remedies, it recovereth those gifts, whero fit was in danger to suffer wrack before: and if it be true which Plato affirmeth, that common wealths alter by change of music, what stableness shall we account in the mind, which is in this sort subject to every blast of change?   

CHAP. XII. The answer to the former objections and of the simple faculty of the soul and only organical of spirit, and body.  
THESE doubts before mentioned, I will answer in such order as they were in the former chapter objected: beginning with those alterations, which the soul seemeth to sustain from the body, while it enjoyeth health, and good state of all his parts: of which sort age & years first infer against us. For the general answer whereof, as also for the rest, we are to hold two points, as unfallible, before mentioned: the one, is the simple faculty of the mind: and the other, the organical use only of the body and spirit: which two grounds, before I enter into the particular disciphiring of the objections, I will first establish by reason, and then apply them to the particular solution of that which hath been objected. First, the simplicity of the nature of the soul, more simple than the heavens, argueth unity of faculty: seeing all simple things by nature reject mixture and composition, and whatsoever tendeth to plurality. For, whatsoever is more, is diverse, diversity, simple things embrace not, neither doth diversity of nature admit so nigh copulation, as to settle themselves in the self same simple, & uniform subject: which if they refuse to do, what shall we judge then of will, and appetite repugnant to reason: and will sometime at variance with animal appetite? how can these so contrary faculties concur in one single nature? That, simple things receive neither contrariety, nor diversity, the consideration of the whole sort of dissentanie, and disagreeing things, will make the matter manifest. All of that kind are either such as we call diverse, or opposite: diverse, whose disagreement is most gentle, have notwithstanding such strife, that they meet not in the self same subject at any time: as beauty, and wisdom, riches, and honesty: which have their diverse rooms in the same general nature, and do not one farther encounter the other. The other, have one single subject, if they be of accidentary natures, or qualities: and there one expelleth the other: enduring no society: as virtue, vice, liberality, covetousness, and prodigality: black, blue, yellow, and green: light, darkness, etc. And these are at perpetual war, & admit no truce day, no not for a minute, & so, because they will needs possess the same place, expel each other, and are in Logic termed, Opposites. Now then whatsoever the soul simple, individual, & without mixture or compositiongiveth entertainment of disagreeing natures, must of necessity fall into one of these: that is, to the opposite or diverse. The opposite require, their own times, and will not accord in the same subject at once, except you will account relatives of a milder disposition, & more sociable than their fellows which notwithstanding by the diverse respect, are as far disjoined as the rest. Now then, if we hold that the mind hath diverss faculties, then of necessity must there be in the same mind diversity of subject: which if there be, then is the simplicity thereof turned into multiplicity of substance, and composition of nature: a disposition contrary both to the manner of the beginning of the soul void of mixture, and that immortal perpetuity, wherewith it is induced. Peradventure it may seem strange, and repugnant to the nature of things diverse, to dissever them of subject, seeing softness and whiteness, white and heat, and such like, being diverse enter into the same subject: as in snow, the one and the other in molten lead, or hot iron: which doubt, because it serveth for proof of this unity of faculty, I will lay open, and make plain unto you. Of all things subject to corruption, the elements are most simple, which being diversly mixed, yield the variety, we see of all compound things under heaven: these have each of them, but one quality: fire hot, air moist, earth dry, and water cold, if they should have twain, then must they needs either enter communicate, or two qualities concur with the first matter: entercommunication is there none: for than should they not be the elements of other things seeing they should be elements one of each other: two qualities make superfluities in the mixed, which nature escheweth in all her work: then superfluity would be here in that there should in the compound be found a dryness of fire, and the like of earth: a coldness of the earth, and the like of water: and so in the heat of fire, & air: which were more than need: seeing such qualities are sufficiently imparted to the compound by one. Now if the elements which after a sort receive composition of a gross matter and form, do admit no diverse quality, much less doth the mind of a more pure beginning, and simple substance, reject the same. But how then cometh it to pass, that a coal is black and hard, & chalk hard and white, in the same part throughout, if diversities settle no nigher together? yea very well notwithstanding. For compounded things, though they make one nature, yet are they not by reason of composition in all parts alike, neither are the elements so confused in the mixture but in all parts they may be found distinct by their qualities simple or compound: which qualities although they be commonly attributed to the whole, yet properly and chiefly, belong they to the elements whereof the whole consists: so that in one nature, diversity of subject is to be considered. Example shall make it plain: The heat of pepper riseth of the fiery element; the dryness and solidity, of substance which it hath of the earthy. In Rhubarb the purging virtue riseth of the subtle substance, & the strengthening faculty of the gross and earthy. Chalk is white of the airy moisture which it is endued with: and hath his hardness of a earthy dryness. The rose her redness of a certain temper of single moistness, concocted with heat: and her smell, of an airy moistness mixed with an earthy dryness, attenuated with heat, and virtue of the fiery element? So we see diverse things, which seem to fall into one universal nature or subject, the matter being more narrowly vined, betake them to their own subject, proper and peculiar unto themselves, and only by communicating their substance with the whole, endue it also with like qualities. But you will say: if the elements have but one quality (which first was affirmed to the mainteynance of single faculty) then is not the element of fire dry, nor of water moist, nor of air warm. True: neither are they of their own natures such: but that which is in fire beside heat, is only an absence of moistness: in the earth accounted cold, is an absence only of heat: in the rest likewise, and not an ingenerate quality: more than heaven may be said to be moist, because it is not dry or hot, because it is not cold: which indifferently refuseth all such kind of quality. Now an absence of one quality, is not strait way an inferring of the other: but only in privants, whereof the one is a mere absence, and of that contrary only, which naturally should be present: as blindness is not rightly said of a stone, though it see not at any time. In the elementary qualities, it is not so: but they are all qualities importing a presence: because they adjoined to the first matter of things, are the only forms of elements: now absence formeth nothing, and privants are always contrary to form and nature: It appeareth then, that elements which are less simple than the souls of men are endued but with one faculty, and that diverse things require a diverse peculiar seat, which being taken up in such natures as will abide mixture, seem as though they were of the whole mixed, when as but after a sort only they are so to be accounted. These two points being sufficiently proved establish evidently the simple and uniform faculties of the soul: For hereby it is most manifest that by reason of the simple nature thereof, it cannot bear any mixture, or be support of diverse things: neither that diverse will so neighbour it together, as to dwell in one individual subject. Then seeing that they which of all the disagreers, lest disagree, will not so nighly be linked: neither can any diversity of faculty in the mind, in a nature so simple, and impartible be coupled together, where there is no disagreement of substance, nor dissent of mixture, but every part like the whole, and each like other. Again these pluralities being essential, can be but one: seeing essence is not many, and nature always far unlike the sword of Delphos; which served for diverse uses, ever employeth one to one, and not to many: otherwise want should enforce her, which (she abounding with sufficiency) refuseth in all her actions. Moreover being in every part like itself, and each part like other, no dissimilitude can arise by distinction of faculty. Accidental if they be: then is the mind in danger of losing all faculty, which it cannot do seeing it is subject to no force, but of God himself that made it. Now whatsoever natural faculty in any thing fadeth, it is by reason the thing first fadeth which enjoyeth that faculty: else would they always continue: wherefore the mind being everlasting, and exempt from change and corruption, her faculty is also essential, and of like perpetuity: I need not yield reason why contrary faculties, or such as we call disparates in logic, can have no room in a nature so simple as the soul is, both in respect of the repugnance within themselves, and unity of the subject: seeing such as are diverse only refuse that cohabitation and neighbourhood. Thus much shall suffice to prove the simple faculty of the soul: it followeth to prove the spirit and body to be wholly organical: by organical I mean a disposition & aptness only, without any free work or action, otherwise then at the minds commandment: else should there be more beginnings & causes of action than one, in one nature: which popularity of administration, nature will none of, nor yet with any holygarcicall or mixed: but commandeth only by one sovereignty: the rest being vassals at the beck of the sovereign commander. The kinds of instruments are of two sorts: the one dead in itself, and destitute of all motion: as a saw before it be moved of the workman, and a ship before it be stirred with wind, and hoist of sail: the other sort is lively, and carrieth in itself aptness, and disposition of motion: as the hound to hunt with, and the hawk to fowl with, both carried with hope of prey: the hand, to move at our pleasure, and to use any other kind of instrument or tool. The second sort of these twain, is also to be distinguished in twain, whereof the one obtaineth power in itself, and requireth derection only, as the beast, and fowl above mentioned: and the other not only direction, but impulsion also from an inward virtue, and forcible power: as the motion of the hand, and the variety of the hand actions do most evidently declare. Of these three kinds of instruments, I place the spirit and body both to the mind, as the saw or axe in the workman's hand, or to the lute touched of the Musician (according to the sundry qualities & conditions of the instruments of the body) in the third sort; but so, as the spirit, in comparison of the body, fareth as the hand to the dead instruments. Of the first sort they are not, because they partake of life: of the second they may not be, because of themselves they have no impulsion, as it appeareth evidently in animal and voluntary actions, and (although more obscurely to be seen) in such as be called natural. For the spirit being either withdrawn from the outward parts by vehement passion of grief, or over prodigally scattered by joy, or wasted by pain, the outward parts not only fail in their sense and motion, but even nourishment & growth thereby are hindered: and contrarily, though the spirit be present, except the part be also well disposed, not only feeling is impaired, & such actions as require sense and motion, but also concoction and nourishment. Again, the spirit itself without impulsion of mind lieth idle in the body. This appeareth in animal actions more plainly: as the mind employing vehemently the spirit an other way, we neither see that is set before our eyes, nor hear, nor feel that which otherwise with delight, or displeasure, would vehemently affect us. In natural actions and parts, it is more obscure: either because the spirit can not be altogether so separated by the order of nature, being rooted so in the part, or because the very presence of the soul in an organical body, without further faculty or action, carrieth the life withal, and is not subject to arbitrement and will: as the royal estate of a Prince, moveth silence, reverence, and expectation, although there be no charge, or commandment thereof given, nor such purpose of presence: so life lieth rather in the essence, or substance of the soul, giving it to a fit organed body; rather then by any such faculty resident therein. except we may think that less portion of spirit serveth for life only, then for life, sense, and motion, & so the parts, contented with smaller provision thereof, are entertained with life, though sense and moving require more plenty. But howsoever this be obscure in natural actions, the mind transporting the spirits another way by sudden conceit, study or passion. yet most certain it is, if it hold on long, and release not, the nourishment will also fail, the increase of the body diminish, and the flower of beauty fade, and finally death take his fatal hold: which cometh to pass, not only by expense of spirit, but by leaving destitute the parts, whereby declining to decay, they become at length unmeet for the entertainment of so noble an inhabitant as is the soul, of stock divine, of immortal perpetuity, and exempt from all corruption. Then seeing neither body, nor spirit are admitted in the first, or second sort of instruments, they fall to the third kind, which being lively, or at the least apt for life, require direction, and also foreign impulsion: foreign, in respect of themselves, destitute of faculty, otherwise then disposition: but inward and domestical, in that it proceedeth from a natural power, (resident in these corporal members) which we call the soul: not working as ingens, by a force void of skill and cunning in itself, & by a motion given by devise of the Mechenist: but far otherwise endued with science, & possessed of the mover: as if Architas had been himself within his flying doves, & Vulcanne within his walking stools, and the moving engine as it were animated with the mind of the worker, therein excelling far all industry of art. For here the natural Apelles painteth as well within as without; and Phydias is no less curious in polishing the entrails, and parts withholden from the view, then in garnishing the outward appearance, and show of his frame: and which is yet more, here the craft's man entereth himself into all the parts of the work, and never would relinquish the same. Although we place the spirit and body in the third kind of instruments, yet is there great odds, betwixt these two. For the spirit answereth at full all the organical actions of the soul, & hath in it no distinction of members: the body is of more particular uses, compounded of sundry parts, each of them framed of peculiar duties, as the mind and spirit employeth them. The spirit is quick, nimble, and of marvelous celerity of motion; the body, slow, dull, and given to rest of itself: the spirit the very hand of the soul; the body & bodily members like flails, saws, or axes in the hand of him that useth them. For as we see God hath given us reason for all particular faculties, and hand for all instruments, of pleasure, of necessity, of offence, of defence, that thereby, although man be borne without covering, without teeth, without hoof or horn, only with tender nails, and those neither in fashion, nor temper fit for fight: yet he clotheth himself, both against the tempest warm, against force of weapon with coat of steel, and maketh unto himself weapons of war, no tush, no horn, no hoof, no snout of elephant in force comparable thereunto: so the spirits of our bodies, and this hand of our souls, though it be but one, yet handleth it all the instruments of our body: and it being light, subtle, and yielding, yet forceth it the heaviest, & grossest, & hardest parts of our bodies, chewing with the teeth, and striking with the fist, & bearing down with the thrust of shoulder, the resistance of that which standeth firm, and containing alone the force of all the members: seethe with the eye, heareth with the ears, understandeth organically with the brain, distributeth life with the heart, and nourishment with the liver, and whatsoever other bodily action is practised. This hand is applied to the gross instrument, and the effect brought to pass, yet not absolutely of itself, but by impulsion of the mind, which is placed the only agent, absolute and sovereign not only in respect of commanding, but also offacultie & execution. This place than beareth the spirits among the instruments; and as the soul is one, and endued with one only faculty, so the spirit is also one, and embraceth that one faculty, and distributeth it among the corporal members, as every one according to his diverse temper or frame, or both jointly together is meet this way or that way to be employed; yet so that by degrees, and diverse dispensations, it is communicated from the principal and chief parts with the rest. As first life and vital spirit, from the heart to the rest by arteries: nourishment and growth, from the liver by veins: sense and motion, from the brain by nerves: not confusedly, and by equal portions administered to all alike, but by such geometrical proportion as justice requireth, and is necessary for the office of every part. Thus you see what nature the spirit is of, and to what use it serveth in our nature, and of what sort of instrument it is to be accounted. The corporal part and mébers, because their services be many are distinct into diversity of shapes and tempers, to answer all turns; whereof some be more general, and bear as it were office over the rest; as the heart is most general, and extendeth itself to all the parts, with this prerogative above the liver: that a part may live for a time, and not be nourished, neither yet can any part be nourished without life. This rule it exerciseth by the ministry of his arteries extended in branches throughout the body, and scattering the spirit of life throughout. Next the heart in use and office towards other members, the liver obtaineth the second place: by whose virtue, through the operation of the soul, and that spiritual hand, nourishment, and preparation of aliment is performed in all the parts, upon whom attendeth the stomach & the rest of the entrails under the midriff. The third place is allotted to the brain, which by his sense and motion guideth, and directeth the parts maintained with life and nourishment: his sense is of two sorts, and so his motion, both inward, & outward. The inward sense, thinketh, imagineth and remembreth, and is practised with that peculiar temper and frame which the brain hath proper, as also his internal motion not much unlike the panting of the heart. The outward sense and motion of sinews is derived from it into all parts that require sense, or moving. The other parts subject to these three principal and their ministers serve their own turns only, and are of private condition; except the soul command a voluntary or mixed action: as to walk, to go etc. or to take breath, give passage of stool, or urine.   

CHAP. XIII. How the soul by one simple faculty performeth so many and diverse actions.  
Thus have you these parts, and organical uses distinct: and if it seem yet difficult unto you, to conceive, how one simple faculty can discharge such multiplicity of actions, way with me a little, by a comparison of similitude, the truth of this point, & accordingly accept it. We see it evident in automaticall instruments, as clocks, watches, and alarms, how one right and strait motion, through the aptness of the first wheel, not only causeth circular motion in the same, but in diverse others also: and not only so, but distinct in pace, and time of motion: some wheels passing swifter than other some, by diverse races: now to these devices, some other instrument added, as hammer, and bell, not only another right motion springeth thereof, as the stroke of the hammer, but sound also oft repeated, and delivered it at certain times by equal pauses; and that either larume or hours according as the parts of the clock are framed. To these if yet moreover a directory hand be added; this first, and simple, and right motion by weight or strain, shall seem not only to be author of deliberate sound, & to counterfeit voice, but also to point with the finger as much as it hath declared by sound. Besides these we see yet a third motion with reciprocation in the balance of the clock. So many actions diverse in kind rise from one simple first motion, by reason of variety of joints in one engine. If to these you add what wit can devise, you may find all the motion of heaven with his planets counterfeited, in a small modill, with distinction of time & season, as in the course of the heavenly bodies. And this appeareth in such sort as carry their motion within themselves. In water works I have seen a mill driven with the wind, which hath both served for grist, and avoiding of rivers of water out of drowned fens and marshes; which to an American ignorant of the devise, would seem to be wrought by a lively action of every part, and not by such a general mover as the wind is, which bloweth direct, & followeth not by circular motion of the mill sail. Now if this be brought to pass in artificial practices, & the variety of action infer not so many faculties, but mere dispositions of the instruments: let the similitude serve to illustrat that unto you, whereto the reasons before alleged, may with more force of proof induce you. If yet you be not satisfied, (for melancholic persons are for the most part doubtful and least assured) and although ye acknowledge the truth hereof in organical actions: yet in such as require no instrument, judge otherwise; that scruple also by a similitude, I will take away and make it plain unto you, referring you for strength of reason to that which hath been aforesaid. Before, I showed the variety of action, to spring of diversity of instrument; now, where there is no instrument, what diversity (say you) can there be? & yet to give but one action to the soul, were to deprive it of many goodly exercises, whereby it apprehendeth the creator, thankfully acknowledgeth his goodness, and directeth itself to his honour, besides those spiritual offices, which the souls departed out of this life, in love perform to each other, with that knowledge of eternal things? If you require reason of proof, the simplicity of the soul, and the nature of diverse things will make answer: if of illustration and comparison of similitude: then consider, how with one view, a man beholdeth both top, and bottom of height, and both ends of length at once, the situation of the thing being convenient thereunto; yet are there neither diverse faculties, nor diverse instruments: the Sun both ripeneth and withereth, and with an influence it bringeth forth metals, trees, herbs, & whatsoever springeth from the earth; some things it softeneth, and other some it hardeneth: other some it maketh sweet, and other some bitter: an hammer driveth in, and driveth out, it looseneth & fasteneth, it maketh & it marreth, not with diversity of faculty, keeping the same weight temper, and fashion it had before, but only diversly applied, and used upon diverse matters: so many uses arise of one instrument. Moreover, if a man were double fronted (as the Poets have feigned janus) & the instruments disposed thereafter, the same faculty of sight would address itself to see both before and behind at one instant, which now it doth by turning. As these actions of so sundry sorts require no diverse faculty, but change of subject, and altered application: so the mind, in action wonderful, and next unto the supreme majesty of God, and by a peculiar manner proceeding from himself, as the things are, subject unto the apprehension, & action thereof: so the same faculty varieth not by nature, but by use only, or diversity of those things whereto it apply itself: as the same faculty applied to differing things, discerneth: to things past, remembreth: to things future, foreseeth: of present things determineth: and that which the eye doth by turning of the head, beholding before, behind, and on each side, that doth the mind freely at once (not being hindered, nor restrained by corporal instrument) in judging, remembering, foreseeing, according as the things present themselves unto the consideration thereof. For place more than one, & where will you stay, and how will you number them? & why are there not as well three score, as three? If you measure them by kinds of actions, they are indefinite, and almost infinite, and can not bear any certain rate in our natures: seeing such as are voluntary, rise upon occasions, and necessity uncertain: and natural are diverse in every several part, and so according to their number are multiplied, and of them sundry actions being performed, as to attract, to concoct, to retain, to expel, to assimilate, agglutinate, etc. not generally, but the peculiar and proper nourishment, the number would fill up Erastosthenes siue to count them all. Wherefore to conclude this argument, and to leave you resolved in this point, let the faculty be one, and plurality in application, use, & diversity of those things whereabout it was conversant: otherwise the mind shallbe distracted into parts, which is whole in every part: and admit mixture, which is most simple: and become subject of diverse qualities, which are distinct in nature, and communicated by mixture of substances whereto they belong, & not confused together in one, against nature. Thus you have mine opinion touching these three parts: of soul, of spirit, and body, with their peculiar actions, and how every one is severally brought to pass: which I thought necessary first to make plain, before I entered into particular answer to the former objections, as the ground of the solution, and rule whereto the particular answers are to be squared. So then I take generally the soul to be affected of the body and spirit, as the instrument hindereth the work of the artificer; which is not by altering his skill, or diminishing his cunning, but by depraving the action through untowardness of tool, and fault of instrument. This in the Chapter following, I will particularly apply to the former objections.   

CHAP. XIIII. The particular answer to the objections made in the 11 Chapter.  
AS for those faculties which age seemeth not only to alter, but also to breed, they are altogether organical, and are not of this or that sort: or appear not, because, the faculty suffereth violence or wanteth, but because the instruments as yet lacked such disposition, as the soul requireth, being altogether unapt, or else although faulty in part, yet employed as they may be: whereupon the actions become imperfect. As the brain in a child new borne, overcharged with humidity causeth discretion of sensible objects for 40 days, as sayeth Hypocrates and Aristotle, to be so dull, that they feel not, though they be rubbed, neither laugh they, though they be tickled, as afterward they do both, and take pleasure in the one, and as we be affected after a mixed sort in the other: which obscurity of sense, joined with want of experience of sensible things, and comparing of their events, with want of exercise, is the chief cause of that simplicity of children in affairs of this life, wherein prudence is most conversant. For better conceiving of which point, you are to understand, or call to mind, how the soul hath certain principles of knowledge ingenerate, called Criteria of the Greeks, and certain taken from observation of sensible things, and from them framed, agreeably to those grounded principles and ingenerate knowledge of the soul. These Criteria discern betwixt good and bad, truth and falsehood, and are ever firm, and certain in themselves, and are abused only by the imperfection of such instruments, by which the discretion and report of outward objects do pass. From this do springe three several actions, whereby the whole course of reason is made perfect. First, that which the Greeks call Sinteresis, the ground, whereupon the practice of reason consisteth, answering the proposition in a syllogism: the conscience applying, the assumption: and of them both, the third, a certain truth concluded: these parts the soul doth without instrument of body, and never faileth therein, so far as the natural principles lead, or outward objects be sincerely taken, & truly reported to the minds consideration. From the practices of these ingenerate, & infallible grounds rise all the knowledge of outward things, and human sciences: and as a rule being but one ruleth equally gold, timber, and stone, and the balance peaseth all kind of weighty things alike, so these applied to practices of life, & worldly business, have engendered prudence, and circumspection: in the conversation of men, and manner of behaviour, the moral virtues: In the perfection of voluntary actions, diverse arts and sciences, and above all, disposeth itself to the worship and adoration of God, in some one sort or other: the right manner whereof depending upon his express oracles, and operation of his spirit above nature: the want whereof hath caused so many rites, and sundry superstitions as are, and have been accounted religion in the world, the humane sense being neither able to deliver mysteries of such divine quality unto the mind, and those grounds and rules being feebled, and crooked in that kind, by the degenerate state of our first parents. So than that wherein children seem to fail through age in reason, is not that the faculty is unripe, or to seek: but because the exercise thereof through necessity of life, is employed in such things, as sense not being before acquainted with, maketh offer thereof to the minds judgement confused, and delivereth one thing for another, or the same not sincerely: so the fault is in organical action, and not in ingenerate faculty, which organ hath not yet, the full disposition of all his parts, or mistaketh for want of experience, that which it reporteth: according to which the mind pronounceth, directed by her ingenerate science: which both are manifest in tender years: whose brains are so soaked, and drowned with natural moisture, that in them the animal instruments are most feeble, especially such as require use of the brain itself the moistest part of all the body, the other actions which stand of a passive disposition (as outward sense) being little or nothing thereby hindered. This appeareth plainly in those things which children do distinctly comprehend, which their ingenerate science, essential to the mind, doth clearly, and perfectly conceive and judge, as the ancient: as a child knowing the heat of fire, will as readily judge of the peril, as the wisest Senator, of the inroad of a borderer, or the politic captain, of the unequal encounter with his enemy, by place, occasion, of time, or what opportunity so ever, & having felt the heat thereof, will as presently judge the sentence false, affirmeth it could, as the sharpest witted philosopher, the most captious argument, & subtlest Sorites of Stilpo. Moreover we daily see in children a Praeludium as it were, & draft of the gravest actions, that in earnest do afterward fall out in our life, only the thing altered wherein the mind is occupied. For they will both counterfeit the wise counsellor, & the valiant captain: the Majesty of a prince, & duty of homage and subjection, and give signification for the most part of that hope in their youth, as a modill, whereof age afterward maketh full proof: which as it appeareth in all, so most notably in the worthy Cyrus, of whose education Zenophon writeth. Now it also appeareth in children (as their organical parts are tempered,) more quickly, to apprehend, even those childish matters wherewith they busy themselves or they therewith more or less acquainted: which both concurred in Cyrus: his body being as it should seem of excellent temper, and himself, son of a King, at those days the great master of the world: as for his education, it was nothing else, but an acquainting of his mind with those excellent parts of a prince, which afterward being at full ability of instrument, he put in practice, as his government required. This called Plato a remembrance only, and calling to mind again of those things, which the soul, by being plunged in this gulf of the body, had forgotten: which I so far otherwise count of as neither do I hold that the soul had ever before any knowledge of these outward things, and such whereof the senses be motions, neither being separated from this corporal society, shall have any knowledge, or remembrance of hereafter, at least in this manner, but only is conversant in those exercises which require no bodily organ, till the resurrection, when joined to the body again, as after a sleep, it recondeth with fresh memory what it hath done good or evil, with conscience excusing or accusing: because they rise of sense, and sensible objects, and have no farther use then in human society, which such actions do uphold: neither carrieth it away more than it brought, as whereto nothing can be added. That then, which generally I answered, touching organical practices peculiar to body and spirit, the same do I apply particularly to the objection from age, and such discretion as it bringeth with it; even that all such are actions depending upon instrument, whereunto the fall whatsoever is to be ascribed, and not unto any faculty of the mind, (which never suffereth increase nor decrease, or any other kind of alteration,) or else unto want of experience, & exercise of those things, which greater years meddle with: wherein the senses both external, and internal by use being perfect, like as a true looking glass representeth the countenance to the eye, in all points as nature, hath framed it, so offer they the relation true & distinct from sensible things: whereof the mind delivereth resolution and sentence: willeth good things, and refuseth the contrary, whatsoever it seemeth to do otherwise, through the inordinate instruments the seats of unruly appetite, and disorderly affection, far different from that which the mind itself willeth entirely, free from all perturbation. That which I have answered concerning the animal actions, fitteth also the objection of propagation: for such parts have not as yet their natural disposition thereunto: neither doth the animal parts make such discretion in male and female, whereof that appetite ariseth, although the sight and countenance and person of each party be all one: neither is any faculty idle at any time, (the instruments only of sense and motion take refreshing by rest,) especially so many years: which must needs ensue, if it were a faculty distinct, and not rather according to the aptness of instrument, a peculiar exercise only. For nature employeth all to the uttermost, and giveth never over, except it be more cheerfully and strongly to lay hand to the work again, which to propagation needeth not, no use having been thereof at all before. If you say it riseth of an internal conceit, take this withal, that the conceit is taken from an external object, together with a disposed part thereunto, which so soon as it is perfected to the use: the mind being always occupied, and in continual motion, employeth that also whereunto naturally it is bend. The objection rising from custom of life in sailors, butchers, and ploughmen, receiveth the same answer. For their instruments of action through continual practice of such arts, maketh them in common sense, imagination, and affection, to deliver things unto the mind after an impure sort, always savouring of their ordinary trade of life. This is that putteth of butchers from juries, and judgements of life and death amongst men: who although they know there is difference betwixt man and beast, the cause of the one and the use of the other, the guiltless prisoner, and the innocent lamb, yet they being accustomed with slaughter, the difference is not so sincerely taken, and the affection not indifferent in such a case: and therefore from such capital causes they are removed. The mariner as the Europians are more rough, bold, hardy, inconstant, them the Asians, through inconstancy of the air, and tempestiousnes of the regions: so the incertainty of the weather, and stormy seas with custom of danger, maketh them more rough, bold, and hasty, than they which be of other trade of life, and their business on firm land: every action in respect and comparison of due consideration, is either wind, tide, or tempest; the ancher, sail, or steirne: every displeasure a storm, and every contentment a calm: even as a man that hath traveled all the day on horseback, or sailed on the sea, though he be laid on his bed, yet keepeth animagination of travel still, his body fairing after a sort, as though it were on horseback, or yet embarked, judgeth not so lightly of rest: by reason of the former enured travel: so these men through their kind of life, either by false representations of such objects, or imperfect & mixed report, offer things to the mind, otherwise than they are indeed, and receive judgement of them thereafter: whereto their affections answering, they take things in far other part, than they should, or the nature of the cause requireth: Now the region or habitation being as it were apparent unto us, ministering breath and food, no marvel if our bodies be affected thereafter, & so the actions vary (as the child of the parents in one sort or other carrieth the resemblance) the faculty being all one, and keeping the same state, while the instruments stand to such hazard, as outward things, either by region, diet, custom of life, or else whatsoever doth threaten and bring upon us. Most of all hath region this force, not only in that we feed as the soil affordeth, but because the air whereof the spirits of our bodies are repaired, besides that which riseth of the internal spirit of aliment, is continually drunk in us, and passeth into all the secrets of our entrails, stirreth our humours, and diversly affecteth all our organical parts: as the air and soil, dry, open, & barren, maketh the bodies firm, hard, and compact, and the spirits pure & subtle, whereby what action soever is to be performed of them, is more quick, nimble, and prompt, especially if nourishment be proportional, then of people of contrary habitation. Of all the former objections, the humours of our bodies seem most to urge, & challenge interest in disposing of the mind, both in respect of those accidents, we see persons fall into overcharged with them, as also, because commonly the affections of the heart, as joy, sadness, delight, displeasure, hope, fear, or whatsoever else of them is mixed among the perturbations, commonly are all to them ascribed, which because it most concerneth the chief drift of this discourse of melancholy, I will more stand upon, and afford it a more copious answer.   

CHAP. XV. Whether the perturbations rise of the humour or not.  
THE perturbations are taken commonly to rise of melancholy, choler, blood, or phlegm; so that men of hasty disposition we call choleric: of sad, melancholic: of heavy and dull phlegmatic: of merry and cheerful, sanguine: and not only the common opinion so taketh it but these affections are accounted of the Physicians for tokens of such complexions, & such humours reigning in the body. Let us consider therefore, whether the truth be as they hold it, & perturbations have no other fountain than these humours. What these humours are, we have sufficiently declared, and how they are engendered: the use of them is to nourish the parts of the body, and to repair the continual expense thereof through traveles of this life; besides that, which the natural heat continually consumeth. The perturbations thus move us, disturb our counsels, & disquiet our bodies on this sort. First occasion riseth from outward things, wherein we either take pleasure, or wherewith we are offended: this object is carried to the internal senses from the outward; which if it be a matter sensual only, the mind useth to impart it to the heart, by the organical internal senses, which with joy embraceth it, or with indignation, and mislike refuseth it; if of such points, as itself liketh, without their help it giveth knowledge thereof to the heart by the spirits, which either embraceth the same, impelled by the minds willing, or rejecteth it with mislike and hatred, according to her nilling. But before I proceed further in this Chapter, it shall be necessary to declare unto you, all the sorts of perturbations, which being distinguished unto classes or proper families, shall deliver great light unto us: both in laying open their natures, and also compared with the nature of the humours, make more clear demonstration, what likelihood they carry to be effects of such causes as the humours are. All perturbations are either simple, or compounded of the simple. Simple are such, as have no mixture of any other perturbation: and those are either primitive, and first, or derivative and drawn from them. The primitives have like or dislike properties unto them. Love & hate are the first kinds and primitives of the rest: love being a vehement liking, and hate a vehement affection of disliking: from these springe all the derivatives, which arise either from love, or hate, like, or dislike. From love and liking of a present good, springeth joy and rejoicing; if it be to come, hope entertaineth the heart with expectation. From dislike and hate: if the thing be evil as the other good, (in deed or in appearance it skilleth not) and present, riseth heaviness of heart, and disposition of sadness: if it be a future evil, fear riseth from the mislike of hate; & these I take to be all the simple perturbations. The compound, are such as have part of the simple by mixture: and that either of the primitives with simple ones only, or mixed with derivatives. Such are mixed with primitives only, are either mixed unequally of love and liking, or of mislike & hate; or equally of them both. Of the first sort, & taking more part of liking, is the affection which moveth us to laugh; this we call merriness wherewith we with some discontentment, take pleasure at that, which is done or said ridiculously: of which sort are deeds, or words, unseemly or unmeet, and yet move no compassion; as when a man scaldeth his mouth with his pottage or an hot pie, we are discontented with the hurt, yet joy at the event unexpected of the party, and that we have escaped it; from whence cometh laughter: which because it exceedeth the mislike of the thing that hurteth, bursteth out into vehemency on that side, and procureth that merry gesture. If on the other side the thing besuch as the mislike exceedeth the joy we have of our freedom from that evil, then riseth pity and compassion: and these perturbations take their beginnings of the primitives unequally mixed, whereby one of them doth after a sort obscure the other. The other are such as have equal mixture, and those are envy and jealousy. If the thing we love be such as we have not part of, then springeth an hate or mislike of the party who enjoyeth that we want and like of, and so breedeth envy, a grief for the prosperity of another, or good success whatsoever, wherein we have no part. If it be such benefit as we enjoy, and are grieved it should be communicated with other, and wherein we refuse a partner, that is called jealousy: and is seen manifest in such, as at amorously affected, or of aspiring natures: and these are compounded of the primitives alone, like or mislike, love, or hate. Those which are mixed of primitives, or derivatives, are of two sorts, according as the primitives: that is to say mixed of love or hate. Now love mixed with hope, breedeth trust: with love and fear distrust. Hate or mislike compounded with hope, breedeth anger: whereby we are displeased with that misliketh us, and by hope of being satisfied of that, that offered the dislike, are driven to anger the affection of revenge. If it be any thing wherein we have displeased ourselves with, it is called shame: if it be compounded with fear, it is called bashfulness; if the mislike be taken from another, the composition is of hate and anger, and thereof springeth, malice. Thus have you the perturbations compounded of primitive passions with their derivatives. Of derivatives betwixt themselves arise despair, and confident assurance. Despair is compounded of heaviness, grief and fear: the other of joy and hope: thus have you after my mind the perturbations ranged into their several classes: to the end, the affinity of cause and effect (if any be) betwixt them and the humours, may more easily appear; if none be, as in deed there is none, than the contrary truth may with greater evidence, approve itself unto your judgement. For love or liking, hate or mislike, being but two primitive passions, how may we with reason refer them to the humours, which are four: and if the perturbations should rise of humour, than should they answer each other neither more nor fewer: and as the one is compound, primitive and derivative, so should the humours be at the instant of those passions, which is impossible: or if they be not at the instant mixed, but before, the heart should not lie indifferent to all passions, and the mixture being once made, by what means should they be again unmixed? Again if they rise of humour, than should those parts wherein humours most abound, be instruments of passions, and so the gall of anger, and the spleen of sadness, and not the heart, which is the seat of all those affections, which we call perturbations: from which both of those parts, are parted by the midriff. But you will say: these affections rise of the temper of the heart, and that temper of the humour. Not so: for either the affections rise of the frame alone of the heart, or else at the least joined with the temper: now the humours have so small force in making temper, and framing the complexion, that themselves are all thereof framed, the spirits applying the temper of the organical parts to that business. Touching the frame of the heart, such as have been most courageous have it of substance firm, compact, and of quality moderate, the poors neither overlarge nor narrow: in which points the temper and complexion hath no use: but the frame alone. Again, these passions being wrought of the heart by a certain enlarging of itself, if it be pleased, and closing, if it be contrarily affected: which be actions not of complexion, but of frame & shape, make sufficient proof against the complexion in this part, which only beareth itself affected to that which it toucheth, altering it, if it be of victuals into humours, and the humours into the substance of the body, which it endueth with the same complexion. Again it fareth oft times that this or that humour aboundeth by disordered diet, yet the complexion all one; neither purgations of humour alter complexion, a fixed thing, ingenerate by nature, & not overthrown but by some venomous quality direct opposite against it, or long custom of other disorder, whereby nature is supplanted in time, & growing in acquaintance, with which first is misliked, is overmatched with a counterfeit nature, gotten by use of that otherwise is unnatural. These points might be more at large laid open, if it were necessary, or they did not withdraw from the purpose I have in hand, to rest more upon them. But how then cometh it to pass, that melancholic persons are more sad than other, & choleric more angry etc. if these humours bear no sway herein? For answer of which question, you are to understand that both joy and sadness are of two sorts, as also the rest springing from them: the one is natural rising upon an outward occasion, if the body be well tempered, and faultless in his instruments, and the object made no greater nor less than it is in deed, and the heart, answer proportionally thereunto: the other is unnatural, and disordered, rising either of no outward occasion, but from inward delusion, or else such as are (by fault of the report of the senses, or evil disposition of the heart) otherwise taken then the object requireth. In this second kind, the humours seem to have greatest rule, which whether they have so, as causes or not, & in what respect they intermeddle, I will now make plain unto you. Of the first sort of perturbations natural, and rising upon evident occasion I need stand less upon, seeing as the heart is by outward causes moved, so is it neither more affected of this humour then of that, neither can there be any such sudden separation of humours be wrought in the body, whereby through anger choler should disjoin himself from his fellow humours, and possess the heart: or melancholy in causes of grief, sorrow, or fear, especially an humour of gross & earthy parts, as it were the very lies of the rest of the blood. Again, it were very contrary to reason, to attribute an action of so necessary use, as are the perturbations unto that, which is no organ of our bodies, but only matter of food and nourishment; of which sort are all the humours, keeping themselves within compass of good temper. Moreover if through anger the heart be moved first, then is it first troubled, and the perturbations wrought, before the humour receive impression: if the humour admit first the motion of the thing lovely or hurtful, & impart that to the heart, then should it receive a degree of excellency above the heart in this respect, being more attendant upon the spirit, the chief steward of this faculty, than the heart is, which next to the spirit hath greatest place in the body. But why then say you, have the Philosophers defined anger a boiling of the blood about the heart? if it be according to that definition, than the more choleric a man is, so much the more angry is he: because the choler is first apt to boil, as it were brimstone to the match, in respect of the other humours. That definition of anger, is to be taken not by proper speech, but by a metonymical phrase, whereby the cause is attributed to the effect. For first the heart moveth, kindled with anger, than the blood riseth, which being choleric increaseth the heat, but addeth nothing to the passion: now because we sensibly feel an extraordinary heat about our hearts when we be moved to angry passions, therefore they have defined anger by that effect: which boiling, riseth not of the quality of the blood, but by a strife of a contrary motion in the heart at one time, the one being a contraction of itself, and a retreat of the blood and certain spirits not far of: with mislike of that offendeth, as in fear, which commandeth even from the extreme and utmost parts: whereby it gathereth great heat within, which breathing out again with revenge, causeth through vehemency, & suddenness of the motion, that boiling of heat, procured of anger: especially if it be not delivered by word and deed, whereby liberty is given for the passion to break forth, which restrained in any sort, breedeth an agony of such fervency, as it may resemble the scalding of a boiling cauldron not uncovered, or an hot furnace closed up in all vents. Moreover if perturbation should be caused of humour, to whether should we attribute it? to the natural humour, or to the excrement? the excrement is far removed from the heart, & is not so ready to affect it, a great distance being betwixt their several places; & in jaundice, the gall overflowing the body, & passing through the veins, & staining all parts, we see them not so affected, more angry then at other times, or their bodies being cleared from the tincture of yellowness. If it be the natural humour, that is to say, the subtlest part of the blood, always contained in the heart (whether you understand that blood which is comprehended in the two bosoms, or that wherewith the heart is sustained & nourished in every part) why is not then the heart always affected without intermission, with such passions as the blood inclineth unto, seeing it is always present, & keepeth his disposition alike? If you will have it of neither, but of that which is contained in the great vain, rushing with violence into the right side of the heart, the quality of that blood being of cooler temper them that which the heart hath already embraced, should serve to mitigate the mood, rather than to add more sticks to the fire. To conclude this point, lest I should seem to fight with a shadow: if either humour, or excrement should have part in moving affections, no counsel of philosophy, nor precept of wise men were comparable to calm these raging passions, unto the purging potions of Physicians, & in this case the Elleborans of Anticera; the Colocynthis of Spain, and the Rhubarb of Alexandria, above all the schools of Divinity or Philosophy. The less I labour against these humours in the kinds of natural perturbations, or such as rise upon occasion, because I think the error is soon removed, & requireth no long reasoning. The other sort which move us without cause, or external object, either to sadness, anger, fear, or joy, because they seem altogether to be effects of humours, no other cause being apparent whereto to ascribe them, I will more copiously debate this point in the Chapter following.   

CHAP. XVI. Whether perturbations, which are not moved by outward occasions rise of humours or not? and how?  
WE do see by experience certain persons which enjoy all the comforts of this life whatsoever wealth can procure, and whatsoever friendship offereth of kindness, and whatsoever security may assure them: yet to be overwhelmed with heaviness, and dismayed with such fear, as they can neither receive consolation, nor hope of assurance, notwithstanding there be neither matter of fear, or discontentment, nor yet cause of danger, but contrarily of great comfort, and gratulation. This passion being not moved by any adversity present or imminent, is attributed to melancholy the grossest part of all the blood, either while it is yet contained in the veins: or aboundeth in the spleen, (ordained to purge the blood of that dross and settling of the humours) surcharged therewith for want of free vent, by reason of obstruction, or any ways else the passage being let of clear avoidance. The rather it seemeth to be no less, because purgation, opening of a vain, diet, and other order of cure and medicine, as physic prescribeth, have been means of changing this disposition, and mitigation of those sorrows, and quieting of such fears, as melancholy persons have fancied to themselves, & have as it seemeth restored both wit and courage. Hitherto we have been led by reason of the objection from humours, which imported great power in them of affecting the mind. It was answered before generally, whatsoever was done in the body of any part to be done organically, and that was applied specially to certain objections before answered: it remaineth here, that the same be applied also to our humours, which have no other power to affect the mind, then to alter the state of the instruments: which next to the mind, & soul itself are the only causes of all direct action in the body. So here we are to consider, in what sort the humours move these perturbations above mentioned: whether as chief workers, instruments, or other kind of helpers: and so how they may claim any interest in terrifying, or soliciting the mind, this way or that way, as the objections before mentioned would bear us in hand. It hath been declared before how the mind is the sole mover in the body, and how the rest of the parts far as instruments, and ministers: whereby in natural affections the humours are secluded from chief doers, and being no organical parts serve for no instruments. For whatsoever hath any constant and firm action in our bodies, the state of health remaining firm, is done either by soul, or by the parts of the body: of which the humours are neither, and so utterly secluded of nature from any peculiar action to any use of the body. For that they are said to nourish, it signifieth only a passive disposition, by which through our nourishing power, they receive the Character of our nature, and are altered into the substance of the same, they themselves giving over their private action, and submitting to the natural concoctive virtue, which destroyeth all particularities of nourishment, and bringeth them to that uniformity which our nature requireth. Then while the body is in health, the humours bear no sway of private action, but it being once altered, and they evil disposed, and breaking from that regiment whereunto they should be subject, are so far of from subjection to the disposition of our bodies, and strength of our parts, that they oppress them, and as it appeareth in simptomaticall events in sickness, despise that government, whereto by nature's law they stand bound. Thus than I hold humours to be occasions of disorderly perturbations, even as they are means of depraving the instrument of perturbation, and turning it otherwise, than nature hath disposed, whose government when it hath shaken of, it affecteth us two manner of ways: the one by the corporal substance, whereby it annoyeth the corporal mass of bodies, and complexion, and breaketh out into sores, Emposthumes, or other such annoyances: the other by a spirit which it possesseth, either contrary altogether, or diverse at the least from ours, wherewith many ways it disturbeth the orderly actions, & weakeneth the vigour of the same: now both by substance, and by spirit it altereth complexion where it prevaileth, and thereby giveth greatest stroke to the organical members. Then seeing all actions are performed both by spirit and corporal instrument, and the humours exceeding the government of nature, and withdrawing themselves from subjection thereof, affect us both ways, spirit against spirit, and corporal substance against his like, we are to consider, how by these two means our actions suffer through their disorder, and where their operation taketh most place in working such fantastical perturbations wherewith we are deluded. Of all parts of the body, in each perturbation, two are chiefly affected: first the brain, that both apprehendeth the offensive or pleasant object, & judgeth of the same in like sort, and communicateth it with the heart, which is the second part affected: these being troubled carry with them all the rest of the parts into a sympathy, they of all the rest being in respect of affection of most importance. The humours then to work these effects, which approach nigh to natural perturbations grounded upon just occasion, of necessity, altar either brain or heart: if the brain be altered, and the object not rightly apprehended then is it delivered otherwise then it standeth in nature, and so the heart moved to a disorderly passion. Again though the brain be without fault, and report delivered to the heart sincerely: yet that being distempered, or altered in complexion by fault of humour, doth not answer in affection as the object requireth: but more or less, as the distemper misleadeth: if both parts be overcharged of humour, the apprehension & affection both are corrupted, and miss of their right action, and so all things mistaken, engender that confused spirit, and those storms of outrageous love, hatred, hope or fear, wherewith bodies so passionate are here and there, tossed with disquiet. Now particularly the spirit of the humour being subtler, thinner, and hotter then is meet, maketh the apprehension quicker than it should be, and the discretion more hasty, then is meet for the upright delivery to the heart, what to embrace or to refuse: this causeth proneness to anger, when we are offended without cause, commonly called teastines, and frowardness. If the humour also with his spirit possess the brain, then are these passions of longer continuance: humour being of a more solid nature than the spirit, and so not easily dispersed, which causeth fits of such passions to be of longer continuance: and thus the heart may be abused from the brain: not much unlike as it falleth often out in communication of speech amongst us: a man of hasty disposition, ready to answer, and quick witted, will make reply to that which should be said, before the tale be half told, whereby he faileth in his replication, and answereth from the purpose: which if he had been first assured, whereto to reply, he should not have miss. This appeareth plain in Choleric persons, or such as are disposed to anger: such are offended where they have no cause in truth, but by mistaking: and where they have cause the vehemency of the apprehension, and the suddenness of the report from the brain unto the seat of perturbation, enforceth double the passion: especially when the heart is as flexible, as the brain is light: then rangeth it into all extremity. This cometh to pass, not by any power of anger in the Choleric humour: but by reason the instruments are misordered, either by vapour rising from that humour, or the very substance of the same. They are disordered in this sort through Choler. The natural spirit and complexion of these parts become subtler, thinner, and quicker, proner to action, then of their natures they should be, through the heat which riseth of Choler, and his spirit intermixed with ours: by this mobility of vapour, our spirit (of a quieter and more stable disposition,) is either made more rare, then is expedient for the use of our bodies, or else striving as it were to subdue this bastard spirit and unwelcome guest, can not give that attendance upon his proper duty, which naturally it should: and so the actions thereupon rise depraved, and having wherewith it is encumbered within, admitteth the cause of displeasure more easily which riseth abroad: being an addition to that which molesteth at home: and these natures for the most part are troubled with a Choleric humour, or fretting, like to Choler, about the mouth of the stomach, which is of all the inward parts of quickest sense and feeling. This causeth them, especially fasting, before the humour be mitigated, and delayed with nourishment, to be most prone to that angry passion. The tasty waywardness of sick persons, such as are vexed with pain or fever, whereby the humours of the body become more fell maketh evident proof hereof. We see how small matters put them out of patience, & every thing offendeth: whereas in health the same occasions would little, or nothing move. The reason is because, they measure all outward accidents, by that they find of discontentment within: not that the humour that discontenteth is any instrument of passion, or carrieth with it faculty to be displeased: but because it disquieteth the body, and giveth discontentment to nature, it is occasion why displeasures are made great: and where there is no cause, nature troubled within, fareth as greatly displeased with that which outwardly should not displease: the grief within, being added to an indifferent thing without, and drawing it into like fellowship of displeasure, even but for that it pleaseth not: like as in a troubled sea, a great vessel is more easily stirred with small strength, then in the calm haven, or quiet stream: so our spirits, and organical instruments of passion, the part tossed with stormy weather of internal discontentment, is with little occasion disquieted, yea with the shaking of a rush, that hath no show of calming those domestical storms, that arise more troublesome, and boisterous to our nature, than all the blustering winds in the Ocean sea. For when our passion is once up by such occasion, the common sense is also carried therewith, and distinction of outward things hindered at the least, if not taken away, all things being weighed by that which nature findeth offence at within: even as the taste altered in fevers by choleric vapours, maketh sweet things seem bitter, and unpleasant, which of themselves are most delectable to the taste, and would greatly satisfy the same party, the bitter relish through that taint of choler once taken away. And in this sort in my opinion ariseth the disorderly, & unruly passion of choler, both increased, where some occasion is offered, and procured by inward disposition of the body and spirit, when there is no pretence, or show of cause. This is seen as plainly in mirth and joy, which riseth as well upon inward harmony of spirit, humour, and complexion, as upon glad tidings, or external benefit whereof we take rejoicing. A body of sanguine complexion (as commonly we call it, although complexion be another thing, than condition of humours) the spirits being in their just temper in respect of quality, and of such plenty as nature requireth, not mixed or defiled, by any strange spirit or vapour, the humours in quantity & quality rated in geometrical, and just proportion, the substance also of the body, and all the members so qualified by mixture of elements, as all conspire together in due proportion, breedeth an indifferency to all passions. Now if blood abound, and keep his sincerity, and the body receive by it, and the spirits rising from the same, a comfort in the sensible parts, without doubt then, as anger without cause external, rose upon inward displeasure; so this spirit, these humours, and this temper, may move an inward joy, whereof no external object may be accounted as just occasion. This is the cause that maketh some men prone to joy, and laughter at such things, as other men are not drawn with into any passion, and maketh them pick out, and seek for causes of laughter, not only to move others to the like, but to express their merry passion, which riseth by the judgement of our senses imparted to the heart, not regarding whether the cause be inward or outward, that moveth, which taketh comfort thereat, as though the object were external. This especially cometh to pass if the blood be such about the heart, as his pureness & sincereness with sweetness that carrieth moderation of temper doth so comfort, and mollify it, that it easily, & aptly enlargeth itself: then such blood or such vapour that hath this tickling quality, causeth a delight conceived in the brain; and communicated with the heart, procureth a comfortable gratulation, and inward joy of that whereof nature taketh pleasure. For as we have sights, tastes, smells, noises, pleasant objects without us, and on the contrary part, as many odious, and hateful, which do force our senses: so have we also all these internal, pleasant or unpleasant: & as we have of sensual objects internal, so in like manner pleasure & displeasure is communicated from within of the brain to the heart, of such things as we are not able directly to refer to this or that quality: as we see it fareth with tastes oftentimes: such mixtures may be in sauces, that something may please us we cannot express what, raised of the composition. This chief falleth to our bodies, when that which giveth this occasion carrieth force of gentle and light spirits: as wine, and strong drink, and all aromatical spices, which have a power to comfort the brain, and heart, and affect all our body throughout with celerity and quickness, before their spirits be spent in the passage: then the brain giveth merry report, & the heart glad for itself, and all the fellow members, as it were, danceth for joy, and good liking, which it receiveth of such internal provocations. Then as we see wine give occasion of mirth by his excellent spirit, wherewith our spirit is delighted, and greatly increased, if it be drunk with moderation; so such as are of merry dispositions, enjoy a natural wine in their bodies, especially hearts & brains, which causeth them to laugh at the wagging of a feather, and without just matter of laughter, without modest regard of circumstance, to bear themselves light & ridiculous: & this my friend M. I take to be the cause of merry Greeks, who seek rather to discharge themselves of the jocund affection, stirred up by their humour, then require true outward occasion of solace and recreation. Now as before I have said that choler procureth anger, not as cause, but as occasion, so likewise blood thus tempered and replenished with these aromatical and merry spirits, giveth occasion only of this pleasantness, and is no cause thereof, the heart making just claim to these affections as the only instrument, & under the soul, chief author of these unruly companions: which instrument is so disposed, that obeying the mind, and those natural rules whereby all things are esteemed, good or bad, true or false, to be done or not to be done, no otherwise then by a civil subjection ruled by counsel & no constraint, it repugneth oft times all the strong conclusions whatsoever reason can make to the contrary. Thus you understand how a man may be angry and merry without external object, or outward cause: now let us consider, how sadness and fear, the points which most belong to this discourse, and your present state, may also arise without occasion of outward terror either presently molesting, or fearing us by likelihood, or possibility of future danger. As the nature of choler is subtle, hot, bitter, and of a fretting and biting quality, both itself and the vapours that pass from it, and blood temperate, sweet, and full of cheerful and comfortable spirits, answerable to those we have ingenerate, especially if they become aromatical, as I may term them, and of a fragrant nature, by natural temper, or by means of diet: so melancholy of quality, gross, dull, and of few comfortable spirits; and plentifully replenished with such as darken all the clearness of those sanguineous, and engross their subtleness, defile their pureness with the fog of that slime, and fenny substance, and shut up the heart as it were in a dungeon of obscurity, causeth many fearful fancies, by abusing the brain with ugly illusions, & locketh up the gates of the heart, whereout the spirits should break forth upon just occasion, to the comfort of all the family of their fellow members: whereby we are in heaviness, sit comfortless, fear, distrust, doubt, despair, and lament, when no cause requireth it, but rather a behaviour beseeming a heart upon just cause, and sound reason most comfortable, and cheerful. This doth melancholy work, not otherwise then the former humours, giving occasion, and false matter of these passions, and not by any disposition as of instrument thereunto. Of all the other humours melancholy is fullest of variety of passion, both according to the diversity of place where it settleth, as brain, spleen, mesaraicke veins, heart, womb, and stomach; as also through the diverse kinds, as natural, unnatural: natural, either of the spleen, or of the veins, faulty only by excess of quantity, or thickness of substance: unnatural by corruption, and that either of blood adust, choler, or melancholy natural, by excessive distemper of heat, turned in comparison of the natural, into a sharp lie by force of adustion. These diverse sorts having diverse matter, cause more strange symptoms of fancy and affection to melancholic persons, than their humour to such as are sanguine, choleric, or phlegmatic: which phlegm of all the rest serveth least to stir up any affection: but breeding rather a kind of stupidity, and an impassionate heart, then easily moved to embrace or refuse, to sorrow or joy, anger or contentedness: except it be a salt phlegm, them approacheth it to the nature of choler, & in like sort thereof riseth anger & frowardness.   

CHAP. XVII. How melancholy procureth fear, sadness, despair, and such other passions.  
NOw let us consider what passions they are that melancholy driveth us unto, and the reason how it doth so diversly distract those that are oppressed therewith. The perturbations of melancholy are for the most part, sad and fearful, and such as rise of them: as distrust, doubt, diffidence, or despair, sometimes furious, and sometimes merry in appearance, through a kind of Sardonian, and false laughter, as the humour, is disposed that procureth these diversities. Those which are sad and pensive, rise of that melancholic humour, which is the grossest part of the blood, whether it be juice or excrement, not passing the natural temper in heat whereof it partaketh, and is called cold in comparison only. This for the most part is settled in the spleen, and with his vapours anoyeth the heart and passing up to the brain, counterfeiteth terrible objects to the fantasy, and polluting both the substance, and spirits of the brain, causeth it without external occasion, to forge monstrous fictions, and terrible to the conceit, which the judgement taking as they are presented by the disordered instrument, deliver over to the heart, which hath no judgement of discretion in itself, but giving credit to the mistaken report of the brain, breaketh out into that inordinate passion, against reason. This cometh to pass, because the instrument of discretion is depraved by these melancholic spirits, and a darkness & clouds of melancholievapours rising from that puddle of the spleen obscure the clearness, which our spirits are endued with, and is requisite to the due discretion of outward objects. This at the first is not so extreme, neither doth it show so apparently, as in process of time, when the substance of the brain hath plentifully drunk of that spleneticke fog, whereby his nature is become of the same quality, and the pure and bright spirits so defiled, and eclipsed, that their indifferency alike to all sensible things, is now drawn to a partiality, and inclination, as by melancholy they are enforced. For where that natural and internal light is darkened, their fancies arise vain, false, and void of ground even as in the external sensible darkness, a false illusion will appear unto our imagination, which the light being brought in is discerned to be an abuse of fancy: now the internal darkness affecting more nigh by our nature, than the outward, is cause of greater fears, and more molesteth us with terror, then that which taketh from us the sight of sensible things: especially arising not of absence of light only, but by a presence of a substantial obscurity, which is possessed with an actual power of operation: this taking hold of the brain by process of time giveth it an habit of depraved conceit, whereby it fancieth not according to truth: but as the nature of that humour leadeth it, altogether ghastly and fearful. This causeth not only fantastical apparitions wrought by apprehension only of common sense, but fantasy, an other part of internal sense compoundeth, and forgeth disguised shapes, which give great terror unto the heart, and cause it with the lively spirit to hide itself as well as it can, by contraction in all parts, from those counterfeit goblins, which the brain dispossessed of right discerning, feigneth unto the heart. Neither only is common sense, and fantasy thus overtaken with delusion, but memory also receiveth a wound therewith: which disableth it both to keep in memory, and to record those things, whereof it took some custody before this passion, and after, therewith are defaced. For as the common sense and fantasy, which do offer unto the memory to lay up, deliver but fables in stead of true report, and those tragical that dismay all the sensible frame of our bodies, so either is the memory wholly distracted by importunity of those doubts and fears, that it neglecteth the custody of other store: or else it recordeth and apprehendeth only such as by this importunity is thrust thereupon nothing but darkness, peril, doubt, frights, and whatsoever the heart of man most doth abhor. And these the senses do so melancholikely deliver to the minds consideration (which judging of such things as they offered, not having farther to do in the deeper examination) that it applieth those certain ingenerate points of reason and wisdom to a deceitful case, though it be always in the general, and if particularities be delivered up a right, in them also most certain and assured. For those things which are sensible, and are as it were the counterfettes of ourward creatures, the report of them is committed by God's ordinance to the instruments of the brain furnished with his spirit, which if it be, as the things are in nature, so doth the mind judge and determine, no farther submitting itself to examine the credit of these senses which (the instruments being faultless, and certain other considerations required necessary, agreeable unto their integrity,) never fail in their business, but are the very first grounds of all this corporal action of life and wisdom, that the mind for the most part here outwardly practiseth. If they be contrary, so also doth the mind judge, and pursueth or shuneth, for these sensible matters reposing trust in the corporal ministers, whose misereport, no more ought to discredit the mind, or draw it into an accessary crime of error, than the judicial sentence is to be blamed, which pronounceth upon the oath and credit of a jury empaneled of such as are reported men of honesty, credit, and discretion though their verdict be not peradventure according as the cause committed to them doth require. The memory being thus freight with perils past: and embracing only through the brains disorder that which is of discomfort, causeth the fantasy out of such records, to forge new matters of sadness and fear, whereof no occasion was at any time before, nor like to be given hereafter: to these fancies the heart answering with like melancholic affection, turneth all hope into fear, assurance into distrust and despair, joy into discomfort: and as the melancholy nature, or body any way corrupt, defileth the pure and wholesome nourishment, & converteth it into the same kind of impurity: and as the fire of all kind of matter giveth increase of heat, whether it be wood, stone, metal, or liquor: so the body thus possessed with the uncheerful, and uncomfortable darkness of melancholy, obscureth the Son and Moon, and all the comfortable planets of our natures, in such sort, that if they appear, they appear all dark, and more than half eclipsed of this mist of blackness, rising from that hideous lake: and in all things comfortable, either curiously pryeth out, and snatcheth at whatsoever of mislike may be drawn to the nourishment of itself: or else neglecteth altogether that which is of other quality, than food, and pasture of those monsters, which nature never bred, nor perfect since conceived, nor memory uncorrupt would ever allow entertainment, but are hatched out of this muddy humour, by an unnatural temper & bastard spirit, to the disorder of the whole regiment of human nature, both in judgement and affection. Thus the heart a while being acquainted, with nothing else, but domestical terror, feareth every thing, and the brain sympathetically partaking with the hearts fear, maketh doubt, distrusteth, & suspecteth without cause, always standing in awe of grievaunce: where with in time it be cometh so tender, that the least touch, as it were ones nail in an ulcer, giveth discouragement thereto, rubbing it upon the gale exulcerate with sorrow and fear: neither only doubleth it sorrow upon small occasion, but taketh it where none is offered: even as the Choleric man feedeth his passion with ridiculous causes of displeasure. For first (the general being in all nature's actions before the particular) the heart by the brain solicited to passion, & used to grief & fear, taketh the accustomed way of flight and avoidance, abhorring & fearing those things, which of themselves are most amiable and grateful: at the first not being a duised, whereto to apply the passion: even as one condemned to death with undoubted expectation of execution, fearing every knock at the prison door, hath horror, though the messenger of pardon with knock require to be admitted & let in, and every messenger, where danger is feared, though he come with cheerful countenance, giveth cause of distrust when there may be assurance: even so, the heart overcome with inward heaviness, and scared with inward fears, fareth as though whatsoever cause of affection and perturbation were minister of present grief, or messenger of future danger, by mistaking only, and withdraweth itself, and shroudeth it as secret and close, as nature will suffer, from that, which if custom had not bend it another way, upon advisement (now banished through swiftness and vehemency of passion) it would have with joyful cheer embraced. For even as we see in outward sense: the eye, or the ear long and vehemently affected with colour, or sound, or the nose with strong sent: retain the very colour, sound, and sent in the instruments, though the thing be removed that yielded such qualities; so the internal senses molested continually with this fearful object of internal darkness, esteemeth every thing of that nature: the true quality thereof being obscure, by that which hath taken possession of them before. The brain thus affected, and the heart answering his passion thereafter driveth us into those extremities of heavy mood, which assail and dispossess of right use of reason those who are melancholickly disposed: much more if the heart be as melancholickly bend, as the brain: then diverse times doth it prevent the fancy with fear, and as a man transported with passion is utterly bereft of advisement, causeth the senses both outward & inward preposterously to conceive, as the heart vainly feareth. This melancholy as the parts are diverse, & actions vary, so doth it as it is seated, or passeth this or that way, breed diversity of passion: as in the heart a trembling, in the stomach a greedy appetite: in the brain false illusions, and in the other parts as they are disposed: so depraving their actions, it causeth much variety of effects, which are not in the nature of the humour, but as it disturbeth the active instruments, no more than darkness causeth some to stumble, other some to go out of their way, & wander, & other some to bring to pass such purposes, as light would bewray & hinder, alas they be disposed & occupied which take them to their business in the dark, & not through any such effectual operation of darkness, which is nought else but mere absence of light. Neither doth so many strange sorts of accidents follow melancholy through diversity of parts only: but as the custom of life hath been before, & the fancy, & heart some way vehemently occupied: there through this humour all the faculties afore named, are carried the same way, as it were with the stream of a tide, driven with a boisterous wind; which causeth that melancholic men, are not all of one nature passionate this way: the one taking his dolorous passion from his love, another from his wealth: the other from his pleasures, whereof his melancholy beareth him in hand the present loss, or imminent danger of that wherein affection in former times had surest footing: & on the other part, which before a man most abhorred, that now that humour urgeth with most vehemency. Again as it is mixed with other humours, either keeping mediocrity, or abounding; so likewise breaketh it forth into such diversities, & many times into plain contrarieties of conceit and perturbation. Thus you understand, how fears and sorrows rise, without cause from natural melancholy, whether it be juice, or excrement, not through chief action, as from work of faculty, but by abuse of instrument through occasion. If the spleneticke excrement surcharge the body, not being purged by help of the spleen: then are these perturbations far more outrageous, and hard to be mitigated by counsel or persuasion: and more do they enforce us, the parts being altered with corporal humour, then with spiritual vapour: and so are the passions longer in continuance, and more extreme in vehemency. For as the flame carrieth not such force of burning as the coal, neither containeth the heat so long; even so the parts affected with the humour, which carrieth both grossness of substance, with continual supply of that dim vapour, settleth a more fixed passion of fear and heaviness, then that which riseth from the vapour only, partly of the own accord more easily vanishing and partly with greater facility wasted by nature's strife and resistance. Now it followeth to declare, how the other unnatural melancholy annoyeth with passions, & abuseth us with counterfeit cause of perturbation, whereof there is no ground in truth, but only a vain and fantastical conceit.   

CHAP. XVIII. Of the unnatural melancholy rising thy adustion, how it affecteth us with diverspassions.  
BEsides the former kinds, there are sorts of unnatural melancholy: which I call so rather than the other, because the other offendeth only in quality, or quantity: these are of another nature far disagreeing from the other, & by an unproper speech called melancholy. They rise of the natural humours, or their excrements by excessive distemper of heat, burned as it were into ashes in comparison of humour, by which the humour of like nature being mixed, turneth it into a sharp lie: sanguine, choleric, or melancholic, according to the humour thus burned, which we call by name of melancholy. This sort raiseth the greatest tempest of perturbations and most of all destroyeth the brain with all his faculties, and disposition of action, and maketh both it, & the heart cheer more uncomfortably: and if it rise of the natural melancholy, beyond all likelihood of truth, frame monstrous terrors of fear and heaviness without cause. If it rise of choler, than rage playeth her part, and fury joined with madness, putteth all out of frame. If blood minister matter to this fire, every serious thing for a time, is turned into a jest, & tragedies into comedies, and lamentation into gigges and dances: thus the passion whereof the humour mine streth occasion, by this unkindly heat advanceth itself into greater extremities. For becoming more subtle by heat, both in substance, & spirit, it passeth more deeply into all the parts of the instrument itself, and is a conveyance also to the humour of the same kind: making away for natural melancholy, wherewith it is mixed, into the very inward secrets of those instruments, whereof passions are affected, even heart and brain. Thus affected, you have men, when desperate fury is joined with fear: which so terrifieth, that to avoid the terror, they attempt sometimes to deprive themselves of life: so irksome it is unto them through these tragical conceits, although weighing and considering death by itself without comparison, and force of the passion, none more fear it than they. These most seek to avoid the society of men, and betake them to wildernesses, and deserts, finding matter of fear in every thing they behold, and best at ease, when alone they may digest these fancies without new provocations, which they apprehend in human society. If choler have yielded matter to this sharp kind of melnncholie, than rage, revenge, and fury, possess both heart and head, and the whole body is carried with that storm, contrary to persuasion of reason: which hath no farther power over these affections, then by way of counsel to give other direction (whereof the heart itself is destitute) and taking these discomforts of the credit of the senses, according thereto it apply itself, working, and disposing the ingenerate wisdom it is endued with, unto these particulars, which the corporal instruments corruptly offer unto it: which ministereth doubt and question to some not well advised in this point, whether reason itself be not impaired by these corporal alterations, and the immortal & impatible mind hereby suffereth not violence; which is far otherwise, if we duly way the matter. For the mad man, of what kind soever he be of, as truly concludeth of that which fantasy ministereth of conceit, as the wisest: only therein lieth the abuse and defect, that the organical parts which are ordained ambassadors, & notaries unto the mind in these cases, falsify the report, and deliver corrupt records. This is to be helped, as it shall be declared more at large hereafter, by counsel only sincerely ministered, which is free from the corruptions of those officers, and delivereth truth unto the mind, whereby it putteth in practice contrary to these importunate and furious solicitors. This fury is bred, because choler thus adust, getteth a greater eagerness of quality, and molesting the inward parts, and toiling the spirits, engendereth a greater inward disquiet and discontentment, than cruder choler doth procure. The third sort is of merry melancholy, which riseth of the blood over heated in such sort as I have declared. Of all the rest of humours, blood is most temperate and mild of disposition, and comforteth the body, as hath been mentioned, whose substance receiving that burning heat, whereof riseth the third kind of this unnatural melancholy, procureth it to be of a nature quick and fresh, and endueth it with a spirit of a nature somewhat more itching, and as it were, of a tickling quality then blood itself. For of itself being (if it be pure and perfect) nutsweete, or milkesweete, by this heat becometh first sugar or honey sweet, which hath more force of affecting, and obtaineth a more subtle and quick spirit: afterward by operation of heat, this sweetness is converted into a mild saltness, void of fretting, which tickling and itching in these melancholic bodies, cause them rather to be given to a ridiculous and absurd merriment, than a sound joy of heart, and comfortable gladness: which forceth them into laughter sometimes, that without ceasing, to the tiring and wearying of their bodies, no persuasion of reason is able to call them to more sobriety. We may see in boiling of milk, what sweetness is procured unto it thereby: & how honey much boiled, becometh salt & bitter: such is the force of heat in blood, that it turneth that milk sweet taste, into honey sweet: and that into a gentle & itching brackishnes, whereby the melancholic bodies, being as it were tickled, render from their foolish fantasy, and false liking of the heart, many absurd and ridiculous gestures and speeches, and (as far altered this way, as the melancholic on the other side) snatch at small occasions, or none at all ofttimes, of answering this fond humour in outward lightness of gesture & countenance. Thus you hear in what sort the humours seem to affect the mind, every one singled and keeping apart from his other fellow humours: which, as they be tempered with the other natural, or compounded together with one or twain of the like unnatural sorts of melancholy, make many distinctions, and differences of melancholy passions: as some more sad, the other some more merry, some quieter, & other some more prone to rage and fury: and as the humours have their courses, as for the year, blood in the spring, choler in summer, melancholy in autumn, & phlegm in winter: for the hour according to Soranus Ephesius opinion, blood from three of the clock in the morning, till nine of the same day, choler from nine of the morning, till three at after noon, melancholy from 3. at after noon till nine at night, and phlegm from nine at night till the third of the morning. I say if a man observe all these varieties, by mixture, and season, with inclination of the parts, custom of life, and imbecility of some part, and proportionally match the multitude of passions with these occasions, he might have the ground of all these troublesome perturbations made plain unto him: why some are contrary affected to other some in their melancholic fits, and are not all times alike, but sometimes sad, and sometimes excessive in mirth, now more outrageous, then at another time, as season of the year, and time of the day approach, wherein these humours have more special and particular operation. But it were too long to descend into such particularities: it shall suffice only, to have declared how these humours become occasions of passions unto us, and to have noted such a generality of rule, as any one may with ease thereby decipher the particulars. By that which hitherto hath been showed, it appeareth these humours only affect the organ and corporal part, & nothing come nigh the mind and soul: which in the mean time of these storms and tempests of passion, these delusions, fears, false terrors, and poetical fictions of the brain, sitteth quiet and still, nothing altered in faculty, or any part of that divine and impatible disposition, which it obtaineth by the excellency of creation: no more than the Sun is moved in the heavens, or receiveth in itself an obscurity, when storms arise, thunder, lightning, and clouds of darkness, and boisterous whirlwinds, seem here below to mix heaven and earth together, and to make confusion in the course and frame of nature. And thus have you the objections alleged against that freedom of the soul from the inconveniences, answered I trust to your contentment. diverse accidents follow these humours, which are to be showed, both of fancy, sense, and affection, and also gestures & actions of weeping, sighing, sobbing, laughing, & such like, with the reasons of each one, and how they be wrought by these passions: which I defer in this place to discuss, being called on to prosecute the answer to the rest of the doubts propounded before: which done (that nothing, so far as my understanding & memory will help to the matter, may be left obscure unto you in this case of melancholy) I will hereafter prosecute those also, as I shall have done the causes from whence they proceed.   

CHAP. XIX. How sickness and years seem to alter the mind: and the cause: and how the soul hath practise of senses, being separated from the body.  
ALthough persons so disposed with melancholy (as hath been declared) enjoy not perfect estate of health, yet because they complain not, neither are accounted sick, neither lie for the matter, but seem (their fancies and vain fears excepted) to be otherwise healthful, I so take them in this place though their body be in that sort, as I have mentioned to be charged with defect, as unfound and imperfect. The last of the objections is taken from the condition of sick persons, who as in appearance it seemeth both receive in their minds alteration of defect, and increase of faculties through the corporal imbecility: as though at certain times the body's health were transported to the establishment of the mind, or the body at other times, & after another sort weak, did communicate that also unto the soul, as disburdening itself thereon. To which objection, the general answer of organical disposition of parts is here more particularly to be applied: & as in the former doubts, so in this I judge all such actions, as the mind seemeth to perform in that state of body, better or worse, to be organical, pertinent to sensible things: & which as it practiseth not but in this life, neither hath such use of being disjoined from this mass of earth whereto it is with spirit coupled, so in her faculties she is not to be esteemed subject to these alterations. But you demand a farther declaration of this point, whether the mind hath use of sense or not, after it dislodgeth from this earthly tabernacle. To satisfy you herein, if probability of reason will serve, I do not take it otherwise, then that it is all an eye, all an care, all nose, taste and sinew, without distinction, as these several instruments which now it employeth make show of: For than were it not simple in substance, but must needs have compounded substance, to answer these particular senses. If you require experience and example of this, because it cannot be had in souls departed (but reason only upholdeth the rule in respect of them) let us take that which dreams in sleep do minister for declaration of this point, which sleep is a kind of separation of the soul from the body for a time, at the least a rest from outward sensible actions, whereby it more freely applieth itself to those divine contemplations, which is only learned from the instinct of creation, & never apprehended by any other instruction. In sleep I say, our dreams in some sort make evident unto us, how the soul without instrument, lacketh not the practice of senses: in which dreams we see with our souls, hear, talk, confer, and practise what action soever, as evidently with affection of joy or sorrow, as if the very object of these senses were represented unto us broad awake at noon day. If you will say it is nothing else, but the images of outward things, which hang in the common sense presented to the fantasy, or offered of the memory, which inward senses are always watchful when the outward take rest: how then cometh it to pass, that we can not in like sort fancy being awake? If we should strive to do it, every one should find it impossible, as I take it: because the soul is in a sort by that great law of necessity (being chained with that golden chain) in all parts linked to this body, which being awake, letteth those sincere actions whereabout it is busied in sleep: wherein every dream seemeth to be a kind of ecstasy, or trance, & separation of the soul from this bodily society, in which it hath been in old time instructed of God by revelation, and mysteries of secrets revealed unto it, as then more fit to apprehend such divine oracles, than altogether enjoying awake the corporal society of these earthly members. But you will say such dreams are oft times but fancies. True: and many times they be no fancies; whereof infinite examples may be brought, both sacred & profane. Now when they be not, sufficient proof ariseth to that I now dispute, that souls have sense of things without organical senses: and when they be but fancies, yet that which ministereth the object, from some distemper of diet, or condition of the body, good or bad, is scented with the mind only, the outward senses being all in deep sleep, and the inward having no power at all to see, hear, smell, taste or feel, but only of discerning that which the outward sense delivereth: for third, there is none to whom these actions are to be ascribed. Neither are these sensible actions of the mind to be accounted false: because it seethe in dreams things past as present: for so it doth also future things sometimes: which rather may argue, that both past, and to come are both present unto the mind, of such things as fall into the capacity of her consideration. If any man think it much to advance the mind so high, let him remember from whom it proceeded, & the manner how it was created, and the most excellent estate thereof before the fall, and no doubt it will sufficiently answer that difficulty, and confirm that which I have said. And thus much for that interruption of my answer to the objection from sickness: whether the soul hath outward sense and not organical, or no. Now to prosecute the answer: I say all those which seem to be faculties altered in sicknesses, be only organical dispositions which the soul useth as she findeth them. As for the outward senses, the humidities, and superfluities of the ears in some sickness being dried up, maketh hearing more quick then in health: so the poors of smelling may be more open: and the eye by the same reason receive quicker sight: and the sense of feeling more exact: or by reason the spirits are more subtle, which thereby with greater case flow into all parts of the instrument now emptied of superfluity. Again in frantic persons, we see through dryness of the brain and sinews, what strength they become of, that four men in health are scarce able to hold them, though otherwise weak and feeble Now the outward passages of senses thus cleared, and the spirits more rare and subtle, deliver more exactly to the inward the Ideas of such things as require to be admitted: which inward senses by like disposition of the brain, more exactly discern the outward quality of things, & deliver more sincere report unto the mind, which finding all so clear giveth sentence, pronounceth, and debateth more perfectly, in respect of that distinction and clearness it findeth in those personal representations of things; which may seem unto such as consider not duly whereof it riseth, to be an increase of gift in the mind by sickness, and not greater clearness of the object. This disposition of instrument causeth some children to be more pregnant than other some, and in sickness many one to be of better advisement then in health: and if you list infer it upon the former grounds; I will not deny this to be the cause why some be idiottes and fools, and other some of quick spirit, and prompt witted. Now as this clearing of the poors, and subtiliation of spirits, is cause of these more ready and distinct actions in sickness then in health, and in youth above the tenderness of years: so in health the poors replenished with their humours, and the spirits recovering their ordinary grossness, or mediocrity, the actions become of the same condition they were before: not by any alteration of faculty, but through instrument diversly disposed. In like manner the aged, far strooken in years, fail in the execution of external actions: though their minds should rather be wiser through experience, (if any thing be learned by the practice of this life) by excrementitious humidity, and rheumatic superfluities, which drown the instrument; and an internal dryness, whereby all ways to that small rennant of spirit is stopped, through contraction and shrinking of poors, the very cundites of the spirit into all the corporal members: neither only do they fail in outward sense and motion, but by the internal also suffer like imbecility, whereupon their mind framing conclusions upon false grounds, seem to fail in that action also, not having better matter to work on. If you say unto me: why is not this helped by that inorganical sense of the mind, and so these in conveniences avoided? you must consider the mind never exerciseth that, but being withdrawn from the corporal society, & these mechanical actions, which in a manner in sleep & ecstasy it is: than it maketh choice of particulars, as it listeth itself: what, who, where, and when: neither is it tied to these outward ministers, or those Ideas which they take view of. Moreover we must remember that during this life (saving upon certain occasions extraordinary,) God hath ordained these actions corporal: neither is it necessary that wants of outward senses should be so supplied, which (before sin took such hold of soul and body) were not subject to these imbecilities, but perfectly and sincerely delivered the condition of sensible things to the minds consideration, which reposing trust in them, according to the integrity wherein they first stood, dischargeth her office of understanding, judging, and willing, as this way only it findeth cause. And thus much touching the answer to the former objections: notwithstanding whose probabilities to the contrary, you may perceive how the body only receiveth these alterations before mentioned, even as instruments of a corporal substance, and raised from the earth, subject to earthly and elementary changes, without touch of soul, or disturbing of that immortal nature, which proceeded from the breath of God, and is of a more noble race: neither are you so to understand me, as though I accounted the soul in this present state equal with the first creation: that were erroneous and against the history of man's fall, and of that curse, which ensued through disobedience, and contrary to that experience, which every one findeth of imbecility in the most excellent actions of the mind, and such as require no organ: but my discourse tendeth in this point to exempt it from corporal contagion only, which it can not in any sort receive, more than the heavens pollution from the earth, being a nature far more different in comparison then the heavens, from this inferior world, which is allotted to our use, of habitation. Having hitherto declared how perturbations rise of humours, although it be not greatly pertinent to the matter in hand, of counsel, in this passion: yet because my meaning is not only to satisfy your request in that, but also to give you argument of philosophical discourse, to occupy yourself in this heavy time, wherein both melancholy doth all it may to discourage you, and Satan the old enemy taketh advantage to serve his turn upon your present imbecility, I will add the reason of such accidents as fall unto these passions, in such probability, as my ability will afford, both for mine own exercise, and your contentment, whom in times past I have known to be delighted with study of philosophy.   

CHAP. XX. The accidents which befall melancholic persons.  
AS all other state of body, so the melancholic showeth itself, either in the qualities of the body, or in the deeds. Of the qualities which are first taken from the elements, the melancholic without adustion, is cold and dry: of such as are second, rising from the first, of colour black and swart, of substance inclining to hardness, lean, and spare of flesh: which causeth hollowness of eye, and unchearefulnes of countenance, all these more or less, some or all: either as the melancholy is ingenerate, or gotten by error of diet, hath continued longer, or short time. Of deeds, and such as are actions of the brain, either of sense and motions, dull, both in outward senses, and conceit. Of memory reasonable good, if fancies deface it not: firm in opinion, and hardly removed where it is resolved: doubtful before, and long in deliberation: suspicious, painful in study, and circumspect, given to fearful and terrible dreams: in affection sad, & full of fear hardly moved to anger, but keeping it long, and not easy to be reconciled: envious, and jealous, apt to take occasions in the worse part, and out of measure passionate, whereto it is moved. From these two dispositions of brain and heart arise solitariness, morning, weeping, & (if it be of sanguine adust) melancholy laughter, sighing, sobbing, lamentation, countenance demisse, and hanging down, blushing and bashful, of pace slow, silent, negligent, refusing the light and frequency of men, delighted more in solitariness & obscurity. These are actions which lie in our powers to do, and are called animal. Of natural actions, their appetite is of greater than their concoction, digestion slow, and excretion not so ready, pulse rare, and slow. And thus fareth it with melancholy persons in those deeds which are actions. Other deeds are certain works, and effects of their natural actions: such are nutritive juice, or excrement. Their nutritive juice as blood, and the secondary humours that rise there from, are thick and gross, their blood black, and nothing fresh. Their melancholic excrement very much, if the spleen do his part: if it fail, either by imbecility of attraction, or any hindrance of obstruction, then is it more plentiful in the veins, and greatly altereth the complexion: if it discharge not itself of the superfluity of that it hath drawn from the blood, then swelleth it, and groweth it into obstructions, causeth shortness of breathing, especially after meat, and an unnatural boiling of heat, with windiness under the left side, and plenty of humidity in the stomach, which aboundeth in spitting by hindering the first concoction in the stomach and noisome vapours, causing palpitation of the heart. The excrement of stool is hard, black, and seldom: urine pale, and very low coloured, nor much in quantity. These are the chief accidents which fall unto melancholic persons: of them I will deliver unto you the particular causes, so far as belongeth unto the charge of this melancholic discourse.   

CHAP. XXI. How melancholy altereth the qualities of the body.  
THE bodies of melancholic persons, if they be naturally given to that humour, or otherwise it hath prevailed in time upon them, are colder, and drier than others, or if they be such by error of diet, them in times past they themselves have been: partly through contagion of that humour, which with his cold altereth the complexion, and partly by the nourishment taken from the mass of blood: because all the parts are maintained, and relieved with cold and dry aliment, the rest of the blood being cooled by that gross, and earthy part. Sometimes it fareth with them otherwise, to be intemperately hot through obstruction, which may gather heat in the spleen, and so accidentally breed an hot distemper. Again if the melancholy be of the adust kind, which partaketh of heat, and becometh eager and fell, then are they also distempered in heat, or at the least not molested with cold, and howsoever it fair with them in hot or cold, always they keep dry in substance of their bodies, both the natural, and the adust a-melancholy agreeing therewith. An humidity they have of Rheum, and spitting from the stomach, whose concoction is hindered, and natural heat cooled sometimes by the spleens disorder, which lieth nigh thereunto, and may with more plenty than need requireth of that sour juice, which serveth to stir up appetite, dull that heat of the stomach wherewith the concoction is made perfect, and excrements become few: but this is a moistness excrementitious, and accidental in that part, and peradventure like in the brain, by consent of the stomach: the substance of the rest keeping dry through the nature of the nourishment, which in time maketh the complexion of like quality. They are not so well fleshed, nor in such good plight, as either they have been, or as some other complexion: by reason all the natural actions, that should serve that use, are become weaker, & as it were smothered with this soot of melancholy: neither is the melancholy blood cold and dry, a fit matter to raise up fat, or plenty of flesh: for to both these are requisite a moderation of complexion in the first qualities, and a matter of moderate temper, which may entertain both flesh and fat. Thirdly the poors of the body being not so free, for distribution of blood, by reason of their gross nourishment, and nature of the humour with which his coldness and sowernes, (for such is the taste of melancholy) closeth up the poors, or straightneth the passages, & of itself also slow of moving, the body can not be filled with that corpulency which falleth to other complexions. To the nourishment and good plight of the body, these three are necessary: complexion temperate, matter moderate, and passage free: which all falling contrary in melancholic persons, hindereth them of that good liking, & fullness of body, which otherwise they might enjoy. For if the complexion be too hot then wasteth it, and therein riseth the choleric skreetnes: if it be too cold, then raiseth it not sufficiency of nourishment of meats, drinckes, & whatsoever we use for sustentation of life: but leaveth it crude and maketh more superfluities. If it be dry, then drinketh it up unto the  parts, that which should baste and line the body with, having not to spare. If moist, then in stead of firm substance, the body is overcharged with a counterfeit kind of fat, and hydropical fog, which beareth show of good habit. If the matter be hot or dry, it soon vanisheth, or hath not that store of nourishing juice, to yield matter of flesh and fat, besides the firm nourishment. If moist, then swelleth it the body: and as water enlargeth a sponge, so doth moist nourishment soak into the body, and beareth it out, as fast substance doth naturally fill, raised from temperate nourishment. If cold, than both hath it small portion of natural juice, and flow to be passed from part to part, it is not easily received into every member, where of corpulency doth rise. The passages being either narrow of themselves, or hindered by stopping, distribution is likewise letted, very requisite to the maintenance of good liking, and moderate habit of the body: which being overlarge give entertainment and place to grossness, whether it be sound, or in appearance. Now these three falling out, cold, dry, thick and hard of passage, in melancholic persons, procure that lean, and spare body of the melancholic: except it be by former custom of diet, or naturally otherwise, which the force of melancholy hath not yet so far altered. Of this coldness and dryness, riseth hardness whereof the flesh of melancholy persons is: except the melancholy rise of some disorder of diet, or passions, and hath not yet entered so far upon the complexion. Of colour they be black, according to the humour whereof they are nourished, and the skin always receiving the black vapours, which insensibly do pass from the inward parts, taketh die and stain thereof: saving that in the beginning it may come to pass otherwise, the body white, and blood black; nature for a time serving herself of that which is purest, and leaving the grossest in the veins, till for want of better, in the end it be feign to take of the melancholic, which before it disdained: then altereth it the colour, and fairness is turned into morphe, maketh evident the humour which gave the die, & hath obscured the former beauty. And thus are the qualities of melancholy bodies altered by this gross, earthy and dark humour.   

CHAP. XXII. How melancholy altereth those actions which rise out of the brain.  
TOuching actions which rise from the brain, melancholy causeth dullness of conceit, both by reason the substance of the brain in such persons is more gross, and their spirit not so prompt and subtle as is requisite for ready understanding. Again almost all the senses standing in a kind of passive nature, a substance cold and dry, and by consequent hard, is not so meet thereto; which as it serveth well to retain that which is once engraven, so like adamant it keepeth, in comparison of other tempers, that which once it hath received: whereby as they are unfit to commit readily to memory, so retain they that is committed in surer custody. Sometime it falleth out, that melancholy men are found very witty, and quickly discern: either because the humour of melancholy with some heat is so made subtle, that as from the driest wood riseth the clearest flame, and from the lies of wine is distilled a strong & burning aqua vitae, in like fort their spirits, both from the dryness of the matter, and straining of the gross substance from which they pass, receiving a pureness, are instruments of such sharpness: which is the dry light that Heraclitus approved. To this, other reasons may be added: as exercise of their wits, wherein they be indefatigable: which maketh them seem to have that of a natural readiness, which custom of exercise, and use hath found in them. Moreover, while their passions be not yet vehement, whereby they might be overcarried, melancholy breedeth a jealousy of doubt in that they take in deliberation, and causeth them to be the more exact & curious in pondering the very moments of things: to these reasons may be added, the vehemency of their affection once raised: which carrieth them, with all their faculties thereto belonging, into the depth of that they take pleasure to intermeddle in. For though the melancholy man be not so easily affected with any other passion, as with those of fear, sadness, & jealousy, yet being once thoroughly heat with a contrary passion, retaineth the fervency thereof far longer time than any other complexion: and more fervently boileth therewith, by reason his heart and spirit hath more solliditie of substance to entertain deeply the passion, which in a more rare and thin sooner vanisheth away. Thus greediness of desire in those things which they affect, maketh them diligent and painful, wary and circumspect, and so in actions of brain and sense not inferior to the best tempers; as also it maketh them stiff in opinion. Their resolution riseth of long deliberation, because of doubt and distrust: which as it is not easily bred, so it is also hard to remove. Such persons are doubtful, suspicious, and thereby long in deliberation, because those domestical fears, or that internal obscurity, causeth an opinion of danger in outward affairs, where there is no cause of doubt: their dreams are fearful: partly by reason of their fancy waking, is most occupied about fears, and terrors, which retaineth the impression in sleep, and partly through black and dark fumes of melancholy, rising up to the brain, whereof the fantasy forgeth objects, and disturbeth the sleep of melancholy persons. These persons are also subject to that kind of suffocation in the night, which is called the mare, wherein, with some horrible vision in dream they are half strangled, and intercepted of speech, through they strive to call. This happeneth through gross melacholicke vapours in them which cause horrible and fearful apparitions, by reason of the nature of that humour, and the fancy prone through custom to conceive on the worse part, and stoppeth their wind, by occupying the passages of such spirits as rise from the brain, and flow into the nerves which serve certain muscles of respiration: it happeneth chief when they lie on their back, and somewhat too low with their head; because both the midriff (a chief muscle of respiration) is more pressed with the bowels, which lie under it, the stomach is not so firmly closed, whereby vapours more easily have vent, and the whole bulk of the chest in that position of the body, lying more heavily upon them, requireth greater force of moving faculty, whose spirit receiveth impediment of passages by these thick and melancholic fumes: and thus are the actions of the brain altered by melancholy.   

CHAP. XXIII. How affections be altered.  
TOUCHING their affections of fear and sadness, sufficiently hath been said before; saving whether is first in place, and possesseth first the melancholic heart, it may make some question. In mine opinion, fear is the very ground and root of that sorrow, which melancholic men are thrown into. For a continuance of fear, which is of danger to come, so overlayeth the heart that it maketh it as now present, which is only in expectation; and although the danger feared be absent, yet the assuredness thereof in the opinion of a melancholic brain is always present, which engendereth a sorrow always accompanying their fears. They are hardly moved to anger, except a biting and fretting choler be mixed with their melancholy, or the melancholy be of an adust kind: by reason they be over passion at another way, and have their parts of grosser sense then easily to be offended, and the heart not ready to be moved, being of a colder and drier nature: or so affected by the humour, which being once thoroughly kindled with that passion, retaineth the heat longer, and is not easily brought again into the former temper. Envious they are, because of their own false conceived want, whereby their estate, seeming in their own fantasy much worse than it is, or then the condition of other men, maketh them desire that they see other to enjoy, to better their estate: this maketh them covetours of getting, though in expense where their humour moveth them with liking, or a voidance of peril, more than prodigal. jealousy pricketh them, because they are not contented with any moderation, but think all too little for supply of their want: especially if it stand in such matters as import great supply, or otherwise they do earnestly affect: and are in fear lest communication breed whole dispossession, or make inequal partition. They interpret readily all to the worse part, suspicious lest it be a matter of farther fear, and not indifferently weighing the case, but poising it by their fantastical fear, and doubt at home. Passionate they be out of measure, whereto a vehement object & of long connuaunce urgeth them: this causeth them to be amorous, both because it is a pleasure to love, which mitigateth their inward sorrow and timidity, thinneth their blood, and dilateth the heart, and a cause to be beloved again, which of all things liketh the melancholy persons, being the greatest means of comfort unto them: from which all offices of kindness, courtesy, and grace do flow: this affection riseth not unto them by pureness of nature, but by the force of that which draweth them unto the vehemency of passion, wherein they so oft times exceed, that it bereaveth them for a time (jealousy excepted) of all other affection. If the melancholy be sanguine adust, then may it supply the want in the object, and cause an internal amorous disposition, with such dotage, that maketh no discretion where the affection is bestowed: as he that is of a merry nature will laugh at his conceit, and the angry man displeased with his own shadow. Thus far of the simple actions of brain and heart, which are altered in melancholic persons, and the manner how, with reason of their alteration: other actions are in comparison of these mixed: as mourning, rising of vain fear, or counterfeit misery, solitariness, lest occasion of grief be ministered by company and resort: silence, through retraction of spirits by their passion (except it be in mornfull plaints) to mitigate the sorrow, and stiffness of the instruments, besides the disorderly fear and heaviness which cannot either minister, nor take occasion of familiar conference and communication, wholly transporting them to the concocting of their sorrowful humour: which breedeth in them (the passion more and more increasing) a negligence in their affairs, and dissoluteness, where should be diligence. Of pace, they are for the most part slow, except peril cause them to hasten; both by reason of their members not so nimble for motion, and the mind occupied with cogitation and study stayeth the pace: as we find ourselves affected, when any matter of weight entereth into our meditatation. Moreover they are given to weeping sometimes (if the melancholy be sanguine, they exceed in laughter) sighing, sobbing, lamentation, countenance demisse, & lowering, bashfulness, and blushing, the reasons whereof and manner how they arise, because it requireth a larger discourse, I will refer them more particularly to be discussed in several Chapters following, with Philosophical causes, or probabilities (at the least) how every one of these are wrought, that you be fully instructed in that speculation of melancholy, and the accidents which follow it, as you are (more than I wish, or standeth with your present comfort) exercised in the practice.   

CHAP. XXIIII. The causes of tears, and their saltness.  
OF all the actions of melancholy, or rather of heaviness and sadness, none is so mamanifolde and diverse in parts, as that of weeping. First of all it putteth finger in the eye, and sheddeth tears: than it baseth the countenance into the bosom: thirdly it draweth the cheeks with a kind of convulsion on both sides, and turneth the countenance into a resemblance of girninge, and letteth the brows fall upon the eye lids; it bleareth the eyes, and maketh the cheeks red: it causeth the head to ache, the nose to run, & mouth to slaver, the lips to tremble: interrupteth the speech, and shaketh the whole chest with sighs, and sobs: and such are the companions of this sorrowful gesture of weeping: of which I will deliver you the reason one by one, first beginning with tears. All objects, or cause of perturbation riseth more or less grievous, or acceptable, as it is taken: and although the cause be great, if it be not apprehended, it moveth no perturbation at all. This causeth some to sorrow, whereat another rejoiceth: and other some to lament, which other some bear out with courage, or have no such sense of: and to exceed in joy or sorrow, (except reason moderate the affection) where other some keep mediocrity: by reason of certain degree of apprehension: yea though reason bear no part in the moderation. Moreover seeing it is necessary, that both brain and heart be disposed in a kind of Sympathy, to show forth the affection, as they be diversly disposed, so may the cause of perturbation more or less move and trouble. As if the brain be quicker of conceit, and of more exact discretion then the heart is ready to yield his passion, by reason of a more compact & firm temper, then is it not answerable to the apprehended hurt or danger. If it be more dull, then by reason the apprehension entereth not duly into the consideration of the present state, or imminent peril, the affection answereth not the cause. If the heart be more tender, than the brain ready: there is fear and heaviness oft times, either without cause, or more vehement than cause requireth: and thus it fareth in the rest of the perturbations, these three always concurring in the affection: the outward mover or cause, the apprehension of the brain, and the motion of the heart: according to the variety & diverse disposition of which three, the perturbations become distinct in kind, and diverse in degree. This is necessary for you to know, for the more plain delivery of the causes of the accidents before mentioned: and first of tears, whose passion is not every kind of grief, nor any one kind alike taken, neither though the grief be taken alike, and the cause just & true, yet doth the party not always shed tears, thus affected. First therefore, for the manifestation of this matter of tears we are to search what kind of thing it is that moveth weeping, then how it is to be received to work this effect, and thirdly of what disposition they are when just occasion is ministered, and the cause be so taken, that readily signify their inward passion, by that dolorous outward gesture and action. Of such causes as draw us into perturbatton & passion, that only which moveth grief and sorrow of heart causeth tears. Such weeping as seemeth to proceed of joy is of a mixed cause as shall hereafter be declared, and maketh no exception to that universal cause ofteares procured by affliction, or grievance: for else we see no man weep but in sorrow: neither do any sorrow, but upon occasion or persuasion of calamity, or hurt, either present or to come: saving those which are melancholic passionate, who notwithstanding fancy unto themselves a counterfeit occasion thereof without cause. This I need not stand upon, because it is evident of itself, and requireth no farther demonstration, the other two being of greater difficulty, & of more diligent consideration. Touching the first of the two latter, how the affection is moved for weeping, I take it necessary, the passion be not very extreme, nor of the highest degree of sorrow, neither so light and gentle that the object be contemned. For the first: if the perturbation be too extreme, and as it were ravisheth the conceit, and astonieth the heart, than tears being ordinary, and natural to a kind of mediocrity of that passion, are not afforded to an extraordinary affection: even as a joy sudden and rare taketh away for the present, the signification of rejoicing, and turneth the comfort which should be received into an admiration, in stead of mirth and cheer: so in great extremity offeare and heaviness, sorrow being converted into an astonishment, the senses ravished, and the benumbed therewith, the tears are dried up or stayed, (being effects of ordinary and of natural passion,) and others more stranger come in place, as voydaunce of urine, & ordure. For as cold in a kind of degree, moveth sense, and the same extreme becometh and taketh it quite away: and as exceeding brightness blindeth, or at the least dazzleth the sight aswell as darkness obscureth the object: so an occasion of fear being beyond ordinary compass of natural passion, seemeth to the heart, & understanding of another sort, then whereat to sorrow, or tears belong, and the tokens of ordinary affection are due: which flow not, by reason (through that great perturbation) nature is wholly violated, and keepeth no course of accustomed order: or because such is the flight of nature, from that which she so abhorreth, that hiding herself in her own centre, she draweth with her those humidities, which easily follow with the spirits and blood, and are not separable for usual excretion, besides that contraction of her poors, whereby the efflux of tears is hindered: this in my opinion is the cause: why extremity of terror or heaviness refraineth tears, especially if a fright have gone before: which is of greatest force to make this perturbation, and to shut up the poors of our bodies. This appeareth in such as are scared: whose hair seemeth to stand upright & stiff through that contraction. So then the same cause of passion in kind differing by degrees, both dolorous & full of calamity now causeth abundance of weeping, & gusheth out into brooks of tears, and anon dricth them all up, through destruction of the mind, and stupidity as it were of the heart: as though the cause of morning were altogether removed. If you do require example in the self same person of weeping, and refraining from tears in the same kind of object, yet differing in degree, that is most singular which is reported by Aristotle in the second book of his thetoricke, out of Herodotus of Amasis' king of Egypt. We are moved with compassion only (sayeth he) at the affliction of such familiars, as are not very nighly knit unto us, either by acquaintance or affinity: and of the calamity of diverse most dear friends or allies, we have not compassion: but we are affected with their hurt, as with our own: wherefore it is reported of Amasis that although he did not weep for his son, whom he saw led to be put to death: yet at the calamity of his friend Philippus, he shed tears: for that which in his friend was pitiful, showed in his son horrible, and terrible to behold: now terror, chaseth away, & swalloweth up alcompassion. Which history of Amasis, maketh clear all doubt in this point, and confirmeth that which we propound by the reason of one of the most gravest philosophers. As this over vehement fear drieth up these springs of tears, or shutteth up the passages that no way is given for them to distill: so the cause being light, and not greatly urging the heart, nature useth not to make such show of sorrow: so that at small matters or so taken, no man useth to weep. Children (for want of understanding) in a manner weep at all occasions of offence alike: which time and age afterward correcteth. Thus then in my opinion the affection is to be disposed for weeping: even in a mean, betwixt that light regard of peril or calamity wherewith no man is moved to tears, and that vehement extremity, which engendereth amazedness and astonishment, wherewith nature either is benumbed as it were, and dazzled with the extremity of passion, and neglecteth her ordinary signification of sorrow, in a case so far extraordinary: or else so far withdraweth herself into the centre of the body with her spirit, blood, and humidity, and closeth up her poors so straightly, that neither matter of tears is ready, nor passage free for them to distill by. For the natural passages and such as depend not upon voluntary opening or shutting (as of the bladder, & stool) so far only are open, as they be distended and filled with blood, humour, & spirit: which being withdrawn as in a dead body, they close together like an empty bag. But why then (say you) do some make urine for fear: and why doth not nature withhold it, aswell as tears, being a kind of excrement not much unlike? The reafon is ready: such retention as is performed by muscle & animal faculty, descending from the brain by sinews, is of another sort, then that which is accomplished by astriction of poor: again such excrements as are already congregated into a place of receipt, from whence they are to be voided out of the body hereafter, are not of like condition with that which hath as yet no separation. For the first point: the bladder; as also the fundament, have each of them a certain round muscle, which hath power of opening and closing within itself: which opening, way is given to the excrement, that of itself (finding passage) issueth out of the body: or without opening (and it be a liquid excrement as urine is) if the muscle shut not close, or retentive feebled, it voideth also, though not so plentifully as being full open. Now in fears that exceed, the spirits influent into that muscle (as all are such that pertain to sense and motion) are called back, as I have before declared, to their proper fountains, and so it being left destitute, receiveth a kind of paralytical disposition for the time, and faileth in his office, which is the cause of such unuoluntary excretion. Now if you consider & remember how the urine passeth from the kideneys by those long vessels, you shall well perceive there can be no reflux backward, though it be forced. for they descend not directly, opening themselves as a touch hole into a gun, but sloplings betwixt the substance of the bladder, with certain slender and thin skins, which immediately after the entrance of the humour close up, in such sort, as the fuller the bladder is, the firmer is their hold, as you may see in the leather clack of a pair of bellows: experience hereof is made manifest in a bladder, which being blown retaineth the air and suffereth not to vent, though it have entrances, such as I have spoken for the urine. This then is one hindrance why the urine can not be retracted the way being made up by those skins, & the manner of the entrance such of that excrement into the bladder, why such stopping can not be in them, as falleth out by closing of poors, that happeneth to other parts through evacuation for these passages are neither open, because they be full: nor close, because they be empty, but are the one for the other, at our voluntary pleasures: to this is the largeness of the passages to be added, which hinder the close sinking of all sides together,  the position of the body downward direct: and thus much for the difference of the retention and excretion, and how by reason the parts containing the exerement no calling back of humours can be, as in other parts which have flux and reflux free. Touching the manner of excrement, this difference also is to be holden, that vuch humours as are not yet separated for evacuation, follow the course of spirits, and ebb and flow with them, being within the regiment of nature, which the urine contained in his natural urinal, and attending the opening of the passage and destitute of those active spirits can not do: and this I take to be the causes, why in extreme passions of fear, urine may pass against his will, that notwithstanding can shed no tears by the same extremity. The third point remaineth, for the more easy declaration of this doleful gesture, of what disposition of body they are of, who are apt to tears. They are almost altogether of a moist, rare, and tender body, especially of brain and heart, which both being of that temper, carry the rest of the parts into like disposition: this is the cause why children are more apt to weep, than those that are of greater years, and women more than men, the one having by youth the body moist, rare & soft, and the other by sex. Whereby tears both easily flow, and are supplied with plentiful matter, if with rareness of body and humidity, the brain above the rest exceed that way: and the eyes be great, & veins & passages there about large: them wanteth there nothing to the fountain of tears, even upon small occasion: contrarily they which have their bodies drier by nature, and more compact, and the passages and poors close, as men in comparison of women & children: such hardly yield forth that sign of sorrow though the occasion may require it. Thus you understand what occasion moveth weeping, how taken, and what state of body they be of, that easily water their cheeks, when sorrow and calamity afflicteth. Now let us consider the matter of tears, what it is, and whence particularly, and properly they flow, and manner how. The matter is the excrementitious humidity of the brain, not contained in the veins: for else would tears not be clear, nor of a waterish colour: but resembling the colour of urine, receive a tincture from the thinnest part of the blood, and so appear yellow, except the straining of the humour might seem to clarify them, which can not so be. For, straining, although it cast away impurity, it altereth not colour: as strain claret wine as often as you will, it keepeth still the colour. Again the tincture of yellow; being of a choleric whey in the blood which is most thin, would nothing hinder the passage of the tear, nor remain behind in the strainer. Then we may resolve upon this point, that tears rise of the brains, thinnest & most liquid excrement; whereof (being the moistest part of the whole body, and twice so much in quantity as the brain of an ox) it hath great plenty, even more than any other part, both in respect of his temper, and largeness. This excrement is voided ordinarily by the palate, the nose, and the eyes, by certain passages ordained for veins, arteries, and sinews, from that carnel which is placed in the saddle of the bone called the wedge, which is direct over the palate of the mouth: this carnel is there placed, that the excrement might not rush suddenly into these parts, but gently distill into them. The most ordinary passage of thin humour is by the palate and nose: the palate receiveth it directly, the nose from the eyes; lest they should be molested by continual flux: into the eyes it floweth by the passage of the second couple of nerves, which serve to move the eye, not entering the substance of them, but passing on all sides floweth to the eyes, and from thence is received of the fleshly carnel in the inner corner of the eye, and so passeth into the nose, and voideth out, to purge the head thereby: and this is the ordinary course of that humidity, which voided from the brain into the nose. Upon occasion of grief, or trouble of smoke or wind, this thin liquor floweth from all parts, & is received of another fleshly carnel under the upper eye lid towards the ears, & from thence also watereth them, and trickleth down the cheeks. So than you perceive the matter of tears, & by what streams it voideth, and how it is conveyed: it remaineth last of all to lay open unto you what causeth the flux out of the eyes, seeing ordinarily it should pass into the nose, or through the palate be voided out at the mouth; and how in weeping, nature dischargeth herself of this excrement. For clearing of which point, you must call to remembrance the kind of passion, wherewith nature is charged in matter of grief or fear; which is an enforcement of flight into her own centre, not having whither else to flee: whereby she gathereth in one her spirits, and blood, & calleth them in, partly withdrawing them from that fearful object, & partly by uniting of forces, enableth herself to make greater resistance against that which annoyeth. These spirits are such as pass from the principal parts, of the heart, brain, and liver, and give life, nourishment, sense and motion to the rest of the members of our bodies. So then the brain being thus replenished with his flowing spirits, is fuller than it was before, and of necessity warmer, heat always accompanying spirit: with the spirit, refloweth also the blood, and humours: and that all may become safe, nature maketh such contraction of the substance of the brain, and parts thereabout, that as one desirous to hold fast with his hand that which is apt to flow forth, loseth by his hard handling and compression, which otherwise he might retain, so it expresseth that which by thinness is ready to void, and forcing with spirit, & pressing with contracted substance, signifieth by shower of tears, what storm tosseth the afflicted heart, and overcasteth the cheerful countenance. And this is the manner of the watering of the sorrowful cheeks, and visage disfigured with lamentation, which being by this double means enforced, issue in more plenty, than the passage into the nostrils can readily discharge: the abundance whereof drencheth the eyes, & overflowing the brims of the eye lids, filleth the bosom with tears. This causeth the nose to run, and the mouth to slaver: even the sudden breach of these waters, faster seeking vent, then agreeth with nature's ordinary avoidance. They are salt of taste, through that heat of the eye, which turneth easily that excrement into saltness, besides the mixture of the salt humidity which is always about it. For the eye of any one being touched with the tongue, giveth a manifest release of saltness: which riseth of that moist excrement, altered into such taste by the eyes heat. That the eyes be exceeding in heat, besides manifest experience of of touch, the plenty of spirit which they ordinarily possess, the store of arteries and veins, the plenty of fat round about, the celerity of motion do argue sufficiently the same. Neither is that ordinary passage of humidity from the brain, whereby their heat may be tempered, lest they become thereby sore, and withered, the least argument of their hot temper, which is not afforfoorded to any part of the body the heart only excepted. Lastly the aptness to be offended with heat, and ready offence taken that way, sufficiently declareth whereto their nature bendeth.   

CHAP. XXV. Why and how one weary for joy, and laugheth for grief: why tears and weeping endure not all the time of the cause; and why the finger is put in the eye.  
IN the former chapter mention was made of weeping for joy: here you may demand a reason, why a joyful passion, yieldeth forth so sorrowful an action; neither do they that weep feign, as a man will counterfeit laughter: for tears cannot be counterfeited, because they rise not of any action or faculty voluntary, but natural: & the weeping caused of joy is as hearty, as that which riseth upon conceit of sorrow. We do see in the works of nature contrary effects wrought by the same cause; so the same effect ensueth upon contrary causes, through the diverse manner of the working. You see how the Sun altereth the whiteness of a man's skin into blackness, and how it maketh cloth white, it softeneth wax, and hardeneth clay. Again we see how the cold withereth the herb, as doth the heat: and causeth the earth to be warm, that the fountains smoke again, as doth the Sun: and is as requisite with us in his season, for the fertility of the earth, as the reflection of the Sun beams. What marvel then, if contraries in passions bring forth like effects; as to weep & laugh, both for joy & sorrow? For as it is oft seen that a man weary for joy, so is not strange to see one laugh for grief; whereof examples are daily: as if a man taketh up that which is burning hot, having thought it had been cold, he will laugh at the hurt he feeleth: likewise if one assay to handle another man's wound, the wounded will declare the discontentment with laughter: even as a man that is tickled, will laugh though he take no pleasure in tickling, but rather mislike & discontentment. With such kind of laughter did Democritus grieve at the vanities of this life: which also moved Heraclitus to weep. And sometimes in urgent distress, the anguish and vexation of mind, is declared with this kind of Sardonian laughter, as if the heart took pleasure, whereat it is grieved. This is clear, & needeth no longer discourse: the reason is not so evident, which I will now make plain unto you. As you heard before how tears in sorrow do issue out of the eyes by compression, & that internal fullness of spirits, & heat which forceth out these tears; so joy & gladness being an enlargement of the heart, & brain, & all the internal parts, especially of the spirits, which do as it were issue out, to welcome the joyful object, partly thaough the enlargement of the passages, & partly through the access of spirits to the outward parts, the moisture before mentioned is forced out of the eyes, & distilleth into drops of tears: especially if commiseration & compassion be mixed therewith: such was joseph's weeping over his brethren; framed of joy of their presence and compassion of their estate: and so did jonathan weep over David; and David joying at jonathans' kindness, with commiseration of his tears, exceeded him in weeping. This most commonly falleth out, when he whom we love hath escaped danger, or we think through over long absence, somewhat unprosperous might, or hath befallen him. Now the consideration of the present safety, mingled with remembrance of peril or want, for the present, breaketh out into tears, which are easily to be voided, both through compression, as hath been before showed, and by forcible expulsion. I see you desire farther, as well why grief procureth laughter, as strange an effect from the cause, as tears are from joy & comfort. Before I lay this open unto you, ye are to know what parts are first affected with laughter, and how they draw others into the same fellowship of action. The parts which first are affected in laughter, are the heart and the midriff, whereto the heart by his call and skin is more straightly fastened then in beasts; the object of laughter being a ridiculous thing, mixed of pleasure and displeasure (else were it not ridiculous) causeth the heart to move with great celerity his contrary motions of opening, and shutting, which being so repugnant, cause a marvelous agitation in the part, by this agitation, and strait coupling of the heart to the midriff, which draweth by consent other parts into like motion, the laughter is delivered by interrupted expiration: by reason the midriff in his contraction is not suffered quietly to finish it, but is by the hearts trouble restrained & slowed in his fall. Thus knowing the cause of laughter, and the instruments of the gesture, I shall more easily manifest unto you, why a man may sometimes laugh for grief and discontentment, as well as weep for joy. Of all the muscles in the body, the midriff is the most noble, and of greatest use, whose action is in continual motion, and never ceaseth, not so much as in sleep (when all the rest take their ease) for the necessity of breathing: with this muscle do accord diverse others; especially those of the neither jaw and cheeks and lips, taking their nerves from the fourth couple increased by the sixth, which rise from the pith of the chine in the neck. So then, the midriff being affected with any kind of extraordinary motion (as it is in grief) easily draweth the cheeks, and lips into like motion. But how is the midriff affected in grief? even much like as it is in laughter: that is to say, hindered in his free falling by the contraction of the heart, which in grief calleth in his spirits, closeth itself, & filleth the neighbour parts with more store of blood than is ordinary; which being so replenished, the midriff is drawn with the call of the heart, and hath not his own liberty in his contraction: by which means the expiration is delivered by fits, and not wholly, as in ordinary breathing, the midriff (resembling in use the leather of a pair of bellows) being joined round about to the sides of the chest: which answereth the two boards of the bellows. This also draweth the consent of the lips and cheeks, the muscles thereof agreeing with the midriff in their nerves, which make like contraction to that in laughter, after a counterfeit manner in pain and ache that one presently feeleth or feareth. The other kind, which is of grief of mind, as that of Hannibal for the distress of Carthage, and his present calamity, is of a mixed cause, compounded of some joy, which riseth of confidence of remedy or revenge, which causeth a dilatation of joy, entermeddled with contraction of grief: so a man that hath received a displeasure of his enemy, and assured how he may be even with him, will laugh, though he have indignation at the displeasure, upon hope of requittance: whereof riseth a certain joy mixed with grief, that forceth out a Sardonian, bitter laughter, short, and overtaken with more grief, which with vapour and spirit, through that dilatation of the heart, filleth the cheeks, and causeth their muscles to be withdrawn to their heads, show their teeth, and fashion the countenance into that kind of grinning which is apparent in laughter. Thus much by the way of laugter, by occasion of that weeping, which falleth unto such as upon cause of joy break out into tears. If you desire to know more of this merry gesture, I refer you to a treatise of laughter, written by Laurence joubert of mountpelier, a Philosopher, and Physician, in my judgement not inferior to any of this age. The cause why weeping endureth not all the time of the sorrow, but most commonly at the first brunt only of grief tears are shed, is partly by reason time acquainteth the heart with the sorrow, so is the contraction less, the danger not being so strange. Again, that moisture is partly emptied, which ministereth matter unto tears, & reason in time dealeth with the affection, which peradventure moderateth the grief, whereby it less urgeth. The finger is usually put in the eye in weeping, by reason the tear falling into the eye with his saltness procureth a kind of itching about the carnel of tears, which requireth aid of the singer to be expressed at their first fall: afterward the part acquainted with that quality, and one tear drawing on another, such expression is not so necessary. Besides this cause of rubbing the weeping eye, a strange matter therein requireth wiping, which also moveth the finger to hast to the eye watered with tears: but this is after a while; the other before almost any tear fall, as though they were expressed with rubbing. And thus much touching the causes of tears, which bear the greatest part in weeping: now ye shall understand how other parts of that gesture are performed, and by what means.   

CHAP. XXVI. Of other parts of weeping: why the countenance is cast down, the forehead loureth, the nose droppeth, the lip trembleth, the cheeks are drawn, and the speech is interrupted.  
IN weeping the countenance is cast down, by reason the spirits are retracted, which are the authors (by tonicall motion) of erection: as a mast corded on all sides standeth erect: which in sorrow being withdrawn from the muscle, causeth them to yield to the poised of the head: and so bendeth it downward, whereto it is more inclined then backward: by reason the rowels of the neckbone, with their snaggs hinder that inclination. The forehead lowreth after a paralytical fashion, being destitute of his spirits, and all the former parts filled with that excrementitious moisture of tears before mentioned: which is in that abundance in persons moist of brain, tender and rare of poors, that not finding sufficient way at the eyes, it passeth through the nose, as the other part by the palate into the mouth, and so filleth all full of tears and slaver. The lip trembleth, because the spirit which should uphold it in his right position, is now in greatest measure departed: so that the weight of the lip, striving with the imbecility of the part, causeth a trembling, which is betwixt erection, and plain declination: as if a man hold a thing too heavy till he begin to be weary: though at the first he hold it steady, at the length striving above his power to bear it, maketh his hand to quake and tremble, the remnant of strength, striving with the weight. The upper lip remaineth steady and still, because it hangeth, and requireth no prop of erection: yet appeareth it somewhat longer than before, being fully stretched out with the weight, and not borne up, & restrained by the spirit. The cheeks are drawn much like as in laughter: not by any influence of the lively spirit, which in laughter replenisheth the countenance, and causeth the eyes to sparkle, and filling the muscles of the cheeks with a subtle vapour, causeth them to strain for the avoidance: as in streaking, the muscles are contracted to exclude a vaporous excrement: but the contraction of the cheeks in weeping seemeth to me, not to rise of any other cause, then by an excrementitious vapour, which passeth with the humidity of tears, from the brain into the cheeks, and forceth nature to make contraction to discharge itself of that vapour: joined with the consent, which is betwixt the muscles of the jaws and lips with the midriff: whose remission, and slackening, being hastened by the contraction of the heart in grief, contracteth also the foresaid lips and cheeks, with which it consenteth by the fourth and sixth pair of nerves, derived into both parts, from the marrow of the chine bone of the neck. These are also the causes, of the whole deformity of the face in weeping, which chiefly contracteth the visage in expiration, in which the heart hath more power over the midriff being slakened, then in inspiration, wherein by dilating of the chest for use of breath it is extended. The speech is interrupted in weeping, because the chest in expiration doth not fall and sink, by gentle declination equally: but hindered by that contraction of the heart, remitteth his extension, as it were by strokes: as if a man would take a pair of bellows, and not suffer them being enlarged, and full of air to shut of themselves, but by an unequal pressing of the hands, cause them to puff by fits, and part the blowing into sundry blasts, which at once might be avoided. So the voice rising of the air expired, as that is voided, in like sort the voice is fraimed: which causeth those that weep to speak more indistinctly, and divided sentences, then when they are free from that affection. Moreover speech doth require not only the yielding of the chest through the poised, but standeth in need also of the intercostal muscles, and those of the top of the windpipe with them of the belly which through grief or fear being now not so replenished with spirits, the authors of motion of those muscles, can not deliver the voice smooth and uniform as before, more than a child is able sufficiently to way down by his strength of hand a smiths bellow, that is forced by poyces to finish that which strength would perform at once. Neither is the speech interrupted, and broken only by the disorderly expiration, but the inspiration being by sobs cutteth also the voice, & marreth the distinct pronunciation, the cause whereof as also of sighing I will deliver unto you in the next chapter. Thus you have (sobbing excepted) the reasons of all the parts of weeping, so far as my conjecture by reason in matters so hidden can gather: I will proceed to the causes of sighing and sobbing, and how they be procured, and by what means, and so finish the whole mournful gesture of weeping.   

CHAP. XXVII. The causes of sobbing and sighing and how weeping easeth the heart.  
BEsides the former actions of sorrow, weeping is for the most part accompanied (if it be vehement) with sobs and sighs: of which two, sobbing is never without weeping, sighs are ordinary and common upon causes that force no tears, as every one hath experience. For understanding of the causes of sobs, it is necessary for you to call to mind that which hath been said of the use of the Diaphragma, or midriff, and the outward intercostalls, or outward muscles betwixt the ribs, and the manner how the heart is affected in grief and sorrow. The dilating of Diaphragma is to enlarge the chest for taking breath. This is only required, if we be not more than ordinarily urged to breath: which if we be, then do the outward muscles of the ribs dilate the chest also, and so increase the enlargement. Now when matter of grief enforceth tears, the diaphragm, and the muscles receive a weakness, by reason of retraction of spirits, that they are feign for the dilatation of the chest to make more pulls then one, as you heard before in the motion of contraction, so that the breath is not drawn at one straining of their cores and fibers, but by divers inspiration: besides the heat of those parts being retracted, maketh them less pliable unto the force of the muscles: whereby the respiration is with more difficulty perfoormed, which requireth more use of dilatation, than before: by reason the heat about the heart itself is now greater than before the passion, which bringeth thereto a kind of suffocation. That cooling of the heart which is sensibly felt by sudden evil tidings, or mishap unlooked for, or whatsoever new calamity, riseth through access of the blood and spirits: which although they be hot, yet wanting somewhat of that heat which is fervent, and natural to the heart, and of the heat of those spirits which are resident there, for the time seemeth to cool in comparison of the heat which the heart felt before: as a man would cast hot water to that which boileth most fervently: which although it be hot, yet inferior in degree to the heat of ferventness, it mitigateth the scalding heat, and slaketh the boiling. In like manner at the first recourse of these humours, and ranging spirits, although the heart seem to receive a chilling, yet anon by contraction, and plenty of spirits which are apt to take heat it receiveth a greater necessity of breathing, which being not answered through imbecility of the breathing parts, dischargeth the office of respiration by sobs, which should be performed by one draft of breath. And these I take to be the causes of sobbing. Sighing hath no other cause of moving then to cool and refresh the heart, with fresh breath, and pure air, which is the nourishment and food of the vital spirits, besides the cooling which the heart itself receiveth thereby. The heart being contracted as hath been said, delivereth not so freely his sooty and smoky excrements, whereby the spirits become impure, and it boileth with more distemper: which necessity of fresh spirit and cool air enforceth a deeper enlargement of the chest than is ordinary; in which not only the midriff playeth his part, but outward intercostalls or middle muscles of the ribs, besides certain of the shoulders, do their endeavour to this so necessary an office. Moreover it is very probable that the midriff by access of humours and vapours to the parts there about is charged with vaperous superfluity, which is by stretching itself, as in yawning, avoided: when the muscles are distended by any vapour, of what sort soever it be of, being plentiful and abundant, it stirreth them to a contraction, which causeth a kind of pressing, whereby they deliver themselves of this excrement. This in yawning causeth that gaping, & sometimes accompanied with streaking, when we find ourselves unlusty, and undisposed to stir or exercise: which falling to the midriff, may cause a kind of sighing, when a man hath no cause: as having cause, it helpeth it forward. For whosoever yawneth, shall perceive his chest and midriff dilated in such manner as in sighing, & feel about the heart a kind of refreshing: even as when he sigheth. To these causes may be added the weight of the heart, which is by reason of the access of humours about his veins and arteries to his contraction, increased: whereby it lieth more heavily upon the midriff then before the burden whereof it seeketh to ease itself of, by such streitching, which somewhat lifteth up the heart for the time, and so the Diaphragma is recomforted: so that the necessity of fresh air, the cooling of the heart, the easing of the burden thereof upon the midriff, the avoiding of vaporous excrements out of the midriff, seem to me causes final, & the midriffes' dilatation, whose motion the whole chest followeth the efficient cause of sobing & sighing. And thus much concerning the two dolorous actions of sighing & sobbing, whereto after I have added how it easeth the heart to weep & sob, I will end this chapter. By reason of the withdrawing of the blood & spirits about the heart in fear, and sorrow, it is necessary, that much vapour should arise, stirred up by the heat thereof working upon the moisture these vapours besides the ordinary excrements of the brain before mentioned, may yield another part unto tears, being congealed in the brain, and upper parts that are thick, cool, membranous, enclosed with the skull, and placed over the rest, as a stillitory helm over the body. Now weeping by making avoidance to these vapours, doth discharge that fullness wherewith it was before strained and oppressed. These vapours cause that redness in the cheeks, and about the ears of those that weep, heateth the face, and causeth the head to ache, whereof the heart being eased, receiveth a farther enlargement then at the beginning of the grief, and so enjoyeth that small comfort which weeping affordeth. It may seem probable that the sobbing and sighing (differing only in that sobs are sighings interrupted, and sighs sobs at large) if they be not vehement and long by agitation of the chest expelling of the smothered vapours, and drawing in of fresh air, give also some comfort: if they be vehement, then shake they the heart and midriff too much, and cause a soreness about those parts, especially about the heart spoon, which is most traveled in sobbing, and whereto the midriff is fastened. Thus much concerning those actions which are animal, and lie in our power (some absolutely, and some after a sort) to do or not to do, altered by passion of sorrow, and falling into melancholy persons: it resteth to show, how melancholy procureth this laughing and weeping, and so to proceed to those natural actions which are altered by this humour, with the reason of such effects.   

CHAP. XXVIII. How melancholy causeth both weeping and laughing, and the reasons how.  
IT hath been before declared how melancholy causeth fear and sorrow of heart, by false imagination, raised through fearful vapours rising to the brain, and passing by the heart, even before the imagination be moved, causeth a contraction thereof: which is the action of fear: this fear breedeth sorrow; the sorrow and fear accompanying each other, make such contraction as before hath been said to be cause of tears; the matter being partly supplied by the ordinary excrements of the brain, and partly through those vapours which arise from the heart overcharged with concourse of humours, which are retracted by the spirits; who upon matter of discontentment hast unto the place of defence, and assemble together, flying the irksome object, and addressing themselves as it were to make resistance. The parts about the eyes being porous and rare, the brain moist, and the party apt to weep, upon this melancholy disposition springeth that issue of tears out of melancholic eyes: and these I suppose to be the causes, why melancholic persons without any outward occasion, fall into weeping and lamentation. Why they laugh, and that excessively, the cause is of more difficulty to find out, and the reason not so manifest, whereof as I am led by conjecture and probabilities, I will deliver you mine opinion. You may remember how the midriff next unto the heart is the chief cause of laughter; so that of necessity one of these must be affected in that action. The heart is always affected in true laughter, and not always in a feigned kind, which is only a shaking of the chest, and retraction of the lips, without the lively and cheerful eye, fraught with the joyful spirits, which replenish the merry countenance. This kind is that which melancholic persons without object break out into; except the melancholy rise of adustion of blood, and become black choler, which affecteth also the heart with a feigned conceit of merriness; even as wine giveth it comfort, and stirreth the spirits to that liveliness & cheer, whereof every one hath experience. Now then for the better laying open this melancholic action, we are to distinguish of laughter: whereof there be two sorts; the one is true and unfeigned, rising from a comfort and rejoicing of the heart; and the other a counterfeit and false, wherein the heart receiveth no contentment, but either itself, or the midriff moved dissorderly with shaking by any annoyance; and moveth also the chest, and muscles of the jaws and checks by consent of nerves, and so counterfeiting a laughing gesture, wherein the heart taketh no pleasure. The former kind may rise of inward cause, as well as outward; when the vapour of adust melancholy of blood, or rather when it first taketh that heat, perfumeth the heart with a pure & clear fume, whereat it is alured to joy and cheer: which vapour and fume rising of the most mildest and temperate humour, before the full adustion be accomplished, and mixed with the other humours and spirits, breedeth that pleasant vain, which overtaketh melancholic persons, which peradventure otherwise not so delayed, would turn the heart to annoyance. This way melancholy carrying a winie and aromatical spirit, raised by that heat, may procure an hearty laughter, & not only dispose as wine doth, the spirit thus raised being more familiar than that of wine, & so compelling as it were the heart to break forth into that action of rejoicing. The false kind of laughter which proceedeth first from the midriff, most commonly is affected by melancholy, through a tickling vapour or spirit, which riseth from the lower parts, and stirreth the midriff; as they which are wounded in the chest, and upon dressing are there about touched, do plainly perceive to move, & shake, and retract itself, (whose motion the chest followeth) and to force out a count erfet manner of laughter, whereof the heart hath no part; nor countenance, saving the girning of the mouth, which is here but small, maketh any pleasant show. This accident pertaineth chiefly to that melancholy which resteth about the spleen, the mesaraicke veins, and port vain of the liver; which breatheth an itching and tickling breath, whereof the midriff taking the sense, shaketh & moveth, with endeavour to shun the unwelcome guest, and to avoid the touch thereof. Now that being once moved, the other instruments of laughter answer with like motion, and all agree in this counterfeit gesture, which in appearance seemeth like the pleasant look of a light and merrily disposed heart. This accident of laughter for the most part is when the melancholy passion beginneth, or anon after, before the blood getteth a farther eagerness, and those jolly spirits be wasted: which after they once be spent, & the heat either outrageous, or delayed or distinguished by unaptness of matter, them is the comedy turned into tragedy, pleasantness into fury, & in the end, mirth into mourning much like as it fareth with such as intemperately take in their cups, & are over surfeited with wine or strong drink; these of them that are of nature cold and dry, & of this melancholy complexion void of adustion, at the first cup receive a marvelous cheering about the heart, the dryness and coldness of their inward parts being soaked and steeped as it were, like dry leather in oil: if they proceed farther, the former modesty anon altereth itself into the contrary extremity of chat and excessive babbling, the spirit of the wine overruling the spirit of their natural complexion: yet a little more sipping, and this melancholy receiveth such heat, as rage and fury entereth possession of heart, and brain; and as he had taken a draft of Circe's cup, he fareth in respect of manners & behaviour, as though he were turned into a wild beast. In the end with farther carouses of excess, the wine, for the while quite dispos sessing the spirits of their regiment & office, and quenching as it were the one heat, & delaying the natural heat of his body with immoderate quantity, the mirth & cheer, the pleasant talk, the rage & fury give place, & in steed of that jollity, succeedeth silence, stupidity, sleep & sottishness. So in melancholy, while that dry & subtle spirit is supplied with convenient matter, & is lightened in the melancholic part, all is on the hoy for a time, which being consumed by heat, the store thereof being but small in respect of the gross residence, the melancholic person becometh afterward sad, heavy, & uncherful. Thus you perceive (I think) sufficiently how melancholic persons, some laugh & some weep, & in the same melancholic, what causeth mirth, & what tears. Before I proceed to the natural actions changed and depraved by melancholy, I cannot pass over an action which is very usual to melancholic folk, and that is blushing, with shunning of the look and countenance of men, which the Grecians call Dysopia; and because it requireth a larger discourse than the end of this Chapter will suffer, I will treat of them in the next.   

CHAP. XXIX. The causes of blushing and bashfulness, and why melancholic persons are given thereunto.  
THE affection that moveth blushing is shame, howsoever it riseth, either upon false conceit, or deserved cause. Shame is an affection of grief, mixed with anger against ourselves, rising of the conscience of some known, or supposed to be known offence, either in doing that, which ought not to be done, or omitting that which was requisite of us to be done. This description I will unfold unto you more at large: that in shame every one is grieved, experience maketh plain, besides reason leadeth thereunto. Every passion of the heart is with joy, or with grief, either sincere and simple, or mixed, as in ridiculous occasions: in shame there is no absolute joy nor comfort, therefore there must needs be a displeasantnesse or else a mixed disposition of sorrow and cheer: this there is not, by reason shame casteth down the countenance, filleth the eye with sorrow, and as much as may be withdraweth the lively and comfortable spirit into the centre of the body, not unlike unto fear and sadness. It appeareth mixed with anger, by reason every one feeleth a kind of indignation within himself, and offereth as it were a vehement inablinge of himself: for the offence we are angry with ourselves, because the fault is ours, and from us riseth the cause of grief; as in absolute anger the cause is from other, and upon others we seek the revenge. Where there is no conscience, there can not be any sense of fault: for that it is which layeth our actions to the rule, and concludeth them good or bad: so although the fault be committed in deed, and yet no conscience made thereof, it is taken for no offence, neither can give cause of this internal grief & revengement. To these clauses I add an offence known, or so supposed: for otherwise, though a man be grieved and sorry therefore, yet before it be known to others is he not ashamed. This causeth that men make no doubt of doing that in secret, which for shame they would not do openly; yea in such things as of themselves are not dishonest, nor disallowable. Moreover, it riseth upon offence, committed in that thing which lay in our power (as we took it) to remedy, or better to have discharged ourselves in doing or omitting. Therefore no man is ashamed of an ague, or of the gout, or to have broken his legs, or any such occasion, as to have been spoiled, or to die etc. but only in those things wherein we take ourselves to have our part, and to rise upon our own default: so are we both ashamed of the action, and of all tokens thereof. Now seeing that all offence, is neither in doing amiss, or neglecting that should be done, in either of both consisteth matter of shame. The description of shame thus being declared, I proceed to show how it forceth redness into the ears and cheeks, and causeth us neither to bear other men's countenances and looks, nor with courage and boldness to bear up our own. The grief that nature conceiveth from ourselves, is not so strange, as that which is foreign, and outward, but far more familiar, and thence therefore in all parts more known. Moreover the cause is more transitory and fading; especially, if the offence be small and of no great note. Again the grief is not for any deprivation of that, whereof the use is so necessary, as loss of friends, goods, peril, poverty do all import, nor of any singular pleasure, wherein nature or will took their chief contentment. These qualities of shame joined with anger, procureth that redness in the face, which we call blushing. The tincture of red ariseth on this sort: the heart discontented with the openness of the offence, maketh a retraction of blood, and spirit at the first, as in fear and grief; and because it feeleth no greater hurt then of laughter, or rebuke of word, or such like touch, seeketh no farther escape, than a small withdrawing of the spirit and blood by the first entrance of the perturbation: so that the necessity being no more urgent, the blood and spirit break forth again more vehemently, and fill the parts about the face more than before, and causeth the redness. This is helped forward with that anger, which is mixed with shame, which forceth in some sort, these retracted spirits and blood to reflowe with more strength, as we see the blood soon up of a choleric person. The passion is not so vehement to close up the spirits, and to retain any longer time, for the cause before alleged; and although it were, yet would the anger, and inward revengement make way to the blood and spirits, to give that shamefast colour. Thus you understand what manner of perturbation causeth blushing, what it is, and how it breedeth the stain: but you will peradventure say, why do not all that are ashamed blush, and why some more than other some? This I suppose to be cause: in blushing these points are to be considered for answer of this question; the quality of the blood and spirit, the passage, & nature or substance of the face, which receiveth this reflux. If the blood be gross and thick, and the passages not so free, then is the course of blood slow, & the countenance little altered. If the skin be over thick, or over rare, them doth it not admit through the thickness of the spirits, or at the least maketh not that show, nor retaineth them through the rareness and thinness, and by exoperation make no appearance of redness: this is the cause why many ashamed be not so ready to blush. Besides this disposition of spirit, humour and substance of the face, the measure of the shame more or less, helpeth and hindereth blushing. For some there are affected more vehemently, and othersome moderately, & othersome not a whit: who blush not, because they are not at all ashamed. By that hath been declared you may gather, why the younger sort, and women easily blush: even through rareness of their body and spirits, joined with simplicity, which causeth doubt of offence: and this is the cause why we commend blushers, because it declareth a tender heart, and easily moved with remorse of that which is done amiss, & a fear to offend, and a care lest it should commit aught worthy of blame. Furthermore it showeth a conscience quick, and tender, and an upright sentence of the mind, agreeable to this engraven maxims of good and evil: and thus much shall suffice you for blushing. As for the shunning of men's countenances, and bashfulness, either in beholding, or being beheld, it riseth upon a guiltiness in conceit, or in effect, in that we fear is known to others wherein we have offended, or stand in doubt we shall offend. This conceit causeth us to hide ourselves, and to withdraw our presence from the society of men, whom we fear do view our faults in beholding us, and whereof our presence stirreth up the remembrance. Wherefore we being desirous to cover and hide our offence, seek also to be hidden and covered, who have deserved the blame: especially from such of whom we have greatest reverence, and of whose estimation and censure we stand most in awe of. Now because the viewing of another causeth the like from him again, therefore doth the guilty mind abstain there from: that it provoke not the eye of another whom he doth behold: especially if the other party look upon him again, then is he presently outcountenanced through the guilty conceit, and jealousy of the crime which he suspect to be revealed. Moreover the countenance being as it were the graven character of the mind, the guilty person feareth least that be red in his forehead, whereof he is guilty in his heart: which augmenteth the grief, when he seethe himself eyed more than (by turning aside his own countenance) when he beholdeth it not. Thus much touching the former bashful actions, whether they rise upon cause, or opinion only: it remaineth of this chapter to show, how melancholic persons are much subject to both, though they have committed nothing deserving rebuke, or worthy of shame. That which befalleth youth, by their tender age in blushing, the same in a manner happeneth to melancholic persons by their complexion: youth and children, if they come in place of reverend persons will easily blush, not of any fault committed, but of reverence to the parties: nature as it were secretly in respect, condemning her imperfections in that age, whereof the presence of both maketh a kind of comparison. Moreover the nature careful of that which is seemly and decent, not acquainted with such presence, doubteth of error and uncomeliness, and distrusting itself, blusheth as if offence had been committed. This is the cause why the young take occasion sooner than the aged, and why reverend and unacquainted presence causeth this passion. They which are of more years, by reason of experience and further knowledge, which breedeth an assurance, more hardly blush, and familiarity and custom maketh greater boldness. Even so the melancholic person, through his internal mislike, and cause of discouragement, hath little assurance or contentment in his actions whatsoever: Whereby without cause he easily groweth into a conceit of some absurdity committed where none is: this causeth him to blush, and to express by outward redness of colour the internal passion: especially this befalleth him, if he carry any conscience of former vice committed: then doth that overcharge and set all out of order, chiefly if it mingle the passion with fear, and the quality of the blood and spirit, largeness of poors, and disposition of the skin in the face answer thereunto. But how, will you say, can the melancholy person have his spirit and blood so disposed, which I have declared to be gross and thick, and the passages of their bodies not free? Truth it is that all melancholic persons are not so disposed to this action of blushing, by reason they are of blood, spirit, and body unapt thereunto: but certain only who have melancholy not equally disposed, but resteth under the ribs, & anoieth chief with his vapour, and who are such not from their parents, but by some accident of diet or evil custom, which notwithstanding retain as yet the same disposition of their firm parts they had before: or have some other humour of thinner substance, whereby their blood is not so dull of ebbing & flowing: these I take to be the melancholic blushers only, and the rest in all respects far removed there from: whose swartnes of the skin with other impediments both hindereth the recourse of the blood: and if they did blush, overshadoweth the colour. The same cause which stirreth blushing in melancholic men, forceth them to avoid assemblies, and public theatres: and this is common to all melancholickes, howsoever they be tempered in their bodies: even the opinion and fancy of some disgrace from others, who are greatly displeased with themselves, and by their erroneous conceit prevent the sentence of others upon themselves, and condemn that unjustly, which ducly weighed, and without passion, hath no desert of blame. Thus much for these actions of blushing, and bashfulness.   

CHAP. XXX. Of the natural actions altered by melancholy.  
HItherto you have had declared the alteration of such actions as lie in our power, & are for the most part arbitrary: it followeth to show unto you the rest which are natural, & are not at our beck, but are performed by a certain instinct of nature will we, nil we. These actions are of appetite, or of nourishment: the actions of appetite are of meat and drink, or of procreation. Touching appetite of meat, melancholy persons have it for the most part exceeding, and far surpassing their digesture. The cause why, it is through an abundance of melancholy, which easily passeth from the spleen, the sink of that humour, to the stomach, whose sowernes provoketh an appetite of nourishment, to delay that sharpness which molesteth the mouth thereof: & that you may with more facility conceive this point, mark what I shall say of the spleen, the stomach, and the passage of that humour thereinto. The spleen lieth under the short ribs on the left side of the stomach backward, and is ordained to purge the blood of melancholic juice, which it draweth unto itself by mean of veins, and being satisfied with some part wherewith it is nourished, the remnant sower of taste, and as a natural sauce, it belcheth as it were into the stomach, whose sharpness causeth a kind of grief and knawing therein, especially about the entrance, which is most sensible, & so provoketh the appetite of nourishment: by whose sweet and familiar juice, the sharpness or sowernes of the other is dulled and tempered, & so the biting eased. Besides this sense which the quality of melancholy offereth to the stomach it (according to the nature of all things of that taste) bindeth and contracteth the stomach: which may also be another cause of the increase of that pain which enforceth to seek after nourishment. Thus than the stomach being subject unto the splenetic humour, as it exceedeth or is more sour, so doth this appetite more increase. Now in persons melancholic, the superfluity of this humour is in great abundance, which thereby the more forceth the appetite: and this I take to be one cause of that greedy hunger, which is more insatiable in melancholic men then in others. To this may be added the desire that nature hath to seek and supply, that thick, gross and dry humour, with new & fresh nourishment, and to temper the foggy spirits of that humour, with more clear, fresh and new: these wants of nature happily are another cause of that greedy appetite of melancholic persons. Their concoction and digestion is not answerable to the appetite: through the coldness of the stomach, both by the melancholic blood, wherewith it is fedder, and more neighbourhood of the spleen, which is a part inclining from mediocrity to coldness in temper: this hindereth the concoction. The digestion or distribution faileth through difficulty of passage, both by thickness and slowness of the melancholy juice, and narrowness of the way, especially if the party be by nature, and not through other occasion melancholic. To this may be added the dullness of attractive power of the parts, caused by coldness and dryness, and the unsavoury juice, in comparison of the pure blood, whereof nature is not pricked so vehemently with the desire. These I take to be reasons of the quick appetite of melancholic persons, and slow digestion, and concoction, which parts of the former division belonging to nourishment, by order should afterward be handled: but because the comparison with the appetite ministered occasion, you shall take them in this place, and not look for them hereafter. Whatsoever other imbecility of natural action about nourishment is depraved by melancholy, the reason may be drawn from that hath been showed of the other. They are not so desirous of drink, although melancholy be a dry humour, both because their coldness stakeneth the thirst and their stomachs be moist by want of digestion, which sendeth up watery vapours into the mouth, besides the ascent of the humour itself, which satisfieth the drought if any be, and preventeth the desire of drink. Their stomach is cold through melancholy, which by the abundance which floweth therein from the spleen is cooled, as also by the vicinetie of the same, which lieth close thereunto. The other appetite is of procreation, wherewith or the most part melancholy persons are more vehemently stirred: the cause where of I take to be double: the one from the affection of love, wherewith they are soon overtaken: the other a windy disposition of their bodies, which procureth that desire. They are alured to love more easily, because they more admire other than themselves, and being cast down with conceit of their own imperfection, extol in their fancy that which hath any small grace of loveliness in another. The other reason I refer you to read at large of in treatises of philosophy, written of the matter in other languages: the gravity and modesty of our tongue not fitting with phrase to deliver such problems. Thus much shall suffice for the appetite depraved by melancholy: other sorts of natural actions besides concoction and distribution, (which have been before sufficiently to the purpose in hand entreated of) are the retention over fast, and assimulation, or turning of the nourishment into our substances imperfect. The first fault riseth chief of the drinessse of the parts, which thereby retain any humidity, the slowness of the humour which maketh no way though nature expel; and if it be an excrement that should pass, the grossness wherewith she hath been acquainted, causeth the offence thereof less to be felt, and so nature becometh more sluttish in cleansing the body of his impurities. Again the sense of such persons is not very quick, neither carrieth the excrement any pricking of provocation, which should put nature in remembrance of avoidance, except immoderate quantity serve that turn, whereof the dryness of melancholic natures is an impediment. The assimilation is faulty by reason of cold; this causeth that morphewe, which oft staineth melancholic bodies, and bespeckleth their skin here and there with black stains of this humour: & then the nourishment in steed of supplying the perpetual flux of our bodies, and answering in like substance, is (by fault of the part of melancholic disposition) depraved, and turned into like juice, wherewith the part is died into that black colour. The colour is black of the nature of of the humour, and disposition of the part which by imbecility is not able to alter it into whiteness, to the similitude of itself. Hitherto I have declared unto you what actions melancholy depraveth; whether voluntary, or natural; of voluntary, whether of sense and motion, or of affection and perturbation; of natural whether action of appetite, or belonging to the working of nourishment: of appetite, whether of victuals, or of lust: touching dressing and preparation of nourishment, whether it be coction, digestion, attraction, retention, assimulation or expulsion: it remaineth to deliver unto you, what works are depraved by this humour, and how it corrupteth the perfection of them.   

CHAP. XXXI. How melancholy altereth natural works of the body, juice and excrement.  
ALL the works which rise of natural actions in our bodies may be reduced to two sorts: the one is natural juice, apt for nourishment & building up the decay of our bodies through the business of this life and the internal fire, which continually craveth fuel of victual: the other is a superfluity which riseth of the mass of meats and drinks, separated from the pure and nutritive, by the trial of our natural heat: as we see the dross and impurity of metals discovered by the fire. This superfluity nature expelleth out of the body, not being of that sincerity and familiar quality, which nourishment is endued with. Both these are altered by this melancholic disposition, whereof my discourse runneth. The nourishing juice (by melancholy) of such nourishmentes as are pure and good receiveth imperfection, and becometh grosser, thicker, and more crude then by the quality of the substance it might be: the rather also, because melancholic appetite is not proportional to their digestion, but exceedeth. These causes procure the nourishing juice thick, gross, and crude, because the heat of melancholic persons is abated by this humour; which heat is the worker of separation, and maketh subtle & liquid that which of nature hath no contrary disposition. This nourishing juice is either primitive, and the first where of the other take beginning and matter; or else derivative and rising from the primitive. The primitive is that which is wrought in the stomach, and is in colour white, liquid, equal, of a cremy substance: in this, as yet, no separation is made of place, but wholesome and unwholesome, excrement and nourishment are mixed together; only there they are as it were dissolved and broken, and by our heat made more familiar unto us, and prepared for other parts more easy handling This is the grosser, for causes before alleged, and yieldeth the excrement voided by stool, the thickest and grossest of all the rest; which being increased in those qualities by the melancholic disposition, molesteth them with costiveness, and hardness of belly. For through the qualities before mentioned it passeth not so easily the guts, which besides the folds they have, lest we should be oftener then were meet forced to the stool, they have plaits overthwart, as is to be seen in the inwards of beasts, which the dry excrement more hardly passeth over. Again, such as are inclined to one excess of humour, are for the most part less prone to another: especially if it hath any contrary quality: so melancholy, exceeding through the cooling of the temper, therewith less plenty of choler is engendered; which choler nature serveth herself of for a natural clyster of the entrails and guts, both to scour them, and with bitterness to stir up more readily the natural excretion. Of this humour then melancholic persons possessing but small portion, and the excrement of itself gross & dry, stayeth longer in the passage, than nature without annoyance may well bear: and this is the cause why melancholic persons are for the most part encumbered with costiveness, especially if they be lean with all, (as hardly are they otherwise) and want that natural basting of fat (which some have more than sufficient) then is this hardness of stool much more increased. The nourishment thus delivered of this excrement, in the liver is turned into blood, & of white by farther process of heat is made red. In passing of this trial it yieldeth two excrements, the one choleric, and the other melancholic, while it remaineth in the liver, and before it be yet passed into the veins; the choleric is in her quantity, except the meats and drinks of themselves do minister greater store of that matter, else their bodies are unapt for generation of that humour; the melancholy is in great abundance, by reason of the inclination of the complexion thereunto, & want of pure refining in the liver; the abundance whereof is such, that it passeth down from the spleen with gross and melancholy juice into the hemorrhoids, and delivereth of pleurisies, frenzies, and madness, (whereto the melancholickes are subject) if their flow be not too sparing. This abundance, and thickness causeth their spleen to swell, which is said therefore to procure laughter, because it draweth, and sucketh the melancholic excrement, and purgeth that humour which hath been before declared to breed so many fearful passions and breedeth stoppings, whereby it defileth the whole supply of the humours. The blood now discharged of the liver, & possessed of the veins, yet leaveth another excrement more liquid & thin than the rest: this nature disburdeneth itself of by the virtue of the reins, whose office is to suck out that thin humour, & to distill it into the bladder, from whence after a while nature remembered thereof, either by quantity, heat, or sharpness delivereth it quite out of the body. This excrement is not plentiful in melancholic persons, but of colour white, by reason of cold, and little stained for want of choler, & thick of substance according to the blood, from whence it is drawn. The blood thus purified, and delivered of so many superfluous excrements, in the end passeth from the great, into the small veins, and from the small into the private poors of every member, and by diverse degrees at the length receiveth the similitude of our nature, by the complexion of every part, and is united in all respects unto our natural substance. In this degree of nature's work, sundry superfluities arise, partly common to all parts, and partly private to certain. The common is sweat, whereof melancholic persons are spare, through dryness, and sweat requiring heat working upon a moisture, which both fail in the melancholicks. For want of sufficient heat they are not much annoyed that way, neither doth the humours of their bodies gross of substance deliver ready matter thereunto. The other universal kind is a kind of insensible esteem, which breatheth continually from our bodies, & appeareth on a man's shirt, though he have not sweat & soiled it. This melancholic men have more foul, than the other estates of body, and deliver more plenty, especially if their bodies be chafed with exercise: for not having free passage otherwise, for causes before mentioned, it settleth about the skin more abundantly, and upon exercise which openeth the poors, & rarisieth the body, maketh plain an outward show. The particular excrements, especially worth noting, are that void from our head, stomach, and chest. From the head, melancholic men have abundance, by reason of the stomachs crudity, whose vapours it congealeth, or gathereth into rheum, and distilleth it into the mouth. From the stomach, it riseth by the grain of the throat, as you see moisture rise from the water pot by a clout in watering of millions & cucumbers. The longs void not much although through want of heat it gathereth of crude excrement in those parts, thicker, with less sense of heat, then moderate. These be the accidents which fall unto melancholic persons, & thus procured: if any have been omitted, either they be such as are of no moment to be known, or the reason of them is easily rendered from that which hath of the rest been shown, neither was my purpose in precise manner to deliver these points unto you, as they are to be taught in a school of Philosophy, but only to give you a taste of them for better understanding of your present state, and discharge of that duty of friendship which your request layeth upon me in this melancholic theme. This far I have proceeded in my discourse philosophically, in laying the whole case of melancholy (so far as my skill in nature extendeth) before you, as the first part of your desire pretended: hereafter as the order of your request prescribeth, you shall have mine opinion of that affection which riseth upon horror, and conscience of sin, with fear & feelingof God's revenging hand against the same; whether it be any part of melancholy or not; whether melancholic persons are subject most thereunto; what advantage Satan taketh in this case by the frailty of the body; with such other doubts, as your letter ministered unto me; & in the end my counsel and comfort, and what direction else my physic help will afford, for restoring you to the former estate of your body, fallen in decay through this humour, and to that tranquillity of mind, and those comforts of God's grace, which before this temptation assailed you, you joyed in, and was able to minister comfort unto others afflicted with like distress; and so commit the success of this my labour to the blessing of God, and refer my loving endeavour to that friendly acceptation, wherewith you are wont to value the slender offices of great good will unto you.   

CHAP. XXXII. Of the affliction of conscience for sin.  
OF all kinds of miseries that befall unto man, none is so miserable as that which riseth of the sense of God's wrath, and revenging hand against the guilty soul of a sinner. Other calamities afflict the body, and one part only of our nature: this the soul, which carrieth the whole into society of the same misery. Such as are of the body, although they approach nigher the quick than poverty, or want of necessaries for maintenance of this life, yet they fail in degree of misery, & come short of that which this forceth upon the soul. The other touch those parts where the soul commandeth; poverty, nakedness, sickness and other of that kind are mitigated with a mind resolute in patience, or endued with wisdom to ease that grieveth by supply of remedy: this sezeth upon the seat of wisdom itself, and chargeth upon all the excellency of understanding, and grindeth into powder all that standeth firm, and melteth like the dew before the Sun whatsoever we reckon of as support of our defects, and subdueth that wherewith all things else are of us subdued: the cause, the guilt, the punishment, the revenge, the ministers of the wrath, all concurring together in more forcible sort (& that against the universal state of our nature, not for a time, but for ever) then in any other kind of calamity whatsoever. Here the cause is not either wound or surfeit, shipwreck or spoil, infamy, or disgrace, but all kind of misery joined together with a troubled spirit, feeling the beginnings, & expecting with desperate fear the eternal consummation of the indignation, & fierce wrath of God's vengeance against the violation of his holy commandments: which although in this life it taketh not away the use of outward benefits, yet doth the internal anguish bereave us of all delight of them, & that pleasant relish they are endued with to our comforts: so that manifold, better were it the use of them were quite taken away, them for us in such sort to enjoy them. Neither is here the guiltiness of breach of human laws (whose punishment extendeth no farther than this present life, which even of itself is full of calamities not much inferior to the pain adjoined unto the transgression of civil laws) but of the Law divine, & the censure executed with the hand of God, whose fierce wrath prosecuteth the punishment eternally as his displeasure is like to himself, and followeth us into our graves, & receiveth no satisfaction with any punishment, either in regard of continuance or of extremity. Such is the crime, and such is the guiltiness which infer the reward fitting and fully answering the desert: which being a seaparation from God's favour the creator and blesser of all things, the fountain of all peace and comfort, what creature the work of his hands dare cheer us with any consolation? or what assurance may we have of escape if we would flee? the punishment as it hath no misery to compare with, and the sense thereof not to be described to the capacity of any, but of such as have felt the anguish, as yourself at this present, is rather to be showed by negation of all happiness, then by direct affirmation of torment. For as the happiness rising of God's favour, besides the enjoying of all bodily and earthly blessings, so far forth as is expedient for us, and tending to his glory, is above all conceit of man's heart, and report of tongue: so the contrary estate exceedeth all understanding of the mind, and utterance of speech, and is such as it is above measure unhappy and most miserable, inflicted by God's revenge, who is himself a consuming fire, and whose wrath once kindled, burneth to the bottom of hell. In other miseries of execution, the minister may upon compassion and entreaty mitigate the rigour: here Satan moved with the old ranchor, and an enemy unreconcilable hath the charge, who is so far of from pitying our estate, that to the increase of torment, where the Lord chasteneth with mercy, and limiteth sometimes this tormentor in compass of our possessions and goods, he urgeth skin for skin, stretch out thy hand, touch his bones and his flesh: and if express charge were not to the contrary would not satisfy himself therewith, except life, yea not only temporal, but that everlasting, whereof we have assured promises of God, went also for payment. But what do I describe this unto you, whose present experience exceedeth my discourse? Although it be necessary to be laid open, for more clear distinguishing thereof from the melancholy passions above mentioned, and the quality of this misery thus being known, such as by Gods mercy are yet free, may acknowledge his grace therein, pray for the continuance of that freedom, and pity the estate of such as groan under the burden of that heavy cross, wherein no reason is able to minister consolation, nor the burden whereof the Angels themselves have ability to sustain. Leaving the description of this affliction I will fall to the deliberation, whether this kind be of melancholy or not, and so proceed to the doubts, which the comparison of them both together may minister unto us.   

CHAP. XXXIII. Whether the conscience of sin and the affliction thereof be melancholy or not.  
BY that hath been before declared it may easily appear the affliction of soul through conscience of sin is quite another thing then melancholy: but yet to the end it may lie most clear, I will lay them together, so shall their distinct natures thus compared be wray the error of some, and the profanes of othersome, who either account the cause natural, melancholy, or madness, or else having some farther insight, with a Stoical profanes of Atheism, scoff at that kind of affliction, against which they themselves labour to shut up their hard hearts, & with obstinacy of stomach to bear out that whereof they tremble with horror, and not having other refuge, pass over the sense with a desperate resolution: which would awake, and doth not fail at times, to touch the quick of the securest, & most flinty hearted gallants of the world. Therefore to the end, the one may be reform in their judgement, and the other may thereby take occasion to reform their manners, let them consider that this is a sorrow and fear upon cause, & that the greatest cause that worketh misery unto man: the other contrarily a mere fancy & hath no ground of true and just object, but is only raised upon disorder of humour in the fancy, and rashly delivered to the heart, which upon natural credulity fareth in passion, as if that were in deed whereof the fancy giveth a false larume. In this the body standeth oft times in firm state of health, perfect in complexion, and perfect in shape, & all symmetry of his parts, the humours in quantity and quality not exceeding nor wanting their natural proportion. In the other, the complexion is depraved, obstructions hinder the free course of spirits & humours, the blood is over gross, thick, & impure, & nature so disordered, that diverse melancholic persons have judged themselves some earthy pitchers, othersome cocks, other some to have wanted their heads etc., as if they had been transported by the evil quality of the humour into strange natures: here the senses are oft times perfect both outward & inward, the imagination sound, the heart well compact & resolute, & this excepted, want no courage. In the other, the inward sense and outward to feebled, the fancy overtaken with ghastly sums of melancholy, and the whole force of the spirit closed up in the dungeon of melancholy darkness, imagineth all dark, black and full of fear, their hearts are either overtender and rare, & so easily admit the passion, or over close of nature serve more easily to imprison, the cheerful spirits the causes of comfort to the rest of the body: whereby they are not in one respect only faint hearted, and full of discourage: but every small occasion, yea though none be, they are driven with tide of that humour to fear, even in the midst of security. Here it first proceedeth from the minds apprehension: there from the humour, which deluding the organical actions, abuseth the mind, and draweth it into erroneous judgement, through false testimony of the outward report. Here no medicine, no purgation, no cordial, no treacle or balm are able to assure the afflicted soul and trembling heart, now painting under the terrors of God: there in melancholy the vain opened, sneezing powder or bearefoote ministered, cordials of pearl, sapphires, and rubies, with such like, recomfort the heart thrown down, & appalled with fantastical fear. In this affliction, the peril is not of body, and corporal actions, or decay of servile, and temporal uses, but of the whole nature soul and body cut of from the life of God, and from the sweet influence of his favour, the fountain of all happiness and eternal felicity. Finally if they be diligently compared in cause, in effect, in quality, in whatsoever respect these unreverent and profane persons list to match them, they shall appear of diverse nature, never to be be coupled in one fellowship, as more particularly shallbe showed hereafter. The cause here is the severity of God's judgement, summoning the guilty conscience: the subject is the sinful soul apprehending the terror thereof, which is not momentary or for a season, but for ever and ever: the issue of this affliction is eternal punishment, satisfactory to the justice of the eternal God, which is endless, and whose severity admitteth no mediation, neither that extended to one joint, sinew or vain, but to all, neither that of the body only, but of the soul, whose nature, as it is impatible of all other things, and of all other things in greatest peace, assurance and tranquillity, so once shaken by the terrors of God's wrath, and blasted with that whirlwind of his displeasure, falleth and with it driveth the whole frame of our nature into extreme misery and utter confusion: so far they are abused who judge these cases as natural, and such is the calamity of those whom the profane ones of this world propound unto themselves as matter of scoff and derision, labouring by all means to benumb the sense of that sting, which sin ever carrieth in the tail, what pretence so ever it showeth of right, profit or pleasure, in face of outward appearance, to delude the fool & simple in his ways, skilful to do evil, sottish in the paths of righteousness, and utterly ignorant of her rule, and wherein nature giveth some spark of light, more distinctly to discern, even there with corruption of affection, like to stubborn & unbroken horse, shaketh of reason, despiseth her manage, and layeth the noble rider in the dust. In respect of you my dear M. I know this discourse were superfluous, who standeth in need of salve to the sore, and beareth not the least touch of this gale, but because my purpose in this labour is not only to inform and to comfort you, but also for the instruction of others, bear with this, and pass it over, as not belonging unto you, but to the fool: of whom Solomon speaketh, that followeth wickedness like an Ox that goeth to the slaughter, and as a fool to the stocks for correction, and as a bird hasteth to the snare, not knowing that he is in danger. Touching your particular estate, that you may judge thereof more sincerely, you are to esteem of it, as mixed of the melancholic humour and that terror of God: which as it is upon the wicked an entrance into their eternal destruction, so unto you, it is, (as I shall hereafter at large make proof) a fatherly frowning only for a time, to correct that which in you is to be reform, and an admonition of farther circumspection in your ways and course of life hereafter. For the first point you may remember your swollen spleen, with windnes and hardness under the left ribs, the hemorrhoids not flowing according to their usual manner, the blackness and grossness of that blood which hath been taken from you upon occasion, your dreams ordinarily fearful, your solitariness and exceeding sadness, with almost all kind of accidents which accompany melancholy. For the other part whereof most you complain, the manner leadeth me to judge thereof otherwise then natural, both because such is indeed the fear & terror of God sent upon man, and no effect of any creature or cause beside: as also because the object or moving cause is, in reason and clear understanding, void of all abuse of fancy, such as of necessity enforceth these lamentable effects which your soul feeleth & desireth the release of, upon you the cross falleth more heavily, in so much as you are under the disadvantage of the melancholic complexion: whose opportunity Satan embraceth to urge all terror against you to the fall. But remember that he who hath redeemed us, passed under these fears & hath sanctified them to his redeemed, and according to his example, who was heard in that which he feared, when in the days of his flesh he did offer up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death: so follow him in hope and patience, who hath obtained the victory not for himself only, but for all such as in like temptation depend upon him. To the end my labour may give you a more perfect direction in this heavy case, what is natural, and what is according to the good pleasure of God in the other distress above nature, I will make particular distinction of both in the Chapter following, to your clearer understanding.   

CHAP. XXXIIII. The particular difference betwixt melancholy, & the distressed conscience in the same person.  
Whatsoever molestation riseth directly as a proper object of the mind, that in that respect is not melancholic, but hath a farther ground than fancy, and riseth from conscience, condemning the guilty soul of those engraven laws of nature, which no man is void of, be he never so laborious. This is it, that hath caused the profane poets to have feigned Hecate's Eumenides, and the infernal furies; which although they be but feigned persons, yet the matter which is showed under their mask, is serious, true, and of woeful experience. This taketh nothing of the body, nor intermeddleth with humour, but giveth a direct wound with those fiery darts, which men so afflicted make their moan of. Of this kind Saul was possessed, to whom the Lord sent an evil spirit to increase the torment; and judas the traitor, who took the revenge of betraying the innocent upon himself with his own hands; such was the anguish that Esau felt when he found no repentance, after he had sold his birthright for a mess of pottage; and such is the estate of all defiled consciences with heinous crimes; whose hearts are never free from that worm, but with deadly bite thereof are driven to despair. These terrible objects which properly appertain unto the mind, are such as only affect it with horror of God's justice for breach of those laws natural, or written in his word, which by duty of creation, we are holden to obey. For the mind as it is impatible of any thing but of God only that made it, so standeth it in awe of none but of him, neither admitteth it any other violence then from him, into whose hands it is most terrible and fearful to fall. This causeth such distress unto those that feel the torment hereof, that they would redeem it gladly, if it were possible with any other kind, yea mith suffering all other kind of misery. This hath befallen unto the wisest among men while the integrity of their understanding hath stood sound; it taketh of a sudden like lightning, and giveth no warning. Here the puririe of the blood, and the sincerity and liveliness of the spirits avail nothing to mitigate the pain, but only the expiatory sacrifice of the unspotted lamb. On the contrary part, when any conceit troubleth you that hath no sufficient ground of reason, but riseth only upon the frame of your brain, which is subject (as hath been before showed) unto the humour, that is right melancholic, & so to be accounted of you. These are false points of reason deceived by the melancholy brain, and disguised scars of the heart, without ability to work the pretenced annoyance: neither do they approach the substance, and the substantial and sovereign actions of the soul, as the other doth. This estate happeneth by degrees, and getteth strength in time, to the encumbrance of all the instrumental actions, and drive the brain into a sottishness, and obscure the clear light of reason. Here the humour purged, and the spirit attenuate and refreshed with remedy convenient, the brain strengthened, and the heart comforted with cordial, are means most excellent ordained of God for this infirmity. And to deliver you in a word the difference, whatsoever is besides conscience of sin in this case, it is melancholy: which conscience terrified, is of such nature, so beset with infinite fears and distrust, that it easily wasteth the pure spirit, congealeth the lively blood, and striketh our nature in such sort, that it soon becometh melancholic, vile and base, and turneth reason into foolishness, and disgraceth the beauty of the countenance, and tranformeth the stoutest Nabucadnezar in the world into a brute beast; so easily is the body subject to alteration of mind, & soon looseth with anguish and destruction thereof, all the support of his excellency. Besides this in you, vain fears, and false conceits of apparitions, imagination of a voice sounding in your ears, frightful dreams, distrust of the consumption, and putrefying of one part or other of your body, & the rest of this crew, are causes of molestation, which are whelps of that melancholic litter, & are bred of the corrupted state of the body alaltered altered in spirit, in blood, in substance and complexion, by the abundance of this settling of the blood, which we call melancholy. This increaseth the terror of the afflicted mind, doubling the fear & discouragement, & shutteth up the means of consolation, which is after another sort to be conveyed to the mind, than the way which the temptation taketh to breed distrust of God's mercy, & pardon. For that hath sin the means, which needeth no conveyance, but is bred with us, & entereth even into our conception: neither is the guiltiness brought unto us by foreign report, but the knowledge riseth from the conscience of the offender: the means (I mean the outward means of consolation and cure) must needs pass by our senses to enter the mind whose instrument being altered by the humour, & their sincerity stained with the obscure and dark spots of melancholy, receive not indifferently the medicine of consolation. So it both mistaketh, that which it apprehendeth, and delivereth it imperfectly to the minds consideration. As their brains are thus evil disposed, so their hearts in no better case, & acquainted with terror, & overtbrown with that fearful passion, hardly set free the cheerful spirits, feebled with the corporal prison of the body, & hardly yield to persuasion of comfort what soever it bringeth of assurance. This causeth the release of the affliction to be long & hard, and not answerable to the swiftness of the procuring cause, having so many ways top ass, & encountering so many lets before it meet with the sore. For as the cause respecteth not time nor place, no circumstance of person, nor condition, seeketh no opportunity of corporal imbecility, but breakeath through all such considerations, & beareth down all resistance: so the comfort requireth them all agreeable, & missing any one, worketh feeble effects, & slow. Here the comforters person, his manner, the time, & place, may hinder the consolation: here the brain & heart, being as it were the gates & entrance unto the soul, as they be affected, aid, or hinder the consolation; so that the conscience distressed falling into a melancholy state of body, thereby receiveth delay of restoring in respect of outward means; though the grace of God, & his mercy, his comfortable spirit, & gracious favour in like swiftness without means may restore the mind thus distressed: which lieth equally open to the kind of cure, even as it lay to the wound. Thus I conclude this point of difference, & mark betwixt melancholy and the souls proper anguish, whose only cause proceedeth from God's vengeance & wrath apprehended of the guilty soul: neither doth melancholy alone, (though it may hinder the outward means of consolation, as it hath been before showed) any thing make men more subject unto this kind of affliction. First because the body worketh nothing upon the soul altogether impatible of any other saving of God alone. 2. The torment is such as riseth from an efficient that requireth no disposition of means; God himself. 3. The comfort is not procured by any corporal instruments, so neither is the discomfort procured or increased that way; moreover the cause, the subject, the proper effects are other then corporal. For although in that case the heart is heavy, delivering a passion answerable to the fearful apprehension, yet the sense of those that are under this cross feel an anguish far beyond all affliction of natural passion coupled with that organical fear and heaviness of heart. The melancholy disposeth to fear, doubt, distrust, & heaviness, but all either without cause, or where there is cause above it enforceth the passion. Here both the most vehement cause urgeth, and always carrieth a passion therewith above the heart's affection, even the entry of those torments, which cannot be conceived at full, as our nature now standeth, nor delivered by report. Here in this passion, the cause is not fear nor passionate grief, but a torment procuring these affections: and even as the punishment of bodily racking is not the passion of the heart, but causeth it only; so the heart fareth under this sore of the mind, which here properly fretteth and straineth the sins of the soul, wherefrom the heart taketh his grievous discouragement, and fainteth under God's justice. Hitherto you have described that which your soul feeleth, not to instruct you, but that other may more truly judge of the case, and the distinction betwixt melancholy & it, may be more apparent.   

CHAP. XXXV. The affliction of mind to what persons it befalleth, and by what means.  
ALthough no man is by nature freed from this affliction, in so much as all men are sinners, and being culpable of the breach of God laws, incur the punishment of condemnation: yet is the melancholic person more than any subject thereunto: not that the humour hath such power, which hath before been declared to stand far a loof of such effect, but by reason the melancholic person is most doubtful, & iclous of his estate, not only of this life, but also of the life to come; this maketh him fall into debate with himself, & to be more than curious; who finding his actions not fitting the natural, or written line of righteousness, & wanting that archpiller of faith & assurance in Christ jesus our hope, partly through fear findeth the horror, and partly (if it please God so far to touch) feeleth the very anguish due unto the sinner, & in that most miserable condition falleth into flat despair. This cometh to pass, when the curious melancholy carrieth the mind into the senses of such mysteries as exceed human capacity, and is desirous to know more than is revealed in the word of truth: or being ignorant of that which is revealed through importunate inquiry, of a sudden falleth into that gulf of God's secret counsels which swalloweth up all conceit of man or angel: and measuring the truth of such depth of mysteries by the shallow modill of his own wit, is caught & devoured of that which his presumptuous curiosity moved him to attempt to apprehend. Of melancholy persons, especially such as are most contemplative, except they be well grounded in the word of God, & remove not one hair therefrom in their speculations, are this ways most overtaken, & receive the punishment of overbold attempt of those holy things, which the Lord hath reserved to his own counsel: while they neglect the declared truth, propounded for rule of life and practice, in written words revealed; not remembering the exhortation of Moses to the children of Israel: the secrets are the Lords but the revealed will, appertaineth to us, & our children. And this in mine opinion is one cause wherefore melancholic persons are more prone to fall into this pit, than such as are in their organical members otherwise affected. Now contemplations are more familiar with melancholic persons then with other, by reason they be not so apt for action, consisting also of a temper still and slow according to the nature of the melancholy humour, which if it be attenuated with heat, delivereth a dry, subtle and piercing spirit, more constant and stable than any other humour, which is a great help to this contemplation. As the melancholic is most subject to the calamity before mentioned, and especially the contemplative, so of them most of all, such whose vocation consisteth in study of hard points of learning, and that philosophical (especially of Nature) have cause in this case to carry a low sail, and sometime to strike, and lay at the anchor of the Scriptures of God, lest by tempest of their presumption, they be carried into that whirl pool, whereout they be in danger (without the especial grace of God's mercy) never to deliver themselves. Such except they be well ballaced with knowledge of the Scriptures, and assurance of God's spirit, are never able to abide the ugliness of their sins, when they shall be once unfolden, and the narrow point of reprobration and election propounded unto their melancholic brains and hearts, and most miserale polluted souls: unacquainted with God's covenant of mercy, and that earnest of his favour, the comfortable spirit of his grace. Of such as have some knowledge in the word, and practise of obedience, the want of the true apprehending of gods revealed will touching election and reprobation, and the right method of learning & conceiving the doctrine, causeth some to stumble, and fall at this stone. For as a sword taken at the wrong end is ready to wound the hand of the taker, & held by the handle is a fit weapon of defence; even so the doctrine of predestination being preposterously conceived, may through fault of the conceiver procure hurt; whereas of itself it is the most strong rock of assurance, in all storms of temptations that can befall unto body or soul. The one part of predestination, is God's immutable will, the cause and rule of all justice, and uttermost of all reason in his works: the other part is the execution of that will, according to mercy or justice, saving or condemning, with all the means thereto belonging: Christ jesus in those of whom the Lord will show mercy, and the just desert of a sinner on whom he is determined to show the justice of his wrath. If this most comfortable doctrine, and the firm ancher of our profession be not in all parts equally apprehended, we may not only miss the benefit thereof through our own fault, but receive wound and dangerous hurt thereby. For if the consideration be bend upon God's will and counsel only, without respect of the means, it is impossible but the frailty of man's nature must needs be distracted into diverse perilous and desperate fears, finding nothing in itself that may answer his justice, and withstand the fearful sentence of condemnation: if it stay in the means of his justice only, and have not eye upon his mercy in his son Christ, then likewise ariseth an assurance of eternal destruction to the conscience defiled, and the guilty soul deformed with iniquity: if the means of his mercy be regarded without farther respect of his eternal decree and immovable justice, then is there also no assurance of his mercy unto miserable man, who melteth like snow and vanisheth like a vapour before his justice, and doubting of the continuance of his favour always hangeth in suspense. All these considerations thus severally falling into the melancholic person, move doubt and care, and either breed a resolute desperateness, or a continual distrust, tossing hither and thither the soul not established by knowledge and faith in Gods eternal counsel, & the most wise, just and merciful means of his execution: which being perfectly known according to the word, and sealed up in the christian heart by the work of God's spirit, is so far of from disquieting the spirit or breeding doubt, that the children of God in all temptations find the immutability mutability of God's counsel, and the testimony of his favour in their consciences by his spirit, to support them in all storms of temptation, and to be the rock against which no violence of Satan, or his ministers, or whatsoever their own infirmity offereth of discouragement can prevail. Besides these, such as read the word of God with passionate humour, fall into this inconvenience: especially if without guide and instruction they carry any presumption of mind and are not modest and wary in their collections, such being melancholic may easily fall into distrust of God's mercy, & perish in despair. So that ignorance and infidelity, are the chief causes of this miserable estate: whereinto many have fallen, especially such as have never been able to be recomforted, which for the most part are they who with neglect of Gods fear and hardness of heart, against their conscience and knowledge, have with desperate purpose gathered strength in the ways of sin, and have cast of all remorse, till the lords vengeance in this sort overtake them, or have fallen into that sin whereof the Apostle speaketh of, that none should pray for, and which our Saviour calleth the sin against the holy Ghost. Other some there be (of which number I know you dear M.) that fearing the Lord with sincerity of heart, have been notwithstanding this way distressed, the weight of their sins exceeding for a time the strength of their faith, whose case I take to be thus far, other than such as I have before mentioned: even as in stormy tempest the ship stirreth at every blast and sourge of the sea to be in danger of wrack, and the young ash bending to every blast of wind, seemeth in peril of breaking & rooting up, when both the ship keepeth her constant course, & the tree yet hath his rooting; so in you, & those of your disposition in this case, the tempest, and storm of this temptation, raised partly by your own weakness, and partly through Satan's tempestuous malice: causeth your faith to bend, and seem feeble, & yielding to this force, while notwithstanding you be built on the rock, & planted with the hand of God in the Eden of his gracious election, & remain a plant for ever in his paradise of eternal felicity. Such (as you yourself) herm offend, that you measure yourselves by your infirmities, which hath so far use in us to breed a watchful care over our own ways, & not to discourage us: & consider that we are as the Lord esteemeth, who is more glorified in showing mercy, than in executing of his wrath: whose word declareth unto us, that he loved us being enemies, and found us when we were lost, and loathed not our pollution, but for himself only offered his mercy: so that we must stand in that reckoning of ourselves which the Lord will have us to do in his mercy: else shall we be wrong judges of the ways of the Almighty. Even as one that hath not had experience of travail by sea, feareth every weaving of the ship, & doubteth of peril, where the nature of the travailer is such without hazard or danger; So you, & such as are in like case afflicted, imagine every puff of this kind of temptation to be nothing else but the gate of destruction, when as notwithstanding it is the very course & way where through God doth lead his dearest children: whose counsels are not to be measured, by our infirmities, nor by that we cast, forecast, or doubt, but as he himself hath pronounced of his own ways, & as many of his children have proved before us. Here the melancholy taketh advantage and Satan prosecuteth a main, with bending your affections to fear, doubt, & distrust, stoppeth that consolation the mercy of god affordeth, & which his children are ready to minister unto you. And these are melancholickes of another sort; who notwithstanding they endeavour to fear God, yet not advised, through this base & vile humour, receive discouragement in themselves more than (through God's mercy) they have need, till such time as the comfort of his spirit by due means, & alteration of their body by convenient remedy of the godly physician raise them up again. These are melancholiks' most disposed, by reason of the evil temper of their bodies to this affliction, not by power of the humour, which resteth in their bodies, & toucheth not the mind, but by reason they are more curious & distrustful than other complexions: which being joined with ignorance, or a preposterous knowledge cast them into these laberinthes of spiritual sorrow, whereout very hardly are they at the length able to dispatch themselves without great mercy of God, and diligent and careful applying of his means. But you may say unto me, can a man by his own power draw on this kind of cross, which you have before declared to be the hand of God? yea verily, if God's only mercy be not his stay, even as our first parents voluntarily gave their necks, and in them all their posterity under the yoke of Satan: and as the vengeance of God's justice always burneth against the wicked, & his sword continually employed, which nothing can quench but the water of his grace flowing from the sides of his Son, and that spiritual complete armour where of S. Paul speaketh of: so should even all of us in this life taste of the heat, & feel the dint of that sword, if his mercy in his Son & for his Saints cause on the earth, he stayed not the jealousy of his wrath: His anger our sins pull on, but his mercy is only for himself. Thus you have heard what manner affliction this of the mind and conscience of sin, not comforted by assurance of pardon is, how it differeth from melancholy, how melancholic persons are most subject thereunto, and by what means this calamity is procured, with the diversity of persons thus afflicted: hereafter you shall understand (which is your chief desire) my counsel and cure, both in that state of mind wherein you stand, and whereof the Lord grant you speedy and comfortable release, and also in what your crazed body surgayned with melancholy and all his uncomfortable accidents doth of natural & physic help of medicine require. But first my dear M. give way to my words of comfort, and for the old friendship's sake, and sweet society we have had in times past, always seasoned with heavenly meditations and spiritual conferences, deny me not that interest which shallbe both comfortable unto you, and joyful to many of your friends, whose prayers are with sobs powered out for your release: especially beware least unadvisedly you dishonour god in this kind of sorrow, who is the God of peace and comfort.   

CHAP. XXX. A consolation unto the afflicted conscience.  
YOu feel (you say) the wrath of God kindled against your soul, and anguish of conscience most intolerable, and can find (notwithstanding continuail prayers and incessant supplication made unto the Lord) no release, & in your own judgement stand reprobate from God's covenant, and void of all hope of his inheritance, expecting the consummation of your misery and fearful sentence of eternal condemnation: I pray you (dear brother) consider God's mercies of old, and the former experience of his favour, and those holy testimonies of election which you have in times past made plentifully show of, and consider whether it be not rather a temptation, then as you imagine, God's anger against you. Of temptations there are diverse sorts, some rising from our own natures, othersome from without us: such as are without our natures, either springe from our malicious enemy Satan, or from such allurements, or terrors which the world tosseth us withal: In these Satan is a worker, besides his own peculiar manner of tempting. His temptations are either by corporal possession, or with more liberty and freedom to the tempted. Of our own nature's springe the temptations which rise of the root of original sin, without any foreign instigation from the world, whatsoever is either a bait of pleasure, or fright of terror, which increase the actual sins springing from the original root, and lay as it were compass, and poureth on water, to that ungracious stock. Now if this your affliction be no other, but some kind of these temptations (which I have no doubt to make manifest and plain unto you) then are you to esteem of your case more comfortably than you do, and to attend with patience the issue, which not only is not infallible to signify determinately of election or reprobation, but in such as are of like conversation unto you, and have given evident testimonies of a sound faith grounded upon knowledge, as you have done, bringeth forth the fruits of patience, experience, hope, increase of faith, and not only in the end yieldeth plenty of spiritual joy, and comfort unto themselves, but furnisheth also with power, and ability to confirm others, both by their own example, and words of great consolation from their own experience. In all the former kinds of temptations, there is hope, and examples are sundry in each kind: of which the corporal inhabiting of Satan is the greatest, fullest of tertour and despair: yet the history of the deeds and sayings of Christ, the writings of the Evangelist do testify of whole legions dispossessed of that habitation, by the power of Christ mercifully extended upon such poor and miserable captives; which examples are written for our instruction against like times of affliction, that we give not over hope, though millions of devils should possess us within, and environ us without; but know his power is above all force of the enemy, and his mercy far surmounting Satan's malice. But before I proceed in this particular, I will make plain demonstration unto you, that you have no cause in this sort to fear, nor have any shadow of ground whereon you should resolve against yourself upon the point of reprobation, but that these molestations and terrors, which you now endure are temptations, rather for your farther good and profit, than grounded resolutions, of such lamentable issue: which having declared unto you in the generality, I will enter into the particular kinds, wherewith I judge you are thus distressed. First I will endeavour to lose the hold your melancholy hath laid upon the assurance (as you take it) of reprobation; which having first performed, your judgement may more easily embrace the other part, which is a trial only for a time, and a mere temptation. Although God's children every one have their salvation founded upon his eternal decree of mercy towards them, published by the preaching of the Gospel, and written, and sealed in the heart of his chosen, by the power of the spirit of adoption, which crieth Abba, father, and testifieth in measure, some more & some less, according to the dispensation of that grace; yet on the contrary part, there is no evident and undoubted sign of reprobation in any, while they live: (because there may be hope of repentance) but only that sin, which Christ calleth the sin against the holy Ghost, and for which the Apostle forbiddeth to pray: this the Divines do expound to be an open & wilful apostasy from God, with malicious hate against the profession of his known truth. Next unto this sin, is impenitency: which can not be known, till death make show thereof, and cut of time of repentance. Of the first of these, examples are very rare, as julianus the Emperor called apostata: of the other, Cain, Esau, Saul, judas, and the profane people of the world that know not Christ, and such as know him only in vain profession outwardly, and so continue, are patterns of the sin, and shall be examples of God's vengeance. But first touching that sin, wherefore no prayer is to be made, (because it witnesseth, and sealeth up reprobation to the offender in this life) I will by comparing your course of life, and your present demeanour with that sin, manifestly lay open your case to be far other then reprobate. Before I enter hereinto, you must beware you make no more sins of that kind, than God himself hath pronounced to be of that sort: for in these matters that concern God's religion, even the perfection of our wisdom is but folly, much more our sick brains, and melancholic understanding, is far to be removed from handling such holy things, whereof none can give rule, but he who knoweth the perfect nature, (as I may so speak) of God, which is known only to himself; so that here you must rest in this case, and strive to see with no sharper eye, than so far as God hath revealed; nor enter other course in search of such matters of his secrecy, than he hath himself manifested: by whose Oracles we are instructed, that only one kind of sin cutteth of all hope of salvation in such as have professed Christ, and that only because it is of such nature, that it closeth up all remorse of repentance: being the height of all iniquity, equal with that of the devils themselves, who are shut out of God's favour for ever. If this than be the only sin which brandeth the wicked soul to eternal condemnation, and you (dear heart) have not in any sort thus offended, (as I have no doubt to make evident proof) why do you unkindly torment your own heart, and throw yourself into that pit of destruction, from which the Lord hath redeemed you? and as though you were your own and not his, a possession of your own purchase to be bestowed as fancy leadeth you, and not God's creation, wrought by his spirit of regeneration, ordained for his service and glory. Now let us enter into the consideration, whether you have sinned against the holy Ghost or not: which if you have in deed done (as peradventure your humour would lead you) where is the renouncing of God's religion, which you have hitherto professed and presently do heartily embrace? Where is that malice, which prosecuteth this mischief? What persecution have you in word or deed raised against the truth? What sword have you ever drawn against it, or what volumes have you written against sound doctrine, with purposed opposition against your own conscience, neither that of frailty, but of mere will and obstinacy? If your humour be not able to allege such testimonies, (as it cannot in deed, these things being matters of judgement and will, and not of fancy, and consisting of evidency to be known of others, and not of imaginacie conceit of a fearful and distrustful heart) give over I pray you these melancholic priudices against yourself, and prepare your heart to receive comfort, which the word of promise ministereth unto you. For that sin except only, all other are within compass of grace, and have no power to shut us from God's favour. Be it that you have sinned against your conscience; yet certain, condemnation and casting of, doth not necessarily ensue thereupon; else should there be not a person on whom God should show mercy. For we all sin in that manner, and the good we would (our conscience bearing witness of our duty, and breach of that we are bound to do) we do not; but the sin which we would not do in respect of regeneration, that we commit through our frailty, which groweth up in strength, by increases of God to perfefection, and hath evermore in it not to discourage us, but to breed circumspection, and to remember us where our perfection and excellency lieth, even without us, in that unspotted lamb Christ jesus. For our wills are corrupted, not only in that they are seduced by corrupt judgement, which is the least part of their want; but when contrary to judgement grounded either upon nature, or the plain word of truth, we make choice of that we know is nought, or prefer the greater evil before the less. Otherwise should our nature obtain in this life a greater perfection, than our first parents had in paradise, whose freedom of will was perverted to that, which was against the known commandment of God: and give any one faculty or practice of the mind be perfect, all must needs be of like pureness; seeing equally they were corrupted, and equally receive restoration. This perfection we are to hope for, and attend the consummation of the rudiments of righteousness, which both in knowledge and use are in part blind and impotent, and in heaven are to receive the absolute perfection and beauty, fully agreeable to God's good will and uprightness of his justice. If then you have neither sinned against the holy Ghost, which is plain through manifold testimonies of unfeigned faith, even at this time being full of sighs and groans for your offences, careful to eschew what soever is repugnant to Gods will, releevinge with tender affection of Christian love the necessities of others; neither in the whole course of your life, having been of notorious mark of iniquity, much less a blasphemer of that holy name, and a renouncer, with contumely of the holy profession: assure yourself that your present estate is no other, but a storm of temptation, and no mark of perdition) from which the Lord, (after trial of faith and patience) will deliver you, and send that calm peace and tranquillity, which in times past you have enjoyed, and shall by his grace again recover, to your everlasting comfort. Of temptations some touch our faith, and other some the fruits thereof. Our faith; as whether we believe or not. The fruits: either of profession of the truth, when persecution or fear, or favour of men, slaken our zeal, and smother the outward show of those glorious graces of faith, & of the spirit, or in the fruits of obedience suitable and kindly unto our profession, as those which concern persons, possessions, or name, wherein charity toward men is broken: all these temptations, though both affection do incline unto them, (excepting incredulity, which bringeth forth impenitency, and renunciation of the faith) and will bring them to effect, yet are they not of power to separate us from the love of God in Christ, whose sacrifice is all sufficient, and propitiatory for all kinds of sin, (that only before mentioned excepted.) You say you believe not, and therefore draw upon you the pain due to the unfaithful: here beware dear brother, and weigh with circumspectipn, and due consideration of your state in so weighty a point as this is, and although you have not at this time the sense thereof in your imagination, which is now disguised and blemished with melancholy conceits, and corporal alteration of the instrument of the body, yet do you believe, and shall hereafter feel the sweet comfort thereof, as you now abundantly declare the fruits of so holy a root; patience, meekness, charity, prayer, newness of life, and what soever good virtue springeth in the children of God therefrom. For even as in outward senses we do see sometimes and feel, and hear; when we do not perceive it, so we may also have faith, and not always have the sensible perceiving thereof; especially our bodies (as yours presently is) being oppressed with melancholy, which always urgeth terror and distrust: and deludeth us with opinion of want of that, whereof we have no lack: even as in another extremity, other men are oft carried with an opinion and confidence of those things whereof they have no part. And if it be so with melancholickes, (as it is credibly recorded in history) that some have complained they have been headless, so that (as Aëtius reporteth) Phylotimus the Physician was feign to put a cap of lead, upon a melancholickes head, that he might by feeling the weight conceive otherwise; and Artemidorus the Grammarian did imagine he wanted both a hand and a leg, though he wanted neither, you are to lay aside this fancy, and to weigh the presence of the cause by the effects which are most evident tokens of faith in you, and not to rest upon your deluded conceits, which if you yield unto, will persuade you in the end, that you want both head and heart also, after it hath dispossessed you in part of the right use of both: but you will say unto me, do not men otherwise doubt of this point but upon melancholy? Yes verily: and especially such as most hunger and thirst after righteousness, and are poor in spirit, and broken in heart: the rest of the world, (except some vengeance of God lay hold upon them, or some horrible fact gnaw their wounded conscience,) passing their time in a blind security, careless of God, and empty of all sense and hope of a better life, or fear of that eternal destruction; pass their days, and finish their course, as the calf passeth to the shambles not knowing their end to be slaughter by the butcher's knife. Such I say as are most careful to walk before their God in righteousness, as they doubt and fear in every action, lest God be dishonoured by their conversation, so are they jealous of their precious faith, lest it be not in such measure as they desire, or in truth be none at all: wherein they may easily be deceived; first in the discerning, then in the measure and portion. Touching the discerning thus may they be overtaken: when the inward feeling thereof doth not answer their desire, and the actions proceeding therefrom do not satisfy their thirst of righteousness, whereby relief may rise to the nourishment of faith, & the satisfying of that holy appetite; they are discouraged, and entangled with spiritual cares, from which a more advised consideration agreeable to God's word might easily deliver them. Touching the portion, their fault lieth in this, that they measure the excellency thereof and the power, partly by measure, and quantity, and not by virtue, wherewith through God's merciful grace it is endued to the salvation of all those that have it but in measure of a grain of mustard seed: which both errors are to be corrected, by pondering of the case, not by that we judge, but by that God himself hath given rule of: both touching the sense of faith, the sincerity of the fruits, and increase of measure: all being his gifts and graces dispensed unto us, according to his mercy and wisdom, as is most for his glory, and expedient for us. For if we duly weigh from whence we are fallen, and how deep into this degenerate nature wherein we are captives of Satan, and slaves of all iniquity, we shall receive comfort of the least spark of faith, and may praise God, and receive comfort in the smallest work of obedience performed in sincerity, though not in perfection: and if we find the increases slow, and the victory hard in this our warfare: let us consider with whom we fight, and for what crown: and how both heaven and earth was moved at our redemptiion: and the same power concurred thereto, as in our first creation. And as the great and mighty oaks are slower in attaining their full growth, than shrubs and weeds, whose enduring is for many ages, when the other in short time whither and fadde away, so esteem your increase of heavenly graces slow, but sure, everlasting as immortality, that you may be as a beam or a pillar in the temple of God for ever and ever. Neither are we to account the nature of any thing according to our sense or to the show it maketh. For than should the most fruitful tree in winter be taken for barren, and the lusty soil dry, and unfruitful while it is shut up with the hard frost: but rea son (as in other deliberations) so in this must lead us (being guided by the word of God) rightly to judge of the presence, & life of faith in our souls: which being the shield in this our spiritual warfaire, endureth much battering & many brunts and receiveth the forefront of the encounter, & oft times fareth as if it were pierced through and worn, unfit for battle: yet is it in deed of nature invincible, and repelleth whatsoever engine the enemy enforceth against us, and standeth firm rooted: whatsoever storm Satan raiseth for the displacing thereof. How then are we to behave ourselves in this temptation: when both the sense of faith is dulled in us, and the fruits minister discontentment? you remember the saying of the Apostle, the graces and mercy of God is without repentance, and Christ jesus whom he loveth, to the end he loveth them: if then you have in times past felt that gift of the spirit, (which you have done) & have joyed therein: be assured it is a mark never to be defaced, of your election & firm standing in God's favour. For what moved the Lord to bestow the grace: but his own mercy: & that he bestoweth: who can take away if he himself take it from us, for some desert of ours, did not he foresee the same long before? & so why did he not withhold his mercy? but as he knew us when we were strangers from him, and loved us, when we hated him, and had nothing which might provoke his mercy, but our misery: so is his goodness continued upon us still for his own sake, and not at all for our deserving: that all being subject to his condemnation, he might be glorified in the salvation of some, for that righteousness sake which is in his son, and that oblation of his offered up, not for himself but for others: from whose righteousness so much is detracted as we attribute unto ourselves, or seek to attain unto, in respect of satisfying God's justice: and so much impaired of God's mercy, as we shall rest upon any virtue or power in ourselves, whereby to avoid his vengeance of justice: Our election as it first riseth from God, and is established in his immutable counsel and decree, and lieth in no power else befide: so the hazard thereof is not committed to the adventure of our frailty, but the continuance and stableness in the same decree hath the foundation. For alas the woeful experience of Adam's frailty in his best estate giveth sufficient testimony, and more than sufficient: what hope there is of continuance of grace, if the assurance of our salvation should depend upon our keep: who without support of God are like the wind inconstant and as frail as the tender herbs, and want all habil tie of withstanding the affaults of our enemy: and constant perseverance in any religious virtue, and work of piety. Then if the foundation of our election lie in the counsel of God, and be founded upon his decree: who hath revealed the one but the Spirit of the Lord, and what is able to undermine the other where the Lord himself hath laid the corner stone? This assurance in time past the Spirit of God hath confirmed unto you, & you have felt it with plenty of heavenly joy, and comfort: and if in the conflict of temptation you esteem the strength according to that remaineth after the battle, or that which you feel being somewhat tired in the conflict: you may here give vantage to the enemy through discouragement, and lose the field as much as lieth in you, where there is hope of assured victory. For, be it that you feel the ability weak, and the enemy strong, and your own corruption upon the point to prevail, yet consider there is a root of this virtue, whose fruit, and branches although these stormy tempests may nip and shake, yet the sap shall never be dried up in the root, neither can any evil wind of Satan so blast, that the immortal seed be at any time quit withered, yea though all his fiery darts be thereto with all might and main employed, but that the storm being blown over by the spirit of grace, and the comfortable sun of consolation shining upon our gloumie hearts, it will bud forth again into blossom, fruit, and branch, as a most beautiful tree in the paradise of God. Let the comparison of bodily sickness, and the consideration of that kind of frailty, give comfort unto you in your case although in an other kind, yet in this respect not unlike. We have experience how diverse times the disease prevaileth over the sick persons, that actions fail and faculties seem quite to be spent, neither hand nor foot is able to do their duty, the eye is dim, the hearing dull, the taste altered, and the tongue distasteth all things eve of most pleasant relish, and the weak and feeble patient seemeth to attend the time of dissolution: when yet notwithstanding there remaineth a secret power of nature, and a forcible spark of life that overcometh all these infirmities, and consumeth them like dross, & rendereth to the body a greater purity, & firmness of health then before the sickness it did enjoy. Even so esteem of the spiritual case, and consider that your soul is sick and not dead, and faith is assailed but not overcome, & only have patience to attend the finishing of this secret work which passeth all conceit, and capacity of man, and you shall see these burning fevers, of temptations to be slaked and cooled by the mercy and grace of Christ, and that spark of faith which lieth now hid, and overwhelmed with heaps of temptation, and seemeth to be utterly quenched to break forth again, and to consume these strange causes of the disease of the soul, and as nature after a perfect crise dischargeth herself either by stool, vomit, sweat, or bleeding, or such like evacuations, to the recovery of former health, so shall you feel all these doubts, and fears, and terrors removed, and strength of faith restored with such supply, as it shall be able to make evident proof what secret virtue lay hid and yet not idle in all this uncomfortable plight which offereth you temptation of despair. Seeing then that you are yet but under the conflict: and not overcome, have good cheer in the succession which as in Christ it is victorious, over head; so are we (his parts & members,) to look for the same crown of glory, who both overcome in him, & through him, in ourselves shall in the end be possessed of the victory, and receiveth crown of immortality. As for that which your own conceit corrupted by melancholy persuadeth you, & wherein Satan is busy, and omitteth no opportunity: give no credit thereunto, but as it is, so esteem it a delusion which time will discover and lay open, as you yourself shall hereafter most planly discern. I grant you, the temptation itself though your body were free from this infirmity, is of the greatest kind, & such as doth not skirmish only lightly upon our souls, but setteth the main battle against our most happy estate, in so much as it forced our Saviour to cry, my God my God, why hast thou forsaken me. But what then? are we therefore to be discouraged? no, no, here appeareth rather the abundance of God's grace, and the mighty support of his power, which even in the midst of hell preserveth his and suffereth not so much as their garments to take any smell of the flame, but even from thence is able to raise them to his celestial kingdom & place, them which his son in the throne of glory. And if you duly consider the price of our redemption how prerious it was, & how it could not be obtained, without shedding of the most precious heartblood of the son of God, you must think the quarrel to be no other to the end, but a matter of blood, of strife, of sweat, of fear, of jealousy, and whatsoever affection goeth with affecting a glorious triumph in all the members of Christ, both inwardly and outwardly, in the spirit and in the body, as our head himself could find in dispensation though he sued unto his father therefrom with abundance of tears: and think that it is God's business we are in hand with, and that we are enabled of him, and account not these small venies of Satan for deadly wounds which are no thing other but practices, and exercises of the spiritual courage, and circumspection, and introductions to that use of the whole armour of God, where against no force of the enemy shall prevail, though the attempt seem to be full of peril, & terror. But you say you feel small strength of faith, & no support of that hope which maketh not ashamed. Beware lest you judge unjustly of the ways of God, & esteem that for small which is great, and vile which in the sight of God is most precious. For herein the enemy may take encouragement to your great disadvantage. You feel not that taste thereof you sometimes felt: and do you judge therefore you are bereaved utterly thereof? what? consider the soul is now sick, & distestaeth much wholesome meat of consolation, and loatheth many pleasant and fragrant cups of comfort, and counsel, and yet the endeavours of God's children in this behalf, and the sweet waters of heavenvly comfort are not therefore of themselves bitter or unsavoury, so you are not to measure the absence of this grace by that you presently, but by that in times past (while the soul stood free from this disease of temptation, & trial) you have felt of comfort in the spirit through an acceptable measure of faith according to the dispensation of God's grace, and not according to our fancy, but as he shall think meet to be ministered unto us. Neither is the trial of faith only to be taken according as the soul feeleth it in itself but also and sometimes (as in such temptations as these wherein you now travail) only by the course and trade of life which hath passed before, and those fruits which are evident to the eye of others who can judge more sincerely than the afflicted whose understandings are somewhat altered through Satan's terrors. But again you say the course of life past, and your estate present hath nothing answered the holiness of your vocation, and that sincerity the Lord requireth so that here also the comfort faileth you. What then? are you therefore reprobate? No, but it argueth want of faith, not so, but place for farther increase of faith and the fruits thereof. Those whom the Lord hath chosen to be his worshippers, and hath redeemed, and consecrated holy to himself, and prepared good works for them to walk in: they be his plants and engraffed olive branches in his son which take not their full perfection at once, but accorglorie. And if you duly consider the price of our redemption how precious it was, & how it could not be obtained, without shedding of the most precious heart blood of the Son of God: you must think the quarrel to be no other to the end, but a matter of blood, of strife, of sweat, of fear, of jealousy, and whatsoever affection goeth with affecting a glorious triumph in all the members of Christ: both inwardly, and outwardly, in the spirit and in the body: as our head himself could find no dispensation, though he sued unto his Father therefore with abundance of tears: and think that it is God's business we are in hand with, & that we are enabled of him, moved and carried by his spirit, increase with his increases, not to be measured with the eye of flesh, or carnal understanding, but by the same spirit which worketh in us: who as he hath begun, will also make perfect his work to his own glory: which lieth in taking pity and compassion, more abundantly then in showing vengeance. By this which hitherto hath been said, it appeareth plainly that no sin hath yet passed you, which can seclude you from hope of salvation; and therefore necessarily it followeth that the cross you are now under is an attempt of Satan against you, to cast you into utter despair and if it were possible to undo that knot more surely knit then that of Gordius, which coupleth us unto our God, and wherewith we are espoused unto jesus Christ: even our most glorious faith which overcometh the world: & where against not Satan, nor all his force, or stratagem is able to prevail. I say it is only a temptation of the enemy purposed of him to your confusion: but from your loving God, and merciful father, a trial of faith and patience, and the proof of those virtues which before lay hid in secret: which he will have now show themselves in the combat, he himself a beholder, an encourager, a succour at need, and priest with the crown of triumph to give reward, and honour to the victory. Wherefore, only have patience: be not discouraged: stand sure, and the feebleness of Satan shall soon appear: and his weapons shall be all broken in pieces, and God (through faith and patience, and comfort of the Scriptures by his spirit) shall be glorified in the weakness of his poor afflicted servant: and you shall again (as David was) be restored to those wont joys which you have sometimes felt in the sweet mercies of the Lord. Now the ground of all temptation is our own weakness, this is tried and proved by Satan or the world, or both joined together as considerations of our destruction. Besides this continual buds of iniquity which do rise from our original corruption, Satan sometimes playeth his part upon our weakness alone, and sometimes by outward temptations, and sometimes layeth siege round about us, and besetteth all the parts of our complete armour. We are weak in understanding and in what so ever action riseth therefrom: even in will & affection: Our understanding is turned into blindness of error; Our will embraceth not only those things which corrupt judgement directeth unto, but even where sometime understanding standeth sound, there will bendeth to affection, & neglecteth the light of reason. Our affections are both rebellious to right judgement and will: in that they rage where they should not, and where just cause is given there they inordinately exceed. Thus judgement, will, and affection, having degenerated, use the bodily members as weapons and instruments of all impiety, and in justice: so that if the grace of God did not for preservation of humane society, and especially for his Church's cause restrain this strength of iniquity, the pillars of the world would shatter in sunder, and the vault of heaven would fall, & all things would turn again to their former Chaos, & be consumed with the terrible fire of God's vengeance, and perish in his heavy displeasure. Our misery being such, no marvel though both Satan and the world prevail against us, except the Lord stretch forth his hand, and uphold us. This our infirmity Satan doth sometimes assay without means: and sometimes by outward occasions of evil, & forcible persuasion of sin, and rebellion against God. How he doth it without means, the experience is more lamentable and infallible, than the manner how easy to find out. In corporal possession it seemeth there needeth no means: when Satan possesseth all parts of the house, and as master commandeth at his pleasure. But how without such access he is able to tempt, that is a matter of more difficult consideration: which, because it maketh not a little to the better laying open of your estate, I will somewhat stand upon: referring you for the rest to the resolutions of the divines who have chief part in this business. For my own part I do take it, & am assured you find the experience, that Satan after a personal manner unto the soul, though not in bodily shape to the eye, without means of outward things which (might move our wills or affections) tempteth us in the very secret thoughts of our hearts. For being a spirit, and by creation most excellent, it is not to be doubted but that he hath a spiritual access unto our spirits, to trouble them, and to disorder all their actions, as we see corporal creatures, with bodily and corporal force, to annoy one an other. And as men have fellowship one with other by corporal presence, and are delighted or displeased with the qualities of the mind according as they like, or dislike, uttered by speech & talk: so is it most like that the spirits have their society maintained by a spiritual conference, whereby their wills and purposes are entercommunicated one to an other, without corporal sound, whereof both the spirits want the instrument, and the voice nothing affecteth the mind. Daily experience maketh this manifest in such as are possessed, how Satan so beareth the sway in them that their speech and phrase altereth, and their discourse is far other then before, & their whole nature at Satan's beck, and their utterance of mind as he only suggesteth. In others whom Satan hath not laid such hold on, the same no less is to be seen: as when the false prophets did deceive Ahab: there came forth a spirit which was sent to be a false & lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets, which accordingly did make promise unto him of victory, who notwithstanding found a contrary event of overthrow, & destruction. So entered Satan into judas the traitor, & moved him to betray our Saviour, not by a corporal possession: but by a spiritual impulsion whereby he worketh in the children of disobedience, and Peter in the fift of the Acts sayeth to Ananias: why hath Satan filled thine heart, &c: and again in the second to the Ephesians the Apostle calleth the Devil the prince that ruleth in the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience: by which it is plain that the devil hath power where God permitteth him over the minds and judgements, and wills of the reprobate, and wicked: and may also in such sort tempt the faithful servants of God. For the Apostle saith in the same place, that the Ephesians (to whom he wrote) in times past walked according to the course of this world, & after the conduct of that spirit. Neither do we stand thus subject unto Satan's annoyance through the subtleness of his nature, being a spirit; but through that long experience and practise of our misery from age to age, whereby he is able with ease to work our annoyance in all respects. This giveth him knowledge of our minds more perfectly: who apprehendeth the same by the least show, and inclination of our affection & wil Not that he knoweth our hearts, entirely and perfectly: which is proper to God only the framer of the heart, but only through that trial and experience which not one only particular man hath ministered unto him, but even our whole race from Adam to this present: this maketh him not to expect any outward signification of speech, or gesture, to conceive our intents and purposes: but out of our universal corruption whereof he hath continual proof, he hath laid up matter of argument to discover the vanity of our minds, and the secret thoughts of our heart: which after he hath found, he suggesteth (as he seethe occasion whereto we must incline) instigation of sin & disobedience against God, & his holy commandments. His temptations are properly such, as neither our natures seem to incline unto, but in a generality to all kind of wickedness; nor the world doth either allure us, or enforce us: especially the children of god who are partakers of his spirit find them most strange, and such as they abhor the very lest conceit of them, & find no part of their nature to incline unto them, howsoever in other respects they complain of frailty. Of this kind are certain blasphemies suggested of the Devil, and laying of violent hands of themselves, or upon others neither moved there to by hate or malice: or any occasion of revenge: of the same sort is the despair and distrust of god's mercy, and grace, besides many other as taking away the seed of the word out of the heart of the negligent hearers: the suggesting of errors & such like without our natures special inclination that way, but rather contrarily affected. And as he is a spirit, & an effectual worker in other means: so when he apply his proper travail he attempteth the most dangerous assaults, to our salvation: and entereth so deep that (knowing the judgement is the fountain of all virtuous action) there he maketh train, and after a spiritual manner seeketh possession thereof to the utter descouraging of all your actions that depend thereon: knowing that it once being at his devotion, the corporal gross actions & bodily vices, need no great provocation. Other temptations rise of our own rebellious hearts unto the holy commandements of God: or from the worldly allurements, which as baits entice us from the way of obedience: or else from terrors of life which scar us with threat of peril, if we embrace the way of piety, and of holiness: and setteth before us a greater awe of men, than we have of fear, & reverence of God. Now among these temptations falleth your present estate, & especially Satan employeth his force to your judgement, and not against the strength of carnal judgement only, but against that which the Spirit of God hath taught and sealed unto you in your conscience: both suggesting unto you those blasphemous conceits which your heart utterly abhorreth the least thought and remembrance of, and raiseth that doubt of God's favour which now diversly distracteth you. Remember I pray you, how the spirit of God calleth him the tempter, the deceiver of the world: and the accuser of the faithful: the Dragon and old serpent, a liar, and the father of lies: by which epithets, and descriptions, you may consider his power, his malice, and his craft to deceive, and to abuse you: never before acquainted with his practices as at this present you have experience of: and not take all that your mind conceiveth of any manner of impiety whatsoever, to be from you, but from Satan: who as he hath power to tempt and to try, to cast before you these stumbling blocks whereat he would have you fall: so hath he no power to fasten them upon your mind, and to give them setteling: your own conscience bearing you witness how much repugnant they are to your desires. The rather are you to account than as from him, because they be such, as are altogether contrary to your former conversation, & whereto you have felt your nature incline before, and such as have no enforcement nor enticement from any creature, but from him. Wherefore though such kind of thoughts do assail the heart, that (being guilty of so great sin) your conscience might be so much the more defiled, and the discouragement the greater; yet answer them again by the word of God which is the sword of the spirit: and wait the happy end of the conflict with patience: and account not these small venies of Satan for deadly wounds, which are nothing else but practices, & exercises of your spiritual courage, & circumspection: & introductions to that use of the whole armour of God, where against no force of the enemy shall prevail, though the attempt seem to be full of peril, and terror. But you say you feel small strength of faith, and no support of that hope which maketh not ashamed. Beware lest you judge unjustly of the ways of God, and esteem that for small which is great, and vile, which in the sight of God is most precious. For herein the enemy may take encouragement, to your great disadvantage. You feel not that taste thereof you sometimes felt: and do you judge therefore you are bereaved utterly thereof? what? consider the soul is now sick, and distasteth much wholesome meat of consolation, and loatheth many pleasant and fragrant cups of comfort, and counsel, and yet the endeavours of God's children in this behalf, and the sweet waters of heavenvly comfort are not therefore of themselves bitter or unsavoury, so you are not to measure the absence of this grace by that you presently, but by that in times past (while the soul stood free from this disease of temptation, & trial) you have felt of comfort in the spirit through an acceptable measure of faith according to the dispensation of God's grace, and not according to our fancy, but as he shall think meet to be ministered unto us. Neither is the trial of faith only to be taken according as the soul feeleth it in itself but also (and sometimes as in such temptations as these wherein you now travail only) by the course and trade of life which hath passed before, and those fruits which are evident to the eye of others who can judge more sincerely than the afflicted whose understandings are somewhat altered through Satan's terrors. But again you say the course of life past, and your estate present hath nothing answered the holiness of your vocation, and that sincerity the Lord requireth so that here also the comfort faileth you. What then? are you therefore reprobate? No, but it argueth want of faith; Not so; but place for farther increase of faith, and the fruits thereof. Those whom the Lord hath chosen to be his worshippers, and hath redeemed, and consecrated holy to himself, and prepared good works for them to walk in: they be his plants and engraffed olive branches in his son who take not their full perfection at once (but according to the nature of a plant) require daily watering & dressing, whereby by degrees they attain in the end a full stature in Christ. So that you may not account yourself void of grace, because you are not perfect (for in this life both faith, and knowledge, and love are all imperfect, and shall partly be furnished, and partly receive perfection elsewhere,) but you are godly & wisely to consider the secret work of God's spirit, and grace, and take comfort of the smallest crumb and drop of this heavenly sustentation and attend your time of perfect growth, according to the good pleasure of God. You can not at all times feel and follow with your conceir, and natural capacity the worker of this mystery: more than you are able to discern where the wind riseth; and where it lighteth. You know we that are called, are borne again, and as the growth and increase of our bodies is not perceived of us, though we do increase, & the birth is not apprehended of the infant borne & bred, even so is it with us in the heavenly birth, and spiritual regeneration, the spirit worketh without our leave, and acquainteth us not with his marvelous working more than is expedient at his pleasure, when, and in what measure for our comfort: much less can a body overcharged with melancholy, & drowned in that dark dungeon see the comfortable beams of his daystar, & brightness of the cheerful Sun of God abundant mercy, and a mind whose actions are hindered by means thereof, whereby it neither conceiveth nor judgeth sincerely and uprightly as the case requireth: and neither so only affected, but blind folded by the humour, and brought into this darkness of fear, is buffited also and beaten with Satan on all sides, whereby being distracted, it obtaineth no respite, and release, of due and just consideration, how can it discern rightly of these things? Wherefore your case being such, yield not so much to the enemy, as to judge of yourself according to his sentence, who is a liar from the beginning, and the father of lies; but according to those old testimonies which you have felt in your own conscience, and have given comfortable show of to others in the course of your life heretofore. Oh, but you feel not the testimony of God's spirit, which might assure you. Neither do any of God's children at all times feel it. David complained of the want hereof; job complained likewise, & so have diverse of God's children in all times made moan hereof. Sufficient it is if at any time that assurance be given, and if it be the will of God for a time to withdraw it, that you may feeling your own frailty, with more earnest desire call to him for his wont grace: Who are you to interrupt the ways of God, and to prevent his counsels? and for your comfort be assured that the former grace, you have received is of that nature, that it never decayeth, but remaineth an everlasting seed of immortality, proceeding from the Father of eternity, and with whom there is no changeableness, nor shadow of turning: who doth nothing to repent him of, but is only wise, stable, & sure, and hath no need to correct any thing of his own workmanship. And if he with hold the comfort of his spirit from you for a season, it is that you may with greater appetite seek after it, and having found it, more joy therein, and praise his mercy with thankfulness of heart, and readiness of utterance to found out the abundance of his mercy. If the Lord withhold it not, but the frailty wherein you stand, diminish the sense thereof, or the temptation press so far upon you that you are not free to judge aright, or the peril which the temptation carrieth with it move you to distrust, know that nothing befalleth you strange herein more than to other of God's children before you, and that to wade through these violent streams, patience and constancy is most needful, with a resolute mind to abide the Lords will, who in the end will come, and will not tarry. This is the broken & contrite heart which the Lord will not despise, this is the poor spirit, on whom the Lord pronounceth blessedness, and this is the affliction whereof the Spirit of God is called the comforter? so that (although before the Lord hath vouchsafed you many graces,) yet were you never meet to receive diverse other which he will now bestow upon you, before this present: and so shall you in the end receive the cup of salvation in steed of the bottle of vinegar and tears, and in steed of the bread of affliction the heavenly Manna, and the bread of life from the table of God & Christ. Wherefore suspect these thoughts to be of the enemy and not of yourself, cast into your mind of him, and not springing of incredulity: I am out of God's favour: I am reprobate from his kingdom, there remaineth no hope for me: I have no faith. For such are his temptations of old, & daily they be the points he laboureth in against God's children, if not to wring from them their hope, at the least to weary their days with heaviness, and discomfort. Neither esteem yourself, presently by that you feel; but by that you have felt, when nothing hath overshadowed that light of knowledge, faith, and zeal, but the full brightness of these graces hath broken forth. For why have not these doubts risen unto you before time? and where is now the ancient assurance? They before time rose not, because the temptation was far of, and that assurance although by tempest of temptation, and by this spiritual storm it seem to bend, and to give back, yet is it invincible, and recovereth thereby more strength than ever it had before. Is the soldier worse appayed that sustaineth the combat, and standeth in the face of his enemy, though the terrible thunder of shot beat his ears, and he in peril of hitting; though he maintain the heat of the battle against the force of his enemy with peril? not a whit: he becometh hereby more valiant: he learneth experience, his skill increaseth, and his courage doubleth upon him. So in this spiritual battle you must not be discouraged like a milk sop, or a fresh soldier untrained or unacquainted with warfare: but set the victory before your eyes, which is already attained and purchased for you: and so much the more are you to endure with Christian valiance, in that here is no fear of overthrow: the battle is broken, and the enemies scattered, and only the captain requireth to be followed of you for whom he hath obtained the crown of victory, if the straggling tail of the enemy annoy they may show their malice and hostility but their force is foiled; and take heart only, and endure, and you shall see them vanquished, and submit unto that power of Christ which enableth you. You must consider that as in warfare the service is not always alike, neither keepeth the soldier the same degree, but is advanced of the general as he seethe cause: even so if the Lord now bestow you in a strange piece of service in his spiritual war, and place you in the forefront, whom he hath hitherto tendered as your condition required, you must be contented, and quite yourself like a man, and know that the wisdom of the heavenly captain is such, and his tender affection so great toward his followers, that in the midst of peril, not one hair of them shall miscarry whom he leadeth. Then to conclude this point, seeing your case is only a temptation, and no temptation is of itself (except that one) a sign of reprobation: cast of these discouragementes: and learn how to behave yourself herein, that you may pass through with credit of your vocation, and honour unto God, & joy & comfort to your faithful friends in the Lord jesus. You have read yourself & may partly perceive by my former discourse how melancholy persuadeth of misery where there is no cause, & some have imagined themselves to have wanted their heads, some their arms, other some have thought themselves dead men, and other some one member of their bodies as big as three: which as it persuadeth in corporal things that which is not, so no less doth it in spiritual things especially, being like a weapon taken into Satan's hand, and used to all advantages of our hurt and destruction. This maketh all more grievous, & is called of Serapio, the very seat of the devil being an apt instrument for him, both to weaken our bodies with, and to terrify our minds with vain, & fantastical fears, and to disturb the whole tranquillity of our nature. Wherefore ascribe I pray you these troubles of your mind to no other, but to the frailty of your body: I mean this excess of distrust, & fear, otherwise the temptation may be without it: and give no way to Satan's practice, in yielding your judgement and affection to his suggestion; but resist as against a sickness, and as nature doth with her spirit against bodily disease, so take courage, and call together the wisdom, and knowledge God hath given you, and now put it in use against this subtle, and forcible enemy. And through God's blessing by due use of such natural means as I shall hereafter declare unto you, both mind and body shall again be restored to the former integrity, and you have greater cause than ever to praise God for his mercy, and goodness towards you. Hitherto nothing hath befallen you, that diverse of God's children have not passed through before you, & although the battle hath been sharp & bloody even as our Master hath sweat drops of blood in the like combat, remember the victory is the more glorious, and the conquest so much the more honourable & sure: as we have experience in the person of jesus our Saviour which found no other way to his kingdom, and hath left unto us an example of like patience, constancy, & hope, and whatsoever virtue else is requisite to this battle of the spirit, and doth furnish us in all parts with spiritual armour. He girdeth us with truth, and buckleth on us the breastplate of righteousness: he shoeth our feet with the preparation of the Gospel of peace: he delivereth into the left hand the shield of faith, whereby we may quench the fiery darts of the devil, & into the right, the sword of the spirit, the word of God, and covereth our heads with the helmet of salvation. If we shall cowardly cast our armour and weapon from us, and betake us to flight, beside there is no place of safety, we shall dishonour our captain, give over ourselves to the pleasure and cruelty of our enemy, and finally perish for ever. Wherefore try the strength of this armour, and the sharpness of this sword, & now occasion is offered, march on with those shoes of peace, which is the end of war, and whereof they are the pledge and assurance, hold out that shield of faith, and although it be battered on all sides, yet forsake it not, for the temper is such as no fiery dart of the wicked can pierce it: and bestow that sword of God's word, the word of consolation, of joy, of assurance, of spiritual and heavenly wisdom, whereby the judgement is perfected, & the heart established, and the whole man of God made absolute. Forsake not that breastplate of the righteousness of jesus Christ, and that fruit of our sanctification whereby we are in his Son acceptable unto God: & with the helmet of salvation cover your head, that all the good means of God being to the full employed, you may fecle the power of this heavenly furniture to your present encouragement, & hereafter to your everlasting salvation. Let not your sins dismay you, for Christ came not to save the righteous, he supplieth all our wants, and hath abundance to discharge our debts. In him is God well pleased with us, as himself hath pronounced, so that being discharged in him, let us give over all fear, & with boldness approach unto the throne of grace that we may receive the mercy promised unto us, for if we be righteous, then is Christ unrighteous, and suffered for himself, and not for us: but he was just & pure, a lamb without spot or blemish slain for the atonement, that we might thereby live, broken that we might be healed, and humbled for our advancement. Wherefore lay the burden upon him, who hath said, come unto me all ye that are heavy laden, and he shall ease your wearied shoulders thereof, and give you refreshing. If there were no sin whereon should Gods mercy be shown? and whereto tendeth the promise of the Gospel? But you say you are a great sinner: what then? is not the mercy of God greater? is there any end of his compassion? If sin do abound, who shall stint the grace of God, that it should not also overflow? David was a great sinner, so was both Peter and Paul: yet were they not refused, but received mercy. And if the grace of God were so great, that our sins could not withhold his mercy when we were strangers from his covenant, aliens from the common wealth of Israel, and led with that spirit of error, and darkness, like the nations that know not God; much more being reconciled, stand we sure, and unremovable in his favour, though the clouds do sometimes overcast the bright beams thereof, & our own imbecility comprehendeth it not. Remember the trial of job: who would have taken him for other, than one forsaken of the Lord? what were his thoughts? let the day perish wherein I was borne. Why died I not in the birth? wherefore is light given unto him that is in misery, and life unto them that have heavy hearts? And in an other place: oh that I were as in times past! when God preserved me, when his light shined upon my head, etc. But what was the trial? God blessed the last days of job more than the first: even so, though the present affliction be grievous unto you, and all hope fail in respect of your feeling, yet the Lord when he hath proved you and found you his pure and sincere beloved son, the like issue are you assured of with comfort in this life, and eternal salvation in the life to come. Thus leaving a more plentiful consolation unto your godly friends who daily frequent you, especially such as are preachers of the word and ministers of God's grace, I proceed to instruct you in that I judge your body standeth in need of, that howsoever ability fail in performance of the offices of friendships on my part, towards you, my sincere affection and unfeigned love unto you may be at the least testified by my endeavour: wherein if I be tedious partly it is of forgetfulness of that consideration, being overcarried with desire to benefit you, and partly because in your case I also comprehend the estate of many one at this day in like sort affected and afflicted, who if they receive any means of comfort by this my travail, they may be more beholding unto my friend M. & pray for his release. Thus my good M. you have the testimony of my good will in this part of counsel. I confess I am not so meet for it, as your case requireth: but so have I discharged that office whereto the duty of friendship bindeth me. If my presence may supply the defect, I will not fail you wherein any part of mine ability may serve your wants I will now proceed to the cure of your body, whose disorder increaseth your heaviness, and joineth hand with this kind of temptation.   

CHAP. XXXVII. The cure of melancholy, and how melancholic persons are to order themselves in actions of the mind, sense, and motion.  
AS the ordinary cure of all diseases, & helps of infirmities are to be begun with removing of such causes as first procured the infirmity (except they be removed of themselves, through their nature, neither stable nor permanent) by succession of a contrary cause of the same kind: even so the first entry of restoring the melancholic brain and heart, to a better state of conceit, and cheer, is the removing of such causes as first disturbed judgement, and affection, or are thereto apt, with inducing of causes of contrary operation. The causes of all diseases are either breach of duty, and some error committed in the government of our health; or such accidents as befall us in this life against our wills, and unlooked for. From the same also do arise the works of melancholy, whereof I entreat, and you desire to be released. Our diet consisteth not only (as it is commonly taken) in meat, and drink: but in whatsoever exercises of mind or body: whether they be studies of the brain, or affections of the heart, or whether they be labours of the bodies, or exercises only. Besides unto diet, house, habitation, and apparel do belong, which are causes of maintenance, or overthrow of health, as they be affected. To these also the order of rest, and sleep is to be added as a great means, taken in due time, and in convenient moderation, to preserve health, or to cause sickness, if otherwise it be taken immoderately, too scant, or disorderly. Of the labours of the mind, studies have great force to procure melancholy: if they be vehement, and of difficult matters, and high mysteries: & therefore chief they are to be avoided, & the mind to be set free from all such travel, that the spirits which before were partly wasted, might be restored: and partly employed upon hard discourses, may be released, to the comfort of the heart, and thinning of the blood. Besides, such actions approaching nigh unto, or being the very inorganical of the soul, cause the mind to neglect the body: whereby easily it becmometh afterward unapt for the action, and the humours scanted of the sweet influence thereof, and spirit, settle into a melancholy thickness, and congeal into that cold and dry humour, which raiseth these terrors and discouragements. Wherefore above all, abandon working of your brain by any study, or conceit: and give your mind to liberty of recreation, from such actions, that draw too much of the spirit, and thereby wrong the corporal members of the body. For in maintenance of health it is specially to be observed, that the employing of the parts either of mind or body with their spirit, is to be carried with such indifferency, and discretion; that the force which should be common to many, be not lavishly spent upon any one. Now, study, of all actions, both because it useth little help of the body, in comparison of other: and because the mind chiefly laboureth, which draweth the whole body into sympathy, whereby it is neglected as it were for a time, and the most subtle & purest spirits thereby are consumed, is to be given over in the cure of this passion: or if the affection can not be tempered wholly therefrom, than such matter of study is to be made choice of, as requireth no great contention, but with a certain mediocrity, may unbend that stress of the mind, through that over vehement action, and withal carry a contentedness thereto, and joy to the affection. Now as all contention of the mind is to be intermitted, so especially that, whereto the melancholic person most hath given himself before the passion is chiefly to be eschewed, for the recovery of former estate, and restoring the depraved conceit, and fearful affection. For there, if the affection of liking go withal, both heart, and brain do over prodigally spend their spirits, and with them the subtlest parts of the natural juice, and humours of the body. If of mislike, and the thing be by forcible constraint laid on, the distracting of the mind, from the promptness of the affection breedeth such an agony in our nature, that thereon riseth also great expeence of spirit, and of the most rare and subtle humours of our bodies, which are as it were the seat of our natural heat, the refiner of all our humours, and the purifier of our spirits. As that kind of study, wherein the melancholic hath spent himself is to be avoided, or intermitted, and one of a milder and softer kind to be inferred in place thereof, so much less any strange study of difficulty, and much travel of the brain is to be taken in hand, as it were to turn the mind into a contrary bent. For herein the strangeness, besides difficulty giveth cause of travail and toil unto our nature: so that both these extremities are to be eschewed of you as most dangerous, and hurtful, and the mind to be retired to such a tranquillity, as the natural heat and spirits may have free scope to attend upon the corporal actions of preparing the blood, and thinning of the gross juice into a moderate substance, as is according to good disposition of the body. In study I comprehend (although they be diverse) all action of internal senses, which are ministers and servants of study, whether it be of learning, or of meditation, and invention: which later kind, far more toileth the body, than the former, and therefore farther of is it to be removed. Of internal senses, I take fantasy to be the greatest waist of these spirits, & most apt to thicken the blood, if it be excessive. For that imitateth the inventive action of the mind, and in a lower degree (if it be vehement & continual) maketh great waist of those two instruments, spirit, and heat, in the me lancholicke body. For as the action is, such is the spirit, and part thereof purer, subtler, thinner, as the action is of more excellency, & farther removed from corporal practice, and draweth nigher to the clear, and pure actions of the mind. If the melancholic be over much contemplative, it shall then be meet for him to withdraw his mind to corporal actions of grosser sort: that as the mind by speculation, after a sort disjoineth itself from the body: so the bodily exercise may revoke it again into the former fellowship, and exercise of bodily action. The outward senses because they consist rather in a kind of passion, their use doth not greatly hinder the thinness, which we require against melancholy, except they be over traveled with watching, which hath great force to drink up the spirits & moisture, and so to alter the bodily state into a melancholy disposition, tedious to mind and body. In their acts it is to be observed, that they be not in any respect irksome, or odious. For if they be such, the heart continually where the object is presented, now grown tender through the internal passion, flieth at the shadow of every thing that carrieth the smallest show of discontentment: and reclaiming his spirits about himself, leaveth the outward parts destitute of convenient measure, and by abundance about itself, corrupteth them in time, for want of sufficient respiration and breathing; which no less engendereth melancholy, than the former disorders afore mentioned; and as for the fearful passion, it increaseth it directly, and keepeth that immoderate fear in ure. Of all sensible objects, the visible, except they be pleasant, and proportional, give greatest discontentment to the melancholic. If besides their horribleness of shape, (or without it) they represent any significant type of tragical calamity, or mention that, wherewith the melancholic apprehension feign any fearful object: much more such spectacles are to be shunned of the melancholickes. And because darkness is as it were a pattern of death, it also is as much as may be to be avoided, and all cheerful sights, agreeable to virtue and piety, and to be embraced, and sought after; which as the other sort, close up the spirits, and giveth the heart assaults of hostility, may allure them out again, and set free the distressed affection, and yield comfort to the amazed heart. Next to visible things, the audible object most frighteth the melancholic person, especially besides the unpleasantness, if it carrieth also signification of terror: & here as pleasant pictures, and lively colours delight the melancholic eye, and in their measure satisfy the heart, so not only cheerful music in a generality, but such of that kind as most rejoiceth is to be sounded in the melancholic ear: of which kind for the most part is such as carrieth an odd measure, and easy to be discerned, except the melancholic have skill in music, and require a deeper harmony. That contrarily, which is solemn, and still: as dumps, and fancies, and set music, are hurtful in this case, and serve rather for a disordered rage, and intemperate mirth, to reclaim within mediocrity, then to allow the spirits, to stir the blood, and to attenuate the humours, which is (if the harmony be wisely applied) effectually wrought by music. For that which reason worketh by a more evident way, that music as it were a magical charm bringeth to pass in the minds of men, which being foreseen of wise law givers in times past, they have made choice of certain kinds thereof, and have rejected the other, as hurtful to their common wealths; which agreement betwixt consent of music, and affection of the mind, when Aristophenes perceived, he thereby was moved to think, that the mind was nothing else but a kind of harmony. In the other senses the objects only are to be choysed, sweet in taste, pleasant in smell, and soft to be felt, that all outward things may allure, and give courage in steed of that cowardly timidity wrought by the humour. Motion doth much more, if it be vehement, and draw to the nature of labour, and withal continual. For that drieth the body excessively. And although for the present it be hotter through such travel: yet consuming the spirit and moisture, which are matter of this heat: in the end it decayeth also, as fire without fuel, and the lamp without oil. As these actions of body and mind being over vehement, and excessive bereave the humour of spirit, and waste the natural heat, which being spent, whatsoever else is of the body is more gross and earthy, & becometh a lake of melancholy: even so if altogether these actions cease, that neither the mind nor body bestow themselves in good studies and exercises, then on the contrary part this worketh the same that the other excess doth: and even as water that standeth, and is not stirred, corrupteth, & waxeth gross and thick; and like as the lamp that wanteth air goeth out, though plenty of oil be ministered; even so without this stirring of spirits, humours, & blood, all settle into a gross residence of melancholy, and the whole mass of blood easily degenerateth unto that humour and for want of exercise the natural fire being slakened, and the spirit thereby engrossed, that which endued with both with just measure, and equality convenient, was before a cheerful juice comfortable to all the parts, and a sweet dew to the earthy substance, congealeth into a grossness far unmeet for that use, and of a quite contrary disposition.   

CHAP. XXXVIII. How melancholic persons are to order themselves in their affectiont.  
AS in studies, exercises of the brain, sense, & voluntary motion, great moderation is to be kept of melancholy persons: even so no less regard (if not more) is to be had of them in restraining their affections, and guiding them with such wise conduct, as at no time they break forth into outrage, and shake of the gentle and light yoke which reason imposeth. I will not now dispute whether vehement study, or disorderly perturbations is more to be taken heed of only take you no less care in the one then in the other, except you find yourself to have fallen into excess, and to have surfeited more of this, then of that excess: If you have so unequally exceeded, and the effect hath prevailed with you: that kind, whereof you have most cause to complain, there refrain, and employ those gifts of wisdom, and virtue wherein in times past you have been a pattern to others: and there keep the straightest hand, where the lists of reason are most like to be broke through. You have had declared how the excessive travail of animal actions, or such as springe from the brain, waist and spend that spirit which as it is in the world the only cheerer of all things, & dispenseth that life imparted of God to all other creatures, so in man's nature, is the only comfort of the terrestrial members: which spirit being consumed, or impaired, leaveth the Massy patrs more heavy, gross, and dull, and farther of removed from all prompt, and laudable action of life: this effect as it is wrought by that kind of disorder, in like manner, a perturbation whereon reason sitteth not, and holdeth not the rain, is of the same aptness to disturb the goodly order, disposed by just proportion in our bodies: & putting the parts of that most consonant, & pleasant harmony out of tune deliver a note, to the great discontentment of reason, and much against the minds will, which intendeth far other, than the corporal instrument effecteth. If you will call to mind histories, you may remember how some have died of sorrow, and othersome of joy, and some with fear, some with jealousy, and othersome with love: have been bereaved of their wits even those most excellent in all the parts of reason, and sound understanding, and thereby have made such perturbance of spirit in their brains that for credit of wisdom, and in stead of reputation: of discreite men they have through these latter kinds of unbridled affections, worthily carried the name of fools, and men void of all discreet consideration, in the whole race of their life following. This cometh to pass in some by troubling of spirit only which require not alone due quantity, and temper, but a calm settling, and tranquillity, moved indifferently, as just matter of perturbation shall give occasion. In othersome by lavish waste, and predigall expense of the spirit in one passion, which dispensed with judgement, would suffice the execution of many worthy actions beside. Hereto may furthermore add, that as a member of the corporal body over vehemently forced by straining, is in peril of luxation, & sometimes thereby becometh altogether disjointed, and the part looseth the freedom of flexible motion, even so the spirit, overforcible strained to one vehement passion: carrieth the disposition of the part therewith, and in giving over by too much yielding to the violence of our passion, standeth as it were crooked that way, and with an over reach of the reigning perturbation, being past recovery, inclineth wholly whereto it was forcibly driven. Wherefore the perturbations are discreetly so to be ruled as always there do remain sufficient power in reason's hand to restrain. Of these some perturbations directly & immediately increase both passion and humour, of which sort are saddenes, and fear. Other some passing measure, not so much of themselves procure either, as they do feeble the melancholic bodies, as anger, and joy, both by excessive effusion of spirits, and sudden alteration from the hearts contraction to such dilatation as those affections procure. In joy if it break forth into immoderate laughter: then doth it more feeble the melancholickes, and breath out there spirits and leave a pain in their sides and bellies which parts are greatly travailed in laughter. For although it should seem meet in respect of the thinning of the humour by flowing of spirit, and blood into the outward parts from the inward centre, and alteration of the passion by the contrary affection, yet the feebleness of their bodies, and scant of spirits their humours being unapt for plentiful supply, respect not that consideration, but require such an expulsion of one affection by the other, that the body itself notwithstanding sustain no detriment: otherwise the combat would be so sore, that nature not being able to bear the force of each passion, would be dissolved by violence of that contention. So that as all matter of fear is to be abandonned, excessive joy is also to be eschewed as a great feebler of melancholic persons, chief if they be women, or of tender and rare habit. If the melancholy rise of any perturbation, that especially is to be altered, & brought into a mediocrity whereof the passion take first beginning. Among them fear, and heaviness are of most force, and as they are procured according to the vehemency of the cause, so the kind of heaviness and fear more or less encountereth reason, and frighteth the melancholic heart. We both fear, and are sad for the loss of those things which with delight and pleasure in time passed we enjoyed, and are tormented with despair, and grief when (in those things which we desire,) there is no hope to lay hold on. Among the sundry sorts of subjects to these passions, some are of necessity, and some of pleasure. Such as are of necessity either respect the natural maintenance of our bodies and lives, or honest reputation amongst men. The natural maintenance of life is of such force in this case that it moveth beyond measure even the wisest and most settled, and admitteth no moderation. If it be imbecility of body & void of pain it is borne more tolerable. Reputation, men of virtuous, and courageous disposition tender as their lives: whereby they are in a manner in like case and sometimes more affected with hazard thereof, then if life were in danger. The reason is because credit and estimation toucheth the whole person of the man, and not either mind or body only, & hath the least means (being oncelost) to be recovered again, and besides the disgrace in this life, man (being immortal in soul) standeth in awe of the perpetual note of infamy which may remain after his death. This passion is most hardly borne of the ambitious and proud man in respect of that opinion he entertaineth of his own worthiness: & next unto him it settleth deep in the mind enlarged with the virtue called magnanimity, in respect his honour answereth not his merits. The objects which are pleasant, if they be natural, and not helonging to any one part, but unto the whole nature, of which sort is that love which upholdeth the propagation of kind, and is the only glue to couple the joints of this great frame of the world together: Here reason is often times failed of the passion, and (carried captive) submitteth where it should have pre-eminence, & rule. If it be of other things which nature hath not so wedded together, the loss is borne with more toleration, and where there is peril of want in them, despair toucheth more lightly. In respect of their own nature such is the condition of the things we desire in this world. But because the diverse qualities of men taketh them sometimes otherwise: therefore that passion and those occasions most urge as the party is therewith most passionate: some one way, some an other, as nature bendeth, or education hath framed. In these cases of grief and heaviness first of all instruction out of the Scriptures of God is to be ministered, and embraced, which offering the assurance of far better things, than the price of all worldly treasures, may swallow up whatsoever calamity this vale of misery presseth upon us: next, precepts of moral virtue and patience, with examples of constancy, and moderation in like cases ought to move, and consideration of that uncertainty of pleasure in this world, which is only constant in inconstancy, and as the heavens themselves stand not still, and the nature of things receive continual consuming like a stream that passeth: even so our state is subject unto like mutability, and with no other condition is our life delivered unto us of nature, through that original disobedience, nor is to be otherwise accepted of wise men. In this case I refer the melancholic to the books of the Scriptures, and moral precepts of Philosophers, to the godly instructions of the divines, and comfort of their friends. If love not answered again with like kindness, procure this passion, either amends is that way to be made, or the melancholic is to be persuaded the subject of that he liketh is not so lovely, and all mention, and signification of that kind is not once to be called into mind, but whatsoever justly may be alleged to the party's disgrace is to be objected unto the amorous melancholic, and other delights brought in in steed, and more highly commended, which all I leave to the prudency of those that attend upon this kind of cure. And if no other persuasion will serve a vehement passion, of another sort is to be kindled, that may withdraw that vain and foolish sorrow into some other extremity, as of anger, of some fear ministered by another occasion, then that which first was author of this sadness. For although they both breed a dislike, yet that proceedeth of other cause, rebateth the force of it which gave first occasion, and as one pin is driven out with another, so the later may expel the former: but this is to be used in regard of the conceit, and affection. If the body thereby be altered, and the blood thickened into melancholy, than all kind of grievance, is to be shunned, and only pleasant, and delectable things to be admitted. Thus much for the melancholic affection, how it is to be moderated and guided: other kinds of actions, of body, are not any causes of this passion, except in such as were wont by periods to be purged of certain melancholic blood: which (if it fail and minister cause, or increase of this humour,) is to be diminished by opening a vain, that may most conveniently supply that want of nature, and disburden it of the superfluity, as cause shall require, and force, & strength will permit. Ease and rest although it be alone of small power to engender, yet may it be an helping cause to the passion, & increase of this humour, so that here in mediocrity is to be kept, and exercise of one sort or other never to be omitted, as the chief temper of the spirits with the humours, & quickness of corporal actions. For as sleep resembleth death, and rest of the members is their kind of sleep, & doth that in particulars which sleep doth in the whole, so (if it exceed) as each resemble other in nature, in effect they will not be much unlike: but as the one cooleth the body, and corrupteth the blood, and extinguisheth natural heat, whose extinction is death itself, even so the other in a degree hinder the present expressing of that lively vigour, which they possess, and disableth them afterward to make proof of the faculty, wherewith they are endued. And thus have you in these two Chapters what government melancholic persons are to observe in their actions, and deeds that concern maintenance of health: in the next, I will lay open unto you of the outward means of sustentation of life what choice is to be made, and with what discretion such relief is to be used.   

CHAP. XXXIX. How melancholic persons are to order themselves in the rest of their diet, and what choice they are to make of air, meat, and drink, house, and apparel.  
THe rest of diet, consisteth in the right use of outward sustentation of life, which is either taken inward, or is outwardly used only. The inward and such as is to be received into our bodies: is either air, or sustenance. The air meet for melancholic folk, aught to be thin, pure and subtle, open, and patent to all winds: in respect of their temper, especially to the South, and Southeast, except some other imbecility of their bodies dissuade therefrom, and in the contrary part, marish, misty, and foggy air is to be eschewed as an increase of both humour, and passion. Sustenance is either meat or drink. Their meats ought not only to be chosen such as of their own nature do engender to pure and thin juice, but if the nature of the nourishment be otherwise, the preparation ought to give it a correction of that fault, and generally they should be liquid, and in form of broths, that both by the moist quality thereof, the dryness of the humour, and their bodies might be reformed, and that the passage & concoction might also be more easy, and speedy in all their parts. Nourishmentes of their own nature among meats, wholesome and meet for melancholic folk, and of vegetable things, are parsnep, carrot, and skerret roots. And salad herbs, lettuce, mallows, and endive mixed with a quantity of rocket, and taragon, are not to be refused, no more is aretch, sorrel and purslane with the late twain above mentioned, or with persley, charuell and fennel, with little vinegar, plenty of oil and sugar. Of sorts of bread, cheat bread, is meetest for them, and if they be charged with store of blood, and the veins full, some oats, barley, or millet flower mingled with the wheat meele, shall abate the abundant nourishment of the wheat. Of fruits, such as are moist, soft, and sweet are meetest for them, as the juice, damsing, cherry, figs, grapes, and apricots: neither are new walnuts, and green almonds hurtful in this case. Capers washed from the salt and vinegar, and eaten with sugar and oil are meeter for them then olives. Of flesh, the young is fittest for their diet, and the younger the better, in respect of their cold and dry bodies, and gross humours, which require plentiful moistening and warming, which is supplied by the tender age of those things whereof we feed: being fuller of vital heat, and natural moisture, than the older of the same kind. Neither is it requisite that they be young only, but also well liking, and of the same kind the tame, and domestical is meet for correction of their melancholic state, than the wild. Again of flesh, the foul is to be preferred for their use before the beast, and that foul rather which useth much the feet, and less the wing. Of foul these are of especciall choice for melancholic persons, the partridge, the godwit, the young pigeon, the pullet, the pheasant, & the young turkey, among these the goose wing hath his place, not to be refused if the melancholic have appetite thereto. And generally of foul the carved is better, than the other. Of beasts the gelded have preferment above their fellows of that kind: among them pig is meet for melancholy, farced with sage and such like art of cookery, to dry up part of his superfluous humidity: veal, especially of a cow calf, young wether mutton, kid, & rabbit are of the best kind of diet among the beasts for melancholic persons. Of the pats of flesh: the brawns and muscles are the best, and next to them the tongue is of second choice. Of livers, the pigs liver among beasts is the best, & the stones of cockerells yield commendable nourishment. Of flesh these above mentioned are most agreeable with the diet cure of melancholy, & such parts of them as I have declared: the other either breeding a gross, or slimy nourishment hard of digestion and slow of passage. Generally fish is not so wholesome as flesh for this use, because they be not so well stored with natural heat and moisture, except the imbecility of the melancholic stomach be such as will not bear the strength of flesh, then is the fish to be boiled with wine, and to be eaten out of some wholesome broth, or with good store of sweet butter, and savoured with pepper. If the party desire fish, these following are principal among them. And first generally such as are of a middle bigness, not too fat, nor lean, white, and brittle of substance, & haunt the swiftest and purest waters, are most commendable: for such breed subtlest nourishment, and least freight with excrements. Of salt water fish that bear shells, the oyster is only for this diet, of those that are defended with a crust, the shrimp, and crayfish go before the rest. Of other kind of seafish, such as haunt the rocks are excellent food for melancholic persons, corrected and used as I have before showed: as the gilthead, the whiting, the sea perch etc. Of other sort the mullet, the lucy, the haddock, the sole, place, but, gurnard and rotchet are to be admitted into this diet. Of fresh water fish, those of the river are to be preferred: & the rest scarce to be touched, except they receive correction from the kitchen. Of river fish these are of the wholesomest kind: perch, pike, gougeon, & trout. Thus of the substance of creatures you have what I judge meetest for you in this case. Of the other sort, nothing is to be refused but cowmilke, all other sorts carrying a thinner, and more liquid substance, and importing no peril of obstruction, nor windiness: especial taken with sugar and a little salt, & two or three hours before any other sustenance. As cow milk is the grossest and thickest, so mare's milk (except that of camels) is the thinnest, next of ass, goat's milk is most moderate, and ewes milk thicker than it. Of the parts of milk, whey drunk with sugar is wholesome for melancholic folk, neither is fresh and new butter to be refused, cheese made altogether of cow milk is unwholesome, mixed with goats, or asses milk, maketh it not so apt to breed obstructions. Eggs are good, and wholesome sustenance for melancholic bodies, roasted rather then sod or potched, and rear dressed somewhat the yelk thicker than to be supped. Of eggs, hens, feasaunts, and turkeys lay the wholesomest eggs, and are only for the melancholickes dish. Thus much concerning the meats fit for their diet. Their dressing aught to be such as may maintain their natural juice as much as may be, with removing of all rawness. Their sauces would be the juice of an orange or lemon, well qualified with sugar and sweet butter, especially if vinegar or verjuice be part in sauce, more in vinegar, & less in verjuice. Their drink would be of barley malt brewed with rain water, or spring water which is much drawn of, next to these river water may take the third place of commendation. It would be of a middle strength, & not too stolen: bear rather than ale, because the hops do greatly respect their liver and spleen, & scoureth the stomach, and maketh purer, and readier way for distribution of their nourishment. It shall be very good for them to drink at meals a draft of wine of good strength: claret rather than white, and of any kind well refined, and full of wine. If they drink their wine with sugar, it giveth greater cheering to them, maketh it to pass more easily, and mitigateth their melancholic sourness. Drink betwixt meals, or after meat is to be avoided, except great cause urge. Hitherto their sustenance, of what kind it ought to be of, and among such variety of food, and so many good blessings of God that way, what choice is to be made: as for their order of eating, and drinking, and measure of both, as liquid meats and broths are most convenient for them, so I take it, they may drink largely, (except some accident of the stomach dissuade) By reason their digestion is slow, my advise is, they eat little, and often: little because their strength beareth not much, nor such mediocrity as other men: often, because their spirits are few, and need repairing: besides the cold, sour, and settling humour of melancholy is to be refreshed as much as may be, with fresh and pure nourishment, and to be tempered, and mitigated with that sweet and gentle mixture. The outward maintenance of life, and sustentation of our frail bodies consist in house or habitation, & apparel, which both must carry these properties to be clean and neat, and in all respects as much as may be satisfying the mind of the melancholic. For although meats and drinks, and air, either unwholesome, or unpleasant bear great sway in disposing the humour, yet because they have not such power to affect the mind and senses as these other have, in respect of the passion, and melancholic affection, they work not so present annoyance. The house except it be cheerful and lightsome, trim and neat, seemeth unto the melancholic a prison or dungeon, rather than a place of assured repose and rest. And the apparel except it be light, clean, fit, and well sitting, maketh show of deformity, to the melancholic, and being ever in his eye, is a representation of his present calamity, very tedious unto him, or if it be not so in his conceit, being now far altered: yet agreeing with the humour, it may be means of increase thereof, and augmenting the fancy. The situation of his house, or at the least of his chamber, and place where he is most conversant, would be such as might let in such kind of air as I have before declared, & seated neither too low in any bottom, nor upon hill too high, except the melancholy be out of measure, sad and sullen, than an high, lofty, and troubled air, and such seat of house will not be amiss. If the melan colic be of ability, the house would not want ornament of picture, of gay and fresh colours, in such matter as shall be most pleasant, and delightful, and of all ornaments of house, and home, a pleasant gardin and hortyeard: with a lively springe, is above all domestical call delight, & meetest for the melancholy heart and brain. His apparel would be decent and comely, and as the purse will give leave somewhat for the time sumptious, as also the whole household furniture belonging unto him. Of colour, light, or changeable, except the place, & gravity of the melancholy person refuseth colours, and here no kind of seemly ornament would be omitted which might entice the senses to delight, and allure the enclosed spirits to solace themselves the outward parts of their bodies: here brouches, chains, & rings may have good use with such like ornament of jewel as agreeth with the ability and calling of the melancholic: and those not only curious, and precious by art, but especially garnished with precious stones that are said to have virtue against vain fears and baseness of courage. Of which sort are these following: the Carbuncle for virtue the chief of stones: The Calcedonye of power to put away fear and heaviness of heart, a clearer of the Spirits, and chaser away of fantastical melancholy visions. The ruby available against fearful dreams. The lacint a great cheerer of the heart, and procurer of favour. The Turcoyse, a comforter of the Spirits. The Chrysophars of like virtue. The Corneole a mitigater of anger and meet for molancholickes of the furious sort. Stones of base sort and yet of singular virtue, are the Chalydony, or swallow stone, found in the maws of young swallows, against madness: and the Alectorian or cocks stone, of a watery colour, found in the maw of a Cock or Capon after he be nine years old, above all commended for giving strength and courage, and wherewith (as it is reported) the famous Milo Crotonien always stood invincible. Thus have you the whole order of the melancholy diet. I do not remember any thing particular, and peculiar unto them necessary, more than hath been hitherto declared, wherefore in the next chapter I will also lay open what physic help is requisite in this case, and so recommend the success and fruit of my labour to the blessing of God upon you, and such as are partakers of like affliction. As for the furious melancholy, I leave it to be cured as disease and sickness, and will not meddle therewith in this place, being impertinent to my purpose, which respecteth only your estate, and such like condition of others.   

CHAP. XL. The cure by medicine, meet for melancholy persons.  
BEfore I enter to treat of the cure by medicine one word of admonition touching the use of the medicines and means shall be first necessary both for your sake, & others who may hereafter have use of this my counsel: my meaning is not to make you a phisicien, or to give warrant by this my labour to any rashly, & without direction of the learned phisicien, to adventure practice upon this advise, as the common sort is to venturous to attempt what they read of medicine delivered in their vulgar tongue, but that seeing the manifold good means which god in his great providence, and mercy hath ordained for the relief, you may take courage in the consideration of his goodness herein, and receive refreshing by the view of his aid though it be a far of, which the discreet application of the wise physician (who is made of God for the health of men) shall bring nigh unto you, and joining with this strength of melancholy, chase it far from you, and render unto you the former good disposition of your body, and desired tranquillity of your mind. For medicine is like a tool & instrument of the sharpest edge, which not wisely guided, nor handled with that cunning which thereto appertaineth, may bring present peril in stead of health, and where it should be a suecour, and maintenance of life, for want of art, may work a contrary effect, dangerous, and deadly. To the right applying of medicine, besides the particular considerations belonging properly to the art of physic wherein exercise maketh the physician prompt and expert, sharp of judgement, and circumspect in the cure, you yourself know what furniture of philosophy is necessary, even the whole course of arts, and knowledge of nature, but only to prepare, and to give ability, of conceiving, and learning the rules of preserving and restoring the health of man's body, which we call physic: so that as Galen sayeth in a book of that title, a physician ought to be a philosopher, the best philosopher maketh the best physician, neither aught any to be admitted to touch so holy things, that hath not passed the whole discipline of liberal sciences, and washed himself pure and clean in the waters of wisdom, and understanding. The abuse at this day is great, and common, defrauding the simple fort in their substance and hurting of their bodies under the pretence of experience, of secrets and hid mysteries of remedies, which these masked thieves, & murderers allege for colour of their lewdness. That (as I am persuaded) there are not so many honest and painful men of any one trade in the land, as their be lewd cozening varlets, that to avoid the travail of honest labour, feed upon the simplicity of the people, and make the pretence of physic the cloak of their idleness. Othersome there be of a curiosity not knowing what they do bold to attempt out of an english book the practice of any recite, and will not stick to encounter the judgement of the wisest and best practised physician. These are unthankful, and presumptuous. Unthankful in that they acknowledge not from whom they have received these wholesome means: presumptuous, in hazarding the health of an other, and adventuring their own credit upon the receipt of a medicine with peril of life where it is bestowed, which of itself is but an instrument only, and worketh good or hurt, as it is applied and guided: to the application whereof the long studies the knowledge of so many parts of philosophy and learning, the peregrinations, and conferences of learned men make proof, and give sufficient testimony both what is requisite, and how far of they be from modesty and honesty that being unfurnished altogether, of every part of these necessary helps, dare attempt the application of medicine whose nature they know not and of what disposition the body or part is whereto it is to be applied, they are utterly ignorant. But one will say they do sometimes good: they do so, but oftentimes hurt, and more hurt than presently appeareth, and with that good they in one respect do, in diverse besides they leave the body crazed, and make it afterward subject to greater infirmity: there cure being imperfect, accidental, uncertain, void of rule and reason. wherefore although you have for your part passed your course in philosophy & good learning and are not altogether ignorant of the precepts of physicians whereby this warning might seem less to appertain unto you, yet considering your present infirmity, and upon what grains & moments, and points of time this practice standeth: I counsel you & all other except the direction of diet that hath binbefore declared, & use of those familiar things which every one daily putts in practice, without the advise of the physician, (whose present eye may behold every necessity,) you utterly abstain, and take my labour herein as a pointing of the finger to that which I judge meet for you being in a place far distant, & where necessity may compel you to use what means of counsel you can get: & not such as you would: and upon the view of these manifold means of bodily health: consider how much more the Lords providence is ready at all need, to comfort our souls, in so much as the one is far more excellent than the other. Thus having given this warning I proceed to deliver the natural helps and ordinary remedies we do use in this case wherein your bodily health now standeth. Hitherto you understand what outward causes are to be removed, and what to be brought in stead of them, contrary in operation, and breeders of a better tempered humour. The next consideration (according to the method of curing) is to be had of such inward cause as resteth in the body, and hath been the effect of the outward annoyance: that is here the melancholic humour, and complexion of the body now degenerated thereby. The humour requireth evacuation, and emptying: and because your body is not only melancholic under the ribs but the whole mass of your blood is changed therewith: it shall be first necessary to open a vain: that both thereby you may be disburdened in part of that heavy load, and nature having less of that kind to deal withal, may alter the remnant into a more mild and pleasant juice: thin it in substance, and temper it with natural heat and moisture: in quality. Before any vain be opened a clyster is first to be received that may cleanse the entrails and diminish some part of the humour seated in those parts, it would be made of marshmallowes, hollyhocks, pelletory of the wale, mercury, beets, aretch, violet leaves, polypody, borage, bugloss, chammomile, hops, dill, and melilote, anise seeds, and fennel, decocted in ale or beer: and the decoction being made, an ounce of Confectio hamech with a dram of Hiera pichra added thereto. honey wherein rosemary flowers have been steeped, and oil of dill of each an ounce and a half, this or such like according to the discretion of the learned physician. The morning following the veins are to be emptied the necessity of the passion compared with the force and strength which moderateth all kind of evacuation, though the disease require large emptying. And because melandcholy blood is thick and gross, & therefore easily floweth not though the vain be opened, it shall help the bleeding to exercise your body a while before with such moderation that it be equally warmed, and the spirit, and blood stirred up. The Orifice would be somewhat large that no let be to the issue, & the grossness of the blood may have the free passage: yet so that it be no larger than is requisite, for wasting of spirits whereof melancholy persons have no store to spare. In the body the middle vain of the left arm is fittest to be opened, which, respecteth, both head, liver, and spleen: that betwixt the little finger and the next is of small use. In such as have the addust melancholy seated in their brains, the head vain is more direct for revulsion, and those about the head itself for evacuating and deriving. The tokens of seating there only, are with altered fancy and imagination, the body else carrying no melancholic signs, no sour belching after meat, nor heat with windiness, which all rise of the melancholy humour stopping the mesaraicke veins, and so procuring that unnatural & suffocating heat, which many melancholic persons complain of. The quantity which I would have you spare, let it be no less than nine or ten ounces, except the present action of opening minister other consideration. Now because you have had in times past the benefit of bleeding hemorhods, which now a long time are stopped at such seasons as they were wont to open, or now when they give any sign of fullness, swelling or pain, they would also be opened by applying a red onion to the place, or anointing it with the juice of garlic, or with bulls gall, or rubbing it with a fig leaf, or with horsleeches well purged, and prepared, and so applied the easiest way: by opening the inward veins of the ankle & such like remedies as may provoke the blood his usual way, and bring nature in mind of her wont discharge of that humour, which being stopped breedeth (as Hipocrates saith, and experience maketh proof) frenzies, melancholies, pleurisies, hard milts, & dropsies: and contrarily opened, & flowing moderately, delivereth from them all. If this melancholy falleth unto maidens, or women, & their ordinary course fail them, the veins of the hams or ankles are to be cut, and drinks of opening roots, fennel, parsley, butcher's broom, madder, and such like, with germander, goolds, herb grace, mugwort and nep are to be much used, with sittings and bathings in mallows, chammomile and nep, pennyroyal, bay leaves, fetherfew (and such like, which have virtue in that case) decocted in water, wherein so much honey hath been dissolved, as will give it a taste of sweetness: if greater force be required then a dram of the troches of myrrh in the former decoction are most forcible, the opening of vain before mentioned would be procured at the accustomed time, at the full moan in the elder sort, and the change in the younger. The thicker the blood is, the more the melancholic may spare, and the thinner, the less. Thus much I judge necessary for one kind of evacuation, which although it letteth out good blood withal (as in all bleeding) yet here lieth the benefit, that nature is partly disburdened, and so more easily governeth the rest, and by virtue of her natural heat, and spirit, correcteth with smaller help that which therein is farther to be reform, the spirits have free liberty, and great scope is given to the hearts dilating, the action peculiar to a cheerful disposition. The other kind of evacation is by purging: which leaveth the blood entry, only it cleanseth the body of that gross and thick settling, and is more peculiar, and directly singleth out the melancholy from the other humours: and because this humour is thick, and hardly moveth, and the passages, & veins of the body closer than whereby it may easily pass, (according to Hipocrates rule) both body and humour are to receive a preparation, and the parts of the body to be loosened, and enlarged, & the humour made more flowing and thin, both which may be brought to pass with one means at once: by choice of such natures as have virtue of attenuating, opening, & cleansing: and because the cure is not only intended against the melancholic humour, and that complexion of body, but also against the fancy, and affection, which we call in physic symptoms, always choice would be made of such as carry with them propriety to strengthen the altered brain, and to cheer the comfortless heart: or if that cannot be found in one simple, it is to be supplied by mixture. Their temper would be moderate in heat, except the natural temper of the body, time of year, sex &c. (and such like considerations) persuade on either side any declination. The simples meet for this preparation of body, & humour are these which follow: borage, bugloss, endive, fumitory, hops, betony, the sorts of maiden hair, ceterach, heart's tongue, polypody, doddar of thime, agrimony, cich pease, ash barks, caper barks, tamarisk, to which would be added opening roots, fennel, persley, smallage, butcher's broom, asparagus, and such like. Of these simples decoctions should be made, and mixed with syrups of like virtue, as with syrup of borage, of apples, simple, or compound, as that of King Sabor, syrup of fumitory, syrup of violets, of ceterach, syrup of epithymus or doddar of thime: all openers of spleen and liver, cleansers of the blood, & great preparers to the purging both of body, and humour: the use of them would be much, & often fasting that they may have their full force. Moreover to this use a kind of bear, brewed with the simples before mentioned, and some small relish of cloves and cinnamon given unto it: & so used as ordinary drink would be very wholesome for melancholic persons: and now and then if the stomach be raw & rheumatic, a draft of hippocras, or some aromatical wine giveth great comfort, increaseth the spirits, and maketh the blood thin. But here heed must be given that it be not too strong of spice, lest through too much heat, by evaporatinge the thin part, the rest of the blood remain more thick, and harder to be purged. Besides these inward preparations, and opening and thinning potions, the liver, and the spleen, and the parts under the ribs would be suppled with convenient fomentations and ointments, to soften to open, & to loosen those parts where the purging medicine hath most to do: this may be done with fomentations made of mallows, chammomile, melilot, figs, linseed, fetherfew, rue, and rose leaves, red and damask, and the part being a while supplied therewith, some mollfying and warming ointment is to be rubbed & chafed in gently, with a soft hand: as that which is called commonly resumptiuum, the ointment of briony, the ointment of swine's bread called cyclamen, upon which if need be a plaster of like effect may have very good use, as diachylum magnum, the emplaster of melilote for the spleen: ceroneum, diamelilotum of Andramachus etc. to these preparations, & disposings of body, & humour to the purging. If it seem good unto the physicians, & for variety, baths would be used of mollifying & moderately warming simples, as of mallows, marsh mallows, holihock, chammomile, melilot, pennyroyal, lineseed, roses, etc. In which decoction lukewarm, the body is to be kept half an hour at a time (or as present occasion shall direct) fasting, & in the while the parts under the short ribs suppled & exercised with a soft hand, anointed with oil of capers: oil of bitter alomonds, & a few drops of petroleum mixed therewith. After the body hath been thus prepared & the humour somewhat more lose, & easy to move: purgation is next to be attempted: by stool rather than by vomit, except the party be very apt thereunto, and the melancholy be chief seated thereabout. The simples proper to purge melancholy are these following: Sena, polypodie, black hellebore, and white, the azure stone, and more gentle than it, the Armenian stone, all which diligently prepared and corrected, & ministered in quantity meet for the patient's strength enter combat with this humour, & with such force chaseth it out of the body, that it followeth it even into the stool. The compounds are diasena confectio hamech: hieralogadion: pills of fumitory, Ind of the azure, and Armenian stone, in which the simples before mentioned receive their correction, & due preservation, far more safe to be used then the simple alone, all which purgers are to be received & mingled with some moisting decoction, as of barley, with borage, bugloss, violet leaves, & syrup of violetets, borage, bugloss etc. if they be electuaries, or powders, & if they be pills, a thin broth, drunk immediately after them, that both the liquid substance may give a speedy conveyance, & the dry humour soaked with that form of medicine, may more gently yield, & give place to the purge. When the medicine is felt now to have passed the stomach which is perceived that it yieldeth no medicinable taste to the mouth, by belching or breath, than some broth may be taken, made of such kind of flesh & herbs as have been before mentioned, and so (till the working cease) the whole action of the medicine to be endured. Thus much for purging by stool: if vomit be thought more necessary, (as I judge it very necessary in you) whatsoever emptieth the stomach by provoking nature that way (except the matter be very hard to move, & deep settled) shall suffice for that sort of evacuation. Vomit is very necessary when the stomach is moist & watery, and maketh show thereof by much spitting, when the patiented is troubled with sour belching, and when the meat is perceived (in moving of the body) to be lose, & jog in the stomach: then I say all other circumstances concurring together, vomit is to be used: first of the gentle sort: of which kind are radish roots, & seeds, pompion root, nettle seed, astrabacka root or leaf etc. if the cause & strength of the melancholic require a greater force of medicine, Stibium, & white hellebore are singular in this case: which both would be ministered in fat broth: the substance of Stibium, & the infusion of sneezing powder or white helleborus: being in substance most dangerous. This kind of hellebore more helpeth the fancy, and correcteth the brain, and the other more dealeth with the humour, & both discretely used perform a most wholesome evacuation. If the melancholic do labour much in vomiting, minister drink or thin broth, so shall the vomit be with more ease discharged. All perturbation of the body being ended, & the medicine having wrought the desired effect, the face is to be refreshed with some mixture of rose-water, and vinegar, and rose water is to be smelled unto, the mouth to be washed and some conserve of red roses, with a quarter so much of quince preserved, and one drop of oil of cloves, or cinnamon, would be received to strengthen the stomach again, to settle it quiet, & if any quality of the medicine remain to correct & alter it, what soever thereby the stomach should feel of discontentment. This emptying of stool & vomit, is so often to be repeated, & by such distance of time, as need requireth: the strength of the melancholic will bear, and the humour admitteth of preparation: especially the spring & fall crave this emptying at large.   

CHAP. XLI. The manner of strengthening melancholic persons after purging: with correction of some of their accidents.  
BEtwixt the spaces of purging regard is always to be had of strengthening the stomach liver, and spleen, with some ointment and fomentation outwardly, of a moderate astrictive virtue, and some inward medicine compounded of such simples as are accounted familiar, and simpatheticall to those parts: as of inward things, to the stomach mints, betony wormwood, sugar roses, maslites, galanga, mace, cloves, cinnamon, amber ginger. etc., of which, potions, powders, and electuaries would be made, and used for the stomach. Of the same matter fomentations would also be made, especially of Camomile, roses, wormwood, and agrimony. Of compounds conserve of wormwood, of sage flowers, of Enula campana, of mints are singular comforters of the stomach and bowels: the same virtue have green walenuts preserved, embliske, myrobolans, and green ginger: lozenges of Aromaticum rosatum, Dianisi. The ointementes are to be made of red roses, coral, mastic, mints, cloves, cinnamon, gum, aloes, with oil of wormwood, mastic, quinces. etc., and here the emplaster of a crust of bread, described of montagnana greatly strengtheneth the stomach, as also the stomach plaster of mesue. For the liver these are meetest strengtheners: liverwoorte, maiden hear, agrimony, fumitory hops, asparagus, wormwood, horehound, germander, sanders, ivory roses, raysinges, runcus odoratus, Calamus aromaticus. etc., of which stuff potions, powders, electuaries are to be received inwardly, and fomentations, oils, ointments, and plasters to be applied outwardly. Of compounds conserve of fumitory conserve of wormwood, conserve of maiden hear, Dialacca, Diacurcuma, Diacostum, open obstructions, and leave a strengthening virtue in the part: of the spleen, hops, doddar, ceteracoke, heath, caper barks, tamariske, acorus, gum lacca, centaury be peculiar comforters. Of inward compounds: diacosthum: diacalamentum, diacappairis, conserve of ceterach Of outward means, oil of capers, oil of spike, and oil of lilies compounded with maslich, cloves, cinnamon, saffron, coftus, and Calamus aromaticus are openers and comforters of the spleen: and of ointments, martiatum magnum: of plasters, Diaphenicon, etc. These wholesome medicines after the purges have satisfied the physicians intention, would be used and much applied both in respect of the party's disposition through the melancholic humour, and also by reason these do sustain the greatest force of purgations, and preparations afore said: and whose natures are easily dissolved, and always require a strengthening simple mixed with the rest: though they be of contrary operation. In the mean while of this preparation, and purging: both in respect of the fancy, of the brain, and affection of the heart, and the complexion of both, put out of frame by the humour, these two are chiefly to be respected, with cordials, and medicines appropriate. Cordial, simplesare these: borage, bugloss, the juice of pippins and parmaines, balm, Carduus benedictus, scabions, basill seed, vincois horad, beasar stone, ivory, pearl sapphire, iacint, coral, amber, limon, and citron pile, cinnamon cloves, wine, suffran, angellica, marygooldes, with a number of like nature, the great providence of God being such that this noble part of the heart hath more helps and comforts peculiar thereunto, than any part of our body beside. The compounds usual are these: conserve of borage, and bugloss flowers, of orange flowers, of gilly flowers, and carnations, diamagariton calidum, the electuary of precious stones, letificans Galeni mithridate dianthos, etc. Of the decoction of which herbs afore mentioned, epithemes may be made, and quilts of the powder of them, besprinkled with malmsey & vinegar. Which form of outward medicine made of simples agreeable to the stomach is good thereto also to be applied: whose mouth doth greatly agree with the heart, and easily driveth into passion. As the heart's affection is to be corrected, by amending the instrument: so the brains conceit requireth no less regard: for which these medicines, following are yielded to our comfort: sage, betony, sweet mariorume, rosemary, chammomil, myrtle, rue, peony, spite, storax, benoyne cloves musk, amber grease. Of compounds: conserve of rosemary flowers, of acorns of betony, of stechas, sage, peony, and primrose Dambra, Diamoschum dulce, and amarum. Neither is the brain and heart only cheered, & comforted by the inward receiving of these simples only, but whatsoever of them is of pleasant and fragrant smell, that agreeth with each, & giveth recreation and increase to the spirits of both. So that sweet smells are both in respect of heart and brain most comfortable to the melancholicks. Thus the melancholic body, dieted, prepared, purged, & strengthened, what is there more to be done of natural means only this: After all this course taken, and diligently observed so long as it shall seem expedient and necessary to the learned physician for the health of this melancholic patient, (among whom I account you the subject of this my counsel) nature must have a time and respite given, to try her own strength, according to the counsel of Ruphus, and not to be tiered with medicine, the diet notwithstanding being kept diligently which hath been prescribed and all kind of honest exercise, and recreation practised & procured. If the melancholy be adust, (which it is not in you) then breedeth it a kind of fury, and madness, and requireth a cooling: & particular consideration: whereof (because it is very rare in respect of the other kind, & entereth into the rank of evident disease) I mind not here to discourse being only willing thus far to satisfy your desire, wherein your case (& such as are in like condition with you,) require it. If any accidents befall you through this infirmity, of hardness of body you may use the clyster before mentioned without the purging medicines, with three ounces of oil, and as much of honey: or you may take an handful of mallows, holylock, violet leaves, beet, and fetherfew, anise seeds, or fennel seeds half an ounce beaten with an handful of course where bran tied in a linen cloth & boiled in thin whey: to a pint of which being strained, add oil, and honey, with half a spoonful of salt: and receive it for a clyster: or drink fasting a spoonful or twain of sweet salad oil in a draft of whey: or eat a quarter of an ounce of conserve of damask roses, with thirty. grains of the purest salt peter, and drink it: and especially let your broths always have some soluble herbs, that may give you that benefit, as mallows, violets, mercury, aretch, beets and such like. If your sleep fail you through vehemency of cogitation, and fear: let your hands and feet be washed with the decoction of dill, chammomill, lettuce, poppy mallows, and willow leaves: and anoint them with oil of poppy seeds made by expression: or take a dram of Mithridate, five grains of Opium three of saffron, with a spoonful of malmsey, and a grain or two of Camphire: put all into a limon pill emptied of the juice, and smell to it often about your ordinary hour of sleep: which means if they bring not the desired effect, swallow twenty grains of the piles of Cynoglosse, or take half a dram of Philomum going to bed for other some other wholesome opiates medicine well corrected. If your body be much troubled with wind (as it is for the most part a companion of this kind of melancholy:) ye must use a fomentation to your stomach belly and parts about the short ribs with oil and malmsey wherein rue, fennel, cummine, and anise seeds, and herbs have been boiled, and inwardly you are to take fasting Deatrion piptrion, diaciminun, or diagalanga the quantity of a nutmeg at a time: and now and then cerecloath of gums, with oil of mints, and rue, worn upon those parts, shall be of great force to waste the wind, to warm them, and to give them strength. Thus my friend M. have you my whole counsel, what I judge meet for you in this case, my philosophical discourses to pass your time with, who hath always delighted in philosophy: my consolation in respect of that Christian duty which I own you, wherein if I have so busied myself, that my care that way hath exceeded my power, & ability, so esteem it, and so measure that discharge. My physic, cure: of diet, of preparation of your body, of evacuation, of strengthening, of correcting, and cutting of certain troublesome accidents that fall to this humour, it is not so copious, and absolute as peradventure may fit your estate, & leave no question of doubt, but (if I mistake not the case very much) for substance and ground of the cure you shall nor need to make farther inquiry Although I remember your travail in philosophy, and study of physic, to which both you have had a natural disposition, and take pleasure in reading our writings of precept & rule take advise of some learned, and virtuous physician about you, and adventure not upon any part of evacuation without his direction: Otherwise you have this as a touchstone to prove the skill of such lewd people as at this day are impudently bold with the hurt of others, to deceive boasting, & lying, and covering the poverty of their understanding, with gorgeous words, and rich pomp of phrase: otherwise being as empty of knowledge as they be quite void of all virtue and honesty. I say let it be a rule to square and try them by: and if such knowledge (whereof here you may have the taste) be necessary in an infirmity of no peril of life (though it make it tedious, and irksome) what advisement and care is to be had whom to call for, & what physician to make choice of in diseases full of danger, sharp, and swift, and whose cure (if art be not in all points performed) is not without leaving such scar, that no rebating, no detersive medicine is able to pair & wipe away the blemish: not an eye sore, but a maim, and fixed imbecility in stomach, in brain, in heart, or liver, nor that by nature's error, or by an ordinary breach of diet which are more gentle, but through an outward violence and force, against which nature hath no skill to help itself, nor power to resist. As I give you this warning to beware, so whosoever shall reap any fruit of my labour taken in hand for your sake, let them also take this admonition from me, rather than to attend with their own hurt, & expense, the instruction & discipline which experience bringeth. Thus my good M. with this caveat, I commend the blessing & success of my labour to the Almighty, who restore you if it be his will sound in body, cheerful in mind, and assured in faith of his sweet mercy and favour.   
FINIS.   

Faults escaped in the printing, wherein the first number signifieth the page, the 2. the line.  
For material, natural. 4.2. for any an. 6.30. for was, were 8.10. for assimilate, assimilate. 10.11. for in of. 12.33. for enjoyeth, enjoy. 17.19. for and, an. 20 27. for fitteth, fitteth therewith. 21.8. for our, other. 21.27. for then the. 21.29. for to, of. 20.11. for act, art. 20.13. by an accidental, put out by. 24.23. for recovery, may. 26.1. or and from their, or from. 27.18. for have the pools, haunt the. 29.7. for miflie, misty. 30.21. for in that, that. 39 4. for being, beginning. 51.9. If you will descend etc. 54.19 should follow decayeth. l. 13. for then, the. 57.27. put out it. 68.11. for whereof thereof. 74.13. for depending, depend 77.4. for lightly, rightly. 79.13. for is, it. 86.5. so is overmatched, and is overmatched. 86.5. put out by 103.25. be offered. 104.21. impossible, as I take it. 118.18. put out by 121.23. overcharged. 131.19. this greediness. 131.3. proneness of nature. 134.10. benummet. 139, 5. distraction 140 1. our most dear. 140.13. one and the other. 14●. 8. cords. 157.27. both laughing. 161.15. put out the first &. 163.11. own heat. 165.19. the body. 165.20. either in doing. 168.4. expiration. 169.30. near neighbourhood, 175 17. vehement revenge of himself for the offence. 167.8. barbarous. 193.14. success. 222 17. put out of. 124.29 put out the. 158. vlt. for destruction, distraction. 140.1. put out hinder. 144. vlt. put out large. 160 vlt less for her. 180.32 with for mith. 194.16. sinews for sinners. 198.21. for entereth seemeth. 204.1. for which, with. 222. last. read found you pure and sincere in his beloved Son. 241.9 for duty, diet. 242.21. for allow, allure. 248.3 for Aristophanes, Aristoxenes. 248.14. put out the first with. 249.15. for may, read may ye. 251.23. for soiled read sailed. 254.14. for to, a. 258.1. for of, and. 258.13. for juice read sweet. 258.25.