A TREATISE CONCERNING enthusiasm, As it is an Effect of Nature: but is mistaken by many for either Divine Inspiration, or Diabolical Possession.  
By Meric Casaubon, D.D.  
AD ARDUA PER ASPERATENDO  
LONDON, Printed by R. D. and are to be sold by Tho. Johnson, at the Golden Key in S. Paul's churchyard. 1655.   

To the READER.  
I Have been present sometimes at some discourses, and have lighted also upon some relations, in print, concerning Visions and Revelations, that have happened unto some. I did not apprehend them always, as they seemed unto me to do, that were partakers with me of the same whether relations, or discourses. But neither was I so confident, that I was in the right, and they in the wrong, as peremptorily to conclude any thing in mine own thoughts: much less so confident, that I could think it needful, to oppose by words and arguments, what was believed by others, different from mine own opinion. For how indeed should I be confident, that I was in the right, without the diligent examination of several circumstances, unknown unto me, and as little perchance known unto them that were of another opinion? without which to conclude of particular cases, by general Rules and maxims; I knew full well, to be a principal cause of most strifes and confusions, that either disturb the brains, or divide the hearts of men in this world.  
But even when more confident, upon good and perfect knowledge of all circumstances; yet where no manifest danger is, either of impiety towards God, or breach of peace, whether public or private, among men: I never did think myself bound to oppose; no more than I did think that my opposition would be to much purpose. I am not of the opinion of some ancient Philosophers, that man is the measure of all things, and therefore that whatever appeareth true unto any, is in itself as it appeareth unto him: neither do I think so meanly of any truth, that can be reduced to any reality, whether sensible or unsensible; as to think either Lands, or Jewels, too dear a price for it. However, as all men's brains are not of one temper, naturally; nor all men equally improved by study; nor all led by one interest: so is it, I think, as impossible, by any art, or reason of man, to reduce all men to one belief. I cannot think that the wars of the Giants against the Gods, and their attempt (feigned by the Poets,) of scaling Heaven by heaping high Mountains upon one another; can by any sober man be conceived either more ridiculous, or impossible, than the project of some men (for which also some books have been written lately:) doth appear unto me, of making all men wise. I think myself bound to judge of others as charitably as may be: but though I would, yet I cannot conceive, how any man can, really, promise himself so much, or make boast of it unto others; but he must think himself either more good, or more wise, then Almighty God. Or if he pretend to act by God, as his instrument, or deputy: yet even so, more wise, or more successful than Christ, the Son of God: who though he was come into the world, as to suffer for men, so to teach men wisdom, without which his sufferings would do them no good; and might have made use of his Omnipotency, had he pleased, to transform all men, even the dullest of men, in a moment of time, to make them more capable of his instructions: yet thought that way best that he chose; and after many Miracles, by himself and his Apostles; and his heavenly Doctrine, contained in the Gospels, and the writings of his said Apostles; left many men to themselves as before; and was content the world should continue (which it hath already done 1653 years since) for a while; though it consisted of men, more bad, then good; more fools, then wise. But this is too much, to them that will not be the better for it: and I do not desire to make sport unto others.  
Since my forced retirement into this country life; among those few books which have had the luck to stick to me, not many years since I lighted upon one, whereof I can give very little account, if I should be put to it, how I came by it, or it to me; but found it among the rest; the title whereof is, The life of Sister Katherine of Jesus; nun of the Order of our Lady, etc. at Paris, 1628. The title did not much invite me to read: but being at very good leisure at that time, and turning the leaves to satisfy myself with a superficial view; I soon observed somewhat that I thought extraordinary, and further provoked my curiosity. For besides a long dedication to the Queen of France, made by a Cardinal; I observed at the end, the approbations of several persons: of one Bishop, one Archbishop, besides Sorbonists, and Doctors of Divinity, no less than four: all these approbations, distinct and several; and some of them very long, and written with great accurateness both of style, and matter. I then resolved to read in good earnest. But though I had both will and leisure enough; yea and resolution too, to read unto the end, before I gave it over: yet was my reading often interrupted with different thoughts and contests; which made great impression in my mind. I found the book to be a long contexture of several strange raptures and enthusiasms, that had happened unto a melancholic, or if you will, a devout Maid. 
See the particulars, at the end of the 3. Chapter, Of contemplative, or philosoph. Enthus. pa. 119, etc.  In this I saw no great matter of wonder: Neither could I observe much in the relation of the particulars, but what as I conceived, rationally, probable; so I might believe, charitably, true. I could observe, as I thought, a perpetual coherence of natural causes, in every particular; which gave me good satisfaction. But then that such a judgement should be made, of such an accident, wherein I apprehended so little ground of either doubt or wonder; and this judgement, not the judgement of a woman only, the Author, as is pretended, of the whole relation; but of men of such worth and eminency: this in very deed troubled me very much. I did often reason with myself, against myself: That it was as possible, that what I thought reason, and nature, might be but my fancy and opinion; as that what by such, and so many, was judged God, and Religion, should be nothing but Nature, and Superstition: that where the matter was disputable, and liable to error, it was safer to err with authority, then through singularity. These things and the like I objected to myself: but for all this, the further I read, the more I was unsatisfied and disturbed in mine own thoughts; and could have no rest, until I did resolve, as soon as any good opportunity should offer itself, to make it my business, so fare as I might by best inquisition, throughly to satisfy myself.  
This opportunity, after I had acquitted myself, so fare as in me lay, of some other things, wherein the public weal of Learning may be more concerned; (whereof I have given an account to my friends:) having offered itself some months ago, because nothing else did then offer itself, that I thought more needful; I thank God, I have satisfied myself. I have, so fare as by private inquisition I could: but then shall I think myself fully satisfied, if after the publication of what I have done to that end, I shall find it satisfactory unto others also, that can judge of these things, and are not engaged; as well as unto myself. However, it is a subject of that consequence, as will be showed in the Preface; and, as all confess, liable to so much illusion; that no reader, that loveth truth more than appearances, though he do not acknowledge himself satisfied with what I have written; can have just cause nevertheless, to repent that this occasion hath been given him by me, to satisfy himself more fully. It may concern him, he knows not how soon. He may deceive himself; he may be deceived by others; if he be not armed against it. Pro Junone nubem, to embrace a Cloud, or a fog for a deity; it is done by many, but it is a foul mistake: let him take heed of it.   

The Contents of the several Chapters contained in this Treatise.  

CHAP. I. Of enthusiasm in general.  
VArro's opinion, that heroic men should believe themselves, though falsely, to be descended of the Gods, etc. noted and rejected: in Alexander the Great his Case particularly. ¶ The consequence of this knowledge or Disquisition. Politic pretensions to enthusiasm, or Divine Inspiration, very usual in all Ages: But mistaken, through ignorance of natural causes, (our only Subject and aim in this Treatise) as more frequent, so more dangerous. Enthusiastic times and tempers noted by ancient Authors. In those times the Eleusinia, Bacchanalia, and other Mysteries hatched. The abomination of those Mysteries, though pretending to great holiness and piety. Ancient Theologues and Poets, pretending to Divine Inspiration, the authors and abettors of Idolatry. Heresies among Christians through pretended inspirations. Mahometism. ¶ The word enthusiasm, what it implies properly. The division of enthusiasm according to Plato and Plutarch. Plutarch's Definition. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in Plutarch; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in Actuarius. A difficult passage out of The Physical Definitions, attributed to Galen, concerning enthusiasm, explained and amended. Our Definition (or description) and division of enthusiasm, into nine several kind's, or Species. Theophrastus' his Treatise concerning enthusiasm, whether extant. Meursius' his conjecture about the Title rejected.   

CHAP. II. Of Divinatory enthusiasm.  
All true Divination most properly from God. Opinions of Heathens about the causes of Divination. Plutarch corrected. Divination in a more general sense. Some kinds of it merely natural, or physical. Our question here of enthusiastic Divination, particularly, whether any such from Natural Causes. But first of all, whether any such among Heathens anciently, truly and really. The grounds of the contrary opinion discovered and refuted. Pythones, or Pythonici, in the Scriptures and ancient Histories. Pomponatius and Tho. Leonicus noted. The Question rightly stated. First of all, a concurrence of natural causes in some cases generally granted. Some Enthusiasts not only foretell things future, but also speak strange Languages, through mere natural distemper, according to the opinion of some Physicians. But the contrary more probable, and why. That some things of like nature, (in some respects,) as enthusiastic Divination, and not less to be wondered at, are certainly known to proceed from causes that are natural, though unknown unto men: and some things also, though from causes that are known, not less wonderful in their nature. Instances in both kinds. The power of smelling in Dogs. An Example out of an Author of good credit, of a man, who being blind, was a guide unto many that had eyes, by his smell only, through vast Deserts. The power and nature of the Memory in man, how incomprehensible, and how much admired by both Divines and Philosophers. The invention of conveying secret thoughts at any distance, whether of place or of time, by writing, how admirable a thing. Their opinion that fetch Divination from the nature of the Intellectus agens, in every man. The opinion of Aristotle in his Problems, (some question about the Author;) of the effects of atra bilis or melancholy, a probable ground of some natural divination. But after some general grounds and propositions, the continual 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or emanations of bodies, according to Aristotle and others, and the parturitions of causes, (or foregoing natural signs of strange events and alterations,) discernible to some tempers, as also the concatenation of natural Causes, according to the Stoics, a more probable ground. The Divination of dying men. A notable observation of Aretaeus, an ancient Greek Physician, to this purpose. Enthusiasm by vast prospects, and other natural objects.   

CHAP. III. Of Contemplative and philosophical enthusiasm.  
Contemplation; θεωρία: the happiness of God, (and thence the Greek word,) according to Aristotle: The chiefest pleasure of man in this life, according to divers of the Epicurean Sect. Lucretius the Poet, and Hypocrates the first of Physicians, their testimonies. Plato and Philo Jud. their Philosophy. ¶ The dependence of external Senses on the Mind: their operation suspended by the intention of it; as particularly, that of Feeling: and the usefulness of this knowledge, for the preservation of public peace, and of whole kingdoms, showed by a notable instance out of Thuanus. Some cautions inserted to prevent (in that which follows) offence by mistake. ¶ Ecstasis; the word how used by the Ancients: how by later writers. The words of S. Mark 3. v. 21. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for they said, etc. vindicated from a wrong and offensive interpretation. Ecstasis taken for a total suspension of all sensitive powers, the effect sometimes of Contemplation, and earnest intention of the mind. Enthusiastic Delusions incidental to natural Ecstasies, and bodily distempers, proved by many examples, both old (out of Tertullian, etc.) and late; one very late, in Sussex. This matter how subject to be mistaken, even by men judicious otherwise, through ignorance of natural causes. One notable instance of it. The power of the phaensie in Ecstasies, and other distempers of body, against Reason, and perfect (but in some one object) understanding; argued by reason, and proved by many examples and instances. A sure way to avoid the danger of enthusiastic Illusions, out of Tertullian, Not to seek after New Lights, etc. A caveat concerning the case of Witches: their actions real, not imaginary. ¶ Several questions proposed, and fully discussed by reasons and authorities. First, Whether a Voluntary ecstasy be a thing possible in nature. Giraldus Cambrensis, and his Enthusiasts: Merlin's. Turkish Enthusiasts. The Messaliani, or Prayers, so called anciently. A consideration concerning the nature of their distemper, whether contagious or no. Secondly, Whether in Natural, or Supernatural and Diabolical Ecstasies there be, or may be (without a Miracle) a real separation of the Soul from the Body. Thirdly and lastly, (after a distinction of sight internal, and external,) Whether long Contemplation and Philosophy may transform a man into an Angelical nature, and unite him unto God in an extraordinary manner, by communion of substance, etc. ¶ That Mystical Theology, highly commended by some Christians as the most perfect way, shown to be the invention of Heathen Philosophers. Dionysius Areopagita, the first broacher of it amongst Christians, by some new arguments out of Theophrastus, Synesius, etc. further evinced a Counterfeit. ¶ A Relation concerning Visions and Enthusiasms that happened to a Nun in France some years ago, examined: and those Visions and Revelations, against the judgement of divers eminent men of France, maintained to be the effects of nature merely. Immoderate voluntary Pennances and bodily Chastisements no certain argument of true Mortification and Piety. ¶ Maximus the Monk and Martyr his writings: Eunapius Of the life of Philosophers: passages out of them vindicated from wrong translations. The Author of the New Method: and the beginnings of mahometism.   

CHAP. four Of rhetorical enthusiasm.  
The nature and causes of Speech, a curious and useful speculation: by the perfect knowledge whereof the deaf and dumb (so naturally) may be taught not only to understand whatsoever is spoken by others; as some (upon credible information) have done in England; but also to speak and to discourse, as one very lately, a nobleman, in Spain. A Spanish book teaching that Art. Another way to teach the dumb to speak, out of Valesius. A dumb man, that could express himself, and understand others perfectly, by writing. Another use of this knowledge, conceited, but not affirmed. ¶ The dependence of reason, and speech; both, λόγος in Greek. Rhetoric, what it is; of what use; and whether absolutely necessary. The matter and method of this Chapter, in 4 propositions or particulars. I. That divers ancient Orators did really apprehend themselves inspired, etc. Enthusiasm in point of speech, used by some Ancients metaphorically, or figuratively: by some others, properly, for divine inspiration. Longinus, Aristides, Apollonius in Philostratus, Quintilian, upon this subject. Seneca concerning the causes of high conceptions and expressions, inconstant to himself. His violent both style (in some places,) and spirit, noted. True valour and magnanimity, in meekness, according to Aristotle. A place of Plato considered of. Prov. 16.1. The preparations, etc. II. That rhetoric, or good language hath often had enthusiastic operation upon others. Demagogie, anciently, how powerful: the Athenians, particularly, blinded and bewitched by it. Acts 17.21. concerning the Athenians, illustrated. Philosophical Discourses, what made them powerful. Ancient Orators; Demosthenes and Cicero: their language both read, and heard, how strangely amazing and ravishing; proved by some notable instances. The Sophistae of those times, whose profession was, to amaze men both by set, and extemporary speeches. Gorgias the first of that profession, how much admired, and almost adored. Their usual Arguments. Their extemporary faculty, or ability publicly and suddenly to discourse of any subject that should be proposed unto them, proved by divers instances. calisthenes. The Tarsenses of Asia. Adolescens sine controversia disertus; in Aulus Gellius. This extemporary kind of speaking (by many now fond deemed inspiration) why not so frequent in our days: some reasons given for it. The learning of several tongues, etc. Synesius his way of extemporary speaking, much more strange, and almost incredible, Petavius the Jesuit, his translation of Synesius very faulty; and some examples of his mistakes. III. Whence that apprehension of divine inspiration. Ardour, Impetus, in Latin Authors: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Πῦρ, in Greek Authors. God himself, θερμὸν, according to Hypocrates. Not Heathens only, but Ben Maimon, and Philo Judaeus, both learned Jews, mistaken in this matter. An observation of Ribera the Jesuit considered of. Spiritus in Latin Poets: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Zeal, in the N. T. diversely taken, and diversely (which we think should not be;) translated. IU. What causes, truly natural, of those wonderful operations, mistaken by many for divine and supernatural. That some other cause besides that which is generally apprehended, must be sought or supposed, proved by the example of some notoriously wicked, as Nero, Dionysius, etc. who nevertheless took great pleasure in the exhortations of Philosophers, persuading to goodness and sobriety. As also by the example of poor mechanics, who neglected their trade, to please their ears. Passages out of Seneca and Plinius secundus, to that purpose. First then, The power and pleasure of music, in good language and elocution, proved by sundry authorities, and by arguments taken from the very nature of speech. Ezek. 33.31. etc. Musonius. The σύνθεσις or artificial collocation of words in speech, a great mystery of Eloquence. Dionys. Halicarn. his Treatise of that subject; and divers others. Contrary faculties working the same effect. A passage of Plutarch considered of. Somewhat of the nature of letters and syllables, and who have written of them. Rhythmus, in matter of prose or speech, what it is. The Organs of speech; and Greg. Nyssen interpreted. Secondly, The pleasure of the eyes in good language. The nature of Metaphors and Allegories. Aristotle, Cicero, Plutarch, (corrected by the way,) and some others, concerning them. Ἐνάργεια, or Ἐνέργεια, what kind of figure, and how powerful. Homer and Virgil, their proper praise, and incomparable excellency. Opus emblematicum, vermiculatum, etc. The excellency of that Art, and how imitated in the collocation of words. Dionys. Halicarn. and Hadrianus the Cardinal, their testimony concerning the ravishing power of elegant Elocution. Ancient Orators, their adscribing their extemporary speaking upon emergent occasions to Nescio quis Deus, or immediate Inspiration: and quintilians judgement upon it. ¶ upon this occasion, (as very pertinent to enthusiasm in general, though not to Rhetorical enthusiasm particularly,) a more general consideration of this Aliquis Deus, or Nescio quis Deus, frequently alleged by the Ancients upon sudden occasions, or evasions. Passages out of Homer, Cicero, Plinius Secundus, to that purpose. Plutarch his rule in such cases not allowed of. To make a particular providence of every thing that my be thought to happen extraordinarily, how destructive to God's providence in general. A place of Aristotle's considered of. Cures, anciently, by Dreams and Revelations. M. A. Antoninus, the Roman Emperor. Divine revelations and apparitions in Dreams (upon other occasions too) believed by Galen, etc. sorts Homericae. Something in that kind amongst Christians also; and what to be thought, (if sought and studied) of it. Great caution to be used in such things. Two extremes to be avoided; unthankfulness and Superstition.   

CHAP. v Of poetical enthusiasm.  
Poetical and Rhetorical enthusiasm, how near in nature; though the faculties themselves, (oratory and poetry,) seldom concurring in one man. The perfection both of Poets and Orators to proceed from one cause, enthusiasm. The division of Poets, according to Jul. Caes. Scaliger, Poets by nature, and by inspiration. Plato his Dialogue concerning that subject. Not only Poets, but their actors also, etc. according to Plato's doctrine, divinely inspired. Plato not to be excused in that Dialogue; though more sound in some others. Much less Scaliger, a Christian, for his expressions in this subject, if not opinions, as some have apprehended him. Homer (the occasion of Plato's Dialogue,) how much admired by the Ancients: by Aristotle, particularly. His language: his matter: and why not so much admired, and so ravishing in our days, as he hath been formerly. Some use to be made of him, for confirmation of the antiquity of the Scriptures of the Old T. No Poets (true Poets) made by Wine; disputed and maintained against Scaliger: though it be granted, that Wine may contribute much towards the making of a good Poem; and why. So, some other things, proper to stir up (in some tempers) the spirits, or the fancy, to enthusiasm; as music, etc.   

CHAP. vi Of Precatory enthusiasm.  
The Title of the Chapter justified. Precatory enthusiasm, not supernatural only, (whether divine, or diabolical,) but natural also. Praying used not by Christians only, but by Heathens also: by Christians sometimes, miss-led by a wrong zeal; whether natural, or supernatural. Natural enthusiasm, in praying: 1. By a vehement intention of the mind. 2. By powerful language; apt to work upon the Speakers, as well as Hearers. Dithyrambicall composition affected by Heathens in their prayers. Extemporary praying, no difficult thing. 3. By natural fervency; by the advantage whereof, some very wicked in their lives, heretics and others, have been noted to have excelled in that faculty. John Basilides Duke, or King of Moscovia: his Zeal at his Devotions: his Visions and Revelations; and incredible Cruelty. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits; strange things written of his zeal in praying: the same in substance, written of the ancient Brachmannes of India: both, with equal probability. The Messaliani, or Prayers, anciently so called: what their heresy or error was. Their earnest, intent, continued praying; raptures and Enthusiasms; visions and revelations: how all these might happen naturally, without any supernatural cause. Haron, a Mahometan Prince, a great Euchite or Prayer, in his kind, not to be paralleled. ¶ A consideration concerning faith; whether besides that which is truly religious and divine, there be not some kind of natural faith or confidence, which by a secret, but settled general providence, in things of the world, is very powerful and effectual. A notable saying of Heraclitus the Philosopher: Some Scriptures, and S. chrysostom, to that purpose. An objection made, and answered. Ardormentis, in S. Jerome, how to be understood. Best Christians liable to undiscreet Zeal. Nicol. Leonicus his Discourse, or Dialogue of the efficacy of Prayers. Antonius Benivenius, De abditis m. causis, etc. of what credit amongst Physicians. A strange relation out of him, of one incurably wounded, and almost desperate; who by ardent prayer was not only healed, but did also prophesy, both concerning himself, and divers other things. Some observations upon this relation.    

Errata.  
¶ Of the copy: (not to wrong them, whose extraordinary care and diligence in this kind deserveth great commendation:) Page 16. line 6. read κύμβαλα. p. 22. l. 14. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. p. 21. l. 2. Title, Divinatorie. p. 92. l. 3. probabatur. p. 162. l. 8. τὸν. p. 167. l. 17. impert. p. 170. l. 9 he be pl. p. 174. l. 9.10. proof enough, th'. p. 181. l. 4. and of the r. Ibid. l. 32. reader he might s. ¶ typographical: p. 18. l. 24. as one. p. 184. l. 1. please. Ibid. l. 2. even s. p. 200. l. 31. concurred for. [In most of the books these three last are amended.] p. 213. l. 24. Ecclesiastici. p. 220. l. 21. me by the w.   

CHAP. I. Of enthusiasm in general.  
The Contents.  
Varro's opinion, that heroic men should believe themselves, though falsely, to be descended of the Gods, etc. noted and rejected: in Alexander the Great his Case particularly. ¶ The consequence of this Knowledge or Disquisition. Politic pretensions to enthusiasm, or Divine Inspiration, very usual in all Ages: But mistaken, through ignorance of natural causes, (our only Subject and aim in this Treatise) as more frequent, so more dangerous. Enthusiastic times and tempers noted by ancient Authors. In those times the Eleusinia, Bacchanalia, and other Mysteries hatched. The abomination of those Mysteries, though pretending to great holiness and piety. Ancient Theologues and Poets, pretending to Divine Inspiration, the authors and abetters of Idolatry. Heresies among Christians through pretended inspirations. Mahometism. ¶ The word enthusiasm, what it implies properly. The division of enthusiasm according to Plato and Plutarch. Plutarch's Definition. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in Plutarch; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in Actuarius. A difficult passage out of The Physical Definitions, attributed to Galen, concerning enthusiasm, explained and amended. Our Definition (or description) and division of enthusiasm into nine several kinds, or Species. Theophrastus' his Treatise concerning enthusiasm, whether extant. Meursius' his conjecture about the Title rejected.  
IT was the opinion of Varro, that learned and voluminous Roman, (to whom whether S. Augustine were more beholding for that use he made of his writings, or he to S. Augustine for preserving so much of him, which otherwise would have been lost, I know not:) but his opinion, I say, recorded by S. Augustine in his third de Civ. Dei, ch. 4. That it was expedient for the public good, that gallant heroic men should believe themselves, though falsely, (ex Diis genitos) to be issued of the Gods, that upon that confidence they might attempt great matters with more courage; prosecute them with more fervency; and accomplish them more luckily: as deeming such confidence and security, though but upon imaginary grounds, a great advantage to good success. I will not inquire into the reasons of the opinion. There is enough to be said against it, I am sure, (the latter part of it especially, which commends security, as probable means to success;) from reason, if we will go by reason: and there is enough already said against it by best Authors, Historiographers especially, if we will go by authority. I think it very probable that Varro when he delivered it, had Alexander the Great in his mind, of whom indeed some such thing is written by some that have written of him; who impute no small portion of his great acts, to his fond belief concerning himself, that he was begotten by Jupiter. For that he was in very deed besotted through excess of self-love, and high conceit of his parts and performances, into that opinion; and that it was not mere policy, to beget himself the more authority and obedience from others; is most probable. And yet in this very case of Alexander the Great, both by examination of particulars, and by testimony of good Authors, it might be maintained against Varro, that it would have advantaged him more to the accomplishment of his purposes and designs, to have contented himself with the title of the Son and Successor of Philip, a mortal King, but of immortal memory for divers excellent and princely parts: then to have assumed that unto himself, by which, even among the vulgar, prone enough of themselves to adore a visible greatness, more than any invisible Deity, he got but little; but unto the better sort he made himself, to some, (who though they made no scruple to give him what titles himself desired, yet could not but scorn him in their hearts, whiles they now looked upon him rather as a juggler, or a mad man, 
See Quintus Curtius and others.  than a Prince,) ridiculous; and to others, (whose fidelity he most wanted, because the most generous of his Subjects) more grievous; whilst he compelled them against their wills and consciences to do that, which some chose rather to die, then to do: and that himself for this very occasion came to a violent untimely death, is the opinion of best Historians.  
But of this assertion of Varro, I will leave every man free to judge as they please. It came in my way casually, and I thought fit to take notice of it, because of the affinity; but it is no part of my business. That which I have here to show, and to maintain, is, that the opinion of divine Inspiration, which in all ages, and among all men of all professions, Heathens and Christians, hath been a very common opinion in the world; as it hath been common, so the occasion of so many evils and mischiefs among men, as no other error, or delusion of what kind soever, hath ever been of either more, or greater.  
By the opinion of divine Inspiration, I mean a real, though but imaginary, apprehension of it in the parties, upon some ground of nature; a real, not barely pretended, counterfeit, and simulatory, for politic ends. For that hath ever been one of the main crafts and mysteries of government, which the best of heathens sometimes (as well as the worst, more frequently,) the most commended Heroes, in ancient times, upon great attempts and designs, have been glad to use; as anciently, Minos, Theseus, Lycurgus, founders of commonweals, and others, for the public good; the nature of the common people being such, that neither force, nor reason, nor any other means, or considerations whatsoever, have that power with them to make them pliable and obedient, as holy pretensions and interests, though grounded (to more discerning eyes) upon very little probability.  
But here I meddle not with policy, but nature; nor with evil men so much, as the evil consequence of the ignorance of natural causes, which both good and evil are subject unto. My business therefore shall be, as by examples of all professions in all ages, to show how men have been very prone upon some grounds of nature, producing some extraordinary though not supernatural effects; really, not hypocritically, but yet falsely and erroneously, to deem themselves divinely inspired: so secondly to dig and dive (so fare as may be done with warrantable sobriety) into the deep and dark mysteries of nature, for some reasons, and probable confirmations of such natural operations, falsely deemed supernatural. Now what hath been the fruit of mistaken inspirations through ignorance of natural causes, what evil and mischiefs have ensued upon it, what corruptions, confusions, alterations in point of good manners and sound Knowledge, whether natural or revealed; although it will appear more particularly by several examples and instances upon several heads, to which we have allowed so many several chapters: yet I think it will not be amiss to say somewhat of it here beforehand in general, whereby the Reader may be the better satisfied, that this is no idle philosophical speculation, but of main consequence both to truth in highest points, and public welfare; besides the contentment of private satisfaction in a subject so remote from vulgar cognisance.  
It is observed by divers Ancients, but more largely insisted upon by Plutarch, than any other that I know, 
Plut. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. alibique.  that for divers Ages before Socrates, the natural temper of men was somewhat ecstatical: in their actions, most of them tumid and high; in their expressions, very Poetical and allegorical; 
Hence it is that ancient authors, as Aristotle, Strabo, and some others, affirm that poetry, in matter of writing and composition, was in use long before prose: which might seem strange, if not incredible, if we judge by the dispositions of later times; but of those times and tempers, not less probable, then certain.  in all things very apt to be led by fancy and external appearances; very devout in their kind, but rather superstitious: In most things that they did, more guided by certain sudden instincts and raptures, then by reason; not out of any contempt of it, but because they had it not. In those days there was no moral Philosophy: and they were accounted worthy of highest honours, that could utter most sentences that had somewhat of reason in them; which by other men were generally received as Oracles because they seemed to surpass the wisdom of ordinary men.  
There were as many Religions almost as men; for every man's religion was his fancy; and they had most credit and authority that could best invent, and make best show. Among so many religions, there were no controversies, but very good agreement and concord; because no reason used either to examine, or to disprove. There was no talk among men, but of dreams, revelations, and apparitions: and they that could so easily fancy God in whatsoever they did fancy, had no reason to mistrust or to question the relations of others, though never so strange, which were so agreeable to their humours and dispositions; and by which themselves were confirmed in their own supposed Enthusiasms. That was the condition of those days, (in Greece at least, and those parts,) as it is set out by ancient Historiographers, and others; until the days of Socrates, who for his innocent heroic life (commended and admired by Christians as well as by Heathens) and his unjust death, (to which he was chief condemned for speaking against the Idolatry of his times) might be thought in some measure (as amongst Heathens) to have born the Image of Christ: but certainly not without some mystery, and some preparation of men to Christianity, was so magnified by all men, for being the founder of moral Philosophy, and for bringing the use of Reason into request: by which he would have all things tried, nor any thing believed, or received upon any private account or authority, that should be against Reason.  
Λόγος was the word which he had so frequent in his mouth, and which he so much commended to his auditors and disciples: and λόγος, though in a far different sense I know, is the word by which Christ is styled in the Gospel. And as it is commonly observed, and true, that at the coming of Christ or thereabouts, all Oracles in all parts of the world began to cease; so may we say that even of this somewhat might be thought to be prefigured in Socrates, by whose doctrine, as it did increase in the world, (as we know it did in a little time very mightily,) so private inspirations and Enthusiasms began to be out of request, and men became, as more rational every where in their discourse, so more civil and sober in their conversations.  
Now those were the times and tempers, that did produce those horrid rites and mysteries, the Dionysiaca, Cybeliaca, Isiaca, Eleusiniaca, and the like: in the description whereof many ancient Fathers have been very exact and accurate; it being an argument that did afford matter enough to any man's wit or rhetoric; the senselessness on the one side, and the beastliness, wickedness in the other, of those things that were there performed and observed under the name of Religion, being beyond any exaggeration, nay, beyond any sober man's imagination. Had we not seen the like in these latter days upon the same ground of enthusiasms and divine revelations acted and revived, it cannot almost be expected that any man should have belief enough to credit such relations. I shall myself willingly forbear particulars, which no modest reader can read without some reluctancy. There is enough, and more then enough of that stuff, in those Authors I have already mentioned. But I had rather appeal to heathens themselves herein, for the truth of such things, of themselves so incredible, then to Christians; who might be thought partial. Seneca hath done pretty well upon this argument, in setting out the horror of these mysteries, in those fragments of his Contra superstitiones, preserved by S. Augustine in his books De Civ. Dei [l. 6. c. 10.] But Livy the Roman Historian, fare more particularly, in his twenty ninth Book; who although he speak only of the Dionysiaca, or Bacchanalia, as they were clancularly kept at Rome; yet what he writes of them, is for the most part generally true of all those hidden mysteries, well called Opertanea. They were not instituted all at one time, nor by one man: they differed in some certain rites and ceremonies: but in point of brutishness and licentiousness otherwise, so like, that though we distinguish the founders by names, yet we must needs acknowledge them all guided by one Spirit, styled in the Gospel an unclean Spirit: not as unclean by nature, which we know he is not; but as the author of all uncleanness among men; as an enemy, since his fall, both to God and man. Now that these mysteries were devised at first by men, who professed themselves, and were generally supposed by others, to be inspired, is most certain. Whether they themselves did really believe it, is not easy to determine. But by that time we have gone through what we purpose here upon this subject, of the several kinds and causes of Enthusiasms, we may speak of it perchance with more confidence, and not fear to offend any judicious Reader.  
The first institutor of mysteries among heathens, according to some, (but indeed rather propagator and improver, than first author) was one Orpheus, a mere fanatic, as in our Chapter of Corybantical enthusiasm shall be more fully declared: and Diog. Laertius judgeth of him rightly, that he did not deserve the name of a Philosopher, that had made the Gods (by his strange Fictions and relations of them) more vile than the vilest of men. Yet many others for his great antiquity, and because they were glad to entertain any traditions, upon which they might ground a divine worship, which must presuppose the being of a God, and immortality of the soul, both which might be proved by Orpheus; speak of him with great respect. Plato plainly of him, and some other ancient Theologues, that they were progenies Deorum, (as he is interpreted by Tully,) and that men were bound to believe them whatsoever they said, upon that score, without ask any further reason. A man would wonder that so wise a Philosopher as Plato, whose discourses otherwise, where he treateth of virtue and godliness, relish so much of sound reason, and have had such influence upon rational men in all ages; should ascribe so much to the authors of such abominable superstitions. But besides what hath already been said, that out of his good will to Religion, he was loath to question his authority, upon which, as divine, many of his days grounded their belief of a God, a judgement, and the like; and that himself nevertheless in some places, doth not stick to show his dislike of some main points of Orpheus his Divinity: after all this I must acknowledge, which no man that hath read him can deny, that Plato himself naturally, had much in him of an Enthusiast. His writings, I am sure, have really made many so, as we shall afterwards in due place declare.  
Now for Poets in general, it clearly appears by ancient authors, that unto the common people at least, if not unto the wiser, (though unto them too for the most part, by their own testimonies,) they were as it were their sacred Writ and records, from which they did derive their Divinity, and their belief concerning the Gods; as who, and how to be worshipped, how pleased and pacified, by what prayers and ceremonies; and whatsoever doth come within the compass of Religion. All which was upon this ground, that there could be no true Poet, but must be divinely inspired; and if divinely inspired, certainly to be believed. This we find even by Philosophers of best account in those days largely disputed and maintained. The two main arguments to induce them to that belief, were, That extraordinary motion of the mind, wherewith all good Poets in all ages have been possessed and agitated; and the testimony of Poets themselves, who did profess of themselves, that they were inspired, and made particular relations of strange Visions, Raptures, and apparitions to that purpose: as shall be showed in its proper place and chapter. So that as the beginning, growth and confirmation of Idolatry may be ascribed, as by many it is, unto Poets, and their authority; so to supposed Enthusiasms and Inspirations also, upon which that authority was chief grounded.  
I know that what is here delivered concerning those ancient Poets and Philosophers, of greatest antiquity, as of Orpheus particularly, is subject to much opposition, because of that respect, and Veneration almost, that both his name, and some fragments of his have found with many, whose names ought to be venerable unto all. I said, fragments; for as for those entire pieces that go under his name, his Hymns or Prayers, his Argonauts, his Treatise of the virtue of Stones, etc. as full of superstition and grossest idolatry as may be; it is generally agreed upon, that they are falsely ascribed unto him. I will not here take the advantage of Aristotle's opinion, as it is affirmed by Tully, that there never was any such man really as Orpheus: though it appear clearly by Plato, which would make a man the more suspicious, that there were many in his time who made great profit of that common error, that Orpheus and his mates, Linus and Museus, were descended of the Gods: whereof the poor ignorant multitude being throughly possessed, they were the more inclinable to purchase those pretended Orphical charms and expiations, by which the guilt of any sin might be taken away. For such they carried with them up and down the country, as things of that nature use to be carried: and so made a great prey of the people's credulity. But granting that such a man hath been (whether Poet or Theologue) it will concern me, that it may be known, that I am not the first, or only that have so judged of him. Let the Reader therefore if he please, 
Primi ergo inter Graecos superstitionum magistri illi, Theologi ab his dicti, Poetaeque, qui Deorum genealogias decantaverunt, mysteriaque & numinum cultum tradiderunt, sapientiae nomine celebrantur, cum high in nulla sapientiae parte operam posuisse sint dicendi: fucatè vero personateque illam quae politica dicitur, coluisse videantur, etc. Petrus Valentia in De judicio erga verum ex ipsis primis fontibus: Antuerpiae, 1596.  read in the note somewhat that may satisfy him that it is not so. I content myself with the judgement of one: but if the Reader can weigh that one with good judgement, he may think perchance the judgement of that one as considerable as the authority of many others.  
¶ Of detestable Sects and Heresies, upon this very ground of Divine Inspiration, by which Christianity hath been divided, defamed, impaired, and stopped in his course, Ecclesiastical Histories are full: they especially that have written of Heresies, as Epiphanius, Augustine, and the like, will afford examples of all kind. But that which is much to be wondered at and lamented, is, that some men, otherwise of great worth and ability, through mere ignorance of natural causes have been seduced by supposed raptures and Enthusiasms, and made shipwreck of the true faith, which before they professed. I dare say, and I hope it will not seem strange to them that shall well ponder what we have to say of natural raptures and visions, (where also Tertullian shall be mentioned again,) that Tertullian had never been an heretic, had he been a better Naturalist: and yet Tertullian such a man for life and learning otherwise, as can hardly be paralleled by any one of those times; in whom the Church had as great loss, and lamented it as much, (see but Vincentius Lyrinensis of him;) as almost it ever had in any one man.  
I never affected to be the Author of Paradoxes and strange tenants: this age, I know, gives liberty enough and encouragement to any that is so minded; when nothing almost is accounted true, but what is new, and in opposition to antiquity. However, as I do not affect Paradoxes; so would I not be afraid to say somewhat (if upon probable grounds) that perchance hath not yet been said, or thought upon: especially, when more Academico, that is, by way of proposal unto further consideration; not of peremptory affirmation, or determination. What progress mahometism hath made in the world, cannot be unknown to any that know any thing of the world, beyond the very place of their own birth and abode. Certain enough it is, that the best and greatest part of the world (America being laid aside) is now possessed by it. What the first occasion and beginning of it was, is not so certainly known perchance. We are commonly told that Mahomet did assume to himself divine authority by feigned enthusiasms. by false, we are sure enough, as to Divine Authority: but whether feigned, I make some question; and whether himself, and those about him, that helped to promote his frenzies, were not at first really beguiled themselves, before they began to seduce others. It shall be mentioned again, when we speak of raptures and ecstasies from natural causes, and bring examples, which will be in the Chapter of Contemplative or Philosophical enthusiasms.  
So much here in general, that the Reader may the better understand my aim, which is the first thing in every work to be considered of, and so may the better know what to expect, if he shall think it worth his pains to read unto the end; until which done, it is but reason that I should desire him to suspend his judgement. It may be thought a curious argument; which I cannot deny, and might well deserve greater abilities. Yet I myself thought it not so curious, as profitable, which made me to adventure upon it. And that our proceed may be the more clear and methodical, I shall begin with the consideration of the word itself, and in the multiplicity of different uses and acceptions, (as in most others) pitch upon one that may fit our purpose, and may be a good help also to keep us within our bounds, in case the affinity of the matter, or ambiguity of the word and title, should tempt us to digress, or lead us out unawares.  
Enthusiasm; In Greek (from whence we have the English) ἐνθυσιασμός. Now as τὸ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is that which is replenished with wind; and τὸ ἔμφρον, with wisdom: so, saith Plutarch, must ἐνθυσιασμός in the subject where it is, 
Plut. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  import a [full] participation and communion of Divine power. We must not expect from Philosophers, that they should be very exact Grammarians; for it will not hold in all words that are of that form. as for example, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; it implies an effect of the thunder indeed, but not a participation (at least not active, but passive) of the power: in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it is a mere relation; but in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I confess, and many others, it doth imply both participation and plenitude.  
But besides; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth not so properly answer to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 rather. But this is not a thing long to be stood upon. It will be more to our purpose to take notice of Plato's distinction of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 enthusiasm, (for in Plato's language they are all one, and he hath a long dispute about it, to prove that it must be so:) by the same Plutarch mentioned in the same place. It is in Plato's Dialogue which is called Phadrus, where he doth constitute four species of Enthusiasms: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (as himself doth afterwards in the same Dialogue briefly rehearse them,) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Plato's words are so obscure, that it would take us much time to make him intelligible: which I doubt to most that will read this, will neither be pleasing nor profitable. If any studious of Plato, shall desire private satisfaction, I shall hope that it may be given to their own good liking. I shall therefore spare that labour, and content myself with Plutarch's division; which, although he mention Plato, yet I am sure is not the same, neither for the number, nor definition of particulars. I will therefore take it as from Plutarch, rather than from Plato, whom he quotes. According to Plutarch then, there be five kinds of Enthusiasms: Divinatory, Bacchical, (or Corybantical,) Poetical, (under which he comprehends Musical also,) Martial, and Eroticall, or amatory. All these, besides that kind of enthusiasm which proceeds from distemper of body, which both by Plato and Plutarch is particularly mentioned and excluded. Plutarch gives us no other definition of enthusiasm in general, but this, That it is a participation of an extrinsical and divine power: which is very light and superficial. He saith all those kinds have one common name, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. which whether so generally true, (except I myself mistake him, which I think I do not,) I doubt. For I find that some Greek Physicians challenge unto themselves that expression, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (except we could make a difference of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,) as proper to themselves: and they make it a disease of the body, which we said before was excluded by Plutarch, and no such thing as Plutarch would have; but merely imaginary, through the distemper of the fancy. Actuarius (not very ancient I confess) makes it a kind of melancholy, which gins in imaginary Enthusiasms; but commonly ends, he saith, in real madness. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. as I find him set out by Hen. Stephen.  
But here I must crave, though it will not much conduce to that we mainly drive at, the benefit of all indifferently, that I may for Physicians sakes, being bound to honour the profession for the benefit I have received thereby, insist a while upon that definition of enthusiasm which I find in those 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Collection of Medicinal Definitions, which hath been received among many for Galens, but disclaimed by the greater part to be his; however by some ascribed to a much more ancient Author. His words, whoever he be, be these: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. So are the words set out by Hen. Stephen in his collections of physical words and Definitions. In my edition of those definitions, which is the Basil edition in 8ᵒ. 1537. instead of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it is printed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: which is all the difference. Most it seems have stumbled at this word. For though I find the place quoted by more than one Physician; yet not in any have I found the word rendered, but fairly passed over. Which is not much to be wondered at in them that make no profession of extraordinary knowledge of the Tongues; when Hen. Stephen himself, to whose learned and Herculean labours the Greek tongue hath been so much beholding, he also doth pass it over in his translation of the words; which is this: Enthusiasmus, est velut cum quidam de statu mentis dejiciuntur in Sacris, si quid intueantur: aut si tympanorum, aut tibiarum sonum, aut signa quaedam auribus percipiant.  
Of the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, by itself, what it signifieth; as particularly, and most properly to burn, or offer incense, or more generally to smoke, etc. there is no question to be made: but what it should do here in matter of divination or enthusiasm is all the question. But for the first, it will easily be resolved: For Eustathius (not to mention others) upon the last of Homer's Iliads, doth plainly resolve us, that there was a kind of divination, very frequent amongst the ancients, by burning or offering up of incense: and he hath the very word here in question. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith he) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But neither in him nor any other do I find the particulars of this divination, as it was used in those ancient times: only that the same were also called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Dio Cassius, an ancient grave Historian, once a Consul himself, of great command and authority, in his 41 Book, in the description of Apollonia a city of Macedonia, describes the Oracle, or manner of divination then used in the Nymphaeum of it. The manner of it was, to observe the time of the casting of the incense into the fire, and to accompany it with earnest prayers and supplications, or vows: and in case it took fire well, the request, (if it were a matter of request) or question was resolved in the affirmative, that it should come to pass: If on the contrary, it neither would take fire of itself, nor endure it, but start back when it was cast into it; (as they writ, it would,) it was a certain token that the matter was not feasable. It was open to all manner of questions (saith Dio;) but of death only, and of marriage, it was not to be consulted. Here is no enthusiasm at all in this. But that there were divers kinds of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or incense-divination, is sure enough: and the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the definition we are upon, is a clear indication, that this here spoken of was attended, if not altogether achieved, with strange sights and visions, which for the time did alienate the mind of the beholder. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, are proper words to that purpose, as by Macrobius and divers others may appear. As for the following words in the definition, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. as no man I think will make any question but that the furor Corybanticus, or Bacchical Enthusiasms are thereby intended: so upon some further consideration I think it will be granted, that instead of Cυμβόλων (as I find it every where printed) it should be read κυμβόλων cymbals; those three words, ἀυλὸι, τύμπανα, κύμβαλοι, being often joined together not upon this occasion only: but upon this occasion, and this particular subject of Corybantical Enthusiasms, no word being more frequent or proper in ancient Authors, Poets, and others, than this very word cymbalum. Apuleius speaking of these barbara sacra, saith that they most consisted of Cymbalistis, Tympanistis, and Choraulis: (De Deo Socratis, p. 49.) where we have them all three; and the Cymbals in the first place. Ovid calleth them tinnula aera Metam. lib. 4. 
Tympana cum subito non apparentia raucis  
Obstrepnere sonis; & adunco tibia cornu,  
Tinnulaque aera sonant.—  Where we have them all, in the same order as we find them in the Definitions; tympana, tibia, and tinnula aera or cymbala. That the Heathens otherways in their mysteries had their symbola properly so called, and how much they adscribed unto them, we know well enough: divers have written of them; but not any thing that I know of, that can be pertinent to this place. Of musical enthusiasm in general we shall treat in its proper place, and there again give some further light perchance to these words. So much shall serve concerning this definition, whoever be the author of it: whose purpose only was certainly to define enthusiasm, not in its full latitude, but as incidental to corporal diseases, or a disease itself, as it falls out some times: as will appear, when we treat of musical Enthusiasms.  
I would not be too long upon this general Protheoria, by heaping multitude of places out of ancient Authors, to show the use of the word; which places, many of them at least, I shall afterwards have occasion to produce under their proper heads, to which I purposely reserve them. To hasten therefore to some conclusion. Upon this foundation of Plato, and Plutarch's observations, and that use of the word enthusiasm, very frequent in ancient Authors, I shall thus briefly and plainly endeavour to state this business. Enthusiasm, say I, is either natural, or supernatural. By supernatural, I understand a true and real possession of some extrinsical superior power, whether divine, or diabolical, producing effects and operations altogether supernatural: as some kind of divination, (what I mean, will appear under its proper head,) speaking of strange languages, temporary learning, and the like. By natural enthusiasm, I understand and extraordinary, transcendent, but natural fervency, or pregnancy of the soul, spirits, or brain, producing strange effects, apt to be mistaken for supernatural. I call it a fervency; First, because it is the very word (ardour) whereby Latin Authors do very frequently express the Greek enthusiasm. Secondly, because when we come to consider of the natural causes of enthusiasm, we shall find that it is indeed (in divers kinds of it) a very ardour, and nothing else, whereof all men are naturally capable; but whether to be ascribed to a mixture of the elements, and first qualities, in the composition of man, or to some more hidden and remote cause, shall be disputed. Of natural enthusiasm, (having nothing here to do with supernatural, but casually for distinction sake, or when the case is doubtful and disputable,) I shall constitute and consider these several kinds. First, Contemplative and philosophical: which as I conceive most natural unto man; so because of the strange effects, of most consequence to be known. It may seem of a different nature from other kinds, & therefore not put into the number, neither by Plato, nor by Plutarch. But we shall find it otherways, when we treat of the causes of it; and if there be any difference, it shall be showed. A second species shall be rhetorical: A third, poetical enthusiasm. Of that which Plato calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Plutarch 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, we shall make two species, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is in Plato's description,) that is Precatorie, or Supplicatory; and Musical, as we use the word in ordinary English, for mere Melody, whether of Voice or Instruments. Martial enthusiasm shall be my sixth species. Erotical, or amatory the seventh. Where I would not be mistaken, as though I intended a discourse, (though proper enough to the subject,) or disquisition concerning the nature of Love, as the word is commonly used and understood. Divers have done it; I shall content myself with what hath been done by others, Ancients especially: I shall find enough besides to make up a chapter, which may be more fit for me to inquire into. Mechanical enthusiasm shall be my eighth and last species. Though neither Plato nor Plutarch mention any such, yet others do expressly; and there is ground enough in the nature of the thing, to give it a particular head and consideration. Among all these species, I have not as yet spoken of Divinatory enthusiasm, †s one†: neither is it altogether the same case. For all the rest, though somewhat divine or diabolical may interpose in particular cases, to make a mixed business, as before intimated; yet generally that they are reducible to nature, there is no question to be made. but of Divinatory enthusiasm some question may be, whether there be any such merely natural.  
Yet because some have taken upon them to show some natural causes of all such Divination as hath been heretofore in use among ancient Heathens, I did think fit to take it into consideration, though I doubt when I have said all that I can, I shall leave the case very doubtful; and though myself may be inclinable to some opinion, yet shall think it fittest and safest to avoid peremptory Determination. Of Religious enthusiasm, truly and really religious, nothing will be found here; nor any thing, I hope, expected by them that consider my Title, and can make a difference betwixt natural, and supernatural; which I shall endeavour as much as I can not to confound.  
This is my Division; and according to my division, the Order that I propose to myself. But that I shall go through all these kinds, at this time especially, is more than I can promise myself. Through all that have any relation unto speech (the greater part,) I shall endeavour, God willing: which if I can compass, I have my chiefest end, as the Reader may understand by that account I give him in my Epistle. Though indeed I think I need not go so far for that, since that (as I take it) I may well reduce to Contemplative enthusiasm all that I have to say to that book, that was the chief occasion of this undertaking. However the work will be the more complete, if I can take all those species together, that have a common relation.  
I thought I had done: but there is somewhat yet I must give an account of in this general view. Any either ancient or later, which hath written of this argument purposely and by itself, I faithfully profess that I know none but one; and he indeed a principal man, Aristotle's fellow-disciple, and not unworthy of that society; even Theophrastus the Philosopher. That he did write a Treatise 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it is sure enough: it is mentioned by divers Ancients, and some passages out of it are in Athenaeus and Apollonius. But whether the book at this day be extant, is not in my power, the more is my grief, to give a certain account. When I did read him quoted by Scaliger against Cardan, Exercit. 348. without mention of any other author (Theophrastus, in libro 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it a demum evenire dicit, etc.) to whom beholding for his quotation, I thought it probable that he might have it out of some library in Manuscript, as there be many such books of Ancients, as yet not published, only so to be found. But when I considered what a diligent ransacker of all such books Meursius had been, and that in his Catalogue of Theophrastus his works, collected out of divers Authors, he made no mention of it as yet extant any where; it made me doubtful. Neither can I yet say that I am out of all doubt, or hope. However upon further search, finding that what Scaliger doth there allege as out of Theophrastus, is no other than what is produced by Athenaeus; I thought it more probable that Scaliger also had it out of Athenaeus. If any body can give me a further account of it, I shall think myself much beholding to him. But whereas Meursius in his notes upon Apollonius would correct in Apollonius, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as it is printed; I think it not needful. It is very likely that Theophrastus did inscribe his book 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the singular, as it is cited by some Ancients; and as likely, that Apollonius or any other might quote it in the plural, because of the different kinds of enthusiasm, of which Theophrastus, in all probability, had treated under that Title: as many, I believe, and more too perchance, than these we have proposed here.   

CHAP. II. Of Divine enthusiasm.  
The Contents.  
All true Divination most properly from God. Opinions of Heathens about the causes of Divination. Plutarch corrected. Divination in a more general sense. Some kinds of it merely natural, or physical. Our question here of enthusiastic Divination, particularly, whether any such from Natural Causes. But first of all, whether any such among Heathens anciently, truly and really. The grounds of the contrary opinion discovered and refuted. Pythones, or Pythonici, in the Scriptures and ancient Histories. Pomponatius and Tho. Leonicus noted. The Question rightly stated. First of all, a concurrence of natural causes in some cases generally granted. Some Enthusiasts not only foretell things future, but also speak strange Languages, through mere natural distemper, according to the opinion of some Physicians. But the contrary more probable, and why. That some things of like nature, (in some respects,) as enthusiastic Divination, and not less to be wondered at, are certainly known to proceed from causes that are natural, though unknown unto men: and some things also, though from causes that are known, not less wonderful in their nature. Instances in both kinds. The power of smelling in Dogs. An Example out of an Author of good credit, of a man, who being blind, was a guide unto many that had eyes, by his smell only, through vast Deserts. The power and nature of the memory in man, how incomprehensible, and how much admired by both Divines and Philosophers. The invention of conveying secret thoughts at any distance, whether of place or of time, by writing, how admirable a thing. Their opinion that fetch Divination from the nature of the Intellectus agens, in every man. The opinion of Aristotle in his Problems, (some question about the Author;) of the effects of atra bilis or melancholy, a probable ground of some natural divination. But after some general grounds and propositions, the continual 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or emanations of bodies, according to Aristotle and others, and the parturitions of causes, (or foregoing natural signs of strange events and alterations,) discernible to some tempers, as also the concatenation of natural Causes, according to the Stoics, a more probable ground. The Divination of dying men. A notable observation of Aretaeus, an ancient Greek Physician, to this purpose. Enthusiasm by vast prospects, and other natural objects.  
IT is acknowledged, as well by Heathens as by Christians, that absolutely & infallibly to foretell things future, doth belong unto Him only, to whom all things passed, present and future are equally present. Men therefore, as many as have taken upon themselves, or have been believed to prophecy (a word used as ordinarily by Heathen as by Christian Authors,) or to foretell, they have been generally deemed and termed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the like: all which signify men inspired by God. And although 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (enthusiasm) be used to many purposes, as will appear throughout this whole Discourse; yet it is most properly used to imply Divination, such as is by inspiration. And because such Divination among Heathens was not usually without a temporary alienation of the mind, and distraction of the senses; hence it is that both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Greek, and Vaticinari in Latin, is taken sometimes for deliration and idle speaking.  
Of the causes of Divination many Ancients have written very largely and variously. All make 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or divine inspiration, to be the chief and principal. tully's first Book De Divinatione is altogether of that Subject. But that is not my business here. Nevertheless, for their sakes that love and read Greek books, (which in very deed, if any, after the Sacred, are best able to make a man wise and learned,) I will produce a place of Plutarch to this purpose: not only because it containeth much in few words; but also because in all editions of Plutarch which I have seen; as that of H. Stephen in 6 vol. in 8ᵒ. which I account the best, and that of Paris, in Greek and Latin, of later years; it is corruptly exhibited, and marvellously both by the French and Latin interpreters mistaken, who hardly make sense of those which they have, and leave out part of Plutarch's words and sense. 
Plutarch. de placit. Phillip l. 5. c.  Plato (saith Plutarch) and the Stoics bring in (or assert) Divination either as from God, immediately, ordinarily called 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  enthusiastic; or from the Divinity (or divine nature) of the Soul, which Plato calleth 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  ecthusiastick; or by dreams. I will forbear to say more of it.  
Of Divination in general (that is, as the word, though not so properly, is often taken, for any foretelling of things future,) that there be many kinds which are merely natural and physical, some usual and ordinary, some more rare, and remote from vulgar knowledge, some proceeding from hidden, though natural causes, and grounded upon experience only, others known (to the learned at least) by their causes, as well as by experience; they that have written De Divinatione, as Cicero anciently, Peucérus lately, (besides divers others,) will afford store of examples and arguments, if any desire further satisfaction in that point. That which doth here lie upon me to inquire into is, whether any kind of enthusiastical Divination, properly called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and by Tully, furor, either now known, or formerly practised, may be accounted natural. Of such kind of Divination there were among ancient Heathens many sorts, cum furore and alienation of mind, all; (such as I intent here at least;) but in other circumstances, as in the carriage of the party possessed, in the manner of the utterance, in the Place, Rites, and Ceremonies belonging to it, very different.  
But here I must stop a while, to remove an Objection. For what if all these pretended enthusiastical Divinations, by Oracles, or otherways, were but mere Gulleries and Impostures to get money; (as is daily practised to this day, though not in the same kind, in all parts of the world,) & to amaze credulous and superstitious people? Or at the best, the subtle devices and artifices of wellmeaning Politicians, to compass great matters for the good of the people, (as must always be presupposed,) and their own good content? That this hath been the opinion of some Ancients, (even Heathens) and is at this day of many learned Christians, it cannot be denied. But upon some further enquiry into the business, I hope I shall be allowed to deliver mine own opinion without offence; which is this: I take it to be a very partial, or very illiterate account or come off, in a matter (as to the cause) of such both consequence, and obscurity. First, I call it a partial account. Amongst Heathens there were divers Sects, for which there was as much strife and emulation, as is now amongst Christians of different opinions. The two grand Sects, were of those that maintained the being of a God, (whether one or more,) and his Providence over the world, on the one side; on the other, those that either absolutely denied the very being of any Deity, (which few durst;) or granting that there is a God, yet denied his Providence, or that he intermeddled in humane affairs. Now it was taken for granted on all parts that, si Divinatio sit, Dii sunt; if any true (enthusiastical) Divination, than Gods also: if no Gods, no Divination. It is Tully's word, that ista reciprocantur; that they are termini convertibiles, as we say commonly. What ground there is in nature itself for this supposed reciprocation, would be an unnecessary digression: my matter will not oblige me to warrant it true: it is enough for me, if it be granted, as I know it must, by them that have read the writings of ancient Heathens of either side, that it was so generally believed. Now as men that are once engaged both in inward affection, and in outward profession (which commonly go together) unto a party, are very apt to credit any thing for truth that makes for them; and on the contrary; nay some though they themselves know it to be otherways, yet will do what they can, that what is advantageous for their side may be believed by others; such is the wretchedness of most men, where their affections, or interests are once engaged: so doth it manifestly appear to have happened in this particular business. If therefore Lucian, a professed Atheist or Epicure, who employed what he had of wit and eloquence in deriding all manner of Religions, scoff and jeer at all miraculous relations, which he hath made the subject of one of his Dialogues, entitled Philopseudes; if he will not admit of any Divination, or Oracles, as proceeding from any kind of enthusiasm; it is not much to be wondered at. If others besides Lucian and such professed Epicures have done the like in ancient times, somewhat might be said to them too; but that we will not be too long upon it. As for late Authors, I would rather blame their negligence in this point, then suspect their partiality. Certainly, except all ancient Authors both Greek and Latin did conspire together to make themselves a scorn to their own time, by writing such things as generally known and received, which nevertheless were but either their own fancies, or the slights of some cunning merchants; and to make a scorn of after times, who upon the warrant of such witnesses, accounted grave and sober, might easily be induced to believe such things, though strange enough otherways, when it should be too late to disprove them by any visible search and trial: except, I say, they did of purpose so conspire, so many Authors, of so many different ages, and different countries, Poets, Philosophers, Historians, and others; it must needs be, that such Enthusiasms were very frequent in ancient times. Neither was it a jesting matter to some of them, that did offer themselves, or were chosen by others to that ministry, according to the several rites, ceremonies, and conditions of several places. Lucan perchance, as a Poet, may be thought to deliver it more generally, then truly, when he saith; 
— Siqua Deus sub pectora venit;  
Numinis aut poena est mors immatura recepti,  
Aut pretium: quip stimulo fluctuque furoris  
Compages humana labat: pulsusque Deorum  
Concutiunt fragiles animos.—  Lucan. lib. 5.  
He seems to make it a general case, as though all so inspired (in that particular place at least,) did die soon after. But in his time that Oracle was almost expired; and therefore he might the easier mistake, because so little used. That some died in the fit, or presently after, is not to be doubted; and Plutarch in his book De Def. Oraculorum writeth very particularly of one of his time that did so. But that which is more strange is, that gravest authors of those times stick not to ascribe a great part of that worldly greatness and prosperity, unto which the affairs of Greece did once arrive, when several commonwealths among them, some together, some successively, as that of the Athenians, the Lacedæmonians, and the like, did flourish; to the Oracles, and other kind of divinations of those times. So Plato in his Phaedrus, where he disputes that divine madness is to be preferred before humane sobriety and wisdom: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Plutarch, though upon another occasion, hath the same observation, of the many benefits that did accrue to the Grecians by the Oracle at Delphos. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, &c. Whence it is that even Socrates, the author of the rational sect of Philosophers, because he would have all things as well in matter of belief as practise brought to the trial of reason; yet even he did allow of the use of Oracles, nay commend it, and thought it necessary 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. and judged them no less than mad, or strangely besotted, that maintained the contrary. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: as is recorded by one of his disciples, 
* Xenoph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. lib. 1.  Xenophon, a famous both Philosopher and Historian. And I pray what were the Pythones, or Pythonici, so called because of the supposed spirit of Divination in them, but Enthusiasts; but that the fit or faculty, because more habitual, was not so strong and visible? They were for the most part of the meanest sort of men, women often, neither so experienced in the world, or so perfected by study, as that any could suspect them to deal cunningly.  
Such a one we read of Acts 16.16. and such a one is Alexander said by some to have had with him in his expedition for the conquest of the East; as is recorded by Arrianus: and such another Marius, in his expeditions against the Cimbri, so terrible unto the Romans: Syrian women both. Martha was her name whom Plutarch speaks of.  
Yet for all this, and what else might be added to the same purpose, (if it concerned us, and our purpose here to be long upon it,) it is fare from me to deny or to doubt, that in the carriage of these things, in all places there was much cunning and juggling, much error and deceit; and perchance some particular places and Oracles, where all that outwardly had a show of enthusiasm, was nothing but Art and Imposture. But that all was therefore, is as good as to say, that there is no truth in the world, because nothing in the world that is not liable to the imposture of men.  
But now to the proper business of this chapter; Whether any enthusiastical Divination might be accounted merely natural, or whether altogether either divine or diabolical; that is it we are now to consider of. I shall not here refer my Reader to such as either Pomponatius, or Leonicus: the first whereof doth not allow of any miracles at all as supernatural but takes upon him (blasphemously) to give natural reasons for all, even for those that were done by Christ; the other, if not in all points of Pomponatius his faith, yet in this of Divination and some others, a mere Peripatetic, without any mixture of Christianity. I have nothing to do with such; and I think their grounds, for the most part, as contrary to sense and reason, as they are to faith. I would not be so mistaken. Here is no question made of enthusiastic Divination, either divine or diabolical: but whether any such, as may be thought to proceed from natural causes. Again, by enthusiastic Divination we do not here understand a pretended, imaginary, though not hypocritical divination, which hath nothing of truth or reality in it, (except by some chance, among many false sometimes,) saving the boldness of the parties who are deluded. That such confidence and delusion is incidental to some kind of distempers of the brains, is certainly known; and we shall meet with some examples, where we shall have occasion to treat of such distempers. We intent such Enthusiastical Divination, as by several Events, and by due observation of all Circumstances, hath been observed to be true. It is a very obscure point that we are upon, and therefore the Reader must not wonder if I lead him about before I come to any determination. If we had to do with them that are Scholars only, we should be shorter.  
First then we shall observe a concurrence of Natural Causes. This is granted by all Physicians and naturalists. Melancholici, maniaci, ecstatici, phrenetici, epileptici, hystericae mulieres: All these be diseases naturally incidental to all both men and women; the last only proper to women. as naturally incidental all, so curable by natural means and remedies. No body doubts of that. To all these natural diseases and distempers, enthusiastic divinatory fits are incidental. I do not say that it doth happen very often: that is not material, whether often or seldom. but when it doth happen, as the disease is cured by natural means, so the Enthusiasms go away, I will not say by the same means, but at the same time. That is certain by frequent experience, and by the acknowledgement of best Physicians, Sennertus, Peucerus, and divers others whom I could name. Those men and women, which, when they were sick of those diseases, did foretell divers things which came to pass accordingly, and some of them (which I think more wonderful, as more remote from natural causes,) had spoken some Latin, some Greek, some Hebrew, or any other language, whereof before they had no use, nor skill; when once cured of these Diseases, they return to their former simplicity and ignorance. 
Leu. Lemn. de occul. nat. mir. l. 2. c. 2.  this is granted by all. Whereupon some, as Levinus Lemnius particularly, do peremptorily conclude that no other cause of such accidents is to be sought, but natural. Quos ego pronuncio, saith he, non à malo infestoque Genio divexari, nec Daemonis instinctu impulsuve, sed vi morbi, humorumque ferocia, etc.  
And he doth endeavour to give some reason from the nature of the Soul, etc. how such a thing might happen naturally. But his reasons are no ways satisfactory. And that these extraordinary operations do rather proceed from the Devil, to me is a great argument, (besides other reasons,) because the very selfsame things are known to happen to divers that are immediately possessed, without any bodily distemper, other than the very possession, which must needs affect the body more or less. Besides what hath been observed out of ancient Fathers, as S. Jerome and others; 
Lucian. Philops. Ald. ed. p. 318. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. An id potius vult Lucianus, pro daemoniaci cujusque loco patriave, ita daemonem vel Graece, vel alia quavis linguâ, quae propria fit illius loci, respendere?  Lucian hath a relation to that purpose in his Philopseudes, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which although (as all other things of that nature as is before observed,) he seem to reject as a Fable yet by many probable circumstances might be commended, if not concluded, an History: though not with all those circumstances perchance, wherewith, the better to serve his purpose, he doth endeavour to make it as ridiculous and improbable as he can.  
But to pass by divers relations of later times, upon the credit (some of them at least) of very creditable Authors and witnesses; I shall content myself with the testimony of one, a man of exquisite learning, and a curious sister of the truth in doubtful points; and a man of that integrity, that having got great credit in the world for his skill (among other things) in Judicial Astrology, being convicted in his Conscience, as himself relateth, that it was but men cozenage and Imposture, he made no scruple to make open recantation, and wrote against it very learnedly. Georgius Raguseius is the man: whose words in his second book De Divinatione, Epist. 11. De Oraculis, are; Novi ego Venetiis pauperem quandam mulierem, etc. that is, I have known at Venice a certain poor woman, which we possessed: sometimes she would be stupid and sottish; sometimes she did speak with divers tongues, and discourse of things belonging to the mathematics, and Philosophy, yea and to Divinity. I do not write here what I have heard from others, but myself have disputed with her more than once. Thus he.  
However, though we do not ascribe such wonderful effects to nature; yet it is somewhat, that best Physicians acknowledge such a preparation and disposition of the body, through distemper of humours, which giveth great advantage to the Devil to work upon; which distemper being cured by physical drugs and potions, the Devil is driven away, and hath no more power over the same bodies. Neither do I think Divination, in some kind at least, (as by and by shall be showed) so supernatural an operation, as the speaking of Languages, (without any teaching,) and use of Sciences is. If a man examine all those ways of enthusiastic Divination that have been heretofore in use, which were not a few in number, and in many circumstances very different; he may observe in some of the chiefest, a manifest concurrence of some natural causes preparing or disposing the bodies for such impressions and operations; if no more. I would insist in some particulars, but that I would not be too long upon this point, as of least consideration to our main scope and argument. The Reader (if a Scholar, and acquainted with books,) may satisfy himself if he please, reading but jamblichus De mysteriis Egypt. where he describes (in one of those chapters) very particularly the manner of three Oracles, the Colophonian, Delphic, and Branchidicum. Jamblichus himself, I know, is much against it, that any natural thing should be conceived as a partial or concurrent cause. but the understanding Reader may make his own observations upon divers particulars nevertheless. However, our disquisition is not of Oracles in particular, wherein I should easily grant other causes then natural; but of enthusiastic Divination, of what kind soever, in general; whether any such, etc. Well, so much we have got by this first observation, that natural causes may contribute very much towards it, if not wholly sufficient to produce this effect.  
Secondly, because the question is not (so properly) whether any manifest, or very probable natural cause can be showed; but whether it be against all reason, whether manifest or probable, to believe that some kind of enthusiastic Divination may proceed from causes that are natural, though it be beyond the reach of man to find them, as in many other things whereof no question is; this, I say, being the true state of the Question, before we come to the consideration of particular reasons and causes, I think it necessary for their sakes that are not used to the speculation of Nature and her secrets, to insist a while upon some such things as are certainly known (though from causes to most men unknown and incomprehensible,) to be natural: and some such things also which in themselves, if well considered, deserve no less admiration, though the causes be not unknown. This will be a very good way, as I conceive, to prepare men not versed in such speculations, not to cast off presently for ridiculous or impossible, all things the reason whereof they cannot understand.  
I will not take the advantage of nature's amplitude in this kind, as full of wonders, as it is of objects, if rationally and philosophically looked upon. It is sure enough, that there is not any one of nature's works, how mean soever and ordinary to vulgar sight and eyes, but may afford somewhat in the cause whereof the reason of the most rational and understanding may be posed. I will confine myself to such things, generally known, and such as may have some reference to our present occasion. That which I shall first propose to be considered is, that quickness and exactness of some senses in some dumb creatures, so far exceeding that proportion wherewith nature hath endowed Man. As for example; Who knows not that Hounds and Dogs excel in smell beyond all comparison? Hunters, they that have written of it, as some Ancients, and they that practice it daily, tell of strange things in that kind; but who doth not daily observe it in every ordinary cur? Who knows not, that by their bare smell they can discern their Master among thousands, (an argument of their exactness in dijudicating of different smells, among so many of one kind,) and how they will trace their steps throughout a whole Country, and find their own way home at a vast distance, by the same faculty? Naturalists tell us, that the reason of their excellency in that sense is, because the nervus odoris is very great: greater (they say) in a Dog, than it is in an Ox. Whether that be it or no, I shall not here dispute. But suppose that a man, (as many things happen to men naturally, contrary to the common course of nature,) suppose, I say, that a man, unknown to others, should be born to such a perfection of sense; might not he, by the advantage of reason to boot, do strange things, think we, to the admiration of all men that should not know the cause? As for example, disclose Secrets, which no man would think possible, except he were a Witch; to tell who came to his house, though he saw them not, and from whence; and in a good measure, what should be done in it, by day or by night, though he stirred not from one place? All this, and many such things, by the advantage of that one sense heightened to that perfection, joined with humane ratiocination and wit, he might do; for which I believe be would be no less admired, (and even in that kind he might do much too, by the said advantage,) then if he did foretell many things future. But this is but a supposition: It is true: but such a supposition, as shows a possibility in nature, of things that would generally be deemed supernatural. And there be some examples of men that have excelled, if not in this one, yet in some other sense, far beyond the ordinary proportion of men. 
Jo. Leo Afric. Descr. Afr. lib. 6. p. 246.  Joannes Leo of Africa, a man for his fidelity, amongst the learned in the Eastern Languages and Histories of very good esteem, hath a strange relation, of a blind man that was a guide to certain Merchants travelling through the Deserts of Arabia. The man road upon a Camel, and led his company, not by his Eyes, which he had not; but by his Smell, which was so exquisite, that having been acquainted with those ways before, he could find by the sent of the very earth, nay, of the sand, (which was reached unto him at every mile,) where he was, and would describe the places unto them as they went along: yea, told them long before (which proved true, though not believed then,) when they drew near to inhabited places.  
But we will consider something more common, and more generally known in man. Wherein if we look upon the Body, or the Soul, but especially upon some Faculties of the Soul, and their several functions in the body, we have matter of admiration enough. It is well known, how Galen in the consideration of these things was often posed in the cause, and doth ingenuously acknowledge his ignorance. Fernelius, who was accounted the Galen of his time, hath collected many passages out of him to that purpose; and is so far from pretending to give us light himself in those things where Galen wanted eyes, that he makes it his task, to show us only that they are things to men incomprehensible. I will insist upon somewhat that may be thought to have some affinity with possession and enthusiasm. And what more to be wondered at in this kind, than the power of the fancy, which is able to carry a man out of his bed in his sleep; to make him walk up and down; to lead him over bridges; and to set his hands at work sometimes (all this in his dead sleep) to the accomplishment of such things, as no man otherways would have thought could have been done without the use of open eyes, and perfect reason? Examples of this distemper of body (for it is but a distemper of body,) there be so many and so strange, both in the writings of Physicians, and other Histories, besides what daily experience doth afford, that I shall willingly spare them here.  
I will insist upon another thing, of itself more wonderful by far, though commonly less wondered at, (as the fashion is amongst the vulgar of men,) because more ordinary. and that is, the power of Memory in man. I know no man that hath done upon that subject better than S. Augustine in his Confessions. he hath bestowed several chapters upon it, not to find out the natural cause, which he professeth to be far above his reach; but to set out (which he doth very pithily and copiously) to the view and consideration of other men the wonderful effects of it. Magna ista vis est Memoriae, magna nimis, 
Aug. Confess. lib. 10. c. 8. etc.  Deus meus, penetrale amplum, etc. c. 8. Et hoc quis tandem indagabit? Quis comprehendat quomodo sit? Ego certe, Domine, laboro hic, & laboro in meipso; factus sum mihi terra difficultatis; etc. ch. 16. and again ch. 17. Magna ista vis est memoriae. Nescio quid horrendum, Deus meus, profunda & infinita multiplicitas, etc. Aboali (to whom Julius Scaliger gives this testimony, 
Exercit. contra Card. 307.28.  that he is omnium philosophorum acutissimus atque cordatissimus, that is, the wisest and acutest of all Philosophers,) after he had turned himself all the ways that he could to make somewhat of it, that might sound of natural reason, was at last, by the many inextricable difficulties that he met with, driven to this, to make a God or a Daemon of it. For he doth plainly deny that there is any such thing in the natural constitution of man, as Memory; but that it is resident in an extrinsical intelligentia; and that what we call Memory, is nothing but a natural power of the intellectus to reflect upon that intelligentia, and to dispose itself for the influence of it. Scaliger having spoken of this Philosopher and his opinion with great respect, as though he intended to maintain it against all gainsayers, is content at the last, for Aristotle's sake, to bring many arguments against it; which was not very hard thing to do: But as for those difficulties and perplexities, by himself acknowledged, that drove that optimum virum, as he calls him, into this opinion, I do not find that he takes away any, or so much as goes about it.  
I shall insist but upon one thing more, which is of another nature indeed, because the cause of it is not hidden, but known unto all men: but yet such a thing in my judgement, as deserveth no less admiration, and hath as much affinity in its effects with enthusiastic Divination as any thing that bath been spoken of. There was a time, it is well known, when none of those things that we call letters, which children are taught when first sent to school, were known or heard of. It is so yet, I believe, in some parts of the world: but in all parts time was when no such thing was known. If no letters, than no reading, no writing. This might very well be, when men in other things were wise and rational enough; and perchance had some inventions of good use, which we have not. But I would have any man to consider with himself, if at such a time, some two or three that had been acquainted with the use of reading and writing had appeared, and made public show (yet concealing purposely the mystery of it, to beget admiration,) of their Art, by communicating with one another at a great distance (as now is ordinary) by the mediation of written papers, which should contain particulars of the present condition of each place, what is done, what hath happened, etc. who can think otherwise, but that either the men would have been judged more than men, that could see and know at such a distance; or at least, the papers that brought intelligence unto them, to be some kind of Angel or Devils? But we need not go by conjectures; for it is cetain enough, by the experience we have had of it in these later times, that it would have been so: witness diverss that have written of the Indies, and of America: who also relate what use the Spaniards made of it, to beget to themselves, for this very thing, an opinion of divine and supernatural abilities. You may read of it, if you please, and be not better furnished, in Herm. Hugo, De prima scribendi origine, printed at Antwerp, 1617. in his Preface. And if any man think that I make too great a wonder of it, as I know there be many (never born to be Philosophers) who can hardly be brought to admire any thing that is known and ordinary: I could appeal to many both ancient and late, men of great reputation and learning, that have been of the same judgement, who have given it place (and some, preeminence,) among the greatest miracles in the world. You may find many of them quoted by the said Author. For my part, I profess to admire nothing more. I should not think it so much, to see a dead body made to walk by some Necromancer for a time, as I do to hear a man, that hath been dead some hundred, or thousand of years perchance, to speak to me so audibly and plainly by this Art. Neither do I think it a greater wonder, that some men have spoken without a tongue, (whereof I read a very late example in Nicol. Tulpius his Observe. Medicae lib. 1. c. 41. Mutus loquens.) then that men should be able so familiarly and readily to communicate with one another at a distance, by the only help of their hands. We may give men the praise, to have been the instruments and secondary cause; as some, we know, are commonly named to have invented some letters, and some others: but he is much to blame, in my judgement, that looks upon any other then God himself as the author of so great and so inestimable a benefit.  
Were we to treat of the causes of Divination in general, and of the several opinions about it, we should think it necessary to begin with a consideration of that, which is commonly called among Philosophers Intellectus agens; what it is according to Aristotle, what according to Averro and other Arabs; whether a particular existence in every man, or whether universal in all men; whether part of the soul of man, or whether extrinsical and adventitious; whether eternal à priore & posteriore, or whether à posteriore only, or not so much as à posteriore; and the like. From the nature of which intellectus agens, most Arabs and many Jews fetch Divination; yea and some Christians too, not of them only who had the bare name, as Pomponatius and the like; but some also that seem to ascribe very much to the Scriptures, 
Bod. Theat. Nat. p. 529, etc.  as Bodinus particularly; whose opinion of an extrinsical intellectus agens in every man, seems not much repugnant to aboalis in point of memory, before spoken of. He is copious enough upon that argument, if any desire to know his opinion. There is no question but if these opinions were true, or fit for our consideration in this place, we might conclude rightly enough, that enthusiastic Divination is no supernatural thing, but natural unto man as he is a man, endowed with such and such properties. For as in case of the pestilence incidental unto men, we do not say that it is supernatural, but natural unto man to be infected; though the immediate cause (sometimes at least,) be not in man, but from such and such a constitution of the skies, and such a temper of the air, to which such a constitution, and such a temper at some times is natural, or doth happen by course of nature: So though this intellectus agens, as many teach, be a thing extrinsical, yet as (according to their opinion) it is natural unto all men, that are right men, to have such a one; so both it and the effects of it, (Divination among the rest,) may be thought natural unto men. But for my part, as I do not embrace the opinion myself, so do I think the disquisition too abstruse for ordinary men: and perchance more abstruse than profitable, for any.  
Aristotle's opinion is that which I shall chief pitch upon; and if he do not help us, I see but little hopes from any other. Aristotle then in his Problems, sect. 30.1. hath a long discourse of the several effects of the atra bilis, according to its different κράσις or temperature; that is, as it is mixed either with heat, or cold. Among other things, he hath these words: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. that is; They to whom this [melancholic] temperament is natural, it presently shows itself in the variety of their nature and dispositions, according to the diversity of the temperament or mixture. They that have superfluity of it, and cold, they are [naturally] sluggish and stupid. but they that abound with it joined with heat, they are wildish, good natured, [or witty] prone to love, quickly moved to passions and concupiscences; and some also very talkative, [or discursive.] And some again, because of the nearness of this heat to the seat of reason, are liable to distempers of madness, and enthusiasticknesse. Hence also are proceeded the Sibyls, and the Bacchicks, and all that are truly ἔνθεοι, [so called and accounted, that is, divinely possessed, and inspired,] when it doth not happen through sickness, but by natural temper. Aristotle doth seem to contradict himself in those last words, in that having made enthusiasticknesse a νόσημα, that is, a distemper, or sickness, he doth afterwards affirm, that the [true] ἔνθεοι must be so by their natural temper. which perchance made Budeus to leave out those last words in the Greek, 
Bud. Annot. in Pand. ed. Lug. 1562. p. 698.  where he citys them in his Annotations upon the Pandects. But it must be remembered, which was noted before, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is sometimes taken for a bodily disease; and so 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (commonly confounded) are distinct: Aristotle's purpose being to say, that both the ἐνθυσιασικοὶ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, through disease, and the ἔνθεοι, naturally, proceed from this kind of mixture of the atra bilis. But again, If ἔνθεοι, may some say, so really, how naturally? Except we shall say, that Aristotle intended to assign a double cause: the one natural in preparing the body, without which preparation nothing would be done; the other supernatural, the formal and immediate cause of the operation. And if this were his meaning, than he is much wronged by them who lay to his charge, as though he made Melancholy the only cause; whereas themselves also allow of some previous preparation and disposition (in such cases) as necessary.  
I have heard some learned men make a question whether those Problems were truly Aristotle's, because they have observed some things in them not worthy (they think) so grave and solid a Philosopher. I have thought so myself sometimes, I must confess; and it is not impossible but that something might be foisted in here and there, that is of another stamp. But for the generality of the book, there is authority enough from ancient Authors by whom it is often quoted: and for this part and parcel of it we are now upon, there is too much of Aristotle's stile and genius in it, to leave it doubtful and questionable. And besides that, we have Cicero's testimony, in his first of Divination: Aristoteles quidem eos etiam qui valetudinis vitio furerent, & melancholici dicerentur, censebat habere aliquid in animis praesagiens atque divinum. Except Aristotle should treat of it somewhere else too, as I think he doth; though this be the place most taken notice of. For my part, I confess that I ascribe much to this discourse of the Philosopher concerning the effects of atra bilis. I wish some few lines had been left out, that the whole might have been read or interpreted in offensively. However, because I would not be overlong upon this subject, I shall content myself with what hath been said upon it, hastening to the consideration of another opinion of the same Aristotle, which few take notice of that have written of this subject, concerning the causes of Divination; upon which I purpose to ground my conclusion. But first of all to make it the more intelligible to all men, I must begin with some general grounds.  
First, That there is nothing without a cause, but God.  
Secondly, That some things are by God's immediate will, without any subordination of secondary means; and some things though by the will of God, yet through means which he hath appointed, known to us under the name and notion of natural causes.  
Thirdly, Of things that happen by natural causes, some things happen according to the ordinary course of nature, having their limited times and seasons, etc. other things extraordinarily, (as to the ordinary course of nature) though not less naturally.  
Fourthly, Nothing that happens according to the ordinary course of nature, whereof the cause is known, though it be foretold long before, comes within the compass of true Divination.  
For example; An ginger can foretell what Eclipses of either Sun or Moon will be a hundred or two hundred years hence; at what Day of the month, and what Hour of the Day they will happen. I know what can be said against it, that some have been deceived in the hour, as in the Eclipse that happened 1605. April 3. about which some very able Artists are noted to have mistaken; and the reason is given by Astronomers how such a mistake might happen: However it is very seldom that such a chance doth happen, and when it doth, it is but a mistake of the hour, not of the day. In such predictions, though wonderful to ignorant people, and to some that make a trade of cheating people that are ignorant, there is nothing supernatural, nothing that really can be accounted Divination.  
Fifthly, That many things happen according to the constant course of nature, the causes whereof are not known: For example; the Flux and Reflux of the Sea, the inundation of the river Nilus; and the like.  
Sixthly, That many natural things before they come to that pass, as to be generally known or visible, have some kind of obscure beginnings, by which they be known by some long before. Or thus; That many natural things, by some natural foregoing signs, may be known, felt or discerned by those men or creatures, that have a natural disposition or sympathy, whether constant or temporary, to those things or their signs, though unto others that have not they be altogether unknown.  
So, for example, many dumb creatures are sensible of future changes and alterations of air, of imminent storms and tempests. They foresee them not by any ratiocination, or consideration of the causes, but feel some effects of the agitation of causes, and foregoing symptoms, which in very truth are part of the being of the things themselves, not yet so discernible as afterwards. And not dumb creatures only, but men also, by the natural temper of their heads, or by some accidental distemper in some member, can foretell, some times a long time before, such alterations and Tempests, Frost or Snow, wet or dry weather, and the like; not by the help of their reason, but by some proper antecedent effects of such changes and chances, which they feel in themselves.  
And this hath brought us to the main business which we are to consider of, and so to come to a conclusion. The ancient Stoic Philosophers, who did ascribe all things unto Fate or Destiny, did enlarge themselves very much upon this subject; alleging, first, that as nothing did happen in the world, but by an eternal concatenation of causes; so secondly, that there is such dependence of these causes, of the one upon the other, that nothing can truly be said to happen suddenly, because nothing but had in, and of itself an aptitude to be foreseen long before in its Causes. Nay, some went further, that all things that should be, had a kind of present being in the generality of nature, though no actual visible existence. Upon all which they inferred the possibility of Divination by the knowledge of nature. But leaving them to their opinions as too general and remote, Democritus will bring us nearer to our aim; who maintained that out of all things that happened by natural causes, there proceeded certain species (εἴδωλα he called them) and emanations; not from the things themselves only when actually existent, (though then indeed most strong and apparent,) but from their Causes also. It will be hard to make them that have no philosophical knowledge of nature at all to comprehend this: I do not say to believe it, that is another thing; but to comprehend what is intended, whether true or false. But they that have so much philosophy in them, as to be able to give some account more than every child can, (because he hath eyes,) how they see, especially if ever they have been spectators of the species of objects, gathered through a little hole and piece of glass before it in a dark chamber, upon a white wall, or sheet of paper; as most (I suppose) that have any curiosity, have seen at some time or other: such may the better conceive what is intended. Not that I make those species that issue out of objects, by the intromission whereof the sight is accomplished, to be the very same as those emanations he maintained; but only to have some kind of resemblance, whereby those may the better be understood.  
Now this was Aristotle's opinion, and the opinion of Synesius too, a very learned Philosopher of later times, that these emanations were the natural cause of Divination by Dreams, when and where there was a disposition in the subject for reception or impression: which was, when and where reason had least force, as in Sleep, and Trances; and in such persons where reason naturally was weakest, and the fancy strongest, as in Women, weak men, Idiots, and the like. Aristotle indeed doth not there mention (neither doth Synesius) other Divination, then that which is by Dreams: but there being the same reason, I take it as generally intended by him; or at least appliable to any other kind, whereof question may be made, whether natural or supernatural. I make the more of this opinion, though I propose it but as an opinion, because I am very confident that greatest secrets of nature do depend from such kind of natural unsensible emanations; as might appear by the consideration of many particulars, and the examination of several opinions, if it were part of my task. Now from all that hath been said and observed hitherto, that which I would infer, is;  
First from those general instances, not less to be wondered at, though certainly known and acknowledged to proceed from causes that are natural, whether known or unknown, That it is possible, if not probable, that some enthusiastic Divination may proceed from natural causes.  
Secondly, That such Divination as is concerning natural events, grounded upon natural causes, whether known or unknown, may possibly proceed from some such unsensible emanations as have been spoken of: those emanations at least as probable a cause of Divination in Fools and Idiots, as any other that hath been given; as Melancholy may be of some kind of Divination in a different temper and disposition.  
What else may be said in this point agreeable to Aristotle's doctrine, delivered by him in many places, shall be showed when we shall treat of the causes of enthusiasm in general.  
Most that have written of Divination, to prove that it proceeds of natural causes, insist upon the divination of some dying men, upon which they infer a natural aptitude of the Soul to it when lose and free from the body. That holy men when near to death, have often prophesied by immediate divine Inspiration, is not a thing to be disputed among Christians. But what should make some, ordinary men, sometimes, to foresee, not the day and hour of their own Departure only, but to foretell the period of some other men's lives also, whereof there be divers examples both ancient and late: and not to foretell things only that belong to life and death; but sometimes more generally, many future things, which have proved true by the event: of this, question may be made without offence, whether natural, or supernatural. First for emanations; it cannot be doubted, but that long sickness in general, but especially such and such as may have more particular operation and sympathy, may so affect the body, as to dispose it for the reception or dijudication of such emanations, if the thing foreseen and foretold be such as may be ascribed to natural causes. But secondly, I remember an observation in the Author of the History of the Council of Trent, that it is natural unto many, dying, out of some hidden and supernatural cause, to fall into a great contempt and loathing of all worldly things and humane affairs. But I know not how far I may trust my memory. For I have not the book at this time. The words (the best satisfaction I can give to the Reader,) in which I have entered it many years ago, when I first read it, into my Adversaria, are these; [P. 758. that refers to the Latin Translation, printed in Germany in 4o.] ὅτι solemn in confinio mortis positis, res humanas ex ignota quadam & supernaturali causa fastidire. Now such a fastidium we know, is an effect, as of greatest wisdom and religion often; so sometimes of pure melancholy, which would bring us to Aristotle's opinion of the effects of atra bilis before spoken of. But I have met with an observation of Aretaeus, an ancient Physician long before Galen, which I think very considerable in this place. Aretaeus doth affirm, that they that are sick in the heart (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is a very general word, but more particularly intended of those that labour of a syncope,) have their external senses more quick; that they see better, and hear better; that their mind is better settled, and their hearts more pure. and not only so, but that the same do foretell many future things also with great certainty. It is much against my will, that I must take any thing upon trust; I see very learned men so often deceived by it; but this I do: Hieron. Mercurialis is my Author, in his Variae Lectiones; where you may find it, and the Authors own words. I would not give any occasion of offence, by mixing impertinently and unseasonably things natural and supernatural, that is, heaven and earth: But who can read those words of that ancient Author, (especially if compared with Galens, who hath almost the same of the vulnerati cord, but that he doth not go so far as Divination,) but will think of Esays words 57 v. 15. For thus saith the high and lofty One, etc. 
Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 7. c. 52.  But this by the way only. Pliny in his Natural history witnesseth of his time, that Plena vita est his vaticiniis; that is, that such prophecies of dying men happened very frequently: which nevertheless he professeth to make no great reckoning of, because for the most part false. Whereof he doth give a very notable instance of one Gabienus, in the time of the Civil wars. It may be read in him: and I am confident that he made choice of that instance among many, as of a thing that was generally known, and indoubtable.  

Cicero 1. De Divin.  Multos nemora sylvaeque, multos amnes aut maria commovent; quorum furibunda mens videt ante multo quae futura sunt; saith Tully. That the sight of vast objects, as rocks and mountains, and wild prospects, and the attended consideration of some natural object in a solitary place, doth dispose some men to ecstasy, that is, transport their thoughts beyond their ordinary limits, and doth raise strange affections in them, I know to be most true: and if any should affect ecstatical raptures, or alienation of mind, it is like enough that by the use of such means, with the concurrence of some others, as some kind of music, (to such as are of that temper,) they might be procured. But that any true Divination, or foretelling of things future, would follow upon it, I am not very apt to believe, neither do I know any reason for it.  
However, I think that man that can enjoy his natural wit and reason with sobriety, and doth affect such raptures and alienations of mind, hath attained to a good degree of madness, without rapture, which makes him so much to undervalue the highest gift of God, (Grace excepted, which is but a perfection of Reason, or a reformation of corrupt Reason;) sound Reason. It made Aristotle deny that any Divination, either by Dreams or otherwise, was from God, because not Ignorant only, but Wicked men also were observed to have a greater share in such, than those that were noted for either Learning or Piety. And truly, I think it is not without some providence of God that it should be so; that those whom God hath blessed with wisdom, and a discerning spirit, might the better content themselves with their share, and be the more hearty thankful. And in very deed, sound Reason and a discerning spirit is a perpetual kind of Divination: as also it is somewhere called in the Scriptures. I could say much more: but it is not my Theme here, and I shall have a better opportunity, in the next Chapter, to say somewhat of the excellency of Reason in matter of True prophecy.   

CHAP. III. Of Contemplative and philosophical enthusiasm.  
The Contents.  
Contemplation; Θεωρία: the happiness of God, (and thence the Greek word,) according to Aristotle: The chiefest pleasure of man in this life, according to divers of the Epicurean Sect. Lucretius the Poet, and Hypocrates the first of Physicians, their testimonies. Plato and Philo Jud. their Philosophy. ¶ The dependence of External Senses on the Mind: their operation suspended by the intention of it; as particularly, that of Feeling: and the usefulness of this knowledge, for the preservation of public peace, and of whole kingdoms, showed by a notable instance out of Thuanus. ¶ Ecstasis; the word how used by the Ancients: how by later writers. The words of S. Mark 3. v. 21. ἔλεγον 〈◊〉 ὅτι 〈◊〉, for they said, etc. vindicated from a wrong and offensive interpretation. Some cautions inserted to prevent (in that which follows) offence by mistake. Ecstasis taken for a total suspension of all sensitive powers, the effect sometimes of Contemplation, and earnest intention of the mind. Enthusiastic Delusions incidental to natural Ecstasies, and bodily distempers, proved by many examples, both old (out of Tertullian, etc.) and late; one very late, in Sussex. This matter how subject to be mistaken, even by men judicious otherwise, through ignorance of natural causes. One notable instance of it. The power of the fancy in Ecstasies, and other distempers of body against Reason, and perfect (but in some one object) understanding; argued by reason, and proved by many examples and instances. A sure way to avoid the danger of enthusiastic Illusions, out of Tertullian, Not to seek after New Lights, etc. A caveat concerning the case of Witches: their actions real, not imaginary. ¶ Several questions proposed, and fully discussed by reasons and authorities. First, whether a Voluntary ecstasy be a thing possible in nature. Giraldus Cambrensis, and his Enthusiasts: Merlin's Turkish Enthusiasts. The Messaliani, or Prayers, so called anciently. A consideration concerning the nature of their distemper, whether contagious or no. Secondly, Whether in Natural, or Supernatural and Diabolical ecstasies there be, or may be (without a Miracle,) a real separation of the Soul from the body. Thirdly and lastly, (after a distinction of sight internal, and external,) Whether long Contemplation and Philosophy may transform a man into an Angelical nature, and unite him unto God in an extraordinary manner, by communion of substance, etc. ¶ That Mystical Theology, highly commended by some Christians as the most perfect way, shown to be the invention of Heathen Philosophers. Dionysius Areopagita, the first broacher of it amongst Christians, by some new arguments out of Theophrastus, Synesius, etc. further evinced a Counterfeit. ¶ A Relation concerning Visions and Enthusiasms that happened to a Nun in France some years ago, examined: and those Visions and Revelations, against the judgement of divers eminent men of France, maintained to be the effects of nature merely. Immoderate voluntary Pennances and bodily Chastisements no certain argument of true Mortification and Piety. ¶ Maximus the Monk and Confessor his writings: Eunapius Of the life of Philosophers: passages out of them vindicated from wrong translations. The Author of the New Method: and the beginnings of mahometism.  
THe word in Greek for Contemplation is θεωρία. the reason of which word may be, either because the highest object of man's Contemplation is God; (Θεὸς in Greek;) or because as perfect happiness doth most properly belong unto God, so doth Contemplation, wherein his happiness doth chief consist; as by Aristotle is excellently well, to the utmost of what could come from mere man, in his ethics and elsewhere, disputed and declared. Who also doth thereupon well infer, that as that man must needs be accounted most happy that is likest unto God, so the chiefest happiness of man also must needs consist in Contemplation. Hence it is (for I go no further then humane reason here, I determine nothing myself,) that your refined Epicures, in profession Epicures, because they maintained that pleasure was the end (or summum bonum) of man; but in their particular tenets, and in their lives too, some of them, upon this ground, that there was not any true lasting pleasure but in the exercise of virtue, and peace of Conscience, (of which argument you may read an epistle of one of that profession, among Cicero's ad Familiares, lib. 15.19.) not inferior to the best of Philosophers; these refined Epicures, that proposed unto themselves not other end but their own pleasure and contentment of mind, divers of them, willingly bereft themselves of all other sensual pleasures, contemned the pomp and glory of all worldly wealth and greatness, that they might enjoy the pleasure of Contemplation. It may seem strange to some; but it must be to them that never had any experience in themselves of this noblest operation of the soul, and will believe nothing, though attested by never so many credible witnesses, that is not suitable to their own disposition. I know not in what rank of Epicures I should place Lucrece the Poet: but sure I am, (and I doubt not but it hath happened unto others as well as unto me;) that some of his verses, setting out the happiness of some kind of contemplation, have had that operation upon me (as often almost as I have had occasion to ride, and wanted other company, till of late years,) as I thought might compare with the highest contentments they can brag of, that have no other aim or end in this world, then present pleasure and contentment. The verses I mean (if any shall be so curious as to desire to know,) are those at the beginning of his second book, Suave mari magno, etc. to, Nunc age quo 〈◊〉 tu, etc. I wish some good English Poet would take them to task; though I doubt much whether it be possible for any traduction to reach the excellency and the elegancy of the original, when the original hath so much of both: and better they should not be meddled with at all, then spoiled in the translation.  
But to leave these Epicureans, whose very name, because of the major part of that name, (those of later ages especially,) ought to be in detestation to all that love virtue and goodness: what man so dull and stupid, that can read Hypocrates upon this subject of philosophical contemplation, without being affected himself, yea transported besides himself in some measure? His whole Epistle to Demagetus, containing his relation and judgement concerning Democritus, who by others generally was conceived mad or frantic; and his conference with him, wherein the vanity of all humane affairs is set out to the life; is in my judgement a very divine piece to that purpose. The oftener I read it, the more I am affected with it: but that it is still with some suspicion, that the Author of it (no Christian I know) should be later than Hypocrates. But since that by very learned men, and best versed in Greek Authors, Physicians and others, it is acknowledged a genuine piece, I rather submit to better judgements. In one of his Epistles to Philopoemen, having first treated of melancholy as the effect of a bodily disease, he proceeds to melancholy as an effect of learning. Not only (saith he) mad men covet Caves and Solitudes; but they also that have attained to that sublimity of mind, as to be above all worldly cares, that they may not be subject to any disturbance. For as often as the mind, interrupted in its operation by external objects, would have the body to be still, presently it betakes itself unto retiredness. There rising betimes in the morning, as it were, [the morning being the most advantageous time for contemplation; whence also it is, that the Hebrew word which signifieth to seek diligently, is taken from the aurora and daybreak:] it beholds round about in itself the region of [solid] Truth; where neither wife, nor children, nor mother, nor any cousins, or kindred, or servants, or any thing else of what nature soever it be, that can make any trouble are to be seen. All things are excluded that can disturb: neither dare they attempt to come, for reverence of those that inhabit there. For there inhabit the Arts and the virtues: there Gods and 
* δαίμονες. The word Angel, for a good Spirit, is used by divers heathens.  Angels: there Counsels and Decrees: yea the wide and ample Firmament itself, with all its variety of stars and Planets of several motions, by which it is so beautifully decked and adorned, is there also. I do not expect that all men should be affected with these things. I will forbear to inquire into the reason, which it may be would be more unpleasing. They may make a virtue of a defect, that will forbear to read, so they forbear to censure. As for them that have any curiosity at all for the speculation of Nature, and her wonderful works; I dare promise them that they shall find somewhat before they come to the end of this Chapter, that may give them better content. But I must take my liberty to proceed by degrees; and I am sure I do not digress from my subject.  
I have said somewhat of Hypocrates: how much more may we of Plato the Philosopher! whom no man (in some principal passages) can read in his own language, without some passion tending to enthusiasm: much less can we think that he could so write himself, had not he been carried by some excess of natural wit and vigour, beyond ordinary men. Certain enough it is, that the sublimity both of his matter and language, hath been the infatuation of many, who being but weak, adspired high. It hath happened so unto many, not Heathens only, but some also that made profession of Christianity. And if his Philosophy hath been a great advantage to Christianity, as some ancient Fathers have judged: yet of Christians it hath many heretics; and is to this day the common refuge of contemplative men, whether Christians, or others, that have run themselves besides their wits: who also have not wanted Disciples, studious and ambitious to vent and propagate the abortive fruits of such depraved fancies, unto others. Not to speak (as not needful here) of some of his expressions in his sublimest contemplations: wherein though I can be persuaded myself, that he intended well; yet it cannot be denied, that he hath given just offence to them that are not so persuaded; seeming thereby to countenance some vices, no less brutish and unnatural, than his best virtues and abilities have exceeded, or have been thought to exceed ordinary nature. Plato may be read with less danger, and no less pleasure perchance, in Philo Judaeus; a natural Jew, but a better Platonist by far, both for his style and his Tenets, than he was a Jew, in point of Faith and Religion. For a taste of his enthusiastic expressions, in imitation of Plato, the Reader that is not better acquainted with him of himself, may take, if he please, his interpretation of those words of Scripture, 〈◊〉 εἰχόνα 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ὁμοίωσιν; in his Treatise Of the Creation; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. But I would have him read in his own language, or not at all. For besides that most Translations lose the native grace of the original expressions: in such passages, (as almost all Plato over,) no translation can be made without great obscurity; wherewith the understanding being perplexed and entangled, the matter must needs have less influence (if any at all) upon the heart and affections. Now when the mind is fixed upon any such contemplation, it is frequently said by Greek Authors, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, to be agitated by a divine power, or spirit. It is in that place of Philo but now spoken of: and it is in Plato too, with some others equivalent to that, in his Phaedrus, and elsewhere.  
All this while we have insisted but upon one effect of Philosophical Contemplation, intellectual pleasures and contentments, proceeding from the elevation of the mind above ordinary worldly objects, and fixed upon the contemplation of things natural, and supernatural: which Operation of the mind, as we said but now, is by some called enthusiasm.  
We proceed now to the consideration of other effects of Contemplation, which by degrees will bring us to the main controversy, beyond which nothing (as to this world) can go, concerning the real and actual separation of the soul from the body by it: and to somewhat above that too, the absolute transformation of man into God. To make our way more plain to all readers, we shall first open some points, which may be perchance out of the knowledge and consideration of not a few.  
It is a common speech, That our eyes see; our ears hear; and the like. There is no need to except against it in common use: yet Philosophers and Physicians that have looked more nearly into the nature of things, except against the propriety of the speech, teaching that, not the eye, but the soul through the eye; nor the ear, but the soul through the ear; and so of other senses. Aristotle in his Problems, where he inquireth why the sense of hearing is quicker in the night, among other things, hath somewhat to this purpose, and allegeth those words, νοῦς ὁρᾷ, καὶ νοῦς ἀκούει, (the mind seethe, the mind heareth;) as a common speech. Of the Author of those words, and of his meaning, I have had occasion to treat elsewhere, which is not needful here. I shall content myself with with two ancient Latin Authors. The first here, though later in time, shall be Pliny: Animo autem videmus, ammo cernimus; oculi ceu vasa quaedam, visibilem ejus partem accipiunt, atque transmittunt. Sic magna cogitatio obcaecat, abducto intus visu. Sic in morbo comitiali, aperti nihil cernunt, animo caligante. The second, Cicero: whom because somewhat more large, 
Cic. 1 Tuscul.  though to the same effect, I will set down in English. Neque enim est ullus sensus in corpore, etc. that is; Neither is any sense, truly and really, resident in the body itself: but as not only naturalists, but Physicians also, who have looked into those places by [anatomical] dissection, teach; from [the brain] the seat of the Soul, there be certain passages and conveyances, contrived into several pipes and channels, unto the eyes, ears and nostrils; so that sometimes, either through intention of the mind in a deep study, or through some distemper of the body, the influence being stopped, though our ears and eyes be both sound and open, we neither see nor hear. Whence is easy to be gathered, that it is the mind, or soul, that seethe and heareth: not those parts of the body, which are but the windows, as it were, of the soul. Lucrece the Poet, opposeth this very much, (Dicere porro oculos nullam rem cernere posse; Sed per eos animum ut foribus spectare reclusis, etc. lib. 3.) but like himself; that is, a brutish Epicure, who would not have us to believe either Sun or Moon to be bigger than they appear to our eyes, lest we should in any thing ascribe more to reason, then to sense: and yet elsewhere denieth that the eye was made to see, or the ear to hear, etc. (Illud in his rebus vitium vehementer; & illum Effugere errorem, etc. li. 4.) lest he might seem to ascribe somewhat unto providence. Now whether the faculty only, or some spirits with it, be conveyed into the organs; and why, if the faculty be resident in the brain, some parts of the body that are furthest off, are more quick of sense then those nearest unto the fountain; & other like questions, or objections that may be made: I must refer to philosophers and Anatomists.  
One question we must not omit, because it will concern us. If it be so as we have said, that not the eye properly, but the soul through the eye seethe, heareth, etc. why may not the soul, at any time, though the eye be open, forbear to see; and the ear open, by inhibiting her influence, hinder her hearing? Such an objection is made by Philo Judaeus: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Though the mind (or soul) saith he, lay its command upon the sight, (or sense of seeing) that it should not see, it will have its operation nevertheless upon its object: and so the hearing, though the soul interdict it never so strictly, it will hear, if any voice be within the compass of it: so the smelling, etc. But the matter will easily be answered. For though it be the same soul in man, that willeth, and seethe; yet the one being a faculty of the soul as it is rational, the other, an operation of it as it is sensitive; that there should be such a subordination, or necessary dependence of the sensitive faculties, as there is of the locomotiva (as commonly called,) upon the will, it doth not follow. It is enough, that the opening or shutting of the eye dependeth on the immediate command of the will: but for the influence of sense, the same Providence that took order for the one, that it should be arbitrary, saw not the like reason for the other, and therefore took no order for it; which should be reason enough to us, why it is not so. But if the soul intent it purposely, and shall use Art to withdraw its influence, which it cannot by command; as by intent meditation, or the like; if then it may be done, (as we shall show it may:) that is enough to prove, that the power of sense is resident in the soul.  
But yet let us consider a while; if it will be worth the while, as I think it will. I find it in Cicero too: Vt facile intelligi possit, animum & videre & audire, non eas partes quae quasi sunt fenestrae animi: quibus tamen sentire nihil que at mens, (which is quite contrary to Philo's assertion:) nisi id agate & adsit. He seemeth to say, that except the mind intent it, though the organs themselves do their parts, the sense is not accomplished. It is not so ordinarily, we know: but whether by long use and custom, some such thing in some senses may not be brought to pass, I cannot tell. For what shall we think of those Lacedaemonian boys and girls, (a thing so generally attested by so many Christians, as well as Heathens:) that would not only play, prattle, and quarrel with one another in their play, but also keep their countenances without any the least appearance of change; whilst their backs were torn with unmerciful whips and scourges? Which were used so long sometimes, and so cruelly, that some were known to die in the exercise (for it was accounted no other:) very really, before it could be discerned that they smarted. Which made the Stoic Philosophers to maintain, (which also some of them confirmed by experience made upon their own bodies,) that pain was but opinion: and Galen also to maintain against Aristotle, (I shall name my Author by and by:) that sensus non est mutatio quae fit in instrumento, sed à mutationis cognitione provenire.  
I am very well pleased with the occasion that offers itself, that the Reader may the better be satisfied, how necessary the knowledge of these things is, not for the satisfaction of curiosity only, but even for the maintenance of public peace. In the year of the Lord 1599 was brought to Paris in France a certain maid named Martha, (we had one before of that very name, and not unlike profession, out of Plutarch:) which was supposed to be possessed. She did many things to make the world think so. Strange gestures and convulsions, or convulsive motions rather, she had at command, and sometimes she was heard to speak strange Languages: but that was but sometimes and sparingly; which gave occasion of suspicion that she was a counterfeit. One thing she was very perfect at: She would endure pins and needles to be thrust in at the fleshy parts of her neck, or arms, and never seem to feel it. All the Physicians in Town, that were accounted of any ability, were employed about it, to find out the truth. but being much divided in their judgements themselves, how should others be certainly resolved? The Monks and friars were very zealous that she might be accounted possessed, as thinking thereby to get great honour to their Exorcisms, and to give a great blow (their own profession: I have a good Author for it:) to the heretics, who despised them: by which Exorcisms though they could not, (having often tried,) dispossess her; yet because the supposed Devil shown himself very impatient at the hearing of them, they thought that conviction enough, until more could be done; which certainly would have been the end, if things had been carried with more moderation. But the whole City being so divided about it, that a dangerous uproar was daily expected, and a worse consequent upon that feared; so that the King and his council were glad to interpose with all their power, and all little enough to prevent it: the conclusion was, that Martha was found to be a mere counterfeit. Yet herein the Pope must have his due commendation. For to Rome she was had by no mean persons, that intended notable feats with her, and perchance no less (so much was feared at least; and a less thing hath done it, we know, in some kingdoms:) then the subversion of a whole kingdom. But the Pope's impartial carriage in the business broke the neck of the plot, for which some of the chief contrivers, though they escaped the justice of men, yet soon incurred the just vengeance of God, and through shame and vexation of spirit came to a speedy death. But before things came to this light, whilst the Physicians at Paris were divided about it into Parties; one Morescot did set out a book about it, by which he did endeavour to prove that she was a counterfeit, & among other things did very particularly insist upon that point of the Needles, showing that it was not without either precedent in History, (by the example of the Lacedaemonian boys;) or without grounds of possibility in nature; by unfolding the nature of sense, with many curious observations upon it. I never saw the book. 
Thuanus, Hist. sui temp. tom. 5. lib. 123.  what I have of it, I have it out of Thuanus, that faithful and noble Historian, where also the whole story is more particularly to be found. But for that particular of the Lacedæmonians, I have had occasion to treat of it, and of divers other examples of the same kind, in another place; from which I think so much may very probably be inferred, that where the will is obstinately bend, (to which kind of 
* See more below, in the First question: in S. Augustin 's words, concerning Restitutus.  obstinacy, besides the advantage of a natural temper in some, long use is much available;) the sense, if not altogether taken away, yet is nothing near so great, or so sharp, as it is in others, where no such preparation is made.  
However, in the order that I propose unto myself, we are not yet come to that: we shall have another place for it afterwards. In the mean time I require no more here, but that intent Contemplation may stop the influence, and so hinder the operation of some one sense. Who is it almost, especially if, naturally, in prosecutions sad and serious, that hath not made trial of it in himself? As for the sense of Feeling, Erasmus (whose credit, I believe, will hold with most for a greater matter,) speaketh of himself: Et ipse sum expertus in cruciatu dentium aut calculi, 
Eras. Ad. Chil. 4. Cent. 5.  multo leviorem reddi doloris sensum, si possis animum in aliquam cogitationem alienam intendere. Might we believe Epicurus of himself, he tells us very strange things of his Patience, shall I say? or unsensibleness in greatest extremity of bodily pains. He would make us believe, that he was at the height of his Contemplation, when his Disease was come to its height. Were it another, that had more credit with me than Epicurus, I should believe that the intention of his Contemplation, (as in Erasmus his case) might take off the edge of his pains: But Cicero long ago hath well argued it with him, 
Cic. 5. Tuscul. Quaest.  or against him rather; whether it were possible that a man of such principles, could afford an example of such patience: to whose judgement and determination in this particular, (though I make a great difference between patience, as a virtue, and such resolution and obstinacy, which the most wicked, yea most brutish are capable of:) I do ascribe much more, then to Epicurus his testimony concerning himself.  
This concerning a partial deprivation of sense through natural causes, as subject to less difficulty, may serve: but a total, commonly called ecstasy, or Trance, as liable to more both opposition and difficulty; so shall we more largely and punctually insist upon it, both by reasons, and by examples. But before we enter upon it, I must premit some cautions, to prevent offence upon mistake.  
First, whereas by our inscription or indication at the beginning, we profess to treat in this Chapter of Contemplative philosophical enthusiasm; by Philosophical we do not intent such as is proper to contemplative Philosophers only; of which kind somewhat hath already, and much more remaineth in the conclusion of all to be spoken: but all kind of enthusiasm having any dependence from the intention, or contemplation of the mind: which because most proper unto Philosophers, is therefore designed by that name; though incidental unto some, who never had to do with any, (more than natural unto all, that are naturally rational,) Philosophy. If this do not satisfy, I desire that my general title, Of enthusiasm proceeding from natural causes, etc. may be remembered: beyond which not to excurre, but where I give an account in some petty digression, is my chiefest care.  
Secondly, whilst we endeavour to reduce divers ecstasies to natural causes, the ignorance of which causes we shall show to have been the cause of many evils; we would not be suspected by any, to question the truth and reality of supernatural: not only of such, for which having the authority of the Holy Scriptures, no man can deny or question them, except he first deny or question the truth and reality of these as divine; but also of many others, which either good, though not infallible authority, or sound reason, upon due examination of circumstances, hath commended unto us for such. Except a man will argue, because we do not believe all dreams that are dreamt by all manner of people in any part of the world, (which some have maintained,) to be prophetical, that therefore none are from God: or, because precious stones may be counterfeited, so that the most skilful (
* See Abrah. Ecchel. in Habdarrhamanum, De proprietat. etc. Not. p. 155.160.  as is noted by some,) may sometimes be deceived, therefore there is no such thing in the world as true saphires, or Diamonds.  
Thirdly and lastly, when in matter of diseases, we oppose natural causes to supernatural, whether divine or diabolical; as we do not exclude the general will of God, without which nothing can be; so neither the general ministry and intervention of the Devil, who, for aught I know, may have a hand in all, or most diseases, to which mortal man (through sin) is naturally liable. But whether it be so or no, and by what kind of operation, is a speculation not proper to us here. No man doth sin, but he is possessed in some degree; it is good Divinity: and best Philosophers have maintained, that there was no vice, but was the fruit of madness; and I believe that too to be good Philosophy; especially since I have Hypocrates too his authority for it. However, we make a difference between personal immediate possession, or operation, which we oppose to natural causes; and that general concurrence, or intervention of the Devil, which may be supposed in all that is evil, whether in a moral or natural sense. So much to prevent mistakes. Now we proceed.  
Not to insist upon the several acceptions of the word ecstasis, which are not to our purpose; I shall only observe, that it is used by ancient Greek Physicians and others, in a much different from the now common use and notion. As used by ancient Authors, it doth import a distraction of the senses, a violent alienation of the mind, nay, violent, but not fixed or settled, madness; by which only it doth differ from it. Such distraction of the senses, and such alienation of mind, as may be seen in some passionate men in a fit of Anger. As we read 
* Baron. tom. 12. a. d. 1163. § 21.  of one of the Kings of England, a Prince otherwise of excellent parts, and in his ordinary conversation very meek; but in his anger so furious, that he would not only fling and tear whatsoever was in his way, as many others; but sit upon the ground, pick straws, and do other such acts of a perfect Bedlam. As therefore of Anger it hath been said anciently, that Ira furor brevis est: so do I find 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the Author of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Physical Definitions, (supposed by many to be Galen's,) defined, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. However, that the word is always so taken by ancient Heathens for a violent Distraction, is more than I can say. For where Aristotle, in De Divin. por insomnia, upon his former position of unsensible emanations from natural objects, (of which in the former Chapter,) gives a reason why 
† 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.  some that fall into Ecstasies do prophesy; to wit, because their senses being discharged from their own proper operations, they are the more exposed to external impressions: I do not see how he could mean it of any such ecstasy, where there is a violent distraction, such as was in the Pythiae, and other, whether men or women, by whom Oracles anciently were issued; as he is interpreted by some Latin Commentators: neither was it so agreeable to his subject, of divination by dreams, to treat of alienation of mind incidental unto men perfectly waking: but very proper and pertinent, to say somewhat of Ecstasies, as the word is now taken commonly; which have great affinity with Sleep, though from causes very different.  
I take notice of it the rather, to vindicate a place of Scripture from a wrong interpretation, at which many godly men being scandalised, some have studied evasions, for which their good will hath been commended by others, more than their good luck, or judgement. It is Mark 3.21. where the Greek, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is translated in our English, For they said; he is besides himself. Neither is it in the vulgar Latin better: rather worse. The Syriack, doubtful. What interpretations, or evasions rather have been devised, may be found in Maldonat and others. The Arabic translation of all others, hath been thought by many learned men to have lighted upon the right sense. For which also it hath found great commendations among Translations. It interprets the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 rather, not of madness, but of fainting: which as it is most proper to the Story, so not improper to the word. For first, it appears by the ninth verse, that Christ himself, as man, feared that he should suffer by excessive throng: and by verse 20. that they had not time to eat. And what more likely in a hot country to cause fainting, than a great crowd, and an empty stomach? And besides, that it was ordinary enough in those countries for people when they travailed fasting, to faint (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, used of trances and ecstasies sometimes,) by the way, may probably be gathered by Matth. 15.32. except we shall conceit with some, that the people there spoken of, had been three days without eating: (enough to cause faintness in any place:) which as of itself it is improbable; so neither can it be collected by any necessary consequence (such as we must have, before we come to miracles,) from the words of the Text: but this rather, (as by learned Maldonat is well observed,) that having been three days already with Christ, and spent what small provision they had brought with them, or could procure in that place, they must have gone away fasting; which, unto them especially that had far to go, (which therefore as a considerable circumstance is well supplied by S. Mark, ch. 8. v. 3. for divers of them came from far:) would have been of dangerous consequence. And as for the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, from whence the word ecstasis is taken; if ecstasis be commonly taken (as at this day,) for a Trance, and was so anciently too; I pray what is the difference between a Trance, and a fainting or swooning, otherwise called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or deliquium, or syncope? I do not say that there is no difference: but that there is so much affinity, that the words may probably be confounded sometimes, as divers are upon less. I omit what is added by Grotius, and some others. I should have thought that less would have served, to have persuaded them that are not very contentious. But I will judge no man. I wish hearty that that Translation were corrected in all Bibles. I would not have it believed, since there is no need, that Christ's kindred did believe, or suspect at any time, that he was ecstatical. They might, I know, believe it, or make as though they believed it, and yet upon no real ground. But why should we give ground to any man (in these Anabaptistical times especially,) to dispute it, where the Scripture doth not? If it be objected that the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is not found in this sense elsewhere, in the Old or New Testament; the weakness of this objection may appear, if it be remembered, as by divers upon several occasions is observed, that even in the New Testament (not to speak of other ancient Authors and writers of all kind:) there be divers words found, which in some one place, and but one, are taken, and so commonly expounded, in a very different sense from the more known and usual. We could show divers examples, if need were.  
As for those words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 αὐτόν 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I wonder any man should find ground of an argument upon an Accusative, and not a Genitive, here used: whereas it is well known, that the construction is promiscuous enough: whereof we have an example, Mark 7.3. and Hebr. 4.14. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the one; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the other: as by learned men hath been observed. The words therefore will afford either: but I make no great matter of it, whether we translate, they went out to hold him up; or, they went out to lay hold on him. They that are in a swoon, or ready to drop down through faintness, had need both of outward and inward support: to either of which the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is very proper. But again 2 Kings, chap. 4. v. 8. we have this very phrase and construction: καὶ 〈◊〉 αὐτὸν φαγεῖν ἄρτον: and she laid hold on him to eat bread. There, Elisha resisted, till the woman used some kind of force to make him eat: here, the pressing multitude (verse 20.) hindered; some force must be used, to get him out of it, that he might be at liberty to eat. It is not improbable: but neither is it necessary that we should fly to this. I have been the longer upon it, because of the consequence, as I apprehended it; and that I thought this a very proper place.  
Scaliger's definition of an ecstasy, as we take it commonly, allowed by Sennertus, is; Privatio officiorum animae sentientis, moventis & intelligentis. very different from the true supernatural and divine, properly called ἀναγωγή. which they define; Animae abstractionem à potentiis sensitivis, & aliquando etiam intellectualibus, etc. Such ecstasies (defined by Scaliger) to be incidental to natural diseases of the body, as Epilepsies and the like, is generally granted by all Physicians. As this also: That they are commonly accompanied (in the fit) with strange sights and visions: sometimes, without any further effect; which, for distinctions sake, we may call ordinary: but sometimes leaving impressions in the brain, which have their operation out of the fit; so that the party, after he is come to himself again, as to his senses and other natural functions, yet is fully persuaded that his visions which he had in the fit, were not the natural effects of a bodily disease, but true and real. By which impressions, if strong and fixed, as in some, the party becomes often subject unto relapses into ecstasies, or ecstatical fits; though the original cause, the epilepsy, or whatever it was, be either cured, or for the present, at least, removed: So that what before was the symptom of a more general distemper, becomes now the proper distemper of the brain: which kind we shall call, as well we may, extraordinary ecstasies. Besides, a man through mere melancholy may become ecstatical; and without any direct ecstasy, yet liable to the effects of it, ecstatical impressions, and illusions in the brain. And Physicians and Philosophers observe, that there is a double Melancholy: the one that proceeds originally from general diseases; (vitio corporis;) the other, vitio solius animi, ut fit in iis qui ex nimia devotione, study, aut amore melancholici evadunt, to use learned Fyenus his words. Now whether with ecstasies, or without them; as many as are subject to visions, whether internal or 
* See below 3. question, at the beginning.  external, proceeding from natural causes, with a real apprehension of certainty & reality, where there is no real ground for either, but mere imagination; so many we take into the number of ecstatical men.  
But I will come now to particular examples, by which all that I have said will better be understood. I will begin with an example out of Tertullian. There is a sister with us, 
Tertul. de Anima, c. 9  saith he (that is, in that particular Church and Congregation which he used, whether at Carthage, his own country; or rather at Rome, where he was made priest, lived and wrote a long time, till his errors drove him out of it:) at this day, which hath obtained the gift, (or grace) of revelations; which in ecstasies of the spirit happen unto herein the Church, at the ordinary time of divine Service. She doth (in her fits) converse with Angels: sometimes with the Lord himself. She doth both hear and see things secret and mystical: beholds the hearts of some: (or, discovers the secrets of some men's hearts:) & doth some cures also upon some that come to her. Now according as either Scriptures are read, or Psalms sung, or Exhortations made, or Prayers uttered; so do different visions offer themselves unto her. It happened at a time, that I had discoursed of the soul when this our sister was in the spirit. After public Service, the people being dismissed, when she is wont to relate unto us what she hath seen; (for an account of it is diligently kept, and registered, that proof may be made upon occasion:) Among other things, said she, the substance of a Soul was showed unto me, and it seemed unto me like a spirit, etc.  
Here we must observe, that when Tertullian wrote this, he lived yet in the communion of the Catholic Church: and that this particular Congregation he speaks of, is meant of a reputed Catholic and orthodox Congregation. It is true he became a Montanist afterwards; or was accounted so at least: though in very deed, he never was of his Congregation or belief, generally; but in matter of private revelations only; which he maintained (though not those which Montanus boasted of,) very fervently: and for it being more roughly then discreetly (as S. Jerom judged) dealt with by some at Rome, he left them, and set up a Congregation of his own, which were called Tertullianistae: as S. Augustine in his book Of heretics doth declare. Neither was he questioned about private Revelations, until Montanus an Arch-villain, with his two Queans that he carried about with him as Prophetesses, had given so much offence. He was not accounted an heretic for his opinion here maintained in this book De Anima, of the Corporeity of the Soul, in that sense he maintained it: as by S. August. in more than one place is largely treated.  
What made so learned a man otherwise, to ascribe so much to private revelations, was certainly an excess of Zeal, which he shows in all his works, ignorance of natural causes, and the opinion he had of the holiness and sincerity (true enough in some perchance, as shall be showed afterwards:) of some of them, known unto him, that had such visions, which were taken for divine revelations. We must also, if we will judge of this example rightly, distinguish between that which Tertullian upon his own certain knowledge, which no man probably can doubt or question, doth witness; to wit, that such a sister there was, which had strange raptures or trances, a thing so publicly done, and so often, yea allowed of in a Catholic Church: and that which he writeth upon the credit of others; as that she disclosed some secrets, or did some strange cures; which no man is bound to believe, though it might be granted that somewhat, either casually, or by the power of the fancy, (as afterwards will be showed,) might happen in that kind, without any miracle. It is ordinary: when any thing that is accounted strange, doth happen, and is become the subject of public discourse and inquisition, there will be some found that will add unto it, to make it more wonderful, though they have no other end in it but to please their humour; most men naturally, and more women, being pleased with nothing more (it is a common observation in best Historiographers,) then with the report of strange things, whether false or true. Now for the ecstasies and visions of this Soror in Tertullian; I am clearly of opinion, and perchance my reader will be, by that time he hath done with this Chapter, that it was nothing else but an effect of devout melancholy: but not without the concurrence perchance of a natural disposition; as a strong fancy, tender brain; yea and some casual contracted disposition (or indisposition) of the body too, perchance: especially if it were an ancient maid, as that maid is reported by some to have been, (virgo vetula, in Thuanus,) by whom learned Postellus was infatuated in his old age. However, that it was an effect of melancholy, was the opinion of Franc. Junius, an orthodox Divine of high account among Protestants. Fuit autem hoc (in his Annotations upon Tertullian) phantasma laborantis melancholia, non indita è coelis revelatio. I must also warn the Reader before I proceed, 
Baronius a. d. 173.31.70. & 201.7. etc.  that wherein I differ from Baronius in those things I have written of Tertullian upon this occasion, as I do in some, I do it not altogether upon mine own judgement, (though chief grounded upon S. Jerom, and S. Augustine;) but have also the same Franc. Junius his authority to oppose against Baronius, and some others. But this is not a place to dispute it: let this warning serve.  
I am much deceived, if that famed Galinducha in Mauritius the Emperor his time, was not such another as this of Tertullian. Strange things have been written of her. No part of Aesop's, Fables, had it been written for an History, can seem so strange. But neither indeed do those that writ of her agree among themselves; nay, manifestly contradict one another. Nicephorus doth exceed all, even the Greek Menologies, in his relation; Simocata, more modest; Euagrius, very short: but all agree, (the last excepted, who doth only mention her,) in her ecstasies: which I believe might be true enough, and that in her fits she might see such strange things of heaven and hell, as is usual unto most in those fits. The Reader, if he be so curious, may find them that I have named, put together by Raderus the Jesuit, in his Viridarium Sanctorum ex Menaeis Graec. etc. Aug. Vindelic. 1607. first part, or tome, p. 264. etc. One observation only I shall make upon some words of Nicephorus, which perchance were taken, part of them at least, out of some truer relation: Haec sane cum graviter à martyrii aerumnis afficeretur, (I take the words as I find them in Raderus;) urbes circuibat, angelo duce progrediente, neque quicquam medicinae doloribus adhibuit, (these be the words) nativis tantum thermarum lavacris usa. From which words we may very probably collect, that she was much troubled with melancholy; since that not only dulcis aquae balnea tepida are commended by physicians against maniam, uterinam melancholiam, (proper to women;) but the acidulae and thermae, in all hypochondriacal distempers: though Sennertus indeed doth not hold the external use of the thermae so proper, if the distempered be lean and exhausted, (as commonly they are,) as the internal.  
Many such we might find perchance in the lives of reputed Saints: but I will insist in such especially, where there is more certainty, and will be less offence.  
About the year of the Lord 1581. in Germany, at a place called Aldenburgh, it happened that a Baker, the master of a very untoward Boy, upon some great provocation, fell upon him with his fists, without mercy; upon his head especially; so that the Boy fell sick upon it of an epilepsy: whereof he had divers terrible fits, and was twelve days speechless. Yet after a while those fits abated, and by degrees vanished quite away. But then instead of them, he fell into ecstasies, in which he would continue two, three, four hours, without either sense or motion. Assoon as he was out of a fit, the first thing he would do, was to sing divers songs and hymns, (though it was not known that he had ever learned any,) very melodiously. From this singing he would now and then pass abruptly to some strange relations, but especially of such and such, lately dead, whom he had seen in Paradise: and then fall to singing again. But when he was perfectly come to himself, and had left singing, then would he sadly and with much confidence maintain. That he had been, not upon his bed, as they that were present would make him believe; but in heaven with his Heavenly Father, having been carried thither by Angels, and placed in a most pleasant green, where he had enjoyed excessive happiness, and had seen things that he could not express; etc. The same Boy when he foresaw his fit coming upon him, he would say, that now the Angels were ready to carry him away. There were divers relations made of him at that time: but that which I have here, I have it from Joh. Coboldus, a Doctor of physic of the same Town: Divers Epistles of whom, both of his judgement, and of the particulars in point of relation, are to be seen in a book entitled Historia admiranda & prodigiosa Apolloniae Schrierae etc. containing several relations concerning certain persons, maids especially, in several ages and places, but of late years & in Germany chief; which after diligent observation made by learned Divines and Physicians, and long custody in the hands, or by the appointment of Magistrates, have been known, & approved to live divers years without either eating or drinking; set out by one Paul. Lentulus, a Doctor of physic, printed Bernae Helvetiorun, an. dō. 1604. Thuanus also in his History, hath most of them, with some notable particulars, not found in this Collection: not to mention Physicians, as Sennertus, Quereetanus, and others, who writ of the same. But to return to the Boy: That learned Doctor his opinion there is, that they were symptomata morbi melancholici, occasioned by the epilepsy. For that it is natural to those that have been epileptical, to fall into melancholy, besides his own experience, he proves out of Hypocrates. But because this Boy besides his visions, was also reported, and believed commonly, to prophesy many things: the Doctor doth acknowledge himself posed in that, and professeth to doubt, that besides Nature, there might be some operation of the Devil concurring. Wherein nevertheless he seemeth afterwards to have altered his opinion, and to ascribe all partly to Nature, (Ecstasies and Visions,) and partly (prophecies,) to Art and Imposture: not only because the Boy had always been an arrant Rogue, (for his age,) and very subtle and cunning; but also because when he was removed to another house, and more carefully watched, his prophecies did vanish; yea and his ecstasies too, (after a while) as he seemeth to intimate.  
In the same book there is another relation of an ecstatical Maid in Friburg (in Misnia; for there is another Friburg in Helvetia, and a third too, elsewhere;) with the judgement of Paulus Eberus, a Lutheran Divine, a man of great fame in those days. It doth not appear that this maid had any discoverable epilepsy at all, but began at the very first with ecstasies and visions. After her fits, she was full of religious discourse, most in the nature of Sermons, and godly Exhortations: so that she was generally apprehended to be inspired, and her speeches were published in print, under the name of divine prophecies and Warnings. Paulus Eberus was much against it: and though he durst not, against the public voice, affirm that there was nothing of God's spirit in all that she said; yet in effect, he doth plainly enough declare his judgement to be, that the maid did laborare epilepsia, etc. that her ecstasies were epileptical fits, but of a more gentle and remiss kind of epilepsy than is ordinary: and as for her godly speeches, that they were the effects of a godly education, frequent hearing of the Word, intent and assiduous meditation, and the like. which it seems, upon diligent enquiry, he had found to be her case. This happened in the year of the Lord 1560.  
Before I proceed further, I will here insert somewhat, that happened among us here very lately. In September last, on the fifteenth day, there was a Court kept at a place called Bosam, not above one mile or two from Chichester in Sussex: where a worthy Gentleman, and my very good friend, is Steward to the right Honourable (to whom I wish all increase of Honour, that his noble and virtuous mind, whereof myself have had some experience, doth deserve:) GEORGE BERKLEY. I happened to be there: and saw there, before I went away, and spoke with him, one John Carpenter, of the same parish and tithing, where I now dwell and write, between a Yeoman and a Labourer. I observed no alteration at all in the man, having had in the summer months often occasion to speak with him, about some commodities which he sold, and I wanted, for winter provision. The very next day in the morning a daughter of his was at my door; though not to speak with me, but with some others in the house. I happened to open her the door, and observing by her eyes and speech, that she was troubled, I inquired and understood by her, that she was sent to procure some body to go to the Minister of the Parish; her father (she said) not being sick bodily, but talking very strangely of strange things that he had seen so that they could not tell what to make of it. After that the maid had done her errand, & was gone; although I have been very careful ever since I came hither, not to meddle with any businesses of the Parish; but especially not with any thing that belongeth to a spiritual charge, wherein I know how much it concerned my peace and quietness not to intermeddle: yet partly charity, (because the Minister lived in another Parish, at some distance:) & partly curiosity, led me towards the house. When I was come near, before I would go further, I sent one of purpose to know who were there, and whether my coming would be well taken. Whereupon some coming out to me, and desiring me, I went with them, and found the man in a low room walking. I observed nothing, not even then, either in his eyes, or voice, or motion, either so quick, or so loud, that seemed extraordinary. Assoon as I was come in, after some expressions of his good acceptation of my presence, he began a relation of visions and raptures, to this effect: That in the night, God had taken him under the arm, (wherein he was very punctual in all the particulars:) and first had lift him to heaven, where he had seen the joys of Paradise, the glory of God, etc. then carried him to hell, where he had seen such and such things. He was very plentiful of discourse to that purpose: but my mind was so intent upon the general, that I did not much heed particulars: neither indeed did I then think that I should ever have this occasion, to remember any thing that he had said. And it is observable, that even the night before, by his relation to his wife and children in the morning, he had had the same fancies, or very like. He expressed much sense of his former errors of his life, and as much joy that God had been so gracious unto him; not for himself only, but for others also; not doubting but many thousands (those very words he used,) would be converted unto God by his ministry and revelations. This he spoke so zealously, that he fell upon his knees in the middle of the room, to give God thanks, but risen again very soon of his own accord. I commended his zeal and good intentions for others, congratulated unto him the good use that he had made of what had happened unto him for the comfort of his own soul. But when I endeavoured, as gently as I could, to make him understand that he was in some distemper of body, which would require some help; he had not patience to hear me; wondered at my incredulity, if I mistrusted the truth of his relations, or the power of God; and began by degrees to be so hot and earnest, that I judged it altogether impertinent to reason with him any longer. And because I knew the man was no contemplative man, by his profession, nor observed so zealous in point of religion, above others, in his life, that this could probably happen unto him (in which case, though his melancholy would have been more incurable, yet his life in less danger:) through pure contemplative melancholy: I concluded with myself, that it was an effect of some great bodily distemper, which would in time show itself. To that purpose I spoke with his wife by herself, (out of his sight, I mean, but in the presence of some others,) and earnestly advised her speedily to repair to some Physician: for that her husband, I thought, though little sign of it yet, would be very sick; and that I feared he would before long be very outrageous, and would want good keeping, both for his own, and their safety that should be about him. This is all the sight I had of the man since his distemper, whilst he was yet to be seen. Only the next day I met his wife in the street casually, very sad: and was again very earnest with her, that she would do somewhat speedily, and lose no time. What she did, or any others that had to do with him, I cannot give an account. It was reported, that they had given him some strong water, to comfort his heart and strengthen his brain: but I have heard it denied. On the third day, being a Sunday, or Lords day, a woman was sent for, which was reported to have good skill, and to have done some cures upon some, committed unto her in the like case. She would speedily have let him blood, as I have heard, (for by this he was grown very outrageous and violent,) and plied him with other things which she judged proper to his case, to allay his heat, procure sleep, etc. But some of the good women of the Parish, that were there met together, (of the inferior sort,) had, according to their learning and wisdom, concluded among themselves, that the poor man was possessed; and consequently, that if the woman did take upon her to drive out Devils, she must be a witch: that they must not lose a soul (O wisdoms!) to save a body. Certain it is, that the woman was driven out of the house, (though she lay in the Parish that night,) by their insolent language and carriage: and as certain, that the poor man, being in a high fever, and having spent himself in such violent actions and speeches, as are usual to men in that case, having none about him but those that were employed to hold him, and to give him drink as often as he called for it, died that very night.  
But for ignorant people to be bold and confident, and in their confidence to deceive themselves and others, is no wonder at all, a man had need but open his eyes, to see such sights at every door. That which I (not without some indignation sometimes) have wondered at, is; that even learned men, yea men of great fame and credit in the world for their parts and performances in other kinds, have in this particular of Ecstasies and Raptures, been so apt in all ages to be gulled. We had an example before in Tertullian, in whom it might seem the more wonderful, because himself had observed it of some others (lapsed into heresy by it) before him, and condemned them for it. We might find divers instances, with little seeking, if need were. but of all that I have read or known in that kind, I shall pitch upon one above the rest, and make some observations upon it, which may be of some use. That contemplative men, wise and sober otherwise, should become ecstatical themselves, being subject to all infirmities incidental to flesh and blood, as well as others; and by their authority (though in that case, not to be accounted the same men as before,) should deceive others of less learning and judgement, is no strange thing: but that any sober, wise, and learned, whilst sober, wise, and learned, should at any time be liable to the delusions of ignorant and silly people, is not so easy to be believed by them that do not know, that all sciences have their bounds; and that it is very possible, that a man should excel in some one, or more faculties, who yet may be very defective in some other knowledge, not less necessary perchance, though less regarded, or known. I shall be beholding to a Jesuit for the relation, to whom we are beholding for many other relations, wherein he hath approved his fidelity unto many. But however, there is no ground of suspicion in this relation, why we should like it the worse because it comes from a Jesuit. Josephus Acosta is the man; a Spaniard by birth: among whom I believe, if not such examples, yet raptures and ecstasies in general, because naturally devout and contemplative, to be frequent enough. I shall set down his words at large, partly because of the observation I intent upon them, to give the Reader the better satisfaction; and partly because I doubt that the book is not so ordinarily known among us.  There was (saith Acosta, 
Jos. Acosta, de temporibus novis. lib. 2. c. 11. Rom. ed. 1590. p. 54. etc. ) in this very kingdom of Peru (where himself was once Praepositus Generalis,) a man of great esteem in those days, a learned Divine, and Professor (or Doctor) of Divinity. The same also accounted religious and orthodox: yea in a manner, the Oracle, for his time, of this other world, [America.] This man being grown familiar with a certain muliercula [or, plain woman,] which as another Philumena, or Maximilla that Montanus carried about, boasted of herself, that she was taught by an Angel certain great mysteries; and would also fall, (or feign it at least) into trances and raptures, which carried her quite besides herself: he was at last so bewitched and captivated by her, that he did not stick to refer unto her concerning highest points of Divinity; entertain her answers, as Oracles; blaze her abroad, as a woman full of revelations, and very dear unto God; though in very deed a woman, as of mean fortune, so of as mean a capacity otherwise, except it were to forge lies. This woman then, whether really possessed of the Devil, which is most likely, because of those ecstasies; or whether she acted it with art and cunning, as some learned men suspected; because she told him strange things concerning himself, that should come to pass, which his fancy, made yet greater: he did certainly the more willingly apapply himself unto her, to be her disciple, whose ghostly Father he had been before. To be short; he came at last to that, that he would take upon himself to do miracles, and did verily think that he did, when in very deed there was no ground at all for any such thought. For which, and for certain propositions contrary to the Faith, he had received from his prophetess, he was at last, by order of the Judges of the holy Inquisition, to the great astonishment of this whole kingdom, apprehended, and put in prison: where for the space of five years he was heard, tolerated, examined: until at last his incomparable pride and madness was made known unto all men. For whereas he pretended with all possible confidence and pertinacy, that he had a private Angel, of whom he learned whatsoever he desired; yea, that he had been intimate with God himself, and conferred with him personally: he would utter such fopperies as none would believe could proceed from any that were not stark mad: yet in very truth, the man was in perfect sense, as to soundness of brain; as perfect as I myself can think myself, at this time now writing of him. Very sadly and soberly therefore he would affirm, that he should be a King: yea, and Pope too; the Apostolical Sea being translated to those parts: as also that holiness was granted unto him above all Angels, and heavenly hosts, and above all Apostles: yea that God had made proffer unto him of hypostatical union, but that he refused to accept of it. Moreover, that he was appointed to be Redeemer of the world, as to matter of efficacy: which Christ, he said, had been no further then to sufficiency only. That all Ecclesiastical estate was to be abrogated; and that he would make new laws, plain and easy, by which the Coelibatus (or restraint of Marriage) of clergymen should be taken away, multitude of wives allowed, and all necessity of confession avoided. These things, and other things of that nature he would affirm with such earnest confidence, as we were all amazed, that any man could be in his right wits that held such opinions. In fine, after the examination of his actions, and heretical propositions, to the number of a hundred & ten and upwards, either heretical all, or at least not agreeable to the sound doctrine of the Church; as the manner of that High Court is, we were appointed to dispute with him, if possibly we might reduce him to sobriety. We were three in all, besides the Bishop of Quinto, that met before the Judges about it. The man being brought in, did plead his cause with that liberty & eloquence of speech, that I stand amazed to this day, that mere pride should bring a man unto this. He acknowledged that his Doctrine, because above all humane reason, could not be proved but by Scripture, and Miracles. As for Scripture; that he had proved the truth of it by testimonies taken from thence, more clear and more pregnant, then ever Paul had proved Jesus Christ to be the true Messiah by. As for Miracles; that he had done so many and so great, that the Resurrection of Christ itself was not a greater Miracle. For that he had been dead verily and truly, and was risen again; and that the truth of it had been made apparent unto all. All this while, though he had never a book in the Prison, so that even his Breviary was taken away from him, he did quote places of Scripture out of the Prophets, the apocalypse, the Psalms, and other books, so many and so long, that his very memory caused great admiration. But these places he did so apply to his fancies, and did so allegorise them, that any that heard him must needs either weep or laugh. But lastly, if we did yet require Miracles, that he was ready to be tried by them. And this he spoke as either certainly mad himself, or accounting us all mad. For that by revelation it was come to his knowledge, he said, that the Serenissimus John of Austria was vanquished by the Turks upon the Seas: that Philip the most puissant King of Spain, had lost most part of his kingdom: that a Council was held at Rome, about the deposition of Pope Gregory, and another to be chosen in his place. That he told us these things, whereof we had had certain intelligence, because we might be sure that they could not be known unto himself, but by immediate divine revelation. All which things, though they were so false that nothing could be more, yet still were they affirmed by him, as certainly known unto us. But at last, having disputed with him two days to no effect at all, being led out, with some others (as the fashion is in Spain) to be made a public Spectacle; he ceased not to look up to Heaven, expecting (as it seems the Devil had promised him,) that fire would come to consume both Inquisitors, and Spectators all. But in very deed, no such fire came from above; but a flame came from below, which seized upon this pretended King, and Pope, and Redeemer, and new lawgiver, and quickly did reduce him into ashes. 
In this relation, the first thing I shall take notice of, which to me seemeth very strange, is, that neither Acosta himself, nor any of those grave men and Judges by him mentioned, did seem to know, that there is a sober kind of distraction or melancholy: not such only wherein the brain is generally affected to all objects equally; never outrageous, nor out of reason, as it were, to outward appearance; but also where the distemper is confined to some one object or other, the brain being otherwise very sound and sober upon all other objects and occasions. I need not go so fare as Aristotle for an instance, though to be found in him, or at least, in that book that beareth his name, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. which by Horace, 
— Fuit haud ignobilis Argis,  
Qui se credebat, etc.—  is very elegantly rendered in Latin verses. We need not go so fare, either for an instance, or for his authority: there is not any Physician, either ancient or late, that treateth of Melancholy, but doth both acknowledge it, and hath several examples. Laurentius in his treatise of melancholic diseases, hath one whole Chapter of examples, whereof some were of his own time and knowledge. As that of a nobleman, that otherwise had his senses very perfect, and would discourse (as Laurentius observeth) of any subject very rationally; but that he was persuaded that he was glass; would keep himself still in a chair: and though he loved to be visited, yet was very much afraid of his friends, when they came to him, lest they should come too near him. And of another, a Poet, yet then alive when he wrote, and not yet cured, who was persuaded that all men that came near him, smelled of a certain ointment that had been used about him in a fever, to make him sleep; which he did ever since extremely detest and abhor: insomuch that no man might speak to him, but at a distance: and if any man had touched him, he would cast away his clothes, and never wear them again. Yet in all other things, saith my Author, very rational, and as good a Poet as ever. Fyenus also out of divers Authors, hath divers examples in his Treatise De viribus imaginationis. Sennertus treats of it, lib. 1. part. 2. c. 8. de melancholia in genere: wherein Aretaeus, an ancient Physician, his words are, In melancholia, in una re aliqua est lapsus; constant in reliquis judicio. He hath a merry example out of Huartus his Examen de Ingen. of one, a noble man's footboy in Italy, that thought himself a Monarch. But Laurentius, in the forenamed Treatise and Chapter, professeth to forbear of purpose such instances, because so common and obvious. Indeed, I remember to have read in Antony du Verdier his Divers Readins, two notable examples: the one of an ordinary servingman, that thought himself Pope; the other of a Groom, that belonged to an Italian nobleman, who thought himself Emperor, and at a certain hour of the day would lock himself in a chamber privately, there place himself in a chair of State, such as himself had erected to that purpose, give answers to ambassadors of several Nations, make speeches upon divers subjects, (some of which speeches were taken clancularly, there inserted;) and perform many other acts to the same purpose. I myself in my life time, have known one, (yet alive for aught I know,) who upon apprehension of great wrong done unto him by some in Authority, fell into some hypochondriacal conceits much of that nature. sober and discreet otherwise, in all his conversation: only upon that subject he would be very earnest; and if opposed, grow fierce. A man might have conversed with him long enough, before he should have discovered any thing; for he was purposely very reserved: and except a man had been acquainted with his case by others, not apt of himself to fall upon it: so much command he had of himself, notwithstanding his melancholy. But I knew him very familiarly, and therefore can speak of him with more confidence. I mentioned Aristotle, at the beginning, concerning Melancholy confined to a particular Object. Though I did not think it needful to make use of his instance; yet that instance of his puts me in mind of a strange case, not unworthy to be related: of a kind of tragical, or poetical Melancholy, that is reported to have happened unto many together, almost to a whole town, at one time. Lucian is my Author, a man otherwise not very apt to believe strange things: a right Infidel in most things, as well to all nature's wonders, as to supernatural and divine. And he tells it in good earnest, in a very serious discourse of his, Of the conditions of a true History, at the very beginning of it. Most of the town Abdera (in Greece) in such a man's reign, as is there expressed, fell into a kind of Fevers at one time. At the seventh day, some bleeding at the nose, some sweeting in their bodies very plentifully were quitted of their agues: but became (in a degree) maddish of the stage, and were perpetually acting some part of a Tragedy. Lucian's opinion upon it (if it were his own, and not part of his History;) is very probable. There was an excellent Tragedian in the Town, who had lately represented a play called Andromede. It was in the very middle of summer; and it happened to be an extraordinary hot day. So that partly with hearing with great intention of mind, and thronged besides in their bodies, most of them probably, at such a concourse of the whole town, it is no wonder if they fell into fevers: and in their fevers, (as it is very natural,) what they had so lately heard with great admiration, occurring to their minds, and making (as at such a time, when the spirits are quickened by the heat of the fever, is most natural too,) great impression; no wonder if the effects of that impression continued, even after the fever, for a long time: till the winter time, and a very great frost that happened, wiped it away. I cannot warrant the truth of this relation, otherwise then as I have said. but other things of the same nature I can, and shall impart to the Reader, which will be warranted by good authority; which I myself wonder at much more, and yet can give some reasons to myself, why I can believe them possible and true. It seemeth strange unto me, that this conceited Melancholy, being nothing else but mere conceit, (in common opinion,) should have so real an operation upon the senses, as in some cases it hath. Zacuthus Lusitanus, for example, tells of one, that fancied unto himself that he was very cold; bemoaned himself both night and day, and would have cast himself into the fire many times, had not he been bound with chains to keep him from it: being persuaded except his body were burnt, he should never be warm. At last he was cured (Zacuthus himself did the cure:) by an excessive artificial heat, which would have made another roar, but made him leap and dance for joy, and in time, acknowledge that he was warm, and after that acknowledgement, sound. It is not improbable that he had felt some great cold, either waking or sleeping, by which he was much affected, the species whereof might remain in his memory; which being stirred up and quickened by his imagination, might cause some reality of sense. So they, not all, but some, as is observed by that Treasurer of rare Observations, Ambrose Pareus, (I have met with the observation, out of him in Sennertus: but long before, when but a Boy, I remember well that I heard a very learned Physician, a man of excellent parts in some other faculties, Raphael Thorius, discourse upon that subject from his own experience: not upon his own body, I do not mean; but upon some that had been his Patients:) some then, I say, that have had a Foot, or a Leg, or any other member cut off, have complained long after of the very pains that they suffered in that very part, before it was cut off. So that I conceive that there may be some reality of sense, where there is no reality of hurt: except a man may die also without any reality of sense; it being a case tried and granted, that some men have been put to death by the conceit of death, being struck only with a little wand, or a wet role of cloth, when they expected they should have been struck with a naked sword. So we read of one that fancied unto himself, that he was so big of body, 
Fyenus, de virib. Imagine.  that no door was wide enough for him. He was forced violently, that is, against his will, (for many are often cured by such experiments;) through a door, wide enough for a greater body: but he was not cured of his conceit; but conceiting that his body had been by that violence extremely squeezed and bruised, complained much of pain, and died. I believe that there is more than bare imagination in such cases, to cause such effects; though imagination be the original cause. But the further consideration of this I will leave to learned Physicians: somewhat I will add of mine own experience, which may contribute somewhat to their speculations. When a young Scholar in the University, I used swings often. they are prescribed for health; but I used them as much for pleasure: and I remember I have read somewhere, that Asclepiades, who prescribed nothing but pleasing remedies, did cure many diseases by such jactations. I have dreamt often that I was swinging; or without swings, floating, as it were, in the air. I am certain that I have found in my sleep that very ease, or pleasingness (if I may so call it,) of the whole body, that I did when I was really swinging: and I have thought after I was awaked, (a good while after,) that my body was the better for it. Again, I have been in the cold water against my will twice, in boats that sunk to the ground: (whereof in due time, as of some other things in point of nature strange, if not miraculous, that have happened unto me in my life, I may perchance give some account to the world:) I have dreamt that I was in the water, & thought I felt cold. but of this I cannot speak so much, because not often, as of my nocturnal imaginary swinging or flying, which doth happen very often.  
I hope the Reader will not be offended with this digression: which in very deed is no digression; such distempers of the brain, as we have hitherto spoken of, falling very naturally within the consideration of enthusiasm: and besides, as they confer to the clearing of other obscure matters, that have or shall be treated of, not impertinent, even so.  
Now to return to Acosta and his example: When that poor man so confidently averred himself as destinated to be a King or a Pope, or when he confidently bragged of his miracles, and wondered at the perverseness of his Judges for not acknowledging the truth of that which seemed unto him, though not unto any other but himself, so truly visible and palpable; as that of his resurrection, of John Duke of Austria, of the king of Spain, and the like: whether in such a case and condition, he might as truly be conceived, as is confidently affirmed, in his right wits, since Acosta thought fit to make the case public, he must give every man leave, if not to judge, yet to consider. Though it can do him no good whom he writes of; yet it may concern divers others, who in their melancholy (as many have done, and do daily, if we may credit Laurentius;) may conceit themselves Popes and Emperors, and perchance assume the Titles too, and yet no dangerous men, nor liable, if they meet not with very severe Judges, to any other judgement, then to be laughed at by some, (which is uncharitable enough, since it is a common chance,) and to be pitied by others. But if a man should be found and convicted, whilst in his right wits, through excess of ambition to have tampered (which is done sometimes) with either men or Devils, by secret unlawful plots and projects, to compass a Crown, or a Mitre: though that man afterwards, by continual and vehement intention of his mind upon the same subject, should crack his brain, and believe himself really, what he had long endeavoured wickedly; I doubt whether the innocency of his belief (as a distracted man,) would acquit him from the unlawfulness of his attempts, when a sound man, which brought him to that distraction. So if a man, neither factious in his life, nor abettor of strange Opinions, when himself, in a fit of a burning fever, or through some proper distemper of the brain, occasioned by a melancholic constitution of body or otherwise, should fall into a conceit, and speak accordingly, that he is Christ, or God, or the like; I think he should have hard measure, if he should be punished as a Blasphemer. But if he bring himself to this through excess of spiritual pride, and self-conceit, but especially, by using such indirect courses, little better than witchcraft, as private Revelations and Enthusiasms; as I desire not to be judge in such cases, so I think it may be spoken by any man without presumption, that they that are condemned to suffer for it by others, do not suffer innocent. For truly my opinion is, that it is no less than absolute renunciation of the Gospel, and Faith of Christ; and the ready way, I am sure, to bring in mahometism, or if any thing can be worse; after the Gospel, and faith of Christ once delivered, to pretend to new Lights, and to seek after Revelations in matters of Faith and Doctrine. God make me constant to that profession of Tertullian, falling from which himself, he became an heretic, and a persecutor of the Catholic Church by his writings: Nobis curiositate opus non est post Christum Jesum; 
Tertul. advers. haer. cap. 4.  nec inquisitione post Evangelium. Cum credimus, nihil desideramus ultra credere: hoc enim prius credimus, non esse quod ultra credere debeamus. There can be nothing plainer: yet for their sakes that understand nothing but English, I will English the words. There is no need of curiosity [after Oracles, or Prophets, or Philosophers, to teach the way to happiness;] after Christ Jesus: nor of inquisition, after his Gospel. When we profess ourselves to believe, [being well grounded by good catechising, etc. in the Christian faith,] all our desires, and all our endeavours in point of believing, are at end. For even that we believed, before we professed, that nothing more was to be believed, then barely that which we should profess.  
But this is somewhat besides my subject, and purpose too, however I am fallen upon it. What Courts of Justice have determined in these cases, doth not concern us; but what learned Naturalists. And here I meet with an objection, which I must remove, or recant part of what I have said. Some Physicians in their Consultations and Resolutions seem to say, 
Jul. Caes. Claudini, Consultat. medic. Resp. 21.  as Acosta doth in his relation, that in such distempers the intellectus is integer, that is, the understanding sound. That some Physicians say so, I should make no great matter of it: they may have their opinions as well as other men; and there be of all professions that affect it. But it troubles me, that Galen should be named for one of that opinion. The case related out of him, is of one Theophilus, who did fancy to himself, that he both saw and heard some Minstrels in a corner of his Chamber, and could not rest for them: otherwise it seems, both before and after his recovery, very rational in all other things. Hereupon it is determined, that it was an error of his imagination only, and not of his understanding. I would not contend about words. If their meaning be, that the Imagination and the Intellect being different faculties, really different by place and proprieties, and liable to particular symptoms and distempers; that in such cases the distemper originally and inherently is in the imaginative, not intellective faculty, though the error by reason of that relation, or subordination which is between the two, be communicated to the understanding: though I know there is matter enough of dispute about the differences and proprieties of each faculty, yet I shall not oppose any thing. To some other purposes, the difference may be very observable. It may satisfy a man, how it comes to pass that the understanding should be so right in all others, though so wrong in one particular object: whereas if the distemper were in the ratiocinative itself, the distraction would be general. Neither is every error of the imagination an error of the understanding. For we fancy many things awaked, as in the water, or in the clouds, which our reason doth oppose, & therefore we believe not. Nay sometimes in our very dreams, reason doth oppose fancy, and informs us, that what we wonder at, or fear, is but a dream, because impossible or absurd; when yet that very information is part of our dream. But if once any particular imagination be so strong & violent as to force assent from the understanding, so that no power of ratiocination that is left in us, is strong enough to make us believe that it is otherwise then we imagine: is not this a depravation of the Understanding, as well as of the Imagination? Or what if the Imagination be altogether depraved, and a man, not out of any proper distemper of understanding, (for that is as possible as the other,) but of the imagination, in every thing that he saith or doth, both speak and do like a mad man; shall not he be accounted mad? I will believe that Galen intended it not otherwise then as I have explained it until I have better considered of his words in himself, which now I have not the opportunity to do; or that I meet with further reason, to satisfy me that it is so as some make him to say, than any I have yet met with.  
As for the muliercula, or simple woman, the cause of this man's infatuation; whether she were really possessed, or a counterfeit, or whether ecstatical from some natural cause; because we find so little of her in the relation to help our inquisition, I must let her alone. It is certain, that many that fall into those fits, naturally, or, to speak more plainly, from natural causes, fancy to themselves heavens, and angels, and revelations of mysteries, very really; and are in a better capacity, through the agitation of the brain and purest spirits, (as in Fevers, many,) after their fits, to speak and discourse of many things, than they were before. It is not so in all, I know: some become more stupid: but in some it is so; and whether it were this woman's case particularly, I know not. But I leave her: and before I proceed to new matter, I must insert a caveat. In the case of Witches in general there is much dispute among learned men, (as, whether corporally transported from place to place, etc.) of the power of the imagination. I would not have any thing that hath been said by me, to be drawn to that case, which I apprehend to be a quite different case. For it is certain, (if any thing be certain in the world,) that most Witches, though they may suffer depravation, or illusion rather of fancy, in some other things; wittingly and willingly, in perfect use of sense and reason, and upon apparent grounds of envy, malice, revenge, and the like, do many mischiefs. But if any supposed Witch, being accused by others, or any that should acknowledge herself to be such, should not or cannot be convicted legally, to do, or to have done any thing worthy of death; such a one though she should tell many strange things of herself, which may be thought to deserve death, yet I should not think it very safe to condemn her, without better evidence than her own confession, or testimony.  
After so much of Ecstasies, which are the proper passion of the Mind or Understanding, and so most naturally the effects of Contemplation, which is the proper and supreme operation of the understanding: we shall now proceed to the consideration of two notable controversies, which will much conduce to the further clearing of these hidden mysteries, and lead us to the main business of this Chapter.  
The first is, Whether it may be conceived possible in nature, for any man, whether by the advantage of some idiosyncrisia, (more commonly, but not so truly written, idiosyncratia,) that is, some peculiar natural property, some secret sympathy or antipathy, or the like; of which kind of idiosyncrisiae there be so many rare examples in Physicians and Philosophers, as may seem in point of crediblenesse to surpass the greatest wonders in the world; whether then, by some such help or advantage (if it may be so called,) of nature, or by some contracted propriety by long use and endeavour, it may be thought possible in nature, without the concurrence of any supernatural cause, for any one man or woman to put themselves into a Trance, or ecstasy, when they will.  
The second, Whether in any Trance or ecstasy of the mind, whether voluntary or involuntary, a true and real separation of the Soul from the Body for a time, be a thing possible in nature.  
For the first question; I find Avicenne, (an ancient Arab, of great credit among all; by some preferred above all other Philosophers, or Physicians;) quoted by some, concerning one, who besides some other extraordinary properties, nothing to our purpose, could put himself into a fit of palsy when he would. And if that were granted, there would be no great question of the possibility of voluntary Trances: it being a thing (in ordinary judgement) of equal facility in point of nature, to fill the Ventricles of the Brain with pituitous (or whatever Physicians will make them,) humours, and to empty them at pleasure; and to command certain humours into the chine of the back, and nerves, to be recalled again at will. So that if the one may be arbitrary in some one or other by some propriety of temper etc. the other may as probably. But I will not much insist upon this example, because of the uncertainty. I think there is no body almost, that pretends to learning or curiosity in any kind of nature and Philosophy, but hath heard, or read of Restitutus, an African Priest, in S. Augustine; who with the help of a mournful tone, or lamenting voice, whether real or counterfeit, would presently fall into a perfect ecstasy, so that he would not stir at all for any punching or pricking, though to a considerable wound: no, nor at the applying of fire; except perchance a man had applied so much, as to have endangered his life. So much perchance might be thought somewhat, to make faith of a real Trance. We heard before out of Thuanus, what a mighty matter was made of it, that a Maid should endure patiently (without any sign of sense, I mean,) the driving of pins or needles into some fleshy parts. But S. Augustine had more experience in the world then so. Besides that common precedent of the Lacedaemonian Boys and Girls, he had observed with many Philosophers, (yea and Civilians,) how far man or woman's resolute obstinacy could go in point of suffering. That his reader therefore might be fully satisfied, that it was no juggling business, but a true, real, perfect ecstasy, he addeth; Non autem obnitendo sed non sentiendo, non movere corpus eo probatur, quod tanquam in defuncto nullus inveniebatur anhelitus; hominum tamen voces, si clarius loquerentur, etc. that is, (but I must let the Reader know by the way, that the Edition of S. Augustine, the only I have at this time, is very ancient; almost as ancient as printing is; being the Venice edition of Petrus de Tarvisio, 1475. for which I like it not the worse, I confess: yet thought good to give the Reader notice, in case, as oftentimes, there should be found any thing different in later Editions, though commonly for the worst: 
August. De Civ. Dei: l. 14. c. 24. ) Now that this his not stirring of his body at all those things, happened not through a resolute obstinacy, (such as by ancient Heathens was commonly objected to Christian Martyrs; but very impertinently, it being both in regard of the number, and divers other circumstances, a quite different case:) or opposition of the mind; but merely because he did not feel; was certainly known, because all this while no breath was found in him, no more than if he had been quite dead. Yet the same man, if any body with a very loud voice had spoken or called unto him, he would acknowledge afterwards, when come to himself, that he had heard some kind of noise, as if it were afar off. But this indeed S. Augustine doth not relate as a thing that himself had seen: no; but yet as a thing of very fresh memory, a verred unto him by many that had seen it, and whom he doth profess (experti sunt: as of a thing that he made no question:) to believe. And truly I for my part must acknowledge, that I give more credit to this relation of S. Augustine, then to Cardan his testimony concerning either himself, or his Father: though Bodinus is well content to believe it, 
Bodin. Theat. Nat. p. 503.  and partly grounds upon it as unquestionable. It was in their power, he saith, to abstract their souls from their bodies, when they would. The possibility whereof, except he meant it of an absolute separation, although I do not absolutely deny: yet that such a thing should be believed upon his bare testimony, hominis ventosi ingenii, as Scaliger of him somewhere, a man ever ambitious to tell strange things, to be admired by others; I see no just ground.  
Well, but experientia fallax. 
The words I know may have another meaning, as commonly interpreted. but this too may be right enough, and is warrantable by other places in Hypocrates.  It is his caveat, who of a wise man (and much the wiser for it, certainly,) adscribed as much to experience as ever man did: and therefore so earnestly exhorteth all young Physicians, not to neglect the experiments, & advises grounded upon experiments, even of the most illiterate of the world. I doubt therefore, whether we may build so much upon two or three examples, though attested by very good authority, as to make an absolute inference, without some further reasoning. I find that Tho. Fyenus, a very learned Physician, who hath published a very rational and scholastical Treatise, Concerning the power of the Imagination, doth express himself peremptorily upon the point, on the negative: Ea (of this very instance out of S. Aug.) vel arte Diabolica, vel fallacia aliqua contigisse; vel alias impossibilia esse. But I profess to wonder much at this his determination; and whether without cause, I shall make the reader judge. For first, the question is not whether the bare Imagination can do it immediately, which is contrary to the course of nature; as is well showed by him throughout his Treatise: but whether the Imagination, or any other Power depending on the Will, by the subordination of other Faculties; as by stirring up some Passion, and the like. And so himself doth grant, that many Diseases be caused by the Imagination; as particularly the Plague: which though it be particularly acknowledged by him, yet for the Readers further satisfaction, I will here add another learned Physician his words, who is generally thought to have written of all contagious diseases, as learnedly & solidly as any man. His words are very express. Ex animi perturbationibus iracundia, 
Palmar. de morbis contag. p. 311.  etc. that is; As we have said, that among the Passions of the mind, Anger, Terror and Grief are not without danger: so do we now declare, that fear of the Plague, and intent cogitation about it, do often bring it; and bear witness, that many perfectly sound before, being struck with a sudden fright and fear of it, were presently taken, and little after died; upon no other ground or cause as my opinion is, but this, that vehement and intent cogitation of the mind, and continued imagination, whilst they do strongly affect the heart, they do at the same time imprint and engrave in it that very thing, which is so much feared and thought upon. And to this purpose I remember very well, that I did once, when very young, hear that worthy Raphael Thorius, mentioned before, who continued in London all the Plague-time 1603. hear him, I say, with great admiration, tell of many particulars; of men and women to his knowledge, and in his sight walking, sitting, talking in perfect health; at some outward sight, or unseasonable relation, or the like, suddenly taken. Some might except, that their fear was not the cause of the Plague; but the unsensible grudge or beginnings of the Plague in their bodies, rather cause of their fear: as when a man dreameth of some smart pain; not the dream, often, is the cause of the pain, but the pain of the dream. No; that cannot be, by divers instances which he did allege. For then, their fear proceeding from an inward cause, would have been without any external provocation: whereas in all those examples, some external provocations were the first, and only apparent cause. Yet I will not deny, but that probably there might be a concurrence of both in some of those many instances. But now to Fyenus again. Some can weep when they will: that he doth not deny; no man indeed can deny it. I know what Poets and Comicks do write of all women in general; but I will not make use of their authority, neither do I believe it true. But they that have read of Burials and Funerals in ancient Authors, cannot but take some notice of the mulieres praeficae among the Romans, (and such there were among other nations; as among the Jews particularly:) who though they were but hired with money to weep, and did without all doubt rejoice, more or less, in their hearts for the occasion, it being their profession, by which they maintained their own life: would nevertheless so mightily and so naturally weep, that many that saw them, though they knew well enough that they did it merely for their hire, and forcedly, and had otherwise no mind nor occasion themselves; yet could not forbear to do as they did. Now were it so as Fyenus seems elsewhere to determine, that a voluntary ecstasy were nothing else but humoris pituitosi in cerebri ventriculos & substantiam intromissio & inductio; as he defineth arbitrary weeping by Seri pro imperio motio: truly I should think it might easily be inferred, that the one (as to natural possibility) might be as well as the other; so that the one being granted by him, the other could not in reason be affirmed impossible. But I will dispute against myself in this, for the truth, as I apprehend it. For as I conceive every true, natural, and perfect ecstasy, to be a degree or species of epilepsy: so I subscribe to Sennertus, and other Physicians, who besides ordinarily known humours, maintain that there is a different specific epileptical humour, or quality, as yet unknown unto men, which is the immediate cause of Epilepsies.  
But lastly, Fyenus seems to me in some degree, if not to contradict, yet to be inconstant unto himself. For whereas he doth there so peremptorily determine it as impossible: in this his second Question, Concl. 11. where he hath the same instances at large, he proposeth them there as things that might happen indeed, but (praeter communem cursum naturae,) besides the ordinary course of nature; not as supernatural, (lest any should mistake) but ex particulari aliquorum hominum proprietate, & singulari corporis conformatione: though indeed, even there at the last he concludes with a doubt; sed forte etiam aliqua corum arte magica etc. aliqua forte etiam non sunt vera. which I take to be a fare more discreet and judicious determination, than his impossible afterwards. Which to make yet more probable unto my Reader, since it is granted that strange things may be done by some, through peculiar natural properties, my course would be, as I take it, to look into those many examples of idiosyncrisiae, which I find in good Authors: whether among them we might not find divers things, which might seem every whit as strange as those controverted Ecstasies. But because I desire not to be overlong, and that I would not glut the Reader with strange stories; among whom some will be found, perchance, of Lucian's temper, who not valuing the authority of most credible Authors, will account all fabulous that themselves have not seen or known; I shall forbear. Yet for their sakes that may be more candid and curious, I shall mention two books which I read but lately, (for which I was beholding, as for divers others, to a worthy Friend, a Doctor and Professor of physic, in Chichester:) the one, Henrici à Heers his Observationes medicae; the other, Dan. Sennerti lib. 6. de morbis à fascino, incantatione, etc. published long after his other works: which two books, if my memory deceive me not, will competently furnish them with such examples. But to let that pass, and the advantage that we might make of it. That some can bring themselves to that, as to weep when they will, as we said before, is granted: and S. Augustine in the same chapter professeth himself to have seen one▪ that could sweat (without any motion, or any other ordinary means,) when he would: and this also by Fyenus is granted as possible: and Julius Scaliger in his Exercitations against Cardan, writes of one, as very well known unto him, that could not hold his water, if he heard any play upon a Lute or Harp: and I have it from persons of credit, that professed to have seen a woman, that could make herself blush when she would. That a man may by intent imagination or cogitation, bring himself to a vertigo, as will make him fall to the ground, and trouble his brain very much, best Physicians do affirm: nay, that a great fright in tender bodies, (as women with child,) and intent imagination, is enough to beget διάθεσιν Epilepticam, is observed by Guil. Fabricius, Cent. 3. Observ. 3. to whom Sennertus doth assent. Have there not been men or women, boys or girls, & children in the world, who at the very remembrance of some very sad or terrible thing, that had happened unto them in their life, would fall into a swoon, whether they would or no? How much more if they affected it, and after some two or three unvoluntary fits, finding some disposition in themselves to it, and aiming at some advantage by it, or proposing to themselves some other end, used means by intent cogitation or otherwise, to bring themselves into a habit of it? Is there any thing in this impossible? If I should rub up mine own memory, I could tell of many things that I have known in my time in that kind. But why should not I (in things so ordinary) leave all men to their own experience? This is somewhat rare, that I remember to have read in Benevenius, De abditis morborum causis, etc. (a book for the bigness, as full of choice Observations, as any I have seen; of whom and of his Observations, we shall have occasion to say more in some other Chapter:) of a Boy, who having been frighted by some strange apparition, whether real, or conceited, was wont from that very day, & almost hour, every 8th day to fall into the same horrors & outcries, which he had then suffered and used; from which he could never be cured, as long as he lived: but it seems it brought him into a speedy consumption, so that he did not live very long after it.  
More I know may be found to the same purpose: but I think I have said enough to conclude, that granting what must be granted, and doth often happen in the world, besides the ordinary course of nature, yet by causes that are natural, as such and such an idiosyncrisia, and the like; a voluntary ecstasy is not a thing impossible in nature.  
But I have not yet done. There is somewhat else to be said, that may seem to conduce very much to this our present inquiry: and though I myself shall make no great matter of it, yet some body else may; and think, it would have stood me in great stead. Giraldus Cambrensis, a Briton by birth, though by descent rather an Englishman, or Nor-man, as he makes himself, but a very learned man for those times, in his Description of Wales, chapter 16. tells us of a certain company, frequent in those days, in Wales, commonly called awenyd hion; that is, ecstatical, or ment ducti, according to Giraldus his interpretation. These men, it seems, according to his relation, could put themselves into a trance when they would: that is, as often as any came to them to consult them as Prophets. Two things especially Giraldus would have us to take notice of: the one, that they did not use to come to themselves again, except some kind of violence were used, to recall and awaken them, as it were: and then secondly, that after they were come to themselves, they remembered nothing at all they had either said or done in their fits. He makes them to have been a race of the Trojan Soothsayers, among whom and their posterity, the Britons, only, he would have us to believe such Prophets have been. Yet again he doth argue, and would have us to believe that they prophesied by the spirit too, and to that end instances in divers, who though Infidels, though lewd in their conversations, have had the gift of prophecy. And such also he maketh the Merlin's to have been. I can easily be persuaded. that Giraldus wrote as himself believed; not out of any design, as many have done, to abuse his Reader. It appeareth by the many Miracles wherewith he hath stuffed his Itinerarium, that he was a man of very easy belief: which was the epidemical disease of those times of Ignorance, when all Piety almost consisted in telling and making of Miracles. And what might not he believe, who did believe that Alexander of Macedon, though long before those miraculous times, had removed the Caspian mountains, and enclosed within them, as within walls, the ten tribes of Israel; not to be removed from thence till the coming of Enoch and Elias? I do not say that he was the Author of this pretty Fable: but that he had credulity enough to believe it; and by consequent not to be wondered at, if he believed many other things, that may probably be supposed as true. But truly I think we are much beholding to his fidelity. For had he been of the temper of some others, he would have added somewhat of his own, to make his story more strange; which might have troubled us. But now as he describeth them, we may believe him, so fare as he speaks of himself; and yet know them (be it spoken without any disparagement to that ancient noble people; since there is no nation in the world but hath store of such:) know them, I say, for arrant Jugglers and Impostors. For there is not any thing in the whole relation, but might easily be performed by any ordinary Gipsy. And the like we may as probably conclude of those dancing Enthusiasts, by him elsewhere mentioned and described in his itinerarium. As for his Merlin's, if they were not others than the Merlin's of our days, it will require no long deliberation to determine what they were. But we know ours, that now are, well enough: but as for them that were, I leave them to them that know more of them then I do, to judge of them.  
Neither shall I need to say any thing of the Turkish Enthusiasts, the Darvisei, or Torlaces, who, as I find them described in some Turkish Histories, have (some of them) much resemblance with those in Giraldus, as to their pretended Fits and Raptures: but such lewd abominable Rascals otherwise, that were it not that we see among Christians also how inclinable the common sort of people are to be carried with any pretence of Religion, though the actions be never so irreligious and contrary to that which is pretended; it would be incredible that such monsters should be suffered in a Commonwealth: much more incredible, that with so much zeal and devotion, as men of God and holy Prophets, they should be worshipped and adored, as they are there by many. Strange stories may be read in Leo Africanus, in his 3. book of the Description of afric; Diversae regulae ac sectae, etc. p. 135. to this purpose; whereof he professeth himself to have been eyewitness: but nothing more strange, than what Germany hath seen, and any other country may, where anabaptistical Enthusiasts are tolerated, and from toleration come in time to prevail and rule.  
I will not make a question of it to dispute it; for I have but little to say for it: but I desire only to propose it, that learned Naturalists and Physicians may (if they please) consider of it; Whether it be probable or possible, that natural Ecstasies and Enthusiasms, such as proceed from natural causes merely, should be contagious: though not contagious in the same manner as the Plague, or the Pox is; yet contagious in their kind. Neither indeed are all contagious diseases, contagious in one kind. A mad dog is not contagious with his Breath: Fracastorius, that hath written of that subject, saith with his Teeth only; and not except some blood be drawn. But it is not my purpose to inquire into the truth of that now: I would only suppose, that all diseases that are contagious, are not contagious in the same manner. The chiefest ground of my suspicion is, the history of those ancient heretics, who were commonly known under the name (for they had many others besides, as Enthusiasts, etc.) of Messaliani, a Syriack word; that is, Euchites, or Prayers: because they were wont to pray themselves into raptures and ecstasies, of which we shall speak more in its proper place. But that I have here to say of them is, that whereas this strange Sect (as most others) began by a few; it did in time so spread and prevail, that whole Monasteries, whole towns, and almost Countries were infected with it. Neither could any other cure be found, but absolute destruction. Which may seem strange, that that wherein the happiness and perfection of a Christian, being well used, doth chief consist; as being that which bringeth man nearest unto God; through abuse and excess, should become liable to the punishment of highest crimes. But in this quaere we go upon a wrong ground, I know, if it be conceived that those men were really possessed, as some have thought anciently. For my part, I see no cause to believe it; but I leave every man free. I propose it to them that shall be of my opinion, as I doubt not but some will be: and we shall say more afterwards of it, in due place.  
II. Our second question which we proposed, is, Whether through any natural ecstasy, the Soul may really quit the body, and then return. I shall begin with the consideration of what some Ancients have thought and written. But before that, I must profess that I do not, in such high points, ascribe so much unto ancient Heathens, except it be some of the most solid and rational among them, as to think their opinion in a serious discourse, a sufficient ground for a Quaere; much less, for a Conclusion. But since that I find that some Christians, men of good learning and great fame, have not only largely disputed, but in conclusion affirmed it; I think I should not give my Reader that satisfaction that he might expect from me, if before I come to them and their Arguments, I should not tell him, who before them, whether heathen or others, that are come to my knowledge, or present remembrance, have concurred with them in their opinion: and the rather, because it is not unlikely that themselves might be the bolder to publish what they maintained, because they found they were not the first that had been of that opinion. Ancient Heathens, whether Philosophers or others, that did believe such a separation possible, seem to ground especially upon a story, that passed among them for very current and true; of one Hermotimus Clazomenius, whose soul, they say, was wont to wander into fare places, the body, mean while, being as still and senseless as if it had been a dead body. The matter, it seemeth, when ever it happened, was very public; and therefore passed to posterity with less control. There is nothing in Pliny's relation of it, (for the matter of fact,) but is possible enough, and might well be conceived to have proceeded from some natural cause. Physicians are agreed upon it; and they ground it upon certain experience, that a man in ecstasi melancholica, or a woman in hysterica passione, may be gone three days, and come to themselves again. Therefore they strictly forbidden in such cases to bury ante biduum exactum; quod quosdam ferè triduo elapso revixisse observatum sit: as Sennertus of women particularly. Tertullian De anima cap. 51. hath a story of a Woman that stirred her arms when she was carried to be buried. It seemeth by him, that he was present when it happened: but it was looked upon as a thing merely supernatural and miraculous; and so the woman was buried nevertheless; which, perchance, if then taken up and well tended, might have recovered to perfect life, without a miracle. Now that a man or woman after such a fit, in course of nature, should tell strange things, which he hath seen, yea and foretell (though this be rare;) some things to come; is not so much to be wondered at, that it should be thought incredible. I find the relation concerning this Hermotimus, in Apollonius, Περὶ κατεψευσμένης ἱστορίας. cap..... more full: but there indeed much improved, as such things use to be by time; and altogether incredible. There days, (as probably in the first relation,) are made years: two or three days perchance, many years, beyond all sense and reason. For though I will not dispute it here, whether it may not fall out in nature, that a man may sleep some months, (which is written of a whole country in the North, as natural unto the people of that country, and is not contradicted by some eminent Physicians:) or years; for which I know much may be said, as well as for living divers years without any food, which of the two, in point of reason might seem more impossible; and yet is certainly known to have happened, even of late years, unto many: Yet for a body to lie so long destitute of a Soul and of all natural functions, and not to be dead, is not conceivable in nature. As for those particulars of his predictions in the said Apollonius, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: all these things proceeding from natural causes, which have operations long before upon some creatures; from the diligent observation of which operations, skilful Naturalists also sometimes foresee and foretell them; (of which we have spoken in the former Chapter;) I would not stick much at that, as is intimated before. But as my purpose is only for the truth, so I must remove one objection, that may be made from the Author I have named. His very title (Περὶ κατεψ. ἱστορ..) promises only Fables. Yet it is certain that he hath inserted divers things, which are asserted by best Historians; as Meursius himself in his Preface to the reader, out of Phlegon, doth observe. But besides, that bare alteration of days into years, was enough and more then enough, to turn a Truth into a Fable. Tertullian De an. c. 44. hath some conjectures about this Hermotimus; but not any either in themselves very probable, or to us here. at all considerable.  
Plutarch in his Treatise of the Slackness of God's judgements, hath a relation too of one Thespesius, who fell down from a high place (drunk perchance; for he was a lewd Companion:) without any external wound or bleeding; upon which he grew immediately senseless, and after a while was supposed dead: but came to himself again after the third day, and then told strange things that he had seen; some things also (of which Plutarch speaketh very sparingly,) he foretold: and then was his Soul also supposed to have wandered out of the Body all that while I think it very probable, though I have nothing but Plutarch's authority for it, that such a thing (laying aside the main controversy of real separation, till we come to some determination about it,) might happen. First, such a fall as he describeth, might probably be the occasion (as we had before in the ecstatical Boy, whom his master had so grievously beaten about the head:) of such an ecstasy. Secondly, three days, the very proportion of time which Physicians have pitched upon, during which they teach that an ecstasy may last. And though Plutarch say after three days; it is like enough they would speak so, though some hours, amounting perchance to half a day and better, to make three days, were wanting. But than lastly, the substance of his Visions, and places of his wander, do just agree with the relations of other ecstatical persons, that have been at several times and places. It may be comprehended in few words: Heaven, Hell, and purgatory. The phrases indeed, and expressions, proper to Heathens, as must needs be. but the substance of the matter, the very same for all the world as we find in others, that were of another faith and profession. And yet it must be supposed, that this story having passed through several hands, before it came to Plutarch, had suffered some alterations according to different humours of men, and perchance memories, before: and what end soever any other might propose unto himself in it, apparent enough it is, that Plutarch, as may be seen in the end, where he speaks of Nero's soul, did aim at some use, for the credit and benefit of his own country. So much for Heathens. I have not met with any professing Christianity, either ancient, (that I remember at least,) or late, that have maintained this separation possible upon grounds of reason; or de facto, real and credible; but Joh. Bodinus and Cardanus. Of Cardanus I can say little more, than what I find in Bodinus of him, because I have not his books. Why I do not value much his testimony in these things, I have given some reason before. And if his arguments be not better, (in case he have any to prove it possible; which is more than I know:) we should make no great reckoning of them. As for Bodinus, he was a man famous enough for other learning too; but especially well versed in such arguments and speculations, as appeareth by his book of Daemonologia. The elogium of the man and his writings, is in Thuanus at large. He plainly maintains it in that choice piece of his, his Theatrum Naturae: a book full of natural Curiosities; whether as solid as curious, I cannot tell. But he speaks not of it as of a thing feasible by nature, but by power either divine, or diabolical. And what is that to us? Yes, even unto us, as I conceive, that otherwise desire not to meddle with any thing that is supernatural. For as to divine; as I should hold it a mad thing, from the power of God, which even heathens (though not Galen, who quarrels with Moses for making it so) have acknowledged infinite, to argue to the power of nature, which God (the author) from the first creation hath bounded within certain limits: so on the other side, if it were granted that ordinary Witches and Magicians, can at pleasure by power given them from the Devil, separate their souls from their bodies for certain hours, or days, and then resume their bodies again, and be as before; which by the said Bodinus is disputed and maintained; truly I should think, it might without impiety or improbability be inferred from thence, that this kind of separation is a thing possible in, and by nature also. But I will not engage myself here upon that argument of Witches, of which I once purposed to treat more at large, and by itself: it is yet possible that I may before I die, if God please. Somewhat Bodinus hath from some precedents in nature, that we might not too much wonder at that which he doth aver and maintain, though not by natural causes, so often to come to pass. Nec debet illud mirum videri, si quis meminerit ex electro, etc. I did expect he would have told somewhat of divers creatures, which some for a longer, some for a shorter time, as flies in the winter, lie quite senseless, and seem to be dead: and yet afterwards are known to revive, and to be as active and busy as ever they were. Such arguments I remember, and instances we had many, when young Sophisters in the University, upon occasion of several disputes. But this example taken from the separation of Gold and Silver, informing the true Electrum; or of the separation of oil & Water, after mixture, by such & such means; seemeth to me so remote, that I do not see how a rational man can infer any thing out of it pertinent to this purpose. Again; had Bodinus gone that way to work, to prove, or make it probable at least, that the rational soul or spirit of man is really distinct and separable from the vegetative & sensitive; though contrary to the common opinion of best philosophers; yet so he might have laid a plausible foundation to his opinion of separation in ecstasies. But that he doth not; but plainly maintaineth the contrary.  
I shall not absolutely determine any thing: but I shall give some reason why I do not, which will be a kind of determination of the business. S. Paul speaking of his own divine raptures, professeth not to know whether they happened unto him in the body, or out of the body. He is earnest in that profession, and repeats it twice. I am not of their opinion, though it be the opinion of no less a man then Hugo Grotius, among others, that make S. Paul's meaning to be, that he did not know whether he were carried in body to heaven, or heavenly things represented unto his mind. I should account that, but for the respect I bear to some that embrace it, somewhat a course interpretation. Now if S. Paul, according to that interpretation of his words which is more commonly received, though he knew the power of God very well, and that what had happened unto him, whatever it was, was not from any natural cause, but altogether supernatural; would not, or could not nevertheless, absolutely determine, whether that in his divine rapture there were any real separation of his soul from his body: I must think it somewhat bold for any man to maintain, that such a separation, either by diabolical power, or by causes that are natural, is possible; much less, as Bodinus, ordinary. Besides, in that case of Witches, which is the main argument; except we can tell of Witches and Sorcerers that are in trances for some weeks, months, or years together, what need? May not the Devil as easily, yea and fare more easily to our apprehension in point of possibility, represent such things unto their fancy, and make them believe, (which many do without any Devil, upon such impressions, occasioned by some distemper of the brain, or otherwise, as in former examples:) that they saw or did such and such things really, in such and such places? But they are carried to fare places, and give a true account of what they have seen, it may be a hundred, or a thousand miles off. This I believe to be true enough, that many Witches & Sorcerers in divers places in the world, by several kinds of Witchcraft do it. But if a Sorcerer, or a Witch show in a glass what is now done upon the Exchange at Antwerp, or at the Lovure in Paris; which certainly some have done, or somewhat equivalent to that; must we therefore conclude that he that hath seen it, hath been at either? But lastly; though the Soul, in man, be it that seethe properly, not the Eyes; yet as the Soul is fitted by God to inform a Body, it cannot see without Eyes. When once, as to nature, it hath lost its relation to the body; it then becomes (though the very same substance still,) a new creature as it were, to all manner of operations. It seethe, it speaketh, or to speak more properly, communicateth: but not either with Eyes, or Tongue; but as Spirits or Angels do. of the particular manner whereof, both ancient Philosophers and schoolmen have disputed and treated at large. If therefore the soul separated from the body can return into it again, and remember what it hath seen; it would also remember as well, that it was not with bodily eyes that it saw or knew, but in such a manner as is proper and natural (if we may so speak) to a spirit: which is contrary to the account that is given by Witches, and other of like trade. If any man should say, though separated for a season, it might carry with it some species, that it had received in the body through the ministry of the Eyes, and so of other senses: though that be absurd, because all such species are imprinted in the brain, disposed by the presence of the soul to receive them; or if we fly to the intelligibiles, abstracted out of the materials by virtue of the intellectus agens: yet even so, though it might see (were it granted) by that means, some things, even after its separation, that it had seen before, whilst in the body; yet other things, whether present or future, by virtue of those species, more than it had seen or known before, it could not.  
III. I have done with the two questions which I proposed: I shall now pass to a third, which I did not mention, to prevent prejudice, lest by the very terms, it might be thought frivolous and fruitless; which nevertheless in the end, before we have done with it, will appear of great consequence and reality. But before I come to that new question, I will conclude this discourse concerning Ecstasies, with somewhat that may do them perchance some pleasure, who are not much conversant in Philosophy. We had somewhat of Visions, whether internal or external, before. It may be, that expression will not be understood by some. It is true that ordinarily, as all object of sight is outward; so all sight or vision, properly inward. Animus videt, etc. as before, at the beginning, disputed. But Laurentius in his Treatise of melancholy, delivers it as a secret, that even without outward objects we may see things inwardly; and thereupon defendeth Galen against Averro, affirming that the darkness of melancholic spirits, is a great occasion of melancholy men's continual fearfulness. He handleth it also in his Anatomy, lib. 11. q. 2. The species, he saith, (which must be understood of some extraordinary cases; else the sight would be a very uncertain sense:) with such and such impressions, may be sent unto the eyes from the brain, and from the eyes returned unto the place from whence they came, and the brain receive them (for which see his reasons in his Anatomy:) as things outward. I leave it to the further consideration of learned Physicians and Anatomists. Certain it is, that upon some distempers of the brain, a man shall think, even awaking, that he seethe those things which he doth not see: things which are not, nor perchance can be. Aristotle in his Treatise of Dreams, gives an instance of it in children and young boys; who after some terrible dream, though they be out of their dream, and their eyes full open, (and light brought in sometimes: which I add, because I know it to be true:) think nevertheless for a while after, that they see with their eyes, what they saw in their dream. And Vitus Amerbachius, a learned man, in his book De anima, lib. 4. confirms it to be true by his own experience, even when he was a man, if I mistake him not. But whatever be the cause, the effect is certain; confirmed also by learned Fracastorius in these words: Nihil enim refert ad apparentiam faciendam, etc. that is, Whether the species comes to the eyes from without, or from within, is not material at all, in point of apparition: for they believe they see, and are astonished, and grow besides themselves, etc. De Sympath. c. 20.  
Our third question or consideration is, whether a man by Philosophy, or philosophical contemplation, may attain to an Angelical transformation: or to go higher, to such a degree of union with God, that he shall neither by the help of any sense, or fancy, understand as other men; but by a kind of contactus, or union of substance with the Supreme Cause of all things. If any man think this too curious a question, or too high for ordinary capacities, he will be (as is already intimated,) much deceived. For it is for their sakes especially that are the weaker sex, that I propose it; as he will find it, if he have but the patience to read unto the end. This marvellous transmutation of man by philosophy, is asserted by men that call themselves Platonics. Julius Caesar Vaninius describeth it in this manner: Ejus causa, continua sublimiorum contemplatio, quae à sensibilibus & à corporis penso animum sevocat, & profundissima mentis intentione incorporeae sapientiae conjungit: cumque ad illum gradum pervenerit, qui est contemplativae perfectionis supremus, tunc rapitur ab omnibus creatis speciebus, & intelligit non per species acquisitas, sed per inspectionem ad Ideas, in quarum lumine omnia agnoscit. Ideo ecstatici multa vera praedicunt. They that can come at Ficinus, De philosoph. Platon. and other works of his, may expect a more perfect account. But for my part, by what I can find in Plato, or other ancient Platonists, I doubt that Plato is wrongfully quoted. I deny not but that he might be some foundation: but they that raised it to this height, were no others as I take it, than the enthusiastic Arabs, the very same that bred us Mahomet; whether before, or afterwards. I have a good Author for it. Learned Montecatenus (an exquisite Aristotelian) in his Commentaries upon the third of Aristotle De Anima, speaking there of Averro, hath these words: Hic enim est qui opinatur, et si eam opinionem non usquequaque probemus, (I wonder so sober a man would say so much:) per eas species [intellectiles] tanquam per sui parts, perfect demum nobiscum copulari effectricem mentem: in quam illae ubi numerum expleverint, repentina quadam luce effulgentes, quasi abeant & convertantur; imaginatione etiam totoque homine secum attractis: adeo ut exinde, non per species, ut antea, non ope imaginationis intelligamus; sed per illius mentis essentiam, in quam nos pene ista mutavit copulatio. It were no hard thing to put this into English: but how to make it intelligible English to them that know nothing of the intellectus agens, and patience, and other mysteries of the nature of understanding, I know not. However, the sum is already in the question, as I proposed it. And in the application that we shall make, every thing will be clearer.  
Let the Arabs therefore have the honour of it; if not of the first invention, yet of the perfection: yea and practice too, for which they are better fitted by their natural temper, than many other nations. However, that they had it in part, as almost all other things, from the Grecians, is most certain; as is elsewhere treated more at large in a Discourse De cultu Dei spirituali, sive per intellectum, not yet printed. Among the works of Dionysius Areopagita, as commonly called, there is a little Treatise De mystica Theologia. Were it possible to hope, that men would judge without prejudice or partiality, I think it might be proved, partly by what hath already been done by others, partly by what might yet be added to that purpose, as clear as the light of the Sun itself is, that the Author of the book cannot be that Dionysius, whom he counterfeits himself, and many gladly believe. But it is, and would be but labour lost. So fare hath that pompous dress of words, joined with the sublimity of the subject, bewitched many: besides what advantage is made by some, of this pretended antiquity, in some controverted points of religion. However, the Author is ancient, we grant, and good enough too for some uses, to deserve respect at the hands of all learned men. In the Treatise De mystica Theologia, he teacheth a new kind of practical Divinity, by renouncing not to the Senses only, but to the Understanding also, and to all intellectual powers, faculties, and operations that are natural: by which in time we may attain [through elevation of mind] to an union not expressible, nor understood, yet felt, and in an hidden manner operative, with God: in this union, as the perfection of man, and the height of mortal exaltation, to rest, when attained, without passion, without affection, without knowledge. I will give a short description of this mystery, in the words of 
* Since this written, I have seen one Sandaeus, of the same argument: but have not yet found in him any thing much material, that is not in Hersentius: though I do not find that be maketh any mention of him any where.  Carolus Hersentius, one that hath commented upon that book, and hath collected out of other Authors, men and women, whatever he could meet with, to commend it and the doctrine of it unto the world: Cum ad hunc amoris & contemplationis gradum per venit, saith he, ut nihil eorum qua intellectu, etc. miro & incognito modo à Deo rapitur; à Deo, & in Deo suscipitur; tota Deo plena fit; tota in Deum transfunditur: ita ut essentia Dei ejus essentiae & substantiae intime & absque ullo modo creato uniatur. Deus autem in raptu hujusmodi, adventu suo seu illapsu, rationem & mentem obscurat, stupefacit suspenditque: ita ut pro eo temporis intervallo nullius actionis capax sit. We shall have the English of all this also, (the substance of it at least,) when I come to that application of it which I aim at. But I would gladly know, of whom this Dionysius learned this strange Divinity. It is somewhat, that Hersentius doth acknowledge Dionysius in this his doctrine, Platonicorum dogmatum sectatorem, p. 101. and Platonis sectatorem accuratissimum, p. 91. And p. 93. etc. he bringeth passages out of jamblichus, Porphyrius, Proclus, noted Platonists; teaching in a manner the same thing. Insomuch that p. 43. he dares adventure upon so much truth, as to say, Ego equidem dum Procli philosophi Platonici in Theologiam Platonis axiomata animadverto, firmiter mihi persuadeo out Dionysium Procli scripta legisse; (a terrible business to be supposed, which would prove no less than heresy, and loss of goods and life. For than what must this Dionysius prove, but an impostor, seeing Proclus lived, all men know, some centuries of years since the true Dionysius?) aut quod vero similius, (yea by all means it concerns him to say so;) Proclum libris Dionysii operam navasse. But let the sober Reader consider: Here is a strange kind of Divinity, as some call it, or Philosophy; of which much hath been written (in many volumes by some of them,) by Platonic Philosophers, grounding all upon express passages, (though drawn much further, by the Arabs especially, than he ever intended perchance,) of their master Plato: insomuch that Hersentius himself, as observed before, is forced to call Dionysius, a Platonist, for teaching this doctrine. We find nothing of it (except we draw things obtorto collo, as we say;) in the Gospel of Christ; nothing in ancient Fathers of greatest antiquity: and yet likely after all this, that Proclus learned it from Dionysius. But what if we find other Philosophers also, besides Plato, that lived some hundred of years before the true Dionysius, teach the same doctrine more clearly than Plato himself; as clearly almost, as either Proclus, or Dionysius? It cannot be unpleasing to them that are Scholars, if I take some pains to discover some mysteries of this mystery of darkness, which for aught I know, have not yet been brought to light by any man. Who is the true Author of those metaphysics, or rather fragments of metaphysics, that go under Theophrastus his name, certainly I cannot tell. We find them ascribed to divers Authors by ancient Greek Philosophers: yet by some very ancient (though not found in the Catalogue of his books set out by Diogenes Laertius, where divers books of his are missing as well as this;) to Theophrastus himself. learned Sylburgius leaves it doubtful. Theophrastus' was one of Aristotle's own disciples, and succeeded him in his School; much commended by him: an excellent Philosopher certainly by those works of his (not the twentieth part of what he had written,) that remain unto this day. Those Fragments of metaphysics, whoever be the Author, who must have lived long before Christ, are a choice piece; but very imperfect, end therefore the more obscure. In the eighth Chapter of these Fragments, (as divided in Sylburgius his edition: for in Aldus, long before that, I find none:) after a long discourse of the speculation of principles, we find these words; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. All that know any thing of Philosophy, be it never so little, cannot but have heard of Aristotle's opinion, so much disputed in the schools of Philosophers: that the understanding, whilst joined with the body, can do nothing without the senses. of which we also have had occasion to consider at large in another work, (De origine Idolotriae) not yet printed. Theophrastus' therefore here saith; That to some degree or measure, we may contemplate and know the first causes scientifically, that is, by their causes, from things sensible: (or, by the help of the same senses:) But when once ascended to the Summities, or Original Firsts, we can go no further: either because they have no cause; or partly because of our weakness, as in matter of sight, (he had this similitude, upon the like occasion, from his master Aristotle;) when we would look upon that (to wit the Sun,) which is most bright and splendid. And in this case, it may be true indeed, (by which words Theophrastus doth seem to refer to the speech of some former noted Philosopher, whether Aristotle or Plato:) that all knowledge and contemplation [of the first causes] must be by very touching, and feeling (that is, union, or conjunction, as in the former testimonies:) of the mind, or intellect. Whence it is that such knowledge (grounded upon a kind of feeling, of all senses the most certain in man; by which also he doth sometimes correct the errors of his eyes; or rather, because immediately from God:) is not liable to error; however the comprehension of this very thing, and the certainty of it, (or, though that degree of knowledge, necessary before a man can attain to this; as of 
* See Chap. 6.  confidence also;) be a thing of great difficulty. So Theophrastus there. And now I would desire the Reader, that hath so much curiosity for the truth, to read over that Discourse (it is very short, and will take but little time:) of this pretended Dionysius, and tell himself, when he hath done, (some common things concerning the incomprehensibleness of God, laid aside,) whether the very pith and marrow of it, be not in those few lines. I will appeal unto Hersentius, who in his paraphrase at the end, sums up all in these words: Fatendum igitur, si Deus à nobis aliqua ratione agnosci potest, sola ignoratione, silentio, conjunctione supra sensum & mentem, per ipsam anime unionem agnosci. As for that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that divine cloud, which the Author proposeth at the first, as his chiefest argument; I know there is ground enough for it, as in the nature, so in the Word of God: as by the Greek Commentators upon this Dionysius is well showed. But of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of God's nature, how to extract a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a mist of 
* Some may make a difference between ignoratio and ignorantia. But I know not how to do it in English: except I may be allowed to say unknowingness: or the like.  ignorance in man, (as the Author elsewhere speaketh,) as the readiest way to the knowledge of God, so much pressed by this Author, and so much commended unto others by the abettors of this strange doctrine; I know no ground at all for it either in reason, or Scripture. However, I am much beholding to that phrase. It hath put me in mind of somewhat that may serve very well further to discover this imposture. Synesius is a man well known among Scholars: he was made Bishop against his will, for his great fame and worth. He did oppose it very much: and in very truth, in some of his writings, even since a Bishop, as I take it, he showeth himself a better Platonist, then sound Christian. It seems that even in his days this new Divinity began to be in request among Christians, and some illiterate Monks and others took hold of this magnified 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or absolute ignorance, to bring themselves into reputation, as though they had been the only wise and godly men of the world, because the most ignorant; but pretending by that ignorance, to have nearest access unto God, and most of God in themselves. Hereupon Synesius wrote that exquisite piece, which he inscribed Dio; (because in very deed, Dio Chrysostomus a great part of his subject;) to prove the necessity of humane Learning and Philosophy, to all that will contemplate of high things with sobriety and good success. He doth not deny but that some such transcendent wits and natures have been, (but phoenixlike, scarce one in an Age,) who without any such preparation, have been able by the sublimity of their natural parts and excellencies, to ascend without steps to the highest that man can reach, but that any of those professors of ignorance, that pretended to that happy condition, were such, he doth very peremptorily deny. He tells them of their fopperies and manifold extravagancies in their language, and writings; by which a man might sooner guess them to be sunk much lower than ordinary nature, then to have attained to any supernatural sublimity. I would have the Reader observe those words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the like; which be terms of Art, and much used in this mystical science: by which it doth plainly appear, that he meant those very men, whom I speak of God forbidden, saith he there in a place, that we should think that if God dwell in us, he should dwell in any other part of us, then that which is rational: which is his proper Temple. It cannot be certainly, that Truth should be found in Ignorance; or that he should be wise truly, which is irrational: with many such things to that purpose. Yea he tells them also of their affected silence and taciturnity. Ἐγὼ μὲν καὶ ἀπιστεῖν αὐτοῖς βούλομαι, etc. He would not believe that they were Mysteries indeed, that made them dumb, because inexpressible: not but that it is the nature of things really sublime, to be so; but because he saw nothing in them or from them, that argued either knowledge, or capacity of things fare under Mysteries. But the Reader must not expect that satisfaction from me, which he may give himself, if he will read Synesius himself. There is nothing of Synesius, but is very good in his kind, and well worth any man's reading: this, both good and useful, more than any other part of him, if I be not mistaken. It is pity, it is no better translated. but indeed more pity, that he should be read in any other language than his own; it is so very good, and elegant.  
Now to come to that use of this last question and consideration, which at the first I aimed at: I shall not here dispute, how fare a well-grounded intelligent Philosopher may adventure in this kind of mystical Theology (a word common to heathens, it is well known, as well as to Christians;) for the discovery of any truth, above ordinary humane ratiocination; nor whether the most illiterate among Christians, whether men or women, may not attain sometimes by God's special favour, and real holiness and sanctity, to the highest mysteries of Christian religion; which as we deny not, so we are sure, is nothing at all to this purpose; nor lastly, whether the true knowledge and love of Christ, joined with a holy life, have not in many, or most, (in some more, in some less,) a ravishing power, set out allegorically in the book of Canticles, and other Scriptures: All these as altogether impertinent to the question and case we are upon, I shall pass by. That which we are to consider, is, whether this Mystical Theology, as they call it, by renouncing to all senses, to all knowledge, and intellectual operation, that is, in effect, by affected Ecstasies and Enthusiasms, be a probable way, to compass a more perfect, real and substantial union with God, or Christ, then otherwise is to be compassed: whether the writings of some ancient and later Platonists, Greeks and Arabs, Heathens and Mahometans, be a sufficient ground and warrant for it, to them that profess to ascribe more to the Scriptures, received among Christians for divine, by which sobriety of sense is so much commended unto us; then to the opinions of heathen Philosophers. but more particularly, whether allowable or commendable in women, whom all men know to be naturally weaker of brain, and easiest to be infatuated and deluded. But this last is the thing I intent specially to insist upon, by reason of that example mentioned in the Epistle to the Reader; by consideration of which (finding it backed with so much authority,) I was first provoked to undertake this whole Discourse: having also some respect to some very near unto me by kindred, of the same, or like profession.  
This supposed holy Maid, 
The life of sister Catharine of Jesus, etc. at Paris: 1628. See the Epistle to the Reader.  whom we are now to consider of, was from her infancy, according to the relation, which we must trust to, very devout: and, as averse from any worldly pomp and pleasure; so, strangely addicted to bodily pennances and voluntary chastisements. We will conclude nothing of this. We know well enough what the Apostle writeth of himself, and what hath been the practice of some truly devout, in times of purest devotion and piety. However, it is sure enough, that such immoderate castigations and vexations, may be an effect of melancholy, as well as religion; and had not that famous, shall I say, or infamous Porphyrius, lighted upon a better friend, to take him off in time, he had never lived to plot and write so much against Christians and Christ himself, as he did. Zeno the Philosopher was wont to say, Let me be mad, rather than in pleasure: not considering that even in pain there is pleasure, if a man thereby please his own mind, and think highly of himself, (wherein the height of humane contentment and ambition often lieth,) because he can endure much. Certainly, there would never have been so many Stoics and cynics in the world, who when they might have lived otherwise, (and some of them of their own accord parted with good means and temporal estates for it,) chose to beg, and to be trampled upon by every idle rascal that met them, to make good their profession of unpassionatenesse; had it not been so, that pain and pleasure are things which oftentimes depend more on fancy, than reality; and that pleasure may be found, where others feel pain. When I lived in Somerset-shire, (where first called to the discharge of holy Duties,) there was in a gentlewoman's house (a woman of good estate and reputation, much given to hospitality; where I myself have been often kindly entertained;) a natural Fool, but useful enough in a great house for some services; who took a singular pleasure in being whipped, even unto blood: and it was one or two lusty Maids (for it must be done by Maids, to give him content,) their task every morning▪ when they could intent it. He was not pleased, nor would follow his business so well all the day after, if it were not done. But what do I talk of one fool? whereas we find it recorded by good Historians, that whole nations at once, have been possessed, shall I say, or infected, with this frenzy? Were I in a place where books are to be had, I should be able perchance to give a better account of what I say to the Reader. I am very confident I have read it in more than one, with observations made upon it, as an epidemical disease or distemper; though by more I know ascribed to mere devotion. But to supply that defect as well as I can, I will here impart unto the Reader what▪ find of it in my Father, of B. M. his Adversaria.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 desiderium repente populos Europae invadit.  
Memorabilis historia: Circa An. Dom. 1260. cum pauci in Italia velut sydere afflati cepissent sese ex poenitentia flagellare, miro casu ad reliquos Europae populos exemplum manavit, & eos quoque cupiditas flagellandi se incessit.  Vide Chron. Patau. mona. p. 612. 1613. 
And who hath not heard of the Milesian Virgins; a thing so generally attested by all Ancients, that no man can reasonably make a question of the truth of it? A humour took them to make themselves away. no persuasions of friends, or parents, or any thing else that was most dear unto them, nor any other means that could be thought of, were effectual to persuade them to live. There was scarce any house left in the Town, that mourned not for some of these self-executioners. Until at last a simple device (as it commonly falls out with them that labour of a limited melancholy to some one object; of which we had examples before:) did that which no obligation, either civil or natural, could do before: to make them fear that, which of all fears otherwise, is generally accounted, and by some Philosophers absolutely determined, to be most natural unto all.  
At what age of her life this Maid began to fall into Trances and Ecstasies, I cannot find by the story, which is not digested into years. But from her first general confession, which she made but 9 years old, [p. 6.20.] she began to talk much of God's presence; and fancy to herself, that she saw God visibly, every time she went to Church. And being asked whether she suffered any distraction of senses; she said, no; (I wonder who doth in that case:) and was believed. The first visible fit, it seems, began in the Church, [p. 33.] with a trembling: so that she let her Wax-candle, (which by the proper ceremony of the day, she held in her hand,) fall to the ground, and could not take it up. From that time, her visions, it seems, began to be very frequent. and I find it observed, [p. 31.33.45.50.] that she could seldom speak, or express herself, when she had seen any thing; so that she only reaped the benefit of those great secrets and mysteries, which God is said to have revealed unto her.  
But from 21. of her life, [p. 38.54.] her ecstasies began to be very strong, and would last three or four hours in a day so that she did verily think herself to be in heaven, sometimes, [p. 39] when she was upon earth, at her ordinary (as is noted) employment.  
Pag. 34. (and 61.63.64.65.) of the story, Christ is said to have drawn her soul into his. Pag. 45.46.47. to have taken possession of her: and more particularly, (which the author of the relation professeth not to understand,) to have marked her with a mark: and afterwards to have abided in her, by presence, and by operation, to her last day.  
Pag. 47. It is directly affirmed, that she was for the most part, deprived of her natural wit and understanding.  
Pag. 52. She was one day transported besides herself in a Garden, and for the space of an hour (which by the Relation is called, a strong operation of God,) continued saying over and over, God doth put his Power in me, God doth put his wisdom in me, and his Knowledge.  
Pag. 54. etc. She often saw, and in some degree suffered (through fright, etc.) the pains of Hell. I know not at what time of her age; but it might be the first direct ecstasy she had, for aught I can gather by the relation. She was, according to her own relation, [p. 59] in a Cave, called S. Denys his Cave, because by tradition, S. Denys, with divers other Martyrs, had inhabited it by the space of two years; and therefore had in great reverence by the whole Convent. In that Cave being alone, (and let the Reader judge, whether that holy Cave alone, with the opinion they had of it, was not enough to put any melancholic maid, devoutly given, into an ecstasy:) she saw Heaven and Hell, and the Soul of Christ in its purity.  
Pag. 75. She is yet reported to have been exalted higher: for that the Soul of Christ (who was said before to have drawn her Soul into his,) did draw her into an operation of the Holy trinity: in which operation she is said to have continued unto the end of her life. How this to be understood, must not be expected from me. All my care is, not to misrelate any thing, or to make it worse, by my translation, than I find it.  
Pag. 91. God puts upon her, (as our story tells us,) the care of the affairs of France: which she did accept, and commend herself unto God at the same time.  
Pag. 101. She foretold somewhat of her death, that it should not be a natural death, nor by ordinary means. But it fell out otherwise, though the story doth endeavour to make it good: but in vain. For she died of a general Consumption of the body, (the most natural death that could happen to such a life,) which ended in a continual Fever, with a kind of lethargy, or caros: very violent at the last; and so made an end of her. It seems she did not think to die, when she did, as our story tells us, [p. 115.117.] which I suppose would tell us no more of that, than it must needs.  
She had some strange sights before her death. As for example; that there is a plenitude of God in all things, even to the least Ant. which is very philosophical; but not very easy to be understood by ordinary people, and more apt to be mistaken to some heretical sense; as somewhat was by the Manicheans, not much different.  
These, (not to speak of her spiritual temptations, which were frequent and terrible, and some obscure intimations of Miracles; for which we will rather commend the ingenuity of the Relator, considering what is ordinarily done by others, upon such occasions, then find fault:) these, I say, be the chief particulars, which her story doth afford: which as I propose to the learned Readers consideration; so shall I not, submitting to better judgements, stick in the mean time to declare mine own. Truly I do not see any cause to believe that in any of these many Visions or Ecstasies, there was any thing at all supernatural, either divine or diabolical, more than is in every common disease: wherein we acknowledge as the hand of God always; so the ministry of the Devil, if not always, very often, as was before declared. I conceive them all, both Visions and Ecstasies, to have been the effect of pure melancholy; very agreeable to what hath happened unto other melancholic persons, in other places. Whether I should blame the ignorance, or the superstition of them that had to do with her, or both, I know not: but I think they were to blame, and that she had ill luck to fall into such hands. They do well to make her amends what they can, after her death: but I think it had been more charitable, to have used some means for the cure of her melancholy, by which (with God's blessing upon the means always to be presupposed,) she might have been preserved in life. As for her expressions, of Christ's drawing her soul into his, and the like; so agreeable, in effect, to those of the Platonists, and Arab Philosophers, the terms only (Christ for God) changed: I have no suspicion for all that, that she was acquainted with them, nor with any secrets of that mystical theology that came from them; but that naturally, according to the condition of her temper, she fell into those fancies, which some enthusiastic Philosophers before, not by virtue of their Philosophy, but through distemper of their enthusiastic brains, had lighted upon.  
I have expressed myself the more freely in this business, not that I take any pleasure, or have any ambition at all, to oppose the judgement of others: which if I were ambitious to do, I could have found matter enough to busy myself, long before this: but because I judged it a matter of great consequence, not only for the preservation of some lives, but of Truth, (more precious than many lives,) which hath in all Ages suffered by nothing more, then by pretended Enthusiasms; and of public Peace, which hath often been disturbed by such, whether artifices, or mere mistakes.  
But I have not yet done with my Theologia mystica: which being so proper to my subject, I must not pass it over superficially. The Reader that is not learned, will have patience if I desire to gratify them that are. Hersentius his authorities for this kind of divinity, so much magnified by him, are all either Heathen Philosophers, (greatest opposers of christianity,) Plotinus, Proclus, Porphyrius, Jamblichus; or very late and inconsiderable writers, Johannes Rusbrocius, Henricus Harphius, Ludovicus Blosius, (or rather Thalerus,) and one Woman, Sancta Teresia: not one word out of any ancient Father, (in that Chapter) Greek or Latin; not so much as out of S. Augustine, or Gregory the Great, or S. Bernard: who otherwise, of true Christian Raptures, proceeding from intent love and admiration, grounded not upon Ignorance and self-conceitedness, but sound Knowledge and piety; might have afforded matter for a bigger volume, than that whole Discourse, with all that hath been written either by Dionysius (so called,) or any other of that Sect, comes too. But I will deal very ingenuously with the Reader. There was one Maximus, in the days of Heraclius Emperor of Constantinople: of whom we are bound to speak with honour, because he suffered for the true Faith. Whether it were he, whose Greek Scholias are extant upon this Dionysius, is doubted by some: but more probable that it is. This Maximus (besides other works of his, some extant, some not,) hath written a Mystagogia: which I suppose to be altogether of the same argument as this Mystica Theologia of Dionysius. It was published by David Hoeschelius, a learned man, to whom we owe many other good books, but it hath not been my luck ever to see it. But though not that, yet I have seen and often read, sometimes with admiration, sometimes with indignation, another work of his, (not much known, I believe,) which he calleth his Κεφάλαια Θεολογικὰ καὶ οἰκονομικά: printed at Paris, besides later editions, very elegantly, by Guiliel. Morellius, an. Dom. 1560. fitted by remote allegorical interpretations of Scripture, for Christians; but written by him in imitation of Porphyrius, and other Heathens, their ἀφορμαὶ, as they call them; from whom also he hath taken some things verbatim. These indeed we shall find this mystical theology in its height, in divers places. I can easily believe that so holy a man, in his ordinary conversation, and so profound a Philosopher, as he shows himself by his writings, might make good use of such meditations, and elevations of thoughts; and yet keep himself within sobriety. but that it is a dangerous book otherwise for ordinary capacities, apt to turn all Religion and all Scripture (in weaker brains) into mere fancy, and 
* Wigelius, Stifelius, Jac. Behmius; and divers others of that country, mere fanatics; as unto any sober man may appear by their Writings: some of which have been translated into English. But of them and their phrenfies, see more, if you desire it, in Christ. Becmanus (not to mention others,) his Exerercitationes Theologicae.  Teutonick chimerical extravagancies, I do, upon grounds of reason, as verily believe, as I do the former, charitably. I know not whether it be for the better, or for the worse: but sure I am, that his meaning is often mistaken by the Latin Interpreter; whereof I shall give but one instance, because of some further use that may be made of it. Centur. 2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. His meaning is, according to the principles of this divinity, by him more at large explained in some former Aphorisms, that by this immediate, intimate Union with God, by which he sticks not to say, that the soul is actually Deified, all operations of the understanding do cease. The Interpreter quite contrary: Mens immediatam erga Deum unionem adepta, totis viribus in id incumbit, ut intelligat & intelligatur. That which deceived him, are the words, νοεῖν and νοεῖσθαι, which so joined, he did not understand to be put, as often, figuratively, to intimate an absolute cessation of all understanding. So Gen. 31.29. either good or evil: where evil only was intended, properly. And Numb. 23.25. neither curse them at all, nor bless them at all: where cursing was extremely desired and endeavoured; and blessing only properly intended to be forbidden, And so I believe Matth. 12.14. three days and three nights, which hath so much troubled Expositors, should be understood: three nights added only for the more emphatical expression of three days. Three days, really and truly; (though not three full days;) as men are wont to understand days ordinarily, not figuratively; and therefore set out by their contraries also, the nights. But in Eunapius certainly, τὸ λυπούμενον ἀυτῷ καὶ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is no more then, omnia humana contemnebat: whereas learned Hadr. Junius, translating, Delicias suas, & excruciantem se aegritudinem exuit, makes Eunapius clearly to contradict himself, who both before and afterwards, sets out Porphyrius, as plunged in deepest melancholy, and not likely to hold out much longer, had not Plotinus come to his succour in time.  
This mention of Eunapius puts me in mind of Alypius that pygmy Philosopher, who through continual contemplation (if we may believe the story,) having reduced his body to almost nothing; Eunapius saith, (but there too mistaken by the Latin Interpreter,) that the saying of Plato was verified in him, That whereas the souls of ordinary men were placed in their bodies; the bodies of holy men and Philosophers were placed in their souls. But this is nothing to what we read of Ignatius Loyola, whose body was so transformed into soul, that he could lift and bear himself up in the air to a good height, without wings; as we shall find perchance in its proper place. For it was at his prayers only that he could do it, when he was at the height of the spirit, as my Author tells me.  
But to return to Maximus, and what I intended of him. Although I honour his Sufferings, yet I do not think myself bound by that to approve his Doctrine. Neither do I think that Photius had much better opinion of that work, than I have; who plainly censureth it, as an abortive, or adulterinum foetum. (wherein the Latin Interpreter, apparently swarving from the original Greek, makes him say the contrary.) not that he doubted Maximus to be the Author; no more than he did of those ἀπορήματα καὶ λύσεις: concerning which he gives the Reader a large account before: but because he judged neither the one nor the other, (being both of a strain; those Aporemata and these κεφάλαια:) worthy of that Maximus, the Author of those Centuriae, De Charitate: which he much commends, and deservedly. And why should not the authority of so many ancient Fathers, and many of them Martyrs too, as well as he; who because they neither practised it (though not unknown unto them, as excellent Philosophers, some of them,) themselves, this Mystical theology I mean, nor any where in their writings commend it unto others, must needs be supposed to have condemned it; why not their authority, say I, more considerable, than the authority of one or two, so long after, and so much inferior unto them? But besides, how contrary to the doctrine of best Shoolmen, I appeal to Thom. Aquinas, 2.2. quaestione 174. who there very solidly proveth and asserteth the excellency of rational intellectual Christian knowledge, above all prophecy: to whom also that excellent Rabbi Ben Maimon, the Aquinas of the Rabbins, doth agree in divers places of his More Nevochim, making it (rational intellectual divinity) the highest degree of prophecy: who also hath a Chapter there (of very good use, to keep men from running themselves out of their right wits,) of moderation to be observed in Contemplation. I shall therefore conclude concerning this way of theology;  
First, that as it hath its origine from heathen Philosophers, and by them recommended unto us, as the highest and most perfect way: so it is extremely derogatory to the Scriptures, and to the Doctrine of Christ, where no footstep of it is to be seen; but contrarily, much against it, as it deprives a man of the use of Reason.  
Secondly, that although it be granted, that some profound Philosophers, by the advantage of such and such a natural Disposition, of a strong, well-settled and tempered brain, etc. may make some use of it to their own content: yet to commend it to ordinary people, and to women especially, is to persuade them to madness; and to expose them to the illusions of the Devil, always ready to take such advantages.  
Thirdly, that the use of this theology, doth most properly belong unto Jesuits, (which I would not have understood of any truly pious and peaceable amongst them:) and Jesuited Politicians, whether they call themselves Lutherans, or Calvinists, or otherwise; who having designs pro re nata upon the lives of Kings and Princes, (or whoever else they be, whom they would have out of the way,) have no better way, when open force doth fail, to bring their designs to pass, then by the hands of such, whom they have brought up to this mystical art. For what will not even a sober man do, upon a strong, whether right or wrong, apprehension of Heaven or Hell? How much more those, who besides their common obligation of blind obedience, by long, forced, wild contemplation, are become ecstatical, that is, fitted for any desperate attempt?  
Neither can I have any better opinion (in point of Sciences) of that Method, which of late years hath been proposed by some, and by many (whom Plutarch would not have thought very wise, for looking with more admiration upon fiery Meteors, and other apparitions of the Air, than ever they did upon the Sun, by whom we enjoy all that is comfortable in this World;) gladly entertained. For my part, I never looked upon it as a New Method, as to the main end of it: knowing that Numa Pompilius long before, to make his laws received as Oracles, did his best to persuade, that he did not come by them as other men did by theirs; but that they were the fruits of Caves, and retiredness: not to speak of what hath been devised by several Poets in that kind, to enhance their reputation. And it seems the Author did not altogether miss of his aim in that. But for the pretended end of it, to direct others; if he would have dealt ingenuously, he might in two or three lines, that had contained the names but of three or four herbs, have prescribed a fare shorter way. I meddle not with his abilities, what ever they were. I believe he saw much in the mathematics; and he might, in divers other things: though I would not have any man to rely upon his demonstrations, concerning either the being of a God, or the immortality of the Soul. But his abilities I question not: his Method, having so much affinity with this Mystical theology, against which I think too much cannot be said, I could not pass it without some censure. I am one, I confess, that think reason should be highly valued by all creatures, that are naturally rational. Neither do I think we need to seek the Image of God in man elsewhere, then in perfect Reason; such as he was created in. Holiness and righteousness were but fruits of it. Let others admire Witches and Magicians, as much as they will; who by their art can bring them their lost precious things, and Jewels: I honour and admire a good Physician much more, who can (as God's instrument) by the knowledge of nature, bring a man to his right wits again, when he hath lost them: and I tremble (homo sum, & humani à me nihil alienum puto:) when I think that one Mad man is enough to infect a whole Province. Somewhat to that purpose we have had already: and I doubt, whether by this there would have been one sober man left in all Spain, had not the Alumbrados, or Illuminated sect, which also pretended much to Contemplation, and thereby to Ecstasies and mystical unions, been suppressed in time.  
Here I should have ended this Chapter, which hath taken up, I believe, the greatest part of this whole Discourse. But I promised somewhat of Mahomet: I must acquit myself of that before. I have perused several relations of Greek Authors, set out by Sylburgius, an. Dom. 1595, concerning the beginning of Mahomet. They all agree, that a natural disease was his first inducement. Some call it a palsy; but more, and, I believe, more truly, πάθος τῆς ἐπιλεψίας, that is, an epilepsy, or epileptical distemper: of which he made that advantage, as to beget himself Divine authority. Now to such a disease, how naturally incidental strange Visions and Apparitions are, by which the parties themselves, deeming their fancies and visions, realities and truths, are often deceived; I appeal to former examples. I could have told of them too, that have thought books brought unto them by Angels, in their Ecstasies; and some such other things, which may come somewhat near to Mahomet's case. Now whether he might not be deceived at first, before he used other Arts and Impostures, the better to countenance his frenzies, I propose it as a disputable matter. In point of mahometism, as to the horridness of the delusion, whether so or no, it is all one, I know. It makes it neither greater, nor less. Neither do I make any question, but that the Devil was a chief actor in the progress of it. But when we shall consider with ourselves seriously, what these beginnings, that began with epileptical Raptures and Ecstasies, and supposed revelations of Angels, and the like, came to afterwards; it would, it should, I am sure, (and to that end I mention him here,) make men the more wary, either how they give credit to such fits and revelations of others; or how themselves, by their ignorance or indiscretion, expose themselves to delusion.   

CHAP. four Of rhetorical enthusiasm.  
The Contents.  
The nature and causes of Speech, a curious and useful speculation: by the perfect knowledge whereof the deaf and dumb (so naturally) may be taught not only to understand whatsoever is spoken by others; as some (upon credible information) have done in England; but also to speak and to discourse, as one very lately, a nobleman, in Spain. A Spanish book teaching that Art. Another way to teach the dumb to speak, out of Valesius. A dumb man, that could express himself, and understand others perfectly, by writing. Another use of this knowledge, conceited, but not affirmed. ¶ The dependence of reason, and speech; both, λόγος in Greek. Rhetoric, what it is; of what use; and whether absolutely necessary. The matter and method of this Chapter, in four propositions or particulars. I. That divers ancient Orators did really apprehend themselves inspired, etc. Enthusiasm in point of speech, used by some Ancients metaphorically, or figuratively: by some others, properly, for divine inspiration. Longinus, Aristides, Apollonius in Philostratus, Quintilian, upon this subject. Seneca concerning the causes of high conceptions and expressions, inconstant to himself. His violent both stile, (in some places,) and spirit, noted. True valour and magnanimity in meekness, according to Aristotle. A place of Plato considered of. Prov. 16.1. The preparations, etc. II. That rhetoric, or good language hath often had enthusiastic operation upon others. Demagogie, anciently, how powerful: the Athenians, particularly, blinded and bewitched by it. Acts 17.21. concerning the Athenians, illustrated. Philosophical Discourses, what made them powerful. Ancient Orators; Demosthenes and Cicero: their language both read, and heard, how strangely amazing and ravishing; proved by some notable instances. The Sophistae of those times, whose profession, was, to amaze men both by set, & extemporary speeches. Gorgias the first of that profession, how much admired, & almost adored. Their usual Arguments. Their extemporary faculty, or ability publicly and suddenly to discourse of any subject that should be proposed unto them, proved by divers instances. calisthenes. The Tarsenses of Asia Adolescens sine controversia disertus; in Aulus Gellius. This extemporary kind of speaking (by many now fond deemed inspiration) why not so frequent in our days: some reasons given for it. The learning of several tongues, etc. Synesius his way of extemporary speaking, much more strange, and almost incredible. Petavius the Jesuit, his translation of Synesius very faulty; and some examples of his mistakes. III. Whence that apprehension of divine Inspiration. Ardour, Impetus, in Latin Authors: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Greek Authors. God himself, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, according to Hippocrates. Not Heathens only, but Ben Maimon, and Philo Judaeus, both learned Jews, mistaken in this matter. An observation of Ribera the Jesuit considered of. Spiritus in Latin Poets: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Zeal, in the N. T. diversely taken, and diversely (which we think should not be;) translated. IU. What causes, truly natural, of those wonderful operations, mistaken by many for divine and supernatural. That some other cause besides that which is generally apprehended, must be sought or supposed, proved by the example of some notoriously wicked, as Nero, Dionysius, etc. who nevertheless took great pleasure in the exhortations of Philosophers, persuading to goodness and sobriety. As also by the example of poor mechanics, who neglected their trade, to please their ears. Passages out of Seneca and Plinius secundus, to that purpose. First then, The power and pleasure of music, in good language and elocution, proved by sundry all ho●ties, and by arguments taken from the very nature of speech. Ezek. 33.31. etc. Musonius. The 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or artificial collocation of words in speech, a great mystery of Eloquence. Dionys. Halicarn. his Treatise of that subject; and divers others. Contrary faculties working the same effect. A passage of Plutarch considered of. Somewhat of the nature of letters and syllables, and who have written of them. Rhythmus, in matter of prose or speech, what it is. The Organs of speech; and Greg. Nyssen interpreted. Secondly, The pleasure of the eyes in good language. The nature of Metaphors and Allegories. Aristotle, Cicero, Plutarch, (corrected by the way,) and some others, concerning them▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, what kind of figure, and how powerful. Homer and Virgil, their proper praise, and incomparable excellency. Opus emblematicum, vermiculatum, etc. The excellency of that Art, and how imitated in the collocation of words. Dionys. Halicarn. and Hadrianus the Cardinal, their testimony concerning the ravishing power of elegant Elocution. Ancient Orators, their adscribing their extemporary speaking upon emergent occasions to Nescio quis Deus, or immediate Inspiration: and quintilians judgement upon it. ¶ upon this occasion, (as very pertinent to enthusiasm in general, though not to Rhetorical Enthusiasm particularly,) a more general consideration of this Aliquis Deus, or Nescio quis Deus, frequently alleged by the Ancients upon sudden occasions, or evasions. Passages out of Homer, Cicero, Plinius secundus, to that purpose. Plutarch his rule in such cases not allowed of. To make a particular providence of every thing that may be thought to happen extraordinarily, how destructive to God's providence in general. A place of Aristotle's considered of. Cures, anciently, by Dreams and Revelations. M. A. Antoninus, the Roman Emperor. Divine revelations and apparitions in Dreams (upon other occasions too) believed by Galen, etc. sorts Homericae. Something in that kind amongst Christians also; and what to be thought, (if sought and studied) of it. Great caution to be used in such things. Two extremes to be avoided; unthankfulness, and Superstition.  
IN this Chapter we are to consider of the strange, but natural effects of Speech; and of the causes of such effects, both in them that speak, and in them that hear: such effects and such causes, as come within the compass of enthusiasm, according to the apprehensions and expressions of ancient Authors; which is the business of this Treatise. But I will begin with some observations concerning Speech in general: which though they belong not to enthusiasm properly; yet may prove not altogether impertinent to our further inquiries, that may have more immediate relation unto it; and otherwise too not unacceptable, perchance, to the curious and philosophical Reader.  
Few men, even they that consider of many other things, take notice what a rare Art speaking is; or so much as think of it, under the notion of an Art. The reason is, because they were very little when they learned it: and though it were not without much labour and striving; yet they had scarce wit enough to be sensible of it then, or at least, not memory enough now, to remember what they thought of it when so young. It is a curious speculation, to consider what instruments nature hath provided for that use; what is the proper use of every instrument; what resemblance those instruments have to some 
* See more below, in the 4. Particular: where, of Greg. Nyssen, Casserius, etc.  musical instruments; what letters are form by the tongue especially, which by the teeth, which by the roof of the mouth, nose, throat, lips, or otherwise; and by what concurrence, motions, flections and reflections, of such and such of those instruments, inwardly; and by what shapes, signs, and postures of the mouth, lips, and chin, outwardly, the whole business is managed.  
There be many mysteries and secrets of nature belonging to this Art, very worthy to be known. But the use of this knowledge, is fare greater than the curiosity. For by the perfect knowledge of these things, those that are born deaf, and by consequent, naturally dumb, are taught to speak. Whereof a rare example, in the person of a nobleman, was lately seen in Spain: of which many living in England, persons of worth and eminency, have been both eye and ear-witnesses. And for the better satisfaction, and benefit withal of posterity, a book was set out by him that was his master, under this title; Art para ensennar de hablar los mudos: whereof some copies have been in England. Neither could this dumb person only speak himself, but was able also to understand what was said by others, in such a language, and at such a distance. The like whereof (as to this last) hath been seen in England also, if I may credit the relation of two grave Divines: whereof the one affirmed concerning a man, the other concerning a woman, both, deaf and dumb; which nevertheless at a certain distance, and by diligent observation of the motions of the mouth and face, could tell (and would readily answer to it by signs,) what was spoken unto them. But of the woman I was told particularly, that she could understand them only that were beardless: which is a very probable circumstance; as they can best judge, who not only have studied the inward fabric of the mouth, by which words, with air, are immediately form; but also the outward constitution of the mouth and face in general, consisting of so many several muscles, nerves, and what else (〈◊〉 σύνδεσμοι τέτοντες 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) best known unto exact Anatomists: as I find them curiously set out and described by Galen in his books Περὶ ἀνατομινῶν ἐγχειρήσεων, in the fourth book, and elsewhere.  
But that Spaniard, the Author of that book, was not the first that taught the deaf and dumb to speak: as may appear by these words of Franciscus Valesius, De sacra philosophia, cap. 3. Petrus Pontius monachus Sancti Benedicti, amicus meus, natos surdos (res mirabilis) docebat loqui, non alia arte, quam docens primum scribere, res ipsas digito primum indicando, quae characteribus illis significarentur; deinde ad motus linguae qui characteribus responderent, provocando: that is, Petrus Pontius, a Benedictine Monk, a friend of mine, was wont (a wonderful thing!) to teach men that were born dumb, to speak: which he did by no other Art, than first teaching them to write, first pointing at the things themselves with his finger, that were expressed by such and such letters or characters; then using them to such motions of the tongue, which were answerable to those characters. Which words, though not many, may satisfy any man that hath judgement, concerning the possibility of the thing. Rodolphus Agricola, a man well known, and yet for the good use that may be made of his writings, well deserving to be yet better known unto all Scholars, affords unto us this notable example: Surdum vidi, 
Rodolp. Agric. lib. 3. De Inventione.  saith he, etc. I myself have seen one deaf from his infancy, and consequently dumb, to have attained unto this by art, that whatsoever another did write, he was able to read and understand; and himself also, even as any other that can speak, whatsoever was in his mind, he could perfectly express by writing. So he. I believe this is he whom Ludovicus Vives, in his book De Anima, did intent: where, upon occasion of Aristotle's noted axiom, that they that want the sense of hearing, are not capable of discipline, he hath these words: Quo magis miror, fuisse mutum & surdum natum, qui literas didicerit. Fides sit penes Rodolphum Agricolam, qui id memoriae prodidit, & se illum vidisse affirmat. though the expression (qui literas didicerit) be somewhat ambiguous, and more likely to be construed of one that had attained to some learning, as learning is taken commonly for University learning, then of one that had learned to read and write only. However it is unquestionable, that he that had attained to that faculty of writing, to understand, and to be understood generally, as Agricola describeth this man, was very capable of further progress; and not incapable I think, of any liberal Art, or Science, if further pains had been taken with him. But this is another way, by writing; not by bare observation of the instruments of speech, whether internal or external; concerning which our observation began. However this showeth a possibility of the thing, by natural means: which granted, any other cause no less natural and probable may the sooner be believed.  
But there is yet another use to be made of this knowledge, which to some persons and occasions may be very considerable. It is not for the dumb, this that I mean: but for them that can speak; yet would be glad sometimes perchance, upon some special occasions, to know how they might speak, and be spoken unto at a convenient distance, without a tongue, or noise, or almost sign discernible unto others. But this perchance may be but my fancy, and I shall not adventure many words upon it. But certainly the consideration of speech in general (which I began with,) doth afford many both curious and useful speculations; and is a speculation, which once so much pleased me, that I had begun a Diatriba, De ortu & natura sermonis: which also, though not ended, was once half written out for the press; but for want of an amanuensis, it went not further; and is not very likely now, so long after, ever to come to any thing. Yet I have been the more willing to mention these particulars, to excite some body else to undertake so plausible an argument, which may to many be both pleasing in the speculation, and profitable to many purposes. I have done with my Prologue, and shall now proceed to the main business.  
There is not any thing more natural unto man, as he is a man, (that is a rational creature,) than Reason. Whatsoever may seem natural unto man besides, (in this life,) some one or two not very considerable things, as laughing perchance, or weeping, excepted, belongeth unto brutes as well as unto man; and no part of man therefore, as man, properly. Speech is the interpreter, or minister of reason, that is, of rational thoughts, or thoughts engendered in and by a rational soul. Which according to their object may be distinguished into sensual, civil, and intellectual: but always rational, as they flow from a rational cause or principle, which is the soul. Whence it is that brute beasts, though some may be taught to utter many words, and lines perchance; yet cannot be said, properly, to speak, because they understand not, truly and really, any thing that they say. Though some may be brought to some kind of practical, or experimental apprehension of what is spoken unto them; as a Horse, or a Dog may be ruled by some words, which (by common use of man's first institution,) shall be proper to the actions which they perform: yet even then they understand not those words, as words, but sounds only. From that subordination of speech unto reason it is, that the Grecians comprehend both (which nevertheless doth cause ambiguity sometimes,) in one word, λόγος. If therefore Reason be so natural unto man, and Speech unto Reason; it is no wonder, if as Reason is the inward principle, by which the actions of men are guided; so Speech be the most powerful external instrument to the same end, in reference to others.  
Rhetoric (or rhetorical speech,) is a speech dressed with certain devices and allurements, proper to please and to persuade. The use of such devices and allurements, is sometimes good, by the advantage of some sensual delight, the more powerful to enforce, or to insinuate somewhat that of itself is true, right, or reasonable. However, it is a very disputable point, whether bare speech, if well handled, be not sufficient, nay most available to persuade, in things of most weight. For those actions are best grounded, that are grounded upon judgement, upon which bare Speech hath most direct influence; as rhetoric hath upon the Affections: and the fruits of a convicted judgement by calm reason, are likely to be more durable than those that are the effects of any passions, or affections, stirred up by rhetorical powers. But it is an ample subject, upon which Seneca is very copious, and in my judgement hath done very well; though judicious Aristotle in his rhetorics, 
Διὰ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Arist. Rhet. lib. 3. c. 1.  in two words hath comprehended all that needeth to be said in that argument. But this yet, before I leave it; That the providence of God, for the prevention of all doubts and scruples, was great, in that he would not lay the foundation of the Christian Faith, as not in the force of arms, so neither of eloquence, and artificial speech; which is often insisted upon by S. Paul: as 1 Cor. Not with wisdom (σοφίᾳ: those men that were most admired for their eloquence, whom we are to speak of, were anciently called σοφισταί.) of words or speech: ch. 7.17. Not with excellency of speech or of wisdom: ch. 11.1. Not with enticing words of man's wisdom: v. 4. Not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth: v. 13. of the same chapter, and elsewhere. All which, though most true, as would easily be demonstrated, if need were: yet it cannot be denied, that S. Paul in some kind and upon some subjects, is as eloquent as ever man was; not inferior to Demosthenes (whom I have some reason to believe, that he had read very well:) or Aeschines, or any other anciently most admired. But this is by the way only.  
The chief things I propose to myself, as was before intimated, in this Chapter, and which I conceive most pertinent to my undertaking, are these:  
First, That divers ancient Orators did apprehend themselves, and were so apprehended by divers others, to be inspired, or agitated by some higher power then bare nature could pretend unto.  
Secondly, That the power of Oratory hath been such in many Ancients, as that it hath had enthusiastic operation upon others.  
Thirdly, Whence that apprehension of inspiration might probably proceed.  
But fourthly, and lastly, What causes truly natural, can be given of those wonderful operations of rhetoric, which have been mistaken by many for supernatural.  
I. I will not take advantage of the words, ἐνθουσιασμὸς, ενθουσιάζειν, or any other equivalent unto them: because often by Greek Authors used figuratively, where no real enthusiasm or supernatural agitation, so fare at least as can be collected from the words, is intended. Aristotle in his rhetorics, hath the word ενθουσιάζειν, upon this argument, in one Chapter twice. Dionysius Longinus, a very great master of rhetoric, (of whom Christians are bound to think the better, for his candid and ingenuous judgement of Moses his expressions about the Creation of the World; so contrary, and therefore the more considerable, to Galen his impertinent exceptions:) this Longinus, in that small book of his, as now extant, inscribed Περὶ ὕψους, hath many words to that purpose. As when he saith speaking of that kind of language, which when I was a Boy in the University, 
Longinus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. ed. in quarto, Bafil. p. 7. Oxon. in octavo, cum Notis viri Cl. Guil. L. p. 11.  was called strong lines; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Many, men, saith he, whilst they strain their wits to find somewhat that is very extraordinary, and may relish of some rapture, or enthusiasm; they plainly rave, [or, play the fools,] and not ravish. The same Longinus again, speaking of the power of rhetoric, in rhetorical expressions: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
The English of these passages is not material; because tending only to show the use of the word. See also at the end of 4. Particular: of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc.  And again, p. 61. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. And again, pag. 69. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And of Plato, p. 113. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: etc. It appears by those qualifications, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that he intended it only after a sort, as things may be compared, not really. Indeed Longinus, though a heathen by profession, yet was not very superstitious; as may appear by this, that he durst challenge Homer, (upon whom especially all heathenish Theology was grounded,) though but a Poet, of atheism and gross absurdity, for making his Gods to fight with men; and not only to fight, but receive wounds also. But Aristides on the other side, an excellent Orator, it cannot be denied, and rational enough in other things, but as very a bigot, as ever was, of a heathen; who fancied Gods in every dream, and tells us of so many wonderful cures by nocturnal sights and revelations; who gave credit to the very Gypsies, in telling of fortunes: he not only of himself particularly, in his Περὶ τοῦ παραφθέγματος, speaks very positively and peremptorily, as inspired by God, in his Orations; (of which more afterwards:) but of rhetoric in general, in his 1a contra Platonem, as positively and confidently maintaineth, not only that it is the gift of God, (which might very well be allowed;) as all other good and useful things are; but also, if right and excellent, that it comes by immediate inspiration, as Oracles and prophecies; without Study or Learning, or so much as Nature. Though indeed afterwards in the same long Oration, because he would not be wanting to his profession in any kind, he takes in both Nature, and Art, or Learning too; and would have them to belong to rhetoric, though not to all Orators, as he maintaineth of immediate inspiration. Such another as Aristides, for matter of superstition, but more dangerous for craft and subtlety, and a great Magician too, if all be true which even by ancient Christians is recorded of him, was Apollonius, that wand'ring Philosopher; (opposed by ancient Heathens, who adscribed Deity unto him, to Christ:) who being asked by the Governor of Rome under Nero, Τίς ἡ σοφία, what was his profession; 
Philostr. in vita Apol. lib. 4. edit. Ald. quatern. d. 4. initio pag.  gave him this bold answer; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, Inspiration (by inspiration understanding chief, as in all likelihood, his persuasive and bewitching rhetoric, whereof he gave such proof in all places:) and how men should pray, and sacrifice unto the Gods; or, by what prayers and sacrifices the Gods are best served and pleased. But Apollonius was an extraordinary man, that cannot be denied: and it is not impossible but that he might be inspired indeed; but by what power, may appear by all his deeds and endeavours: of which Eusebius in his Treatise against Hierocles, that had written of him of purpose to prefer him before Christ, hath taken a brief survey, showing great moderation (which is not ordinary,) in his Censures. Not to meddle then with such extraordinary men and examples: That it was a common opinion among the Scholars of his time, that rhetoric and good lines came more by enthusiasm then otherwise, may appear by Quintilian; who having elsewhere described the fantastic, or rather phrenetick gesture and behaviour of divers, when they were to compose; in his tenth book and twelfth chapter, he hath these words: Vt possimus autem scribere etiam plura celerius, non exercitatio modo praestabit, in qua sine dubio multum est; sed etiam ratio: si non resupini spectantesque lectum, & cogitationem murmure agitantes, exspectaverimus quid obveniat; sed quid res poscat, quid personam deceat, quod sit tempus, qui judicis animus, intuiti, humano quodam modo accesserimus. This, I think, is the reading of most editions: which I will not warrant to be perfect; though more perfect, I believe, and correct, then that of Aldus his edition, which in this place, certainly, goes furthest from the true. A little labour perchance might help the business. My opinion is, that one, and but one word is wanting, which by reason of the affinity with the former, might very well excidere, or be passed over: as is very frequent in all Manuscripts. But since he may be understood without it, I will spare my further labour.  
But it is well worthy our observation, that Seneca the Philosopher, 
Senec. the tranquil. cap. ult.  so learned a man, doth seem to have been of that opinion too: Ne potest grande aliquid, & supra caeteros loqui, nisi mota mens. Cum vulgaria & solita contempsit, instinctuque sacro surrexit excelsior; tunc demum aliquid cocivit grandius ore mortali. Non potest sublime quicquam & in arduo positum contingere, quamdiu apud se est. Desciscat oportet à solito, & efferatur, & mordeat fraenos, & rectorem rapiat suum, eoque ferat, quo per se timuisset 
* It is so in best edit. not, ascend. lest any should think it a mistake.  escendere. Here is perfect enthusiasm, with allusion to the Sibylls, and such others as were generally conceived to be possessed. Yet, whether Seneca himself did believe so much, as his words seem to import, is a question: it being his manner, to be very high and tumid in his expressions; which nevertheless a sober reader will not always take to the utmost of what they will bear. But to his reasons and arguments. I believe Aristotle, here quoted by Seneca, that all transcendent wits are subject to some mixture: neither do I believe that ever any great work, that was a fruit of the brain, and that begot admiration, was achieved, but was also the fruit of some natural enthusiasm; if all elevation of the mind above ordinary thoughts and conceptions, (to which, among other helps, a generous contempt of the world doth much conduce;) must be so called. But if Seneca thought really, as Aristides did; what he chief grounded upon, shall be examined in due place. In the mean time, before I leave Seneca, the Reader may take notice of his inconstancy; who, what he doth here so gloriously set out, doth not stick elsewhere to ascribe unto savageness and immanity: the proper temper of Tyrants, and bloodthirsty men. Ac nescio quomodo, saith he, ingema immania & invisa, 
Sen. 2. de Clem. c. 2.  materia foecundiori, expresserunt sensus vehemontes & concitatos. Nullam adhuc vocem audivi ex bono lenique animosam. For his Sensus vehementes & concitati, to be natural enough to such a disposition, we would not quarrel with him. But that no man, naturally good and mild, ever spoke courageously, or never was the author of any apophthegm, that resented of a gallant spirit: which is in effect as much as to say, that goodness or meekness, and a gallant spirit, are things incompatible: is a speech that resenteth little of either a Philosopher, or a sober man. The contrary, quite contrary to this, is divinely asserted, and proved by the Prince of Philosophers, divine Aristotle, both in 
* Arist. 3. Ethic. c. 8. Polit. lib. 9 c. 4. οὐχ ὁρῶμεν τὴν ἀνδρίαν 〈◊〉, etc.  his ethics and politics. But we need not, in this, appeal to any other then Seneca himself, Epist. 85. Non est enim fortitudo etc. and elsewhere. We must therefore conclude, that Seneca in this place was, against reason, overswayed by his own genius, being a man of a violent spirit naturally, as appears by him in many places; and would have appeared much more, had not Reason and Philosophy moderated it: and that by animosam vocem we must understand, rather violent and furious, such as he hath sometimes, then truly magnanimous.  
I think this is enough to my first point, to satisfy the reader not versed in ancient Authors, that it is so as I have said. Yet I must crave the liberty to consider of a notable passage in Plato. Not that I think it very needful; nor perchance, if well understood, very pertinent: but because it may seem, by reason of the words, so pertinent unto some others that shall light upon it, that I may be blamed, for the considerableness of the Author, if I should leave it out. In a Dialogue of his, inscribed Menon, wherein he treateth of virtue, whether it may be taught, etc. in the end of it he hath these words: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. that is, As we rightly call all Oracle-Priests, Prophets, and Poets, divine; so may we as rightly style divine and divinely-agitated, all civil Orators: these also, whensoever they speak publicly, as they ought to speak, of great matters and with like eloquence, being certainly inspired by God, and plainly possessed [at all such times,] as not understanding any thing themselves, of those things which they speak and deliver. Here first of all I will suppose, that the Reader not read in Plato, will stick at those words, as not understanding any thing, etc. It is true indeed, that as he compares them to Oracle-Priests and Prophets, who for the most part understood not what they said themselves, the words may be thought pertinent enough: but how truly either Poets or Orators may be compared unto such, (if the comparison be so strictly pressed,) will be the question. Yes, rightly enough, according to Plato's doctrine; who distinguisheth (in that very Dialogue) between ὀρθύς δόξας, right opinions, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, the science or knowledge of right opinions, grounded upon clear demonstrations of sound reason. Which until a man have attained unto, Plato's opinion is, that whatsoever he doth, though right and just, according as his present opinion and apprehension leads him, yet he doth it ignorantly; and is still liable to do the contrary at another time, and to think that just and right, until his opinion be turned into science. Though therefore, if things be strictly examined, there is great difference between Poets, or Orators, and those Oracle-Priests and Prophets, in point of knowledge, generally; because these did not so much as grammatically understand, what they did utter: yet in point of true knowledge, which presupposeth the consideration of causes, etc. they are said by Plato to know nothing, no more than those. But now to the point of Inspiration. Had not Plato so joined Poets and civil Orators together; though it may be he did not intent an absolute conjunction of these neither, in all respects, no more than his similitude of Poets and Orators, with Oracle-Priests and Prophets, will hold in all respects; but had not he so joined them, I should have made no question, but that his assertion herein had been very sound and orthodox: to wit, that when great statesmen, Princes and Senators make public speeches unto the people about great matters, as peace or war, (for of such men and matters especially his words are to be understood, as appeareth by the persons by him mentioned before, Themistocles, Aristides and the like;) and such other things; that God, whose providence hath an influence, more or less, upon all events, doth move them to speak those things, which may conduce to those ends Himself hath forecast, or condescended unto: whether by permission only, or by approbation; to punish, or to bless; or any other way, best known unto himself. Which is no more, I believe, than was intended by Solomon, when he saith, The preparations of the heart are in man: but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord: Proverb. 16. ver. 1. I vary somewhat from our English Translation, which herein varies much in sense (though the words seem to be the same,) from the best, both Translators and Expositors. But we have warrant enough from the ninth verse, where the same thing in other words is repeated, and well expressed, there, in our English; A man's heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps. But I have done with Plato.  
II. Our second point is, a consideration of the efficacy of ancient rhetoric. I will not insist upon Demagogie, so called anciently, though it be the chiefest, and almost only Oratory in most places, either used or desired. But I will not meddle with it, because it may be conceived, that divers other things, in such matters of State and Government, might concur to produce those bewitching effects, for which it became so infamous, where most used. I remember a witty passage (if I may so fare digress,) in Thucydides, where an ancient Orator gives this character of the Athenians, 
Thucyd. Hist. lib. 3.  (Athens being the place where rhetoric had its first birth, and was brought to an height greater than it ever had in any other place,) that they were a people, that did hear with their eyes, and see with their ears: meaning thereby, that they gave ordinarily, in matters of greatest concernment, more credit to the smooth bewitching language of their Orators and Demagogues, being led by them to many actions contrary to all sense and reason, yea and their own proper interest; then they gave to their own eyes, which otherwise, if not so mightily overswayed and clouded by their ears, would easily have discerned the truth of things, and their own folly. But if that were not worth a digression, this now to be added may, perchance: that the Greek Scholiast, upon that very place, (who by some learned men is thought very ancient:) hath a character of the Athenians, which agrees verbatim with that of S. Luke's, Acts 17. ver. 21. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
I will confine myself, as near as I can, to such examples and instances, where nothing but bare language, all other interests laid aside, (nay sometimes bare language, against all other interests,) can be suspected to have been operative. Neither shall I, for the same reason, insist upon some notable effects of some philosophical Discourses, by which some extremely vicious in their lives, were suddenly reclaimed, and so much changed, as that they became great examples of virtue to all after-ages. We could produce the testimonies of ancient Fathers of the Church, as well as of heathen Writers for it, if need were. But I should do true Philosophy much wrong, to ascribe that unto rhetoric, which was her proper work, though not without some rhetoric perchance. I shall rather say with Seneca, 
Sen. Epist. 108.  Rapuit illos, instigavitque rerum pulchritudo, non verborum inanium sonitus; that is, Not the sound of vain [or empty] words, but the excellency of the matter delivered by those words, was it that wrought upon them so powerfully. who nevertheless shows very well afterwards the good use of skilful composure, as we shall in the progress of this Discourse, have occasion to show more at large. That we may keep ourselves therefore within the bounds of rhetoric, and yet not such rhetoric neither, that should be verborum inanium sonitus; but such, wherein all artificial ornaments of good language are most eminent; we will pitch upon them especially, whose very profession and proper character, by which they were known from others, whether Philosophers or Orators, was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, ostentation; and their end, (as themselves professed,) and work, in reference to others, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, amazement. And these were the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Sophists, then called, as by others commonly, so by themselves; who thought that title more honourable, then that of either Orator, or Philosopher: and in very deed, raised it to that height of estimation, under some Emperors, that even Princes and noblemen were ambitious of it themselves; and thought it no disparagement to their greatness, to seek unto them that were such really, for their friendship, and to repair to their Schools and Oratories, to be their Auditors.  
But before I speak of them, because my subject is Rhetorical enthusiasm in general, I must not do those famous, and truly incomparable Orators (for no Age we know of, ever brought forth the like, or will in haste, probably:) Demosthenes and Cicero, that wrong, as to pass them in silence. For Demosthenes, I shall say no more of him, neither need I am sure, than this, that Dionysius Habicarnasseus, a man of great abilities himself in point of eloquence, and of great judgement (his chiefest praise, and profession) to judge of the abilities of others, rather severe, then favourable in most of his Censures, doth very soberly deliver and protest of himself, that when he did set himself to read any of Demosthenes his Orations, he did plainly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, 
Dion. Halicarn. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  that he was really besides himself, being filled with strange passions, and amazement, not able to keep one place, nor knowing what he did, or how to express himself. Whereby, saith he, we may guess how those of his time, that heard him, and were interested themselves in those businesses, (the subject of those Orations,) were affected: when the bare reading hath such operation upon us, so little concerned in them, and so long after. But may my Reader ask, perchance, Will the reading of Demosthenes work the like now, upon every one that reads him, in his own language; or did then, in those days, when this Dionysius wrote, as it did upon him? No; it did not, I believe, not even then; nor will now, certainly. For I have been present at admirable ravishing music, as I have thought, and most others that were there; and yet have heard some then and there also present profess, that they were not at all affected with it: who nevertheless, did also profess to be much delighted with some other kind. And he that should set a three-peny Bauble, in comparison, varnished with many curious colours, set out with gold and silver; and some old decayed piece, of some ancient Carver, Painter, or Statuary, of great fame and reputation; both these before some countryman, or any other not skilful: it is a great chance, if the Bauble be not preferred before the other, though perchance by men of judgement deemed invaluable; and de facto purchased at a great rate. This may be one reason why all men are not equally affected with such incomparable pieces: but we shall have more of that, before we have done with this Chapter. However, though not all equally that heard him, neither, I believe; yet certain it is by the testimony of all Histories, that most that heard him when he lived, after they had heard him a while, would be so affected with it, that they had not power of themselves, but were carried by him whether he would, and forced to do many things against their own judgements and resolutions: as Aeschynes, his great enemy and professed antagonist, doth himself acknowledge; who therefore doth plainly charge him of no less than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, Sorcery, or Enchantment, but yet such Enchantment, as he doth acknowledge merely to proceed from the excellency of his Language, and artificial Composure. As for Cicero, of whom judicious Quintilian doth pass this judgement, 
Quintil. lib. 10. c. 1.  (which was Pliny the later his judgement also, and of all the learned Ancients:) that he may think well of his own proficiency, who gins to relish Cicero above all other Authors; yet for all that, is very fearful to equal him to Demosthenes: of him, besides what he writes of himself, that not only the parties themselves accused by him, when they should have spoken for themselves, but even their Advocates, though bold enough, as approved and exercised Orators otherwise, have been struck by his Oratory into such amazement, 
Cic. in Oratore.  that they could not speak one word; in so much, that some complained openly, venenis ereptam sibi memoriam, that they were really bewitched: I shall content myself, and my reader, I hope, with a relation that I find in Plutarch, (though not upon his own credit, 
Plut. in vita Cic.  but upon common fame,) which is this. In the Civil wars between Caesar and Pompeius, among many others of the better sort that had followed Pompey, one was Ligarius: who not only had followed Pompey, but stuck to his party after his death, to the very last. In so much that Caesar, though (as naturally very clement) he had pardoned and restored many others, yet was resolved concerning Ligarius, and had already been heard to speak of him, as of a condemned man, before ever Cicero appeared to his defence. However, partly out of respect to his person, and partly good opinion of his parts, he was willing to hear what Cicero could say. But when he had begun, and was now pretty well entered in the business, using his best art, as, by pathetical expressions, and commemorations of those sad times, and doubtful events of fiercest encounters, and otherwise, to move; so, to insinuate, by graceful words: Caesar was so affected, that his very face suffering many changes in a little time, sufficiently bewrayed the inward commotion of his soul: until at last, passion and amazement had so wholly possessed him, that his whole body began to tremble; so that he let some papers fall to the ground out of his hands, because he was not able to hold them. and in conclusion, Cicero had no sooner done speaking, than Caesar, without any further deliberation, acquitted him for whom he had spoken.  
Well; of Demosthenes and Cicero, so famous in all Ages, and so much admired by all the best Wits of all Ages, happily so much as we have said, may pass without any great difficulty: but now we come to the Sophistae; of whose profession generally, (having no other end, most of them, but the praise and admiration of the people;) I profess myself to have little better opinion, then of ordinary Jugglers and Mountebanks. Of such to tell the world in what admiration they have been anciently, and what wonders they did among men, with their smooth and voluble tongues; although I shall tell nothing but upon good ground, and what I myself believe to be true; yet I do not almost know how to expect from others, not versed in ancient Authors, that I should be believed: neither indeed can I write myself such things, without some indignation and reluctancy, out of a deep sense and commiseration of the vanity of man: whether we consider the Sophistae themselves and their performances; or those that were so readily bewitched by their rhetoric, and so set upon their admiration, for what they performed. But I hope, and upon that hope I take these pains, that the benefit unto the Reader may be considerable, when we come to the consideration of the causes, by the understanding whereof much error and delusion, very frequent in the world, may be prevented.  
The first of the profession was one Gorgias, who lived when Plato lived. We shall begin with him, and end with him too, as to particular instances, for aught I know: since that by him, (who as he was first in time, so in credit, in all after-Ages;) may all the rest of that sect be sufficiently known. This Gorgias, being a man of excellent natural parts himself, observing how much credit one Prodicus, of his time, had got with his tongue, going up and down the country, from town to town, and from village to village, with no other pass, nor ware, then somewhat (whether in paper, or memory,) he had devised and composed at home by way of exhortation to men, to embrace virtue rather than pleasure, by the example of Hercules, (the common talk of all men and women in those days,) somewhat dramatically and pithily set out; which although it were always, and every where, but one and the same subject, yet was entertained every where with great concourse of people, and begot him great love and fame, both fare and near: this Gorgias observing, was thereby much encouraged to apply himself to the study of eloquent and ready language; and besides continual exercises, which much improved his natural abilities, was very happy in devising several schemes and figures of rhetoric, that had not been thought of before: though later ages, whether more exact, or more nice, did not approve of all his inventions; as by Longinus, Hermogenes, and other masters of that Art, may appear. But whatever later Ages thought of him, he sped so well in his own, that encouraged by former success, he adventured at last to show himself in the greatest set, or solemn assembly of people, that I think ever was in any part of the world; and that was at the Olympic Games, solemnised by concourse of almost all Nations, in a place of Greece, every fifth year: from whence also the noblest Computation of time, (among heathens,) commonly called the Olympiads, had its origine. There Gorgias appeared among others, that came to make themselves known, and to get immortal honour by their unmatchable performances. And he appeared not only in, and with set and premeditated speeches; for which nevertheless, he got such applause, as if he had been the God of Eloquence himself, rather than an eloquent man: but also, which had never been known before, offered himself publicly to speak readily, without any preparation or meditation at all, of any subject, or argument, that should be proposed unto him by any man. From that place and time, Gorgias departed so glorious, that it might have been thought altogether impossible to make his fame greater in the world, than it was. Yet he got some increase of honour afterwards, when his Statue was made, and erected in Apollo's Temple, of pure gold, for a Speech that he had made at one of the Pythian Solemnities: and again, when the Athenians, for a reward of divers Speeches which he had uttered there, whether by Decree, or a voluntary concurrence of affections, all such days wherein he had spoken publicly, they called them holy days; and all Speeches by him uttered, they called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, Tapers or Torches: burning Torches being a thing sacred among them in those days, and used (though at noonday) in some of their greatest festivals; which from that use, as Harpocration in his dictionary, and others teach, were called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I do not expect it should be believed that all Sophists since Gorgias, were men of such either merits, or fame, as he was. I have already given him the preeminence, as of time, so of reputation. I know not any after him, that came to that height of fame: though I know of some, men of great fame too, since him, and of the same profession as he was, that imputed his fame to his luck, (which wise 
* Ecclesiast. ch. 9 v. 11. but time and chance: by which words what is to be understood, hath been showed elsewhere.  Solomon tells us, hath more power in the world, than merit:) more than to his worth. So Aelianus, a man of elaborate eloquence, in that sophistical way, doth somewhere judge of him, I am sure. However, there were Sophists since that first, many, that attained to so much reputation by their Eloquence, as to be admired every where for it, and to draw men after them, even great ones, by it; and by their favour, to be admitted into places of great trust and authority. But I shall avoid to be longer upon this particular, than I must needs: I have given some reason for it already; and another reason is, because one Cresollius, a Jesuit, hath taken great pains upon that subject, in a book entitled, Theatrum veterum Rhetorum, etc. printed at Paris, 1620. wherein he doth prosecute that argument of the Sophists, and all things belonging unto them; their beginning, their credit, their ways, their faults, and the like, out of ancient Greek and Latin Authors, with great diligence. Some of those particulars, that may be most considerable to our purpose, we shall further insist upon; but no further then to make use of them, either now, or afterwards.  
First, for the subject of their speeches; it was various and voluntary. Sometimes the praises of Gods, or Men; and sometimes of towns, or Countries; yea of Birds, as of a Parrot, or a Peacock. Sometimes, exhortations to virtue; the commendation of Temperance, Justice, sobriety, and the like. Sometimes pleasant tales, or fables: any thing, wherein they might show their wit and eloquence; their end, (I speak of the generality,) being nothing else, but to gain credit unto themselves: as the end of their Auditors, what ever was the subject, was delight and pleasure.  
Now for that faculty of theirs of extemporary speaking upon any subject, it was their common profession, that is most certain: and it was accordingly performed by many of them, with singular dexterity, to the great amazement of all their Auditors. There be in ancient Authors many proofs and examples of it. I remember I have read somewhere, that calisthenes, whom some call Sophist, some, Philosopher, being invited at a great Feast made by Alexander the Great, to say somewhat in the commendation of the Macedonians; performed it so gallantly, that he got great praise from all the company. But Alexander, who it seems was willing to try him further, and bore him no very good will; and perchance, suspected withal, that he came prepared; excepting, that it was no very hard task for any ordinary Orator to be fluent upon such a subject; if therefore he would give certain proofs of his abilities in that kind, his way would be, to dispraise the said Macedonians as fluently: calisthenes undertook it, and performed it so effectually, (for which his discretion was not commended by all men;) that though his abilities were admired, yet his person grew hateful among the Macedonians for it, and the more he was admired, the less thanks he got for his pains. The Tarsenses of Asia, among the rest, as they are by Ancients for their love to learning in general, so, particularly noted to have excelled in this faculty: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that they could extend themselves without bounds upon a sudden, upon any subject that was given them: as Strabo, that faithful Historian and Geographer, witnesseth. And that, not in prose only, but in verse also, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the same Author speaketh; that is, as men speaking by divine instinct, or, inspired by the God of poetry. Strabo, Geograph. lib. 14. In Aulus Gellius also (lib. 9 cap. 15.) we have an example of a confident youth, (as indeed it is most given to such to be confident:) who not content with the applause of his ordinary light auditory, would needs make show of his abilities in point of extemporary speaking upon any controverted point that should be proposed, before some that were well able to discern between matter and words, shadow and substance: a thing, even in those days, rare enough. Whereupon a controversy (as they called them) being proposed, he presently fell to work with great volubility of tongue: for which as he was much applauded and admired by his common auditors; so from them that could judge he got this testimony, that without controversy (adolescens sine controversia disertus, in my Author:) he was an able and eloquent speaker: that is, one that could say much, very readily and fluently; but pertinently, and to the purpose, not at all.  
But that which moveth me more than all this, to believe that great matters in this kind were performed by many Sophists of old, according to their profession, is, that I find even Quintilian, 
Quintilian. See more below, towards the end of this Chapter.  a sober, solid man, to make this a chief end and fruit of long pains and exercises in the art of rhetoric; to attain to such a faculty, as to be able upon any sudden occasion to speak pertinently, without any premeditation. Which being so rare a thing in our days, that a man, if he can utter any thing, which may seem to be extempore; though perchance it do but seem so, and that it be performed but very meanly; is by many, (who therefore upon that account, swallow down pure nonsense sometimes, with better content, than they will hear much better and more profitable matter, that is delivered with some study and premeditation:) by many deemed, I say, no less then inspired: this would make a man suspect, that as a decay of bodies is maintained by many in this elder age of the world; so, probably, of wits must be granted. But if the matter be well considered of, I think it may be granted that the Ancients fare exceeded us in this faculty; but yet not so much through any excess of Wit, as of industry. Who is it of a thousand, or a million, that could take the pains, or scarce believe the relation of the pains that Demosthenes took, before he came to that perfection, that made him so famous? Or who would believe, were it not so certainly attested, that noblemen and Senators of Rome, in the greatest heat of the civil wars, could be at leisure to declaim by turns (for want of real opportunities in that confusion of time,) in their Halls, as boys do in Schools and Universities; for fear that through the discontinuance of some months or years, they should lose that faculty, of speaking readily, which long study (for the most of them,) and constant practice, had made them masters of? But besides all this, it may be considered, (is very considerable, I am sure;) that these eloquent men had no strange tongue to learn; or if any, not above one at most: but only, to perfect themselves in the use of their mother-tongue. Whereas now no man can pretend to learning, or very difficultly, that doth not understand two or three tongues, besides that which is natural unto him: not because learning itself doth consist in the knowledge of tongues more now, than it did in those days; but because neither of those tongues, then in common use, are natural now unto any people: the one whereof is now become the common tongue of all Nations, (for this part of the world,) unto such as are Scholars; the other, though not so common, yet not less, or more necessary, to make a Scholar, as the proper tongue, by reason of the Authors that have written in it, of all Arts and Sciences; and without which best books cannot be read, if not translated; (as to this day very many are not:) or if translated, few so translated, as to afford the tenth part of that either pleasure, or profit, which they will in their own language. Besides that some are bound by their profession to endeavour the knowledge of some tongues; as all Divines, of the Greek and Hebrew, because of the Bible, or Rule of Faith, written in those two languages: for the reading of which in its proper language, there is the same reason, as for the reading of other books in their own, as to matter of content, or benefit; but much more reason in point of conscience, if a man shall think himself bound, as some may, to make use of his own eyes, that God hath given him, the better to satisfy himself and others, in matters of such trust and consequence; then for want of willingness to take pains, to depend altogether on the skill and fidelity of others.  
With this faculty of extemporary speaking, I find somewhat in Synesius, that hath great affinity, and deserveth no less admiration. In his Dio, that excellent piece, once before commended, but well deserving to be commended more than once, he tells us, at the later end of it, of a way that he had, to exercise his wit and invention, often by him practised. He would take a book; some rhetorical piece, philosophical discourse, or the like; read in it a pretty while; then upon a sudden shut his eyes, or turn them another way, and yet still continue his reading: that is, at the same instant invent and utter somewhat, that might be proper to the subject, and so coherent to that which he had read, that no body (by the style, or matter) could judge otherwise, but that he was still reading. It is likely that he often practised it by himself, before he adventured to do it before others: but he saith he did it often before others; and that his extemporary conceptions were often applauded, and preferred by his Auditors, who knew nothing of it, before that which he had really read. Nay more than that, (which indeed may very properly be referred to some kind of enthusiasm:) that what he so supplied by his extemporary wit, did sometimes prove to be the very same that he found afterwards in the book. I know, no man is bound to believe him, upon his own testimony concerning himself; neither shall I easily charge any man of infidelity, that professeth he doth not. However, I have that opinion of the man, of his uprightness and sincerity, besides his learning, and that apprehension, upon some grounds, of the possibility of the thing; that I shall not be afraid to profess my opinion to the contrary, that I do believe him. But here again, not to upbraid any man for his good will, but to warn the Reader, that may be the better for it; I must wish that Synesius were generally, but in this his Dio especially, better translated into Latin, (though I could almost wish, that there had never been any translations made of any such Greek book:) than it is by Petavius the Jesuit. At the very entrance of this discourse of Synesius of this his kind of reading, he translates 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, probationes rationis expertes: which is very absurd. For by it Greek Authors understand such external proofs or evidences, whether divine, as Oracles, or civil, as Witnesses, as admit of no rhetoric, or reasoning: by Aristotle, Quintilian, and other masters of that Art, called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Which may be rendered (as by Tully somewhere) artis expertes, well enough; because easily understood, as opposed to artificial: but not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in this sense, rationis expertes; which is commonly understood of brutes, in opposition to those creatures which are rational, or ratione utentes, as Cicero speaketh. However, I like better, even here, quintilians expression, inartificiales; not so elegant perchance, but more clear. So before, in this very book, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is not, cujus nulla ratio adferri queat; but a Law set out without any ratiocination, to induce men from the reasonableness or equity of it, to obedience; but by way of bare command, and authority, though never so just, and reasonable otherwise: by Seneca, Plutarch, and other Ancients observed to be the proper style of Laws, and which doth best become them. And therefore, where few lines after that first passage, Synesius faith, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ it should not have been translated, ut lex in orationem, but, in rationem mutetur. But here again, when Synesius saith, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: how absurdly is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 translated calamitas? Besides what learned men have noted of the original use of the word, it is so obvious in the contrary sense, (I will appeal but to Isocrates, a very plain Author, in his Oration to Philip:) and the coherence in this place, so contrary to that other; as a man would admire how any man could so mistake. And this I speak of the use and signification of the word, which is obvious and known. But there is somewhat more proper & particular, in the use of it in this place, as it is applied unto books by Synesius, which I shall not now insist upon. Yet I would not be so unkind to Petavius, as he hath been to some, that deserved better respect at his hands. His translation of Synesius, for the most part, is elegant and good enough. I wish there were none worse. But I would have no man to trust to it in obscure places; seeing that in clear and plain he doth often mistake. But I am out of my general subject and scope, to which I must return: though I cannot call that a digression properly, to which the prosecution of my first subject hath so naturally led me.  
III. We are now to consider of the cause, or causes, first of the opinion, these, whether Orators or Sophists, had of themselves, as inspired: then, of the effects their rhetoric did produce upon others. In the first point I shall not be long, because, I shall therein but anticipate the consideration of the causes of enthusiasm in general, for which we reserve a particular chapter at the end, where this particular cause shall come in again among others: though here so fare anticipated of purpose, (and care shall be taken, that we shall repeat as little as may be:) to give the more light to the things here to be handled and delivered. Briefly then: A Heat, a fervent Heat, a Fire; which powerful Orators found in themselves, not at the uttering, though than greatest, but upon another consideration; but in conceiving and composing their speeches; so generally observed and acknowledged, that some have thought, that no other art or thing was necessary to make a perfect Orator: that Heat, that fervent Heat, that Fire, hath been the ignis fatuus, we say, that hath infatuated many Speakers into that opinion of divine Inspiration. Ardour and Impetus, are the words used by Latin Authors to this purpose. Nulla me ingenii, sed magna vis animi inflammat, ut me ipse non teneam; saith Cicero of himself. But this indeed he speaks not of all composition in general, but of such as is intended properly to move compassion. However, he hath the word ardour elsewhere, upon other occasions, often enough. Aristides calls it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a fire: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; He compares it to that heat, by which soldiers at the first joining of the battle, are usually carried, and inflamed, beyond all sense of death and danger: of which in its proper place. And few lines after: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Here we have two words: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, heat; and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, fire. Now according to Hypocrates, to whose writings Aristotle was much beholding, 
Hippocr. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: or as others more probably, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: initio libri.  not only whatsoever doth rule and govern in man, called Wit, Judgement, wisdom, or whatever else, is a heat, or fire: (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc.) but even God himself is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, heat: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. It is not therefore so much to be wondered, that heathens should mistake herein; as that such a one as Ben Maimon, a man so skilful in the Law of God, and so profound a Philosopher, should not distinguish between that influentia divina, or that ignis Arden's, that burning fire, that inspired, or inflamed, if you will, holy Prophets, as Jeremy and others; and that partly natural, and partly supernatural (we shall explain ourselves more fully afterwards, in some other chapter:) heat, or fire, common, or incidental at least, unto all men by nature, by which Arts and Sciences have been brought forth to light and perfection; nay all Books in general▪ 
More Nev. lib. 2. c. 37.  (for so he teacheth,) by all men written and composed. Just so Philo Judaeus, a man of the same race, (but much more ancient, 
Phil. Jud. De migrat. Abrah. ) and worth, in his kind; because sometimes when he purposed to compose somewhat, though he earnestly (he saith) endeavoured it, and thought himself suffciently prepared, nothing would come; and at other times he found himself so full and fluent, that he could not hold himself, but was as it were transported by the vehemency of his operative wit and fancy, so that he would even forget himself, and the place where he was: he deemed this a sufficient ground, to think himself immediately inspired by a higher power.  
I have met with an observation in Ribera the Jesuit; as considerable a man, for what he hath done upon the Scriptures, as most of that profession. I do not like his words, though I believe his meaning is right enough. His words are: 
Ribera in Com. in Hos. cap. 5.  Ita et aliarum, rerum, sive bonarum, sive malarum, spiritus dicuntur; ut spiritus zelotypiae, avaritiae, superbiae: qui solet Latinorum consuetudine, ardour animi dici, etc. That the word spirit in the Scripture is ascribed to divers evils, as his effects, (whether by immediate operation, suggestion, ministry, or otherwise,) who amongst other names, is styled sometimes, the Evil Spirit, I know: but that when any good things are ascribed to the spirit, the same is meant, which by Latin Poets (for out of them doth Ribera produce his examples;) is designed by this word ardour, or ardour animi, I do not know how it can be made good; is somewhat ambiguous, I am sure. Neither indeed do I mention it as an error in the man; but of his expression only, which by some other may be mistaken for his meaning. But if a man will make an observation upon words and language, he might further observe, that Heathens did not only use the word ardour, to express their heat in this kind; but even the word Spirit. So Ovid: At sacri vates, etc. Sedibus aetheriis spiritus ille venit. And again; Sic ubi mota calent sacro mea pectora thyrso; Altior humano spiritus ille malo est. And this spirit is no less than a very God unto him, elsewhere. Est Deus in nobis etc. as afterwards, in its proper place, out of him, or some other of greater authority than he, shall be declared. But we give it place here, because this ardour, heat, or spirit, that possesseth Orators and Poets, yea soldiers and others, was by divers heathens deemed but one and the same, in its nature, though working so differently, as hereafter shall be showed. Now on the other side, that ardour mentis is sometimes used by Christian Writers for spiritus sanctus, is observable too: but we keep it for another place. However, I think that expression very improper, and dangerous. And whereas the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or zeal, according to the Scriptures, is oftentimes an effect of the holy Spirit; but often too, according to the same Scriptures, of the evil: as for example, 1 Cor. 3.3. 2 Cor. 12.20. and elsewhere, frequently: In all such places, I wish the word zeal had been left in the translations, as well as in other places, where used in the best sense; that every reader might have understood that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, zeal, or fervent heat, in desires and prosecutions, is of itself no more to true godliness and religion, than a good voice, or an eloquent tongue, or any thing else of the same kind; which being natural, if it be sanctified by Grace, or some degrees of Grace, and good intentions, may be called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (as Rom. 10.2. the Apostle speaketh;) that is, a zeal of God, or rather, for God, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (John 2.17,) zeal for the house: but not absolutely good and godly, for all that; yea sometimes very pernicious, (Philip. 3.6. and John 16.2.) until it be guided by a true light, that is, by sound and orthodox principles: but if, as very commonly, the instrument of carnal ends and affections, and misguided withal by false doctrine, than 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a devilish zeal, as S. James teacheth chapter 3.14, 15. Now for the spirit of God, or true godliness, what be the effects and properties of it; no man needs to mistake, that will, and can read the Scriptures, without either prejudice, or partiality. S. James is plain enough in that very place: but S. Paul more copious and emphatical, upon the same subject, 1 Cor. 13. and elsewhere. So much here of this ardour, or heat, as the cause of Rhetorical enthusiasm. But being a general cause, we shall have occasion to speak of it again, which makes us here shorter upon it.  
iv Now for the causes of those wonderful effects of rhetoric, (our fourth and last particular,) such as can be given, that are merely natural; before we enter into that enquiry, we must lay down by way of foundation, or necessary supposition, that that which so much affected the generality, or greater part of Auditors, when those Orators and Sophists shown themselves publicly, was not the matter itself, that was treated of, or rerum ipsarum pulchritudo, as we had it before out of Seneca: but somewhat else, whatsoever it was. I said the generality, or greater part, in that state of corruption, as hath been in all places, ever since Adam's fall. For otherwise, why 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, sound reason, well delivered, should be powerful with all, or most men, no further reason need to be given, (as at the beginning of this Chaper was observed,) then this, That man is a creature naturally rational. But it is very absurd, in my judgement, that is, much against reason, to believe that such a one as Nero, living as he did, and doing what he did; after he had killed his own Mother, in omnes libidines effusus, saith Tacitus of him; (I forbear more particulars, because his name is sufficiently known:) should relish any sober discourse, as either of Justice, Temperance, or Clemency, or the like, for the matter itself: who nevertheless in the heat and height of all his Cruelties, and villainies, sapientiae doctoribus tempus impartiebat post epulas, as the same Tacitus doth record; that is, was wont after meals, to spend some of his time, to hear the exhortations of Philosophers. Or that such a one as Dionysius the Tyrant, as of him by Plutarch in the life of Timoleon, (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) is recorded, should do the same. Or in case it should be supposed of Nero, and such as he, that he had some politic end in it; (which nevertheless of either of these two, all circumstances well weighed, I think more plausible, then true:) yet, that either the great ones of Rome, rich Citizens, who had the estates of Princes, and their Ladies, in the corruptest time of that Commonweal, should be so studious to get to themselves some domestic Philosopher, one or more, that had fluent tongues, and hear their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or Discourses, so willingly, which were almost nothing else but of virtue, and the commendations of a sober life: or that the meanest of Rome, poor shopkeepers, and Tradesmen, that lived by their daily labour, should leave their Shops and their work, by which they hardly subsisted, and flock together by multitudes to a Sophists, or Philosophers auditory, to hear the praises of Hector, or of Hercules, or the commendation of some particular virtue, or of some brute beast perchance, or of rhetoric itself, or of Philosophy, or the like: if there were not somewhat else that did draw them, besides the matter itself, I think it were much against reason to believe it. Which nevertheless by the attestation of truest histories, and other ancient Authors of those times, we know to be so certainly true, as no rational man, that hath been acquainted with them, can make any question of it. Seneca the Philosopher, he alone would afford us store of passages to that purpose: but I shall content myself with one, because we shall meet with divers from other Authors, as we go on, which may give further light and satisfaction, if need be. Quid ergo, saith he, in one of his epistles; (having before insisted upon this, that much benefit, in point of life, might accrue unto men, by their daily conversation in the Schools of Philosophers;) non novimus quosdam, etc. But what? Do not we know some, that for many years together, have been very diligent Auditors, without any the least tincture; or, as it were, so much as alteration of colour? Yes, I know there be; not diligent only, but even assiduous and indefatigable: whom we may call rather domestics, for their assiduity, than Auditors. [But than you must know, that all come not for one end.] Some come, that they may hear, not learn; as men are drawn unto public Theatres, to please their ears, whether with good language, or sweet voices and melody, or to see plays. And of this rank be the greater number, to whom a philosopher's school is as it were a place of entertainment, for their pastime, and leisure hours. It is no part of their thoughts or aim to grow better there, or to learn some good rule, or precept of life, to which they may conform themselves for the time to come: but only & barely this, to meet with somewhat that may please their ears. Yea and some come with Table-books too, not so much for the matters sake, as for the words, that they may repeat them unto others, with as little profit, as themselves did hear them. So far Seneca: & then proceeds to another kind, who are marvellously affected (at least, as Seneca would have it,) with the very matter and excellency of the things spoken and delivered: and for the present, are even ravished, and become quite new creatures, as it were, in their purposes and intentions; but are no sooner out of the School, than they are out of their fit, & still come home the same men as they went. For which he doth give some reasons; both how they come to be so affected, and how so soon changed. But these be not the men that we have here to do with. 
Epist. lib. 1. epist. 22.  Plinius secundus, where he sets out a friend of his, for many excellent parts; In summa, saith he, non facile quis quemquam ex istis, qui sapientiae studium prae se ferunt, etc. that is, In conclusion, even amongst those that openly profess wisdom, (that is, chastity, piety, justice, magnanimity, etc. as himself afterwards expresses himself:) by their habits, take whom you will, you will hardly match him. It is true, that he doth not frequent public schools and cloisters, (porticus) and there with long discourses (disputationibus; and so is the word often used by Latin Authors of best note:) entertain himself and others that have nothing else to do: (or, are disposed to be idle:) No, etc. These two passages give light the one to the other: and I make choice of these Authors, who, both, were grave sober men, of great authority, and virtuous in their conversation; that by their testimony may the better appear, what use ordinary men made of their hearing in those days, when hearing was in such high request, amongst all sorts of people: and not only what use, (which may sometimes prove contrary to the proposed end;) but what end they proposed unto themselves, which was merely the pleasure of their ears. Ancient books are full of such complaints & observations: I shall therefore be the more sparing.  
Two things I have to show: what pleasure the ear, first, and then the eyes, find in words and language. Both, I know, contrary enough to the common profession; it may be, and belief, of most men: who not used to search into the nature of things, are carried in most things, more by appearance and conceit, then by any reality of judgement. Who is it that thinks so meanly of himself, but if he pleased with a sober moral discourse, be it more or less rhetorical; will not rather ascribe it to his reason and judgement, but especially goodness, then to his senses? But our business is not to inquire what most men think; but what most true and real: and we shall go on the more boldly, because besides manifest reason, we shall not want good authority for what we are to say. Two things then there be, which I am now principally to consider of: music, and Picture: the one, (to say somewhat of them more generally, before we come to particular observation;) the proper object and pleasure of the ear, the other, of the Eyes; and so, opposed to purely rational, and intellectual: yet so sensual, as that both presuppose reason and understanding, without which they are not pleasures. Brute beasts take no pleasure in music, except it be some great chance, (as in the case of Dolphins, and the like,) and upon some particular consideration: much less in Pictures, and curious imagery. And again, as we say commonly that the eye seethe, & the ear heareth, (of which in the former chapter:) so we say, that the eye is delighted, and the ear pleased; though in very truth, neither eye, nor ear properly know what belongs unto pleasure, but the soul only. The consideration of this hath bred many doubts, and curious speculations amongst Philosophers: and learned Fracastorius, (himself professeth it,) is much put to it, to find out what it is that makes good music and harmony to please. Nothing easier to be understood, till a man think of it rationally: nothing that affords more doubts and scruples, if you come to treat of it philosophically.  
We shall begin with music, and show how it is appliable, or incidental unto speech; and that by authority first, before we come to reason. And though we meddle not here with any thing that is properly called a Scripture business; yet why may not we make use of the Scriptures, from which some would have us to fetch all good Arts and Sciences, as well as all sound Divinity. I am not of their opinion, I confess, nor any sober man, I hope. yet that many things in all Arts and Sciences, by sober and well-grounded men in humane literature, may be learned; and some deep questions of philosophy resolved by the Scriptures, though given us for a greater good, and a more sublime use; I myself make no question. I shall therefore here set down the words of the Prophet Ezekiel, observable unto many uses, but not intending to press their Authority, as Sacred, as to this particular use and purpose, further than any man shall think fit in his own reason and judgement. I called them the words of Ezekiel: but indeed, they are the immediate words of God himself, by the Prophet Ezekiel: Also thou, son of man, etc. And they come unto thee, as the people cometh, etc. And so thou art unto them as a very lovely song, of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear thy words, but they do them not. Ezek. 33.31, 32, and 33 verses. I question nothing in the translation of the words, but that in the first verse, where it is here, the children of thy people still are talking against thee: not only Junius, but other Interpreters of best account, translate, of thee, not against thee; by way of commendation, not of crimination: vicatim & ostiatim, etc. that is, at every door and in every street, every where, commending thee: as Junius there in his Notes. This similitude of the power of Speech, to please the ear with music, whether vocal or instrumental is very frequent in ancient Authors, upon divers occasions. It is in Plato, Cicero, Seneca, Dio Chrys. and divers others: and much to the same purpose, as here in Ezekiel, in some of them; as in Musonius the Greek Philosopher. whose words, 
A. Gellius Noct. Attic. l. 5. c. 1.  as translated by Aulius Gellius, were; Cum philosophus hortatur, monet, suadet, objurgat, etc. that is, When a Philosopher doth exhort, admonish, advise, reprove, or any thing in that kind, tending to reformation or instruction; if they that hear him, out of their open and superficial breasts, bring forth obvious and vulgar praises; nay if they break out into loud acclamations; if with his choice language, sweet cadency and collocation of words, and his warbling voice, [frequentamentis; of which learned Budeus, and others:] they be affected, inflamed, and even transported: then may we certainly know, that both speaker and hearer have lost their labour, and that he was not heard as a Philosopher; but as a skilful Harper, [or, player on the Lute.] Musonius goes on in his discourse, how a true hearer, that hath a right aim, should be affected. I wish there were no worse Doctrine ever heard out of our Pulpits: but it is out of our purpose here, and therefore I leave him there.  
But from these bare similitudes, we can infer no great matter to our present aim and business; because there may be a likeness of effects, upon which a comparison may be grounded; though not affinity of nature, or perchance a direct contrariety, (as for example, extreme cold and extreme heat sometimes produce the same effects:) in the causes. To proceed therefore to some more direct proofs. Amongst other secrets, and mysteries of the art of good speaking, one is, that which is commonly called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, the placing or collocation of words in a sentence, or period. There is not any part of rhetoric more subject to scorn and contempt, and not without cause. For what (apparently) can be more contrary, either to solidity of reason, or sharpness of wit, or vigour of spirit; then for a man to busy himself about the placing and ordering of words, and syllables, when, in a serious matter, either to write, or to speak? And in very deed, as the matter is commonly handled both by ignorant practitioners, and by unskilful masters of that Art, it proveth but a ridiculous business: far more likely to bring all rhetoric out of request, then to gain that credit to that one part, at the hands of any truly sober and wise, to which some Ancients of best account have endeavoured to raise it, to be accounted the choicest and most useful part of all rhetoric. Not without great cause therefore some Ancients, that have written of it, with equal both diligence, and dexterity, make this profession about it; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: and that, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that as these things must needs sound unto many, as mere mysteries, or incredible paradoxes; so, neither are they for the knowledge of many: and that it cannot be expected otherwise, but that they that have no experience in such things, should judge otherwise of them, then as ridiculous trifles. But however men may judge, before they understand, because they will not take pains, as most; or because they have taken pains, and cannot understand, because non omnia possumus omnes, and that, non ex quovis ligno etc. as many: yet certain it is, that not only the most famous Artists and Orators, that ancient times have produced, as Demosthenes, Aeschines, Cicero, Dion. Halicarn. Quintilian, Longinus and the like, have ascribed unto it as much as unto any other power or faculty, which belongeth unto rhetoric, and accordingly treated of it (some of them) with all exactness and diligence; but also divers Philosophers, as Aristotle, Theophrastus and others, have taken it into their consideration, and said enough of it, they that say least of it, (as Aristotle) to make it considerable unto all, unto whom his judgement is considerable. Cicero in his eldest days, and in that book of his, which he confesseth to contain the pith and marrow of all his former labours in that kind, grounded upon so many years continual experience, treateth of it very largely. Longinus, not inferior to him in point of judgement and reputation, had written two large 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or volumes about it: which though not extant now; yet what reckoning he made of it, if that be not proof of it, that he wrote of it so largely, may appear by what he saith of it, in that Treatise of his, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, yet extant; in few words, as to any direction or instruction; but so full in point of commendation, as may seem rather exuberant, then otherwise. He compares it to divers kinds of music, as others before, but disputes it in point of reason and nature, that words well ordered, well chosen, and otherwise qualified, as they ought in a speech, must of necessity, and that by reason of their good ordering especially, be more powerful, either to ravish or to amaze, than any music can be. Quintilian saith not much less of it. I omit divers others, whom I could name. But of all men, whether Romans or Grecians, now extant, none hath taken more pains, either to set out the worth of it, or to search the secrets, and to make them plain unto others, than Dionysius Halicarnasseus hath done. There is a good large Treatise of his extant, among his other Works, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the second Tome, but there in Greek only; since that, set out both in Greek and Latin, by a learned man, one Simon Bircovius, who also hath illustrated it with very useful Annotations; all printed Samosci (in Polonia) anno dom. 1604. He gives him, and this his Treatise, high commendations in his Preface, and is very angry with the Rhetoricians of later ages, for abusing the world with such frivolous impertinent trifles, as have passed amongst men for books of rhetoric; whenas such incomparable pieces (in his judgement, wherein I think he is not altogether out;) have been neglected. This Dionysius, in that Treatise, (as Demetrius Phalereus, and some others: but none so copiously:) doth produce divers choice passages out of best Authors, both Poets, Orators and others: puts the words (still keeping the same sense,) in several forms; endeavouring thereby, as the most plain and convincing way to show to the eye, what the power is of this mystical, or artificial collocation. I do not expect that all men should be of his judgement, in every particular: but I think they may yield themselves to have no very judicious ear, in point of rhetoric and good language, that are not convicted by the generality both of his reasons and examples, that there is such an art indeed, and such a mystery, in point of Eloquence and rhetoric: which is as much as we need here. Neither would I have any to mistake, as though it were intended by any, that none have ever been eloquent or powerful in speech, that have not either studied, or understood these mysteries: 
Quintil. lib. 9 c. 4.  Quintilian may sufficiently satisfy for that. Certainly, whatsoever it be that is so called, it is as natural (though not so common,) as speech itself: and comes as naturally to some without any study, as other parts of eloquence, which are the common subject of all written rhetoric. Neither is it necessary, that men most powerful in language, should understand (philosophically) the nature of language, more than they that feel the effects, should be able to give a true account, what it is that worketh upon them so mightily: wherein, I believe, it is as ordinary for men to mistake, as it is not ordinary for them to enter into such doubts or speculations. Neither will it follow (to prevent another mistake,) that if right collocation of words be an Art, or a great secret of nature, which hath been reduced by some to some kind of precepts; that therefore there is no right or powerful collocation, but such as is according to those precepts: since it is granted, that naturally some Tunes are very sweet and musical unto some ears, which are not unto others; and though some music every where, yet not the same, in request amongst all nations. Wherein besides the consideration of the diversity of particular natures, and of different climates; use and education also (which in time becomes nature;) is very considerable. Nay it shall be granted too, that contrary faculties, as in divers other things, so in this art or craft also, may have sometimes the same operation; not only upon different men, but even the same: 
Cicero, in Bruto.  as Cicero observes in two famous Orators of his time, Catulus and Cotta. In the first whereof, Suavitas vocis & lenis appellatio literarum (that is, a smooth pronunciation,) bene loquendi famam confecerat, (that is, had gotten him the reputation of an eloquent man.) Cotta, quia valde se dilatandis literis à similitudine Graecae locutionis abstraxerat, sonabatque contrarium Catulo, subagreste quiddam planeque subrusticum, alia quidem quasi inculta & sylvestri via, ad eandem laudem pervenerat; that is, in few words, that this Cotta, quite contrary to Catulus, got himself the same reputation by a kind of broad, neglected, rustic pronunciation. But this doth not belong to the collocation of words, of which we have spoken. It doth not, I confess; but to the music of words (our chief subject and aim at this time,) it doth. For he plainly adscribeth the eloquence of both (that part of it at lest which made it popular,) to their pronunciation; as broad in the one, as it was smooth in the other; and yet both equally sweet. We need not make a miracle of it: we shall sooner show a reason for this, how it may very well be naturally; then we can give a reason, or understand the nature (as already observed) of music in general. But I may not stand so curiously upon the examination of all particulars: which as it would not be for the content of all readers; so neither am I provided at this time with all necessaries for such a task. However, I cannot but take some notice of those Philosophers mentioned by Plurarch, in the first of his Problems, and the first chapter; who contrary to what we have said, maintained, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, That neither the pleasure of curious sights, nor of pleasant sounds, (or voices,) doth properly belong unto the senses, but unto the mind or understanding. I will not meddle with his instances, upon which he chief grounds; some of which, though he doth not name him, he had out of Aristotle. As for this particular of eloquent language, enough hath been said already, to prevent that cavil or mistake, as though it were intended by any, that bare words or bare collocation, without any respect to the sense or signification, did affect any, be they never so sensual. For so, if generally true I mean, (for I believe that even so it is not without some truth,) then a man, though he understood not a word of Greek or Latin, would equally be affected, if he heard them read, acted or repeated: which for any man to imagine, is too ridiculous. And then again, if it be remembered, that when we say the pleasure of the eyes, or ears, we mean such as through the eyes or ears doth pass unto the soul: we may grant it the pleasure of a rational soul, properly, which only is capable of it; and yet as properly sensual, as it receiveth its first birth, and breeding as it were, from those senses.  
Though I do not propose to myself (as I have already said,) to go further into the search of these things, than I must needs, to avoid too much exactness, for which all men I know are not fitted: yet for their sakes that are more curious and capable, I will add here some further directions, as they offer themselves to me by the way, how they may come to the perfect knowledge of Words and Speech, and so may give their reason (if they please) more full satisfaction, concerning these effects which we speak of, when they understand their causes. They must begin first of all with the consideration of single Letters, and inquire, not from Grammarians only, but from best and choicest Philosophers, what is their natural power and property; which letters are naturally smooth; which are rough, or sharp; what Vowels grave and stately, what quick and nimble; what effects and operations to the conjunction of such with reference either to the ear, and the nature of it, or to the instruments, the Teeth, Tongue, Nose, Throat, etc. by which they are form, and to their motions in forming, are natural. Aristotle hath done somewhat in this speculation here and there, in his rhetorics: but Plato in his Cratylus, much more; more copiously and more profoundly, tracing nature to her very cradle, as it were, than any that I have seen. Many have laboured in it; all almost that have written of rhetoric, either ancient or late: but among the Ancients now extant, Dionys. Halicarn. with more exactness than any other of that profession. There is no part of Nature more obscure, where there is so little suspicion of obscurity: no wonder therefore, if they that have laboured in this search, are not always of one judgement. It is enough, that by clear demonstration of unquestionable precedents and instances, (except a man be valde agresti & hispida aure, as Aulus Gellius in a place; or somewhat else, that is not ordinary, doth alter the case:) out of Homer especially, who of all men that have been known unto the world, whether by art, as some have thought, or by nature, and by the advantage of a judicious ear, and plentiful wit, as most likely, made use in his writings of this craft; but by clear demonstration of unquestionable precedents, whether out of Homer, or any other, most certain, that all letters, both Consonants and Vowels, have some natural and distinct propriety in speech, if thus and thus used, towards such and such effects and operations.  
Next unto Letters, if we consider Words, there is no word that consists of Syllables, but is measurable; it hath some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or dimension: and there is no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or dimension, but hath some natural property, or influence (especially when many together artificially joined,) upon the soul of man, towards such and such operations. I may be thought to speak Riddles by some: and I know very well, that not only they that never read of such things, may think so; but even some that have taken great pains and read much, to satisfy themselves, have found this speculation more intricate and curious, then useful and necessary. This very word Rhythmus in matter of speech, what it is, how it differs from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; the one numerus properly, the other (though I made bold to confound them for want of a proper English word;) dimensio; what is the nature, and what are the properties of each; though so many have written of it, would be nevertheless a long and difficult business to make it plain. Without some skill in music, if not practical, yet speculative, I think it is not to be done. But it is enough for my purpose, by such hints as these to let the Reader know, that as in all Poetry there is somewhat of music; so in ordinary language too, (though not so apparent,) let it be never so ordinary; much more in that which is elegant, and (whether by art, or by nature only: for so in this subject we must be allowed to speak:) artificial.  
Then for the Organs of Speech, what analogy they have with divers instruments of music, there is much to be said, if a man go about it, rationally and philosophically. Gregory Nyssen, for so much as he hath done, not of set purpose, but occasionally only, both in his book De Opificio, and Contra Eunomium, hath done it very well. We have his words at large, in a more proper place and task, but not ended, nor very likely to be. They that have Casserius De vocis & auditus organis, may find somewhat there about it, if I be not mistaken: but whether out of Nyssen any thing, who well deserveth a place in that argument, I know not. And whereas I said but now, that the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, was a hard word to be explained, I meant it of the natural speculation of the thing signified by the word; not of the Grammatical exposition of it: in which sense nevertheless, it seemeth that it hath proved a hard and difficult word to some. Nyssen useth it in this rhetorical sense, in his first 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (that is, book; not as some translate it, Oration:) contra Eunomium: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. where the Jesuit that translateth him, because he understood it not, hath perverted the whole passage, and hath not one word of the father's meaning. I believe they that read Greek Authors, will find this word elsewhere too misinterpreted, and therefore I thought this caution would not be unseasonable.  
Now for the pleasure of the Eyes in good language, our next consideration, though it may seem more remote (at first hearing,) from probability; yet that we have to say will be much plainer, and, as I apprehend it, with no less reality of truth. I will not insist upon Plato's reasoning in his Cratylus, that words rightly imposed, are and must be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, artificial and picture-like imitations: nor upon Aristotle his comparing of speeches made to a multitude, unto Landscaps, which show best afar off; and being looked upon near, are little regarded. Though both have good reason for what they say; yet as not before, so neither here, do we hold bare similitudes a sufficient ground for us. Many such we may find in divers Authors, used by them, to set out the excellent beauty and amiableness of an eloquent piece. But for the reality of the thing, which is our business; The first thing I shall take into consideration is, the use of those Figures of Speech, by which Speech is adorned as much as by any other kind of ornament, which we call Metaphors, and Similitudes, and Allogories. Of their use and excellency in point of Eloquence if well used, of the right use of them, no man need to read any other then Aristotle, who as in all other points of humane learning, so in this particular, hath behaved himself, not as an excellent Orator only, but as a Philosopher, that is, as one that had the perfect knowledge of Nature; without which knowledge, nothing else, though it seemeth never so remote, can rightly be understood. Now what it is that maketh such Figures & Ornaments of Speech so pleasant, and so taking; I shall answer in the words of one, who could both judge and speak very well himself; but it is the sense of all that have written of that argument: Quod omnis translatio, quae quidem ratione sumpta est, ad sensus ipsos admovetur, 
Cic. 3. De Orat▪  maxim oculorum, qui est sensus acerrimus: that is, Because every Metaphor, (and so of the rest,) that is proper and natural, exposeth the things that are spoken of to the senses; especially to that of the eyes, which of all senses is the quickest sense. Which makes me wonder that S. Augustine in his book De Doctrina Christiana, should make it such a difficult business to be resolved; why the same thing delivered in plain and perspicuous language, should not be so pleasing, as when it is set out with Metaphors and Allegories: whereof he gives some examples there; difficile est dicere, saith he, & alia est quaestio. But I know that S. Augustine was so good a Naturalist, and an Orator too, (which he once professed;) that he could easily have found the reason of it himself, though none had found it before him: but difficile est dicere, in reference to his reason he might say: such speculations of nature are not for every capacity; nor that perchance so seasonable a place, (in his judgement) for such a speculation. But this very reason that makes them so pleasing in ordinary language, hath brought Metaphors out of credit with Philosophers that seek not the pleasures of the senses, but the naked truth of things. Aristotle, in his topics, condemneth them: Plutarch saith they are children, 
Plutarch. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc.  for the most part, or sensually given, that are so taken with such Figures of rhetoric. I would produce his words, but that there is somewhat to be amended in them, (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as in all editions I have seen; a vast difference:) which I have done elsewhere in another work, which may one day see light perchance, and therefore will spare that labour here. Seneca allows them to Philosophers, 
Seneca, Epist. 59  not as commendable of themselves, nor as Poets use them, for a show, and to delight; sed ut imbecillitatis nostrae adminicula sint: & ut discentem & audientem in rem praesentem adducant. that is, because of humane infirmity, that by the help of such figures, the teacher may bring his hearers to the knowledge of those things, by a kind of present sight, which otherwise they cannot understand. S. chrysostom hath the same thing, and is very large upon it, upon the seventh Psalm: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Therefore, saith he, (speaking of Metaphors and Allegories▪) the Scripture doth use such gross (or course) expressions, that it may fit the coarseness (or dulness) of our understandings.  
But besides such Figures, as Metaphors, Allegories, and the like, there is a certain propriety of speech, which they commonly call, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, though there be that make a difference:) or lively representation: others, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that is, a fantasy or a representation of shapes and images. It is so called saith Longinus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, When by a kind of enthusiasm, and strong apprehension of the mind, you think you see what you speak of, and so set it out by words to those that hear you, that you make it in a manner visible. Of this property or faculty, common Rhetoricians treat largely, and bring divers examples out of best Authors. Many excellent places out of Homer and Virgil (the two Poets that have been the admiration of all Ages, which have afforded men of judgement,) compared together may be found in Macrobius his Saturnalia, and Julius Caes. Scaliger, in the fifth of his Poetices. I have read somewhere, that Phidias, an ancient famous Statuary, ascribed, especially, that so much renowned, and almost adored piece of his, Jupiter Olympius, to the reading of Homer. How fare the reading of excellent Poets or Orators, may conduce to painting or carving, I know not: it is out of my profession to judge. This I can speak of myself: that when I read any such passage, in any of those principal Poets or Orators, I do not only fancy to myself, that I see those things that they describe; but also find in myself (as I fancy) the very same content and pleasure, that I should, if my eyes beheld them in some whether coloured, or carved representation of some excellent Artist. As for example; when I read Laocoon his tragical end and story, set out by Virgilius in the second book of his Aeneids, I do not think I read it with much less admiration or pleasure, than they receive, that go a hundred or a thousand miles perchance, to behold that incomparable Laocoon now at Rome to be seen; which was an admiration to the beholders, even when Artists were at the highest of esteem and perfection, (as by Pliny, and others that writ of it may appear;) so many hundred of years above a thousand since: how much more now, to all that can judge, since that noble Art hath suffered so notable declination? Not with much less admiration, I say: saving that (which much derogates from admiration,) I have a Virgil always at command, and can turn to it when I please; the other I never saw, (but in paper picture, and even so, not without some admiration;) nor can hope ever to see for many reasons. But there is more in Virgil, then in that carved piece: the description of the two Serpents, (which I most admire;) their gliding pace and motions (or what should I call it?) upon the Seas, towards the place of execution. Now if any body shall think much of this, that a man should be made to see without eyes, and should by the benefit of his ears, really compass pleasures that properly belong unto the eyes; I would have him to remember what he hath read before, if he have read from the beginning, that a man may see inwardly, as well as outwardly: without eyes, though not without visible species, (whether material or spiritual, we will not dispute:) and that those pleasures we commonly ascribe to the eyes, or ears, are properly the pleasures of a rational soul.  
There was a way of painting, or rather imagery, very curious and costly, but very frequent among ancient Romans, who stood not upon any cost, either for pomp or pleasure; which was by inlaying variety of small stones, or small chips of several kinds of wood; of both kinds the beautifullest that could be gotten for such a purpose; in such order and coherence, that they might represent to the life several shapes of Flowers, or Birds, or any other thing that was a fit object for the pleasure of the eyes. I believe it is used to this day in some Churches: but then, very ordinary for Sielings and Pavements, in great Houses. Any man may imagine, what care must be taken in such work, to bring it to any perfection, in setting and ordering every little scrap or parcel in its right place: and how quickly the eye of any Spectator would find it out, if any thing were misplaced. It was called opus emblematicum, vermiculatum, musivum, asarotum, besides divers other names. Answerable for all the world (in point of ordering or placing,) to this artifice, was some kind of style, devised by the ancient Sophistae, and very exactly observed by some of them, for which they have been much admired. It is a very pleasing kind of language, it cannot be denied, to any that have either ears, or eyes, or souls sensible of any kind of harmony or symmetry; whether in point of Sounds, or of Structures: better (if exquisite indeed) to be read, then to be heard: because the current of speech doth not give leisure to either ears, or eyes, to take notice of the art or care, where not a word is, or a syllable, but hath, as it were, its natural order, to complete the harmony. Of this kind of speech, or style, rather in derision of it, then in commendation, were those verses in an ancient Poet, mentioned by Cicero: 
Quam lepide lexis, compostae, ut tesserulae omnes,  
Arte, pavimento, atque emblemate vermiculato.  Cic. in Oratore.  
I know it is the course of the world, and it is the occasion of much wrangling among men. Homine imperito nihil iniquius: Most judge of things, not out of any knowledge, or consideration of the things in themselves; but by their own temper and disposition, whether altogether natural, or partly contracted by long use and custom: without any regard to other men (who probably may as much differ from them in temper of soul, as they do in feature of body,) their different genius and inclination. If therefore any give less credit to these things, because they find not a disposition in themselves to be taken, or affected with such composition; nor any other perchance, that is extraordinary: that they may the better know how to value their own judgement, or experience in such speculations, I shall first propose to their consideration the words of Dion. Halicarnasseus, of whom we may very probably suppose, that he might have as much experience in the world, and as much insight in the tempers of men, as themselves. In the very beginning of his Treatise 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. or Collocation of words, he layeth down for a ground, or grounds upon it, as a common principle, That all that is considerable in good language, is either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, either Words, or Conceptions. As for Conceptions, he saith they require great maturity of judgement, especially in politic Speeches. but of Words his assertion is; that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, That every younger man, or youth his soul, by some kind of natural, or enthusiastic instinct, is ravished with the beauty of well-framed elocution. This may be thought by some, a bold speech: and by some, perchance, not so bold as absurd. But what will they say to Hadrianus the Cardinal, a man, besides his age, and dignity, of very profound learning, as appeareth by what he hath written of the fundamentals of Christian Religion? who in his book De sermone Latino, in a place where he treateth of the proper and elegant use of the Latin word alius, is not ashamed to profess of himself, that he valued such Observations more than (Vniones) choicest pearls and Jewels; and that he had received such contentment in his own soul, when ever he met with such in good Authors, as no words of his could express: and doth not stick to ascribe some kind of divinity or deity to those men, that were able to express themselves in that kind. Yet it is fare from me to believe, that solid learning doth consist in such things: but much less do I think, that the contempt of those things to which ourselves have no genius, though highly esteemed of by others, is an argument of much solid learning, as some would gladly persuade themselves and others; nor yet of much wit, or judgement.  
I have done with all those particulars that I proposed to my Reader, at the beginning of this Chapter: and yet I shall not end it here. There is somewhat else, which I find, by some referred to rhetorical enthusiasm, and doth indeed, in some particulars, very properly belong unto it. But we must take the liberty (for methods sake,) to consider of all that is reducible under one head, though not altogether of one nature, as to matter of rhetoric. Quintilian (as was before observed, 
Quintil. Institut. lib. 10. c. 7. ) was of opinion clearly, and his reasons for it are very considerable, that no man should take upon him the profession of an Orator, that is not able to speak as an Orator, upon any emergent occasion, without any premeditation. But the same Quintilian is as much against them, that do adventure upon extemporary speaking, as it were by enthusiasm; that is, without a good foundation laid, able to beget such a faculty: which he will not allow to be called speaking, but twattling, or prating, or any thing else, that doth not pretend unto Reason. Against this his opinion, he doth object, that there have been some sometimes, who without any such foundation or premeditation, have been known to speak very well; yea so well, that their crude extemporarinesse hath been thought by men able to judge, to surpass the care and premeditation of others. For which, those crude and rude Orators of the old time, when any such thing did happen unto them, were wont to say (he quotes tully's authority for it:) Deum tunc affuisse; that is, that God had assisted them. Quintilian doth not deny, but that such a thing may happen sometimes, that some may happen to speak as well, or better, extempore, without any such foundation as we have spoken, as others, upon premeditation, etc. and he gives a good reason for it, which he fetcheth not from the heavens, (to make a miracle of it,) but from nature: but still keeps to his conclusion, upon this ground, (though he doth not express himself so plainly:) that that which happeneth but sometimes, uncertainly, cannot be called a faculty; nor that man be reputed very rational or wise, that makes profession of that which he hath not at command; and hath so little ground to presume upon, that himself makes a miracle of it, when it doth happen, adscribing it unto God: so that nothing less than a miracle can save him from shame and confusion, except he have the good luck (which indeed might happen without a miracle: stultorum plena, etc.) to speak unto such, or before such, who are as ignorant, as himself is impudent. Of their opinion that adscribed all Eloquence, in general, to enthusiasm, I have considered before: but this is quite another thing; when not the faculty itself, but some extraordinary success, upon some distress of time, or sudden danger, is ascribed unto God; which makes me to consider here of it by itself.  
Now this will bring me upon a more general consideration of this Deus; this un-named God; more commonly styled, Aliquis Deus, or, Nescio quis Deus, by ancient Heathens: more general, I mean, then to belong to this particular chapter of Rhetorical enthusiasm; but not so general, as to carry me out of my general subject, which is enthusiasm. I will call it, for distinction sake, a temporary enthusiasm; when a man, whether in matter of speech, or answer, or any other occasion, being put to it, more or less, meets with some sudden help, or evasion; or hints of direction, for the time to come, to avoid dangers, or to compass deliverances: whether by inward suggestions, as it were, or by some outward signs and encouragements, or the like. In all which cases we shall find this formula of Aliquis Deus or, Nescio quis Deus, frequently enough used by ancient Heathens. Before I come to some instances, whether ancient or late, I must profess, that even among & to heathens, my belief is, that many things, in point of deliverances and otherwise, did happen by the immediate hand of God. I have ground enough to say so, from the 107 psalms: as we have showed at large, against some sottish and fanatical Expositions, upon that very Psalm. I believe there is no part of the world, where any creatures be, that can be called Gods creatures, from which Gods providence, not general only, but even particular, upon some extraordinary occasions, is excluded: But nevertheless, as better understood, so, much more to be seen, where God is worshipped as he ought to be. Fare be it therefore from me to doubt, much more to deny, but that some things in that kind among Christians may happen extraordinarily: though I am very confident, that as among Heathens, so among Christians, the matter is often mistaken, through gross ignorance or superstition. But that is not it which we are now upon, how imposture in that kind may be prevented: how to prevent offence by being mistaken, was my business here, and no other. And so we go on.  
First then, in matter of speech, ancient Heathens had their warrant from Homer, to whom, for the most part, as well Philosophers as others, ascribed little less than divine authority: who in his 3. Odysseie, maketh the goddess Minerva, precedent of Wit and counsel, to appear (though in the shape of a man well known unto him,) to Telemachus, and to advise him to repair unto Nestor, set out by Homer as a Prince of great renown for his wisdom and long experience: and upon Telemachus his reply and exception, that being yet so young and raw in the world, he should be ashamed to speak to so reverend a person; Minerva doth encourage him, with these words; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
I am not so good a Poet as to render him in verse: neither do I hope to live to see either him or Virgil so translated, that a man may truly say, translated. It is well, if the sense be fully and faithfully expressed. Their other 
* See more in the Chapter of poetical enthusiasm.  perfections, for which most admired anciently, imitated they may be perchance by some rare Wit, so fare as the language will bear; equalled they can never be, in any translation. But the effect of the words is this: That upon such an occasion, to inquire of his Father, who had been so long expected, etc. he should not be afraid to speak. That his own wit perchance, might serve him beyond his expectation: and what he wanted himself, he might hope that God (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of which word we have treated elsewhere very copiously;) would suggest unto him: for that it was not likely (by what might already be observed of his carriage in those years,) that he was either born, or brought up, even to that age, without a particular providence.  
Of these words of the Poet, superstitious Aristides treateth at large in his Oration against Plato. And Cicero, in his Epistles ad Atticum, applieth them very pertinently to his case: being then in great perplexity, how he should carry himself towards Julius Caesar, so that he might not wrong his conscience or credit; himself being a grave Senator, who had always stood for the common liberty; nor yet offend him by his liberty, who had invaded the Empire by his power, and was now coming towards him, having sent him word beforehand, that he should shortly come that way, and would visit him at his house, making great reckoning of him, (as he professed, and I verily believe he did;) because of his approved integrity; besides wisdom, moderation, and other good qualities. Cicero being then in that straight, writeth to his friend: 
Cic. Epist. ad Att. lib. 9  Ita subito occurrit, ut ne Trebatium quidem, etc. omnia nobis imparatis agenda: sed tamen 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. What event that meeting had, himself relates in another Epistle to the same Atticus, which may be seen there; because it is not to our purpose here. Just such another case as this, between Conscience on the one side, and present Danger of no less than Life itself, doth Plinius secundus relate of himself in his Epistles. It was upon a question, 
Plin. Epist. lib. 1.  that was put to him of purpose to catch him. It was a good while before he could tell what to say: which is some argument, that nothing else (though that too, in a more general consideration, reducible to providence;) but his own good wit and discretion freed him. Yet at last he lighted upon such an answer, as avoided both those precipices, and confounded his malicious enemies. Pliny according to his Religion, thanks his Gods for it: Non possum dicere aliud tunc mihi quam Deos affuisse. And I think it were want of Religion in any man, not to thank God in such a case: though it be liable to much inconvenience in point of Providence in general, to make a particular providence of all such cases, without any regard to persons, or circumstances. Plutarch in his Coriolanus, takes it into his consideration, 
Plut. in vita Coriol.  and doth endeavour, grounding upon Homer especially, to set down some rules, whereby, in such cases, we may discern between humane providence, and immediate divine suggestions. But if according to his rule, we shall ascribe all ungrounded, and seemingly rash attempts and resolutions, that produce unexpected successful events, to immediate inspiration: though it may be plausible enough in the case of good men, and good ends; yet generally received and applied, it will prove such a stumbling-block, that it is fare more likely to produce atheism, than any true sense of godliness. Besides daily experience of such cunning foxes, as Phormio is set out by the comedian, who have nothing to trust to in all the world, but their craftiness and their wit, and go further with that, to bring their ambitious ends about, and to get themselves credit and reputation in the world, than many honester men, with the advantage of a fare better Purse, and greater relations can do: what Age of the World, what People, or Nation, that hath been made known unto the world by any history, doth not afford store of examples of successful wickedness; not only to the amazement of weaker worldlings, (if I may so call them, that have yet seen but little of the world, or have not yet profited so much by what they have seen, as they ought have done;) but even beyond the actors and adventurers their own expectation? Which things, though we acknowledge upon such and such grounds and foundations, necessary to be laid by every man that undertakes that subject, easily to be reconcileable with providence: yet according to Plutarch's rule, must of necessity prove destructive unto it. Aristotle in his rhetorics hath an observation, that great men that have good luck, amongst many bad, have one good quality, that they are commonly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. They love God, he saith, (after a sort;) and seem to be religious: as supposing their good luck to be an effect of Providence, and by consequent, an argument of God's love and favour towards them. Whether it be so or no, that such, ordinarily, love God and Religion, after a sort; I will not here argue: but of many bad, I should think it the very worst of their qualities, (if Aristotle meant it of such, as became great by unlawful means; which I think he doth:) that they should love God and Religion upon such an account. For so to be religious, is to make God the author of wickedness, that ourselves may be thought good: and whilst we affect to be religious, after a sort, to undermine (to our power) all true Religion; a main fundamental whereof is, that God is not pleased with any wickedness, neither doth suffer it at any time to prevail, but as a means either of greater Judgement, to them that are past Correction; or of advantageous suffering, to them, to whom he intends greater Blessings. We might be much larger upon this arguments but it shall suffice to say here, that in such a case, as either Cicero's or pliny's, who were men of singular natural parts, and through long experience much improved; though they did very well to be thankful, and all men should, though upon less occasions: yet there is no need at all, that we should go further than humane wit and wisdom, for a reason of their wise & successful answers. Surely, wisdom had not been so much commended unto us by all sorts of Authors; nor so much pains taken by our Forefathers, for attainment of it; nor men that have been thought wise, so much admired; had it not been a thing of very good use in the world. It is the privilege of God, that he can infatuate and confound the highest wisdom of man, when he pleaseth: but if God doth not interpose, we need go no further than our first creation, if strange things sometimes be brought to pass by the wisdom of man, (though much impaired, we know, by his Fall,) who was created after the Image of God. And if wicked men bring strange things to pass too, in that kind; it may be a question, whether a wicked man may be a wise man, properly so called: (Aristotle saith not; and there is good reason for it, if it be well understood:) but that one that is wicked, if wise, should have good success (in point of humane reason and judgement,) in the world, is neither to be doubted, nor wondered at: nay, reasons are given by good Authors, why unconscionable craftiness, oftentimes, in the prosecution of worldly businesses, hath had great advantages above wisest Integrity.  
It would trouble a man more, to find a reason for those many Cures, whereof so frequent mention is made in ancient Authors, supposed to have happened by particular Revelations in Dreams of the night. Their manner was, (they that wanted help, and had any confidence in those things,) after some preparations, to go to a Temple; there, some Rites and Ceremonies performed, to lie and expect some Revelation. Pellibus incubuit stratis, somnosque petivit, etc. Virgil, and they that have written upon him, will inform them concerning many particulars, that have not taken notice of it elsewhere. Aristides the Orator relates strange things of himself, which I neither know how to believe, as whom I find every where so blindly superstitious; nor how to disprove, writing with so much confidence, and appealing to the testimony of so many others, as he doth. Insomuch, that grounding upon this pretended common Experience; both of Medicine itself, as an Art, (by others accounted of all others the most necessary;) and of them that professed it, he speaketh in a place as of things, in his judgement, not very needful in the world. But a Greater man, and a Wiser man, and which is above all, 
M. Aurel. Anton. Meditat. lib. 1.5. & 9  a fare better man than Aristides, Antoninus the Roman Emperor; so wise, as not easy to be cheated by any others; and so good, (I think I have said enough of him elsewhere, to make good all I say here:) that I am persuaded he would as soon have parted with his Empire, as to have been the author of any Cheat towards others: he also in his divine Meditations, mentioneth those Cures by Dreams and Revelations; not only as approved unto himself, by his own, but unto others also, by frequent experience. It is not improbable, that conceit might do much in this business of Cures. It is granted by Physicians, that bare Conceit sometimes, as it may cause Diseases, so real Cures also. But to ascribe all to Conceit, that happened in that kind, I cannot. I will further grant, as very probable, that among some such real Cures, whether by Conceit or otherwise, many more, through juggling and devised impostures, were talked of, than were true and real. But then supposing withal, that some happened very really; of such as Antoninus, I should make no great question, but the same God, who sent to Naaman the Syrian an Hebrew Maid, to tell of the Prophet in Israel, that would cure him, might send them Dreams, (in their Houses, not in their Temples,) that might help them. As for others, that received real help in the Temples of Idols, and with the solemnity of such and such rites; I am most inclinable to believe, that such Cures were done by Evil Spirits, the further to engage men in that Idolatrous kind of Worship. And not only in the veneration of Heathenish Gods in general, but in the veneration of those Temples also, where they were worshipped, and of those 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or sacred (as supposed) obdormitions of men and women in Temples: by the means whereof, what horrid pranks were sometimes brought to pass, we have a notable instance in Josephus; and of the execution, just and due, upon the actors and contrivers of it. 
Joseph. lib. 18.  As for other Dreams, upon other occasions, whereof the books and relations of Ancients are so full, imputed by them to Revelations; I see not any thing, in most of them, but may very well be ascribed unto mere Conceit and Superstition. It is the more to be wondered at, I confess, that not ordinary men only, as divers Poets, and some Orators, and Philosophers, should tell us of such: but that even learned Physicians▪ should ascribe so much unto such fancies. Hypocrates in his Epistles (if genuinus Hypocrates, which I can scarce believe;) hath a large relation of the God Aesculapius, how he appeared unto him about Democritus his business: Galen often, how that he had a Dream, to write such and such a book; to go, or to forbear such a journey. If men give their minds unto such things, there is no question but they shall fancy sometimes, nay often, much more than there is just ground for; & sometimes it may be, somewhat may happen extraordinarily: but men (I think) were better want it by fare, if it come by Superstition, and not by immediate Providence; as out of doubt, unto some sometimes, that are not superstitious.  
The ancient Heathens had their sorts Homericae: and even Christians, anciently, some, their Observations not much unlike unto them: Observations, I say, upon the first words that should offer themselves unto them, at the first opening of some part of the Bible; but of the Psalms especially. What S. Augustine his judgement is of such, what is the determination of some councils, hath been observed by them that have written of that subject: we shall but touch upon it here. It is a common story that Franciscus Junius, that translated the Old Testament (with Tremellius) out of the Hebrew, and lived to be a great Writer in these later times, was not a Christian hearty, until the first words of S. John's gospel were offered unto him by a strange providence, as he apprehended. I have read somewhat of Ignatius Loyola too, the founder of the Jesuits, not much unlike. Suspicius Severus, in the life of Martinus, that holy Bishop, hath some observations upon the Psalms, that were read in course when he was consecrated: He makes a particular providence of it, as I remember. A thousand such relations a man shall meet with in all kind of books, if he think them worth his observation. But as in Dreams, so in this, I make great difference, between those things that offer themselves without any seeking, and those which upon destinated seeking and curiosity. In the first kind, there is no question, but God, if he please, may use that way sometimes, as well as any other, to reveal some things extraordinarily. But for the other, as it is a mere tempting of God, and little differing (as is disputed at large by learned Peucerus, in his books De Divinatione:) from direct Witchcraft; so if any thing happen in that way, that is extraordinary, and may resent of some kind of revelation or prediction; I should much suspect the author, and be more afraid of the end, as rather tending to draw a man to further mischief, by degrees; then out of any good will, or for any present advantage, to be reaped thereby.  
I know one very well, (I mean it in a vulgar, not philosophical sense, which would be too much presumption:) who from his childhood having always been (though stayed and sober enough in his ordinary conversation,) somewhat boisterous and violent in his play, and ordinary recreation, for which he had suffered many times, and sometimes had been in danger of his life, and yet could not leave it in his elder years; at a certain time, when he was playing with a child of his, (which he loved very well,) it was his luck, to run his forehead against a plain pillar: but with such vehemency, that he was almost felled with the blow, and was stupid for a while. As the place began to swell, (the skin being broken in divers places, but without bleeding;) and to grow blue; whilst his forehead was a binding, somewhat having been applied unto it, as soon as it could be made ready; he was carried by a strange instinct, up many stairs, to his study, making them that were about him, much against their wills, to follow him, and not without some wonder. In his study (a long room,) at the farthest end, out of a case of shelves, that contained above 5 or 600 small books, he took down one, himself not knowing to what end; which happened to be Lactantius: and at the very first opening, cast his eyes upon these words, (which he did not remember ever to have read in him before, nor any like in any other Author:) Summa ergo prudentia est, pedetentim incedere. 
Lact. De Opif. D. c. 1. ed. Crisp. in 16. p. 672.  He read no further: and it made so much impression in him, (when he remembered what he had partly escaped, and partly suffered,) that he could think of little else all the day: and he did think (especially when he had heard what had happened unto a very good friend of his,) that he had fared the better afterwards, for that warning; and perchance escaped somewhat, that might have been his death, not long after.  
I make no question but many such things do happen unto many, both good and bad: but either not observed, (and better not observed, then turned into superstition:) or soon forgotten. Wherein there may be some danger of unthankfulness, I confess, as well as Superstition in the excess: that is; when either we think too much of such things, before they happen of themselves; or too well of ourselves, when they have happened.   

CHAP. v Of poetical enthusiasm.  
The Contents.  
Poetical and Rhetorical enthusiasm, how near in nature; though the faculties themselves, (oratory and poetry,) seldom concurring in one man. The perfection both of Poets and Orators to proceed from one cause, enthusiasm. The division of Poets, according to Jul. Caes. Scaliger. Poets by nature, and by inspiration. Plato his Dialogue concerning that subject. Not only Poets, but their actors also, etc. according to Plato's doctrine, divinely inspired. Plato not to be excused in that Dialogue; though more sound in some others. Much less Scaliger, a Christian, for his expressions in this subject, if not opinions, as some have apprehended him. Homer (the occasion of Plato's Dialogue,) how much admired by the Ancients: by Aristotle, particularly. His language: his matter: and why not so much admired, and so ravishing in our days, as he hath been formerly. Some use to be made of him, for confirmation of the antiquity of the Scriptures of the Old T. No Poets (true Poets) made by Wine; disputed and maintained against Scaliger: though it be granted, that Wine may contribute much towards the making of a good Poem; and why. So, some other things, proper to stir up (in some tempers) the spirits, or the fancy, to enthusiasm; as music, etc.  
OF Poetical enthusiasm, (the subject of this Chapter) there is so little to be said particularly, besides what hath been of rhetorical; that I needed not to have made a distinct head of it, but that it hath been a common maxim in most Ages, approved by sundry pregnant instances, That a good Orator and a good Poet, are things, if not altogether incompatible, yet seldom or never meeting in one: how then should they be led and agitated by one spirit, or enthusiasm? Yet certain it is, and it is the opinion of best Orators, and Masters of rhetoric, Cicero, Dionysius Halicarnasseus, and others, that Oratory and Poetry, though so seldom concurring in the Professors of each, are very little different in their causes and nature. It might prove a long business, if I should take upon me to examine all reasons, and all instances, on both sides, for, or against this common maxim. For the difference of their style and language, Aristotle may satisfy any man, in his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Books of rhetoric: though even in that difference so much affinity perchance might be found, as might argue rather different ways, or effects of the same faculty, then different Faculties: but that it is not our task here to examine particulars. However, there is no question, but in divers respects, their parts may be as different as their style: and where the end in general, (the one to please, the other to persuade,) is not the same; how should particular endeavours, which produce abilities, be? And yet after all this, though we allow some difference in their parts and proprieties, such as are more common and ordinary, which may make the difference between ordinary Poets and Orators the greater: my opinion is, that scarce ever was (so I speak, because some accidental circumstance may alter the case in some particulars:) that scarce ever was any excellent Poet, but might have been (which in Virgil's case we know to be most true:) as excellent an Orator; or excellent Orator, but might have attained to equal excellency in Poetry; had they applied themselves to the means in time, and external provocations and encouragements equally concurred for the one, as for the other. But how the same enthusiasm (originally and in its nature,) may both cause of very different effects and faculties; we shall have a more proper place to consider and examine.  
Julius Caesar Scaliger, whose authority is such with most men, that whatsoever he saith, passeth for current with them without any further consideration; in that work of his, where he treats of all things belonging unto poetry, and of all Poets, whether ancient or late, that he thought worthy the mention; in the first book of it, and second chapter, reduceth all Poets into three several divisions, as it were: from their Spirit, their Age (or time when they lived,) and their Argument. For their Spirit; he delivers it at first as out of Plato and Aristotle, that some are born Poets; by Nature, without Art or Study, endowed with all parts and faculties necessary to that profession. Others, though born simple and ignorant, yea dull and stupid; to become Poets by immediate inspiration. As for matter of inspiration, it is Plato's doctrine, I confess, in more than one place; but disputed and maintained at large in a peculiar Dialogue, inscribed by him, Jon, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. where he doth not only dispute, that all true poetry is by immediate inspiration; immediate divine inspiration, in the most proper and literal sense; using all the words that the Greek tongue could afford, to express inspiration, and repeating them often: but that the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 also, that is, actors or representators of Poets, so reciting their words, that they imitated the nature of the things by their pronunciation, and action of body, (an art in those days in great request,) yea and the Auditors, all, or most, were inspired in some degree. which he doth endeavour to illustrate by the example of the loadstone, which infuseth virtue, first upon one ring, and from that upon another, and so to many iron rings: though still with some abatement; yet so nevertheless, that as long as there is any virtue to draw, it must be acknowledged to have proceeded from the same beginning. So that Plato, nay God himself, he saith, would not have us to doubt, but that it is (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. and again, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc.) God himself, (not they,) that speaketh unto us in, and by Poets. But that any are borne Poets, distinct from those that are inspired, I do not find in that Dialogue; nor remember any where else in Plato.  
As for Aristotle, I wish Scaliger had quoted the place. I know more than one place, where Aristotle likewise upon the by, doth affirm that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Poetry comes by inspiration; or rather, is not without inspiration: but where he doth so positively avouch it, as that a man may call it his doctrine, or a resolved case of his upon debate, I know not any place. Indeed I am not at this time (the more is my grief,) master of all Aristotle's Works: and thereby of necessity am eased of the labour of seeking it in him. But even of Plato, though we find it in that one Dialogue so positively maintained; yet whether we may call it absolutely Plato's Doctrine, I make some question, when I remember (as is observed by many) what he writes elsewhere of Poets, and of Homer particularly, whom he would not allow to be read in a well-governed Common-weal, (which I would not have any ignorant zealot take any advantage of, as though it concerned us Christians as much, or rather, at all: for they had no other Bible, than Homer, in those days, such was the common opinion of him; and the reading of him with such an opinion, must needs be very dangerous:) because of so many false, absurd, yea impious Fictions, concerning the Gods. However, I cannot excuse Plato for that Dialogue; a most irrational piece, I think, as ever was written by any Philosopher.  
But neither can I well brook Scaliger his words, (for I would not question his meaning; God forbidden:) which I take notice of, of purpose to prevent, that I say not to reprove, the mistake of some others. After he hath spoken of Plato and Aristotle their opinion, he seemeth to deliver his own in these words: Horum autem 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 duo adhuc genera animadverti: unum cui coelitus advenit divina illa vis; aut ultro, nec opinanti; aut simpliciter invocanti. Quo in numero seipsum ponit Hesiodus: Homerus autem ponitur ab omnibus. Alterum acuit meri exhalatio, etc. They do him great wrong certainly, 
Joan. Fabricii Specimen Latrîa. pag. 174. Statuis idem Scal. etc.  that make this to be his opinion. No man pretending to Christianity, can entertain such sottishness. However, so censorious a man (witness his bitter invectives against Erasmus, for less matters;) should have written more warily. That some became Poets by immediate inspiration, without any thought, or seeking; others, upon immediate request and prayer, without any further endeavours: what more can be said of the truest, and most holy Prophets? But if all this were intended by him (as most probable,) in reference to those Philosophers their opinion: Yet he should have used some of their terms rather, (whereof Plato afforded him so much choice;) then that Scripture word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: though not proper to the Scripture perchance, yet seldom used by any profane Author.  
As for Homer, (the chiefest subject of those extravagancies,) there is no commendation can be given unto man, as to point of nature, but I should be more ready to add to it, then to detract. Neither do I wonder, if Heathens, that had so many Gods, when they found themselves so transported above their ordinary temper by his verses, when either judiciously read, or skilfully acted; did really persuade themselves, that he must be somewhat above a man, that was the author of such ravishing language. I have always thought of Aristotle, in point of humane wisdom and sound reason, rather as of a Miracle, than a man: yet when I consider how much he was beholding to Homer, and how much he doth in all his writings ascribe to the wit and wisdom of that one Poet; I must needs think very highly of him, that was so much admired by such a one as Aristotle. And though I do easily grant that his language, of the two, is the more ravishing; as may easily appear by such translations as have been made of him in any language, wherein so little of that charming power is to be found, that the reading of them is rather a task of patience, than an object of any admiration: yet allowing him to be a Poet, that is, one whose chief end (and probably his best subsistence,) was to please; and a very ancient Poet, that is, one that was to fit himself and his expressions for such as then lived, when such a religion, such opinions, such fashions, were in use; these things taken into consideration, which I doubt many that read him little think of, his matter, in my judgement, for the most part, doth deserve no less admiration.  
Of the mysteries of bare language, that it may ravish, and what it is that makes it so, hath sufficiently been discoursed in the former chapter. And if Rhetorical, how much more (in all sense and reason) Poetical? And if good language may ravish, how much more excellent matter, delivered in ravishing language? But as every ear is not fitted for all ravishing language, when barely read, especially, not acted; so neither is every capacity, for excellent matter. Though in this particular of Homer's case, it is not so much want of wit and capacity, that maketh so few in these days to admire his wisdom; as ignorance of former times. Who would not at a Market, or Fair, if suddenly such a sight should offer itself, look upon either man or woman, though very beautiful otherwise, if dressed in old apparel, such as was worn but two or three ages ago; rather as a Monster, or a ghost, than such creatures as they would have appeared, when such apparel was in use? An old Hat will alter a man's countenance: and many both men and women, whose only ambition and employment in this world is, so to dress themselves, that they may be thought fair or proper, would think themselves undone (so ridiculous would they appear,) if they were seen in those fashions, which but ten or twenty years ago were their chiefest both pride and beauty? No wonder therefore if so ancient a Poet as Homer, appear ridiculous unto many, who are better skilled in the fashions of the times, than they are read in ancient books; which by long use of reading▪ would make the fashions of those times to which they are strangers, not only known, but comely; and so lead them to somewhat else, more observable than the fashions of the times. However, this use (to a learned and hearty Christian not inconsiderable,) any man may make of Homer and his antiquity, that by reading of him, many passages of the Old Testament relating to certain fashions and customs of those ancient times may the better be understood, and the antiquity of those books, among many other arguments, by the antiquity of such whether expressions (which we may call, the fashions of language,) or manners, both public and private, the better asserted. Somewhat hath been done, I know, by some learned men, to that purpose, by collation of some passages: but not the tenth part of what may be done, I dare say: not by any, at least, that I have yet seen. But now I am gone from my Text.  
So much for the first kind of inspired Poets, whom Scaliger doth call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Though he name Hesiod too, from Hesiods own testimony of himself; (quo in numero etc.) yet he passeth no judgement on him: Homer is his only instance; and Homer the occasion and only subject, almost, of that Dialogue in Plato, of this argument. I thought it therefore necessary that somewhat should be said of him: but that he should be thought inspired, truly and really, or otherwise supernaturally agitated, then as of Orators was determined; notwithstanding all that hath been, or might yet be said of his so much admired excellency, I see no necessity at all.  
The second kind, according to the same Scaliger, are those, quos acuit meri exhalatio, educens animae instrumenta, spiritus ipsos, à partibus corporis materialibus: that is, whom the vapours of wine, freeing the spirits of the body from all material entanglements, and bodily functionns, to serve the soul, do quicken and stir up. No wonder indeed, if such be styled 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, by those by whom Bacchus was worshipped for a God. But where Bacchus is not a God, but a fruit of the Vine, of the earth, and no more; how can they think it reasonable, to ascribe divinity unto Poets, for those effects, which not real inspiration only, as they seem to say, but even the vapours of wine, as themselves acknowledge, can produce? But let us consider of it soberly, and philosophically. It may be, we may find in this, though less danger of Blasphemy, yet as little reality of truth, as we have found in the former. Can the vapours of Wine make Poets? Truly I think not: I see no ground at all for it in nature. I have read what Aristotle doth write of Wine, where he compares the several effects of it with the effects of Melancholy. I think he hath said as much of it, as can be said by any man, with any probability of reason. Yet I find not any thing in him, to persuade me that any Poets are made by Wine. I easily believe that the vapours of wine may dispose a man to make somewhat, that may be called a verse, or a rhyme, or a strong line: but that every one that makes verses, or rhymes, or strong lines, is a Poet, I believe no more, then that an Ape is a man, because of some likeness in outward shape; or a Parrot, a man, because of some words of man's language, which he is taught to utter. To make a Poet, that may deserve that title, is, as I take it, a work both of Art and Nature; but more of Nature then of Art. A divine wit, naturally, is the first ingredient in that rare piece. and though I allow not any real inspiration to any Poet (as a Poet,) more than to an Orator: yet of all kinds of natural enthusiasm, I allow to Poets that which is the purest, and hath most of heaven in it. An Orator must not always ravish. If he affect it in every part, it is likely he doth it in no part: he is a Fool, or a Child; not an Orator. But if through exuberance of wit and good language, he happen, without affectation, to ravish every where; he is not an Orator, but a Poet. We admire Plato, as a Philosopher: but they that read him with the same judgement, as many Ancients did, will find that it is his Poetry, that he professeth not, that is admired; more than that Philosophy, that he professeth.  
But is Wine nothing then towards the making of a Poet? Not toward the making, as to the faculty itself: but toward the making of a Poem, I think it may conduce not a little. It may lighten the heart, as of sorrow, so of care, the bane of all sublime thoughts: it may raise the spirits, when they want to be stirred up; and those spirits may work upon the faculty, which oftentimes is more at the command of such helps, (by a secret sympathy,) than it is of the will, though never so much endeavour be used. They are seldom good Poets, that can be Poets when they will. But all that are good, are not of one temper of body: & as they vary in temper of body, so may these accidental external helps be more or less requisite. I do not think it impossible, though it be much against the authority of some, and practise, I believe, of most Poets, that one that drinketh water, (the ordinary drink of many nations,) should be a good Poet. But he had need to have good store of good blood, or a very strong fancy; which alone is able to raise spirits, and of all spirits, those especially, that have most power of the wit; that is, the purest, and most abstract from materiality.  
That Wine doth not work upon the wit, by any particular property or sympathy, but only by heating, or raising the spirits, I am the more apt to believe, because there be other things besides Wine, that have no less operation upon the wit and invention. (the fountains of all good language,) of which no such suspicion can be, that they can add or increase, but only stir up and quicken. There be strange things written of the effects of fevers, in that kind: few men, I think, that have been acquainted with fevers, or feverish fits, not very violent, but can speak somewhat of their own experience. But this will have a more proper place, where we shall consider of the causes of enthusiasm in general; and among other things, of that ardour particularly, as one of the chief: of which somewhat already hath been anticipated in the former chapter; which makes me the more willing to forbear any further prosecution of it here. I believe music, some kind of it, may have the same operation in some tempers, upon the wit and fancy, as Wine hath: not by heating, or infusing any spirits, that can have any such operation of themselves; but by stirring up by a secret sympathy. But of that also, more in its proper place.   

CHAP. vi Of Precatory enthusiasm.  
The Contents.  
The Title of the Chapter justified. Precatory enthusiasm, not supernatural only, (whether divine, or diabolical,) but natural also. Praying used not by Christians only, but by Heathens also: by Christians sometimes, miss-led by a wrong zeal; whether natural, or supernatural. Natural enthusiasm, in praying: 1. By a vehement intention of the mind. 2. By powerful language; apt to work upon the Speakers, as well as Hearers. Dithyrambical composition affected by Heathens in their prayers. Extemporary praying, no difficult thing. 3. By natural fervency; by the advantage whereof, some very wicked in their lives, heretics and others, have been noted to have excelled in that faculty. John Basilides Duke, or King of Moscovia: his Zeal at his Devotions: his Visions and Revelations; and incredible Cruelty. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits; strange things written of his zeal in praying: the same, in substance, written of the ancient Brachmannes of India: both, with equal probability. The Messaliani, or Prayers, anciently, so called: what their heresy or error was. Their earnest, intent, continued praying; raptures and enthusiasms; visions and revelations: how all these might happen naturally, without any supernatural cause. Haron, a Mahometan Prince, a great Euchite or Prayer, in his kind, not to be paralleled. ¶ A consideration concerning faith, whether besides that which is truly religious and divine, there be not some kind of natural faith or confidence, which by a secret, but settled general providence, in things of the world, is very powerful and effectual. A notable saying of Heraclitus the Philosopher: Some Scriptures, and S. chrysostom, to that purpose. An objection made, and answered. Ardour mentis, in S. Jerome, how to be understood. Best Christians liable to undiscreet Zeal. Nicol. Leonicus his Discourse, or Dialogue of the efficacy of Prayers. Antonius Benivenius, De abditis m. causis, etc. of what credit amongst Physicians. A strange relation out of him, of one incurably wounded, and almost desperate; who by ardent prayer was not only healed, but did also prophesy, both concerning himself, and divers other things. Some observations upon this relation.  
THis Title perchance of Precatory enthusiasm, may seem unto some inconsistent with what we have professed more than once, and our general title doth bear; that we meddle not in this Discourse, with any thing that is truly religious. It is possible it may seem so to some: but unto such, I doubt, as in matters of truth, are better acquainted with things that seem, then with things real. Such may be jealous, without cause: and yet may have cause enough too, perchance, to be jealous, if they would not have any thing meddled with, that themselves fancy to be Religion. Of all duties of Religion, I easily grant Prayer to be as the chiefest in necessity of performance, so the highest in point of access to God. If we may believe S. Basil, our prayer is not right, or we not right in our prayer, until the intention of our mind so fare carry us out of our bodies, that God (after a more than ordinary manner) possess our souls: and if we cannot so much as say, Abbae, Father, without the Spirit; how much less can we pour out our Souls or spirits unto God in prayer, but by the spirit of God? But yet for all this, Christ himself hath taught us, that Heathens were wont to pray too: not by the spirit of God certainly, when they prayed unto Idols; nor yet with a right faith, without any warrant from Scripture; though with a strong confidence, upon their own presumptions, that they should be heard, because of their long prayers: (Matth. 6.7.)  
But we may go farther, though this be enough to justify our title. Not Heathens only, but Christians also may err in their Prayers, unto the true God, (else not Christians;) but by a false spirit, an erroneous Zeal; as Christ's own disciples were once about to do: (Luke 9.54, 55.) As therefore there is a true, religious, supernatural enthusiasm, that belongeth unto Prayers; and a false, diabolical, supernatural, (directly opposite unto the former;) neither of which we desire to meddle with, more than of necessity, for distinction sake, and where the matter is doubtful, which in so abstruse a business cannot be avoided: so there is a natural, between both, and different from both these, the proper subject of this Chapter. I know there is no error in matter of Religion; no false Worship and Idolatry, I am sure, without some intervention of the Devil. But if our distinction which we have in the Chapter of Contemplative enthusiasm, between a general concurrence, and immediate inspiration or possession, be remembered; we shall be the better understood.  
The cause of natural enthusiasm in point of Prayer, may be referred either to a vehement and continued intention of the mind, or to the power of the language, or to the natural temper of the person.  
For the first; that vehement intention of the mind, is naturally apt to breed an ecstatical passion, that is, transport a man besides himself; to make him believe that he either heareth, or seethe things, which no man else can either hear or see; and upon this illusion of the imagination, to frame in his understanding strange opinions, and strange confidences; both by reason, and by Examples, in the chapter of Philosophical enthusiasm, hath been treated of, and fully discussed.  
Of the power of Language in general, we have treated in the chapter of Rhetorical enthusiasm. And that it hath the same power, to raise the same passions and affections upon the speakers, or bare utterers, as it hath upon the Auditors, as there is the same reason, so there be so many instances and testimonies out of ancient Authors, that no question of it can be made. All writers of rhetoric insist upon it largely, and conclude generally, that he can never be a perfect Orator, whose speech hath not the same, or greater power upon himself, as he would have it to have upon others. Ipsa enim natura orationis ejus quae suscipitur ad aliorum animos permovendos, oratorem ipsum magis etiam, quam quenquam corum qui audiunt, permovet. that is, Such is the nature of speech, that though it be intended and undertaken to move others; yet it worketh upon the speaker himself no less, (if not more) than it doth upon any that hear it: as a grand master of that Art, in point of speculation, and no less a practitioner, (both concurring to make him a perfect Orator,) delivers it. It was very good counsel that the same Cicero gave his brother, 
Cicer. 2. De Orat.  when Governor of Greece, a man naturally passionate; that when he was provoked to anger, he would forbear to speak, lest his words should be a farther incentive. Ancient heathens in their solemn prayers affected a dithyrambical composition, as we learn by those collections out of Proclus his Chrestomathia, made by Photius in his Bibliotheca: set out also by learned Sylburgius, at the end of Apollonius 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: the propriety of that composition, as is observed by the said Proclus, being to stir up enthusiastical passions. Even a man that is not very fluent or rhetorical, in his ordinary discourse, may by long practice attain to a great facility, in point of prayer: which though it be a subject of so much latitude, as will admit of good variety of rhetoric; yet is not so ample, but that a very ordinary man, with some labour, and a good measure of confidence, may attain to an extemporary faculty. He that believeth what hath been written in the former chapter, of the extemporary faculty of the ancient Sophistae and Orators, (which he that believeth not upon those evidences, may as well question whether ever any such men were truly, as Demosthenes and Cicero:) will make no great wonder of it.  
But that which giveth most advantage, as to all rhetoric in general, so to prayer particularly, is, that natural ardour or fervency, wherewith nature hath endowed some men above others. I said, endowed. Some may quarrel at the word. my meaning is, where it is poised with equal discretion, than it is a gift; not otherwise. What that ardour is, besides what hath been already said of it, (whereof see in the Chapter of Rhetorical enthusiasm:) shall be further enquired in its proper place. It comes often to be mentioned; which we cannot avoid, having so near relation unto all kinds (almost) of enthusiasm.  
The ignorance of this advantage of nature, being unhappily mistaken for true Christian Zeal, hath been the occasion of much mischief in the world, and a great stumbling-block to simple people, to draw them into the contagion of pernicious Heresies. Swenckfield, a notorious arch-Heretick in Germany, the father of many Sects; who among other extravagancies, held blasphemous opinions concerning the Scriptures: Abraham Scultetus, (a man of precious memory among all Protestants,) in his Annals Ecclesiasticae, recordeth of him, that he was wont ardentes ad Deum preces creberrime fundere. But of blasphemous Hacket, who was executed in Queen Elizabeth her days, it is observed by many, that he was so ardent in his devotions, that he would ravish all that heard him: whereof some also he infected with the venom of his opinions, with no other engine, but that very charm of his ardent praying. I have read it in more than one, if I be not mistaken. I must now content myself with a passage out of the writings of a learned man, who though dead many years ago, yet was the memory of his exemplary piety very fresh among many, when I lived at Canterbury; Hadrianus Saravia: whose words are; Fertur hic Hacketus in concipiendis extempore precibus adeo excelluisse, ut Det spiritu eum totum ardere, & ab eo ipsius regi linguam, isti duo crederent: & adeo in sui rapuit admirationem, ut nihil eum precibus non posse crederent à Deo obtinere; proinde quidvis ab eo posse perfici. that is: This Hacket is reported to have excelled so much in praying ex tempore, that those two (his disciples) did verily believe him altogether to have been inflamed, (or, wholly possessed) by the spirit of God, and that his tongue was governed by Him: and such admirers were they of him, that as they believed there was nothing but he might obtain by his prayers from God; so consequently nothing that he desired, but he might effect.  
But of all things that I have read in that kind, there is not any thing that would more scandalise a man not versed in natural speculations, than what is written of that horrid hellhound, that incarnate Devil, 
Nam quae de Nerone, Caligula, Domitiano, & reliquis pestibus humani generis scripta leguntur, ludum jocumque dixeris, prae insana hujus rabie. Paulus Oderbornius in vita: quatern. L. 2. Witebergae: an. Dom. 1585.  to whom Nero, Caligula & the fiercest Tyrants of ancient times compared, may be thought Saints, or merciful men; (it is not mine, but their expression that have written his life, or of him; and he lived but in Queen Elizabeth her days:) John Basilides, Duke, or King of Moscovia: of his carriage at his solemn devotions; how he prayed, how he fasted, how severe towards others, his soldiers and Courtiers, that did not, at those times, conform themselves to his example: I leave it to every man to read, 
Ibid. quatern. X 5. & N 6. b. In arce Alexandrovia, etc. & V 2. b. Sed tyrannum fera rabie, etc.  in those that have written his life. Who would not admire the providence of God, who hath left us so many warnings in the Scriptures, (in the Gospels, and the writings of the Apostles of Christ, especially;) that we should not be deluded by such outward appearances: and so many signs and evidences, how true piety might be discerned from false and counterfeit? so that no man that can but read and consider, can have any colour of excuse for his ignorance, if he be deceived. And whereas the same that have written the life of the said Basilides, tell us of his feigned Visions and Revelations, by which he deluded the people: that they were feigned and imaginary, mere delusions and impostures, as to that which they pretended unto, God and Heaven, we are sure enough, and should think them mad, that should make any question: but whether altogether feigned and imaginary, as to Basilides himself; that is, whether the Devil, after God for his incredible wickedness had once quite given him over, might not take the advantage of his enthusiastic devotions, to represent himself unto him in the shape of an Angel of light, to encourage him the better in those inhuman courses, the very relation whereof is so full of horror, as is able to amaze the most resolute, and to draw tears from them who delight in blood and cruelty; some question, I think, may be made.  
But we have other Euchites, or Prayers, to speak of, that will trouble us more than these, in the inquisition of the cause. But before I go from this ardour, the Reader will give me leave to acquaint him with what I have met with concerning Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits. He had need to have been a very fiery man, that hath been the founder of such Incendiaries, as they have proved (for the most part) in most Nations. But there be many that practise their tenets, yet rail at them: I know not how to call them. But to my story. I will not bind my Reader to believe it: but he may make very good use of it, if he believe it not; and therefore I am the more willing to acquaint him with it. In the life of the said Ignatius Loyola, written by a very eloquent man, (whether as faithful as eloquent, I know not:) Joannes Petrus Maffeius, we are told, that he was seen at his devotions (elevante spiritu sarcinam corporis, quatuor fere cubitis à terra sublimem: that is in English; four cubits almost above the earth; the weight of his bodily lump being elevated by the strength of the spirit. Here we may take notice of the prudence of the Jesuit, if he had ever read Philostratus, Of the life of Apollonius; whether to be styled the Philosopher, or Magician, I know not; but one that was worshipped (in opposition to Christ) by divers ancient Heathens, for a very God: (we have had him once before already, in the chapter of Rhetorical enthusiasm:) Or in case he had never read him, admire the providence of chance, that two good wits should so punctually jump, not in the substance only of the thing, but in the very name, though not quantity, of the measure, at such a distance, not of places only, (as probably,) but of years, I am sure, more than a thousand by many hundreds. The matter is this: Philostratus (accounted by some a very fabulous Author, but justifiable enough, in comparison of that liberty some have taken since him, to forge miracles:) in his third book of Apollonius his life, relating there his peregrination to India, and his encounter with the Brachmannes, (who to this day retain the name, and no little portion of their ancient philosophy:) their entertainment of him, their manner of living in their ordinary conversation among themselves, but particularly, what wonderful things they did in his sight; among others, one is, their sacred Dances at their Devotions. the manner whereof was; They struck the ground with a mystical rod; upon which, the ground under them did arise in waves, by which they were carried up in height above all ground (I should make some question whether he meant above the plain ground, or above those mounting surges, but that I find in Eusebius, by way of explication; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:) just two cubits. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, both in Philostratus and Eusebius: which I know not why the Latin Interpreter, in Aldus his edition would rather express by duos ferme passus, (though passus I know, there be minores, and majores;) then as the Interpreter of Eusebius, altitudine bicubita. Now if the Jesuit had read Apollonius, there was all the reason in the world that he should double the measure; lest it should be objected, that Ignatius Loyola, had not he gone above two cubits, did no more, than what by Idolatrous Pagans and Philosophers had been done so long before: which would not have been so much to his praise. But if he happened upon that measure by mere chance, without any regard to those heathen Philosophers; I will not repeat what I have said of it already: but it may seem so strange unto some, perchance, as to breed a doubt, whether it be not more probable, that both the one and the other, both Philostratus and Maffeius, when they wrote these pretty things, were not inspired by one and the same spirit, then to cast it upon mere chance.  
But now to somewhat that may be more serious, if not more pleasant. There be many things written of the Messaliani, I know; and I believe nothing written, but may be true of some of them. It is seldom seen otherwise, but that they that take the liberty to leave the Common Rule, to follow some broacher of new doctrine; will also take the liberty to invent somewhat of themselves, besides what was thought upon by their Leader. But that which was general unto all that went under that Name, from which also they took their names of Messaliani, and Euchitae; what that was, S. Augustine tells us in these words: Messaliani,— Enchitae, ab orando sic appellati, etc. 
August. de Hares. cap. 57  that is, The Messalians, or, Euchites, so called from praying; wherein they are so assiduous, that it seemeth incredible unto most that hear of it. For whereas our Saviour hath said, that we must always pray, and not faint; and his Apostle, Pray without ceasing: (which rightly understood imports, that our set times of prayer should be neglected upon no day:) these men do it so overmuch, that for their very excess herein, they are reckoned among the heretics. Other things are said of them, etc. The same is more fully related by Theodoret in his Ecclesiastical History: where we read how Flavianus Bishop of Antiochia, desirous to know the certainty of those things that were spoken of them, found a way to insinuate himself into the good opinion of one of the chief for years and authority; who informed him to this effect: That all men brought with them into the world an evil spirit, by which they were possessed, until by earnest prayer (the only means effectual, and available for such a purpose,) the evil being driven away, the good spirit of God did take possession of their souls: who also would testify his presence unto them by certain visible signs and evidences. After which, they needed no more; no Sacraments, no Sermons, no Scripture, to make them perfect. That they could also see the holy trinity visibly, and foretell things to come.  
This is the sum of the account given to Flavianus by old Adelphius, a grand veterane professor of that Sect. That the same did apply themselves, as to prayer, so to revelations, from whence also they got the name of Enthusiasts, is the observation not of Theodoret only, but of all that writ of them. Although I will not take upon me to determine, whether all, or how many, in progress of time, of these Enthusiasts, became really possessed by the Devil; and in case it be supposed that all, or most, in progress of time, were; yet then to determine the moment of time, or particular manner, be as much beyond my ability, as it is besides my task: we may nevertheless safely and probably enough conclude, that there is not much in either of those relations, that doth evince more, then may well be referred to natural enthusiasm. For first of all, I will suppose, which I think will easily be granted, that every young novice, after he had once entered his name into that family, or sect, was prepared, partly by strange relations of Devils and Angels; and partly by the wild and stern countenance of his Instructors, and all their ghastly crew; and partly by some other mystical ways, practised at this day among the Jesuits in some places; prepared, I say, for some time, before he betook himself to those exercises, that were to be the means of his transformation. This very preparation, if we reflect upon natural causes and considerations, was enough to crack the brains of them that were not extraordinarily sound. But afterwards, when fully persuaded that the Devil was in them, which must be driven out by earnest, assiduous praying; and that the expelling of an evil, would be the bringing in of a blessed spirit, who would manifest himself by heavenly soul-ravishing visions and revelations; what might not this belief, this expectation, this intention of the mind, and obstinate assiduity of endeavours, upon the most sound and sober? And if once ecstatical, that is, out of their right wits, they needed no other enchantment for visions and revelations: it is very likely, except there were somewhat in their natural temper that hindered, that they would offer themselves in course of nature. I appeal (if any make a question) to those many instances, that have been treated of in the chapter of Philosophical enthusiasm. But if they came once to foretell things future, as it often happens in such cases: though I allow of some kind of divinatorie natural enthusiasm, as hath been discussed in its proper place; yet withal believing with the best and most experienced Physicians and Naturalists, that it is very ordinary for the Devil, (according to his nature and mischievous ends, to draw men from the worship of the true God, to the observation of such vanities and curiosities; little better in the eyes of God then direct apostasy, or idolatry;) to take the advantage of such natural distemper, to produce supernatural effects: upon this ground, I should be more apt to refer such divination to supernatural, then natural causes. As for the wonderful increase and propagation of these praying Enthusiasts, in those days, which occasioned the destruction of many Convents and Monasteries, in divers places; as we find in ancient Histories: I have a consideration, or rather a quaere upon it already in the forequoted chapter; neither am I provided at this time, to say more upon it (which perchance I may, at another time:) than I have done there.  
I have done with the Messaliani: who, as hath already been said, had their name from their assiduous affected praying. But the greatest Euchite that ever I read of, was one Haron, a Mahometan Prince, a Chaliph of Egypt; who a hundred times every day (whether of his reign, or pilgrimages, which were many, is doubtful to some by the words; but I think of his reign:) was upon his knees, 
Hist. Arab. ab Erpenio publicata.  (Erpenius, in his translation, ingeniculationibus; that is, according to the propriety of the Arabic word, and the custom of many in the Orient, when the body is bowed so low, that the hands rest upon the knees:) at his devotions. He was a very valiant Prince, and mightily prevailed against Christians. But this by the way only.  
There is somewhat else here to be considered of: wherein as I shall not peremptorily determine, so I shall desire the Reader not to condemn before he have read and well considered. That there is a faith of Miracles distinct from a true, that is, a sanctifying, and justifying faith: that not unsanctified Christians only, (which of the two sorts, are the worst men;) but professed Infidels also may do some Miracles; as it may easily be proved by Scriptures, so is acknowledged as well by Papists, (who stand upon miracles more than we do,) as by Protestants. Whether there be not some kind of faith, or trust in God, whereof unsanctified Christians, and many that have not the knowledge of the true God, are capable; which in the course of God's general providence, according to his will and appointment from the beginning, may sometimes (with the concurrence of other causes, best known unto God,) produce great deliverances to the parties, and other strange, and little less than miraculous effects; is that I would now consider of, or rather propose to the consideration of others. What may be objected out of Scripture, we shall see by and by. I will first show what grounds I have to move this question. First for Scripture; that God doth hear sometimes the prayers of all men promiscuously, who fervently call upon him in their necessity, we have the whole 107 psalms to trust to, and Calvin's authority (which with some men will go much further than sound reason;) to oppose, if any should study evasions from such manifest and express determination. Heraclitus, a Philosopher of great antiquity, highly magnified by Hypocrates, was wont to say; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, (according to Plutarch's interpretation and application, 
Plut. in Coriolano. The words are quoted by some other; as by Clem. Alex. for one: but, neither written (as I remember,) nor interpreted by him, as by Plut. ) that the greatest of Gods miraculous works were not known unto men, because of their unbelief.; which Plutarch himself elsewhere calleth, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the evil, or infirmity of unbelief. Certainly they that spoke so, had in their time observed somewhat in the course of the world, which led them to this observation, by way of maxim, or speculation. We read in the Gospel, that Christ did not (that he could not; Mark 6.5, 6.) many mighty works in his own country, because of their unbelief: (Matth. 13.5, 8.) And Acts 14.9. S. Peter before he did a miracle upon the lame man, looked upon him first whether he had faith to be healed. The poor Cananitish woman her faith is highly commended by Christ, & her request therefore granted unto her; who by her profession was yet a mere Pagan, and therefore resembled unto a dog by Christ himself, in opposition to them that did worship the true God, the God of Israel. I mention these places; but whether any thing to be concluded out of them to our purpose, rather than I will stand to dispute it, if any body be peremptory against it, let them go for nothing. Especially, (though I deny the necessity of the consequence:) if any shall attempt from hence to argue against the miraculousness of those cures, or extraordinary supernatural power of the parties, by whom they were done.  
S. chrysostom doth seem to ground it upon Scriptures but his own experience and authority, who was a man for his zeal and piety (besides much other worth) not inferior unto any of those whom we call Fathers; may be as considerable to us, as that Scripture, which he seemeth to ground upon. 
Chrysost. in Psal. 10.  In his Commentaries upon the Psalms, in a place, he earnestly persuades all men, as well sinners▪ great sinners, as others, to rid themselves of all care and distraction, and to put their trust in God alone, for safety and protection: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is, yea though thou be as great a sinner, as great can be. 
Eccles. 2.10.  He quotes the words of Ecclesiasticus for it. Look at the generations of old▪ and see: Did ever any trust in the Lord, and was confounded? He saith not, (they are Chrysostom's words;) Did ever any just, (or, good:) but any: that is, whether good or bad. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. that is; For this is marvellous indeed, that even sinners, if they once take hold of this anchor, (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,) no man can hurt them; (or, they become unconquerable.) But S. chrysostom might have added out of the same, upon whom he seemeth to ground, as Scripture; that it is not a light trust, or confidence that will do it: Woe be to fearful hearts, and faint hands, and the sinner (the crafty Politician, as I take it, that would seem to do all by God; and yet doth work more by cunning, then by confidence:) that goeth two ways: woe unto him that is faint-hearted; for he believeth not: for he shall not be defended. But than it may be objected, that the same Author hath other words; as, Order thy way aright: and, Did ever any abide in his fear etc. which seem to restrain it unto such, who though they have been great sinners, perchance, formerly; yet for the time to come, propose to themselves to lead a new life. This may be objected: and somewhat as easily, perchance, (as to the drift of that Author) answered. But I have said as much as I mean, because whatsoever his meaning be, I cannot ground much upon it. If other known and certain Scriptures be objected; as particularly, John ch. 9.21, 22, 23. Now we know that God heareth not sinners, etc. it is answered by some, That that is no Scripture; but a simple report, or testimony of the common opinion: by others, That the words are not intended as an absolute maxim, or proposition extending unto all generally; but unto such only as take upon them (without a right commission,) the office of Prophets, and would do Miracles, for a confirmation of their vocation: that in such a case, God will not hear, etc. I will not warrant either of these answers to be satisfactory: I need not: I will make use of neither, but take the words as Scripture, as knowing, that there be other Scriptures enough to make that sense very canonical. But is there any Scripture almost, so absolutely intended, but is liable to some limitations? God will hear them that are godly, even when he doth not hear them. If he do not sometimes grant unto them what they earnestly pray for, it is for their greater good, that he doth not. He is not a Christian, not so sound a Christian, I am sure, as he should be, that doth not believe this as verily, as he doth believe that there is a God. If God doth hear such sinners sometimes; (as such a faith, I believe, though merely natural, is a very rare thing; especially, if the concurrence of some other cause, as we said before, be requisite:) though he grant them what they desire, as the avoiding of some present great evil, or the achieving of some great exploit, or the like: yet it may be doubted, whether always for their good; who perchance are thereby the more confirmed in their wickedness, which will bring them in the end, to eternal misery. Son, thou art ever with me, etc. Luke 15.31, 32. though it be not altogether the same case; yet are the words so appliable to this, as able, in my judgement, if well thought upon, to take away all scruples and rise of thoughts in that kind.  
But what (if any man object) is this to Precatory enthusiasm? Yes: For I conceive that wherever this natural confidence is found, there is that natural ardour; which is a principal thing in the causes of natural enthusiasm, as already more than once hath been observed. S. Jerome upon those words of the Gospel, The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak; (but upon which of the Gospels, that hath the words, I cannot tell, except I had the book:) hath these words: Hoc adversus temerarios, etc. that is, This is to be noted against some rash men, (or, Christians▪) who persuade themselves that whatever they believe, they shall obtain. But let us consider, that as we have confidence from the fervency of our spirits: so have we as much occasion to fear, because of the weakness of our flesh. Whether he intended this ardour mentis, of a natural, or supernatural zeal, for want of other circumstances, is not easy to judge. For as among them that profess Christianity, and seem to be zealous, as zealous as can be, there be many that are nothing less than Christians: So amongst them that are true, sanctified, orthodox Christians, some may be found, that have more zeal than they have discretion, to discern between time and time, persons and persons, and other circumstances, by which they that intent to do good, aught, as by the word of God they are directed, to guide their zeal. But it is more likely that he intends it of true zeal: for not long after he useth the same words of S. Peter; (eodem mentis ardore, quo caetera:) whose zeal though it were not always seasonable, and therefore sharply reproved by Christ in a place; yet always true and sincere. God forbidden that we should make any question.  
I had rather be silent, than not to speak well. But because my silence may be misconstrued, where so much opportunity doth invite, as well as my judgement: I will rather expose myself to censure, then to disappoint my reader of his expectation. There is one that calls himself Nicolaus Leonicus Thomaeus, an Italian of no small credit in his days, (and I wish no man had done worse upon Aristotle, than he hath done:) who hath set out some philosophical Discourses, or Dialogues, as he calls them; the title of one of which is, Sadoletus, five De Precibus. The subject of the Dialogue is, what it is that maketh Prayers available. I have read it more than once: I am sorry I can make nothing of it, whether I consider him as a Christian, (especially having interessed two Cardinals and one Bishop in the business; the one by his Dedication, the two other, as Interlocutors;) or as a mere philosopher, his chiefest undertaking. The Reader may quickly satisfy himself: It is no long discourse. And when he hath done, if he judge otherwise, let him condemn my dulness, not my malignity: I shall think myself much beholding to him for it.  
I shall conclude this Chapter with a relation. I have read some things, and heard of many, that I have thought strange, in that kind; but never met with any thing of that nature, that I took more notice of. My Author is one that I have named already more than once, as I take it: Antonius Benivenius: whom I find often quoted by learned Physicians, without any exception: which makes me to give him the more credit, though I find myself often posed with his relations. However, the very circumstances of this relation, if judiciously considered, are such, as can admit of no suspicion. But the Reader may believe as much, or as little, as he pleaseth. It may be some ease to him, (Quanto expeditius est dicere, Mendacium, & fabula est? as Seneca somewhere: just as he that confuted Bellarmine with three words, in the Pulpit:) if he be resolved to believe nothing, that he cannot understand: it shall not trouble me, who undertake not for the truth of it. I trust him, whom many before me (men of good judgement,) have trusted: more than which, no ingenuous Reader will require of me. And as I undertake not for the truth, so I will pass no further judgement upon the cause. The case out of his Latin, in my English, is this:  

Anton. Benivenius, the abd. n. ac mir. morb. ac sand. causis: ed. Bas. an. D. 1529. c. 10. p. 215. etc.  A certain Florentine, whose name was Gaspar, having received a wound in the Breast; (or about the Heart;) whilst he endeavours to pull out the dart, pulls out the arrow, but leaves the point behind. When the chirurgeons had done all that could be done by art and skill, to get it out, and all in vain, because it stuck so fast in one of the inmost ribs, that it was impossible to draw it without a larger wound, and some danger of breaking the said rib: (or, without taking away part of the rib with it:) he resolved to undergo any death, though never so painful, rather than to submit to such a cure. But at last being grown desperate, he attempted to hang himself, or to cast himself into the next River (Arnus,) or into some deep Well; and had done it, had not his friends that were about him, watched him with great care and diligence. Among them there was one, Marioctus by name; a man of approved piety and integrity; who besought him with great importunity, that giving over desperation, he would endeavour to commit so incurable an evil into the hands of God, the author of all salvation. Gaspar being at last persuaded by him, betakes himself to God; and ceased not, both night and day, to pray; till at last he was taken with a spirit of divination: (or, fell into fits of divination:) so that he would tell who were coming to him to visit him, even when they were yet fare off. Besides that, he would name all men, though never seen before, by their right names; and exhort all that came to him, to fear God, and to be confident of his help in time of need. That himself was now not only assured of his recovery, and of the day and hour, particularly; but by the same light (that assured him,) he also foresaw many other things that should happen: as, that he was to go to Rome, and die there: the banishment of Petrus Medicis, and his flight: the distresses & Calamities of Florence: the ruin of Italy; and divers other things, which for brevity we omit: the fulfilling whereof (for the most part) we have already seen. As for the point, it came out of the wound of its own accord, the very day & hour that he had foretold: and when it was come out, he ceased to prophecy; and after a while, being gone to Rome, he died there.  
I said I would pass no judgement upon the cause: neither shall I. However, did not I believe, that it had some relation to the contents of this Chapter, the Reader may be sure it should not be here. But though here, yet not any thing from thence to be concluded of the cause, if he remember what hath been said of some cases: some mixed cases: of others, so uncertain and obscure, as not (by me at least,) at all determinable. My Author makes it a Miracle: Miraculo liberatus, is his argument, prefixed before the Chapter. I oppose it not: and I like it the better; First, because in such an extremity, that seemed as much above the patience, as help of man, there was no other way, that either piety or discretion could suggest, but to be importunate with God. And secondly, because address was made unto God immediately. This may relish of lutheranism, with them that have more zeal for Saints, than they have for God: or at the best, think they serve God best, when they pray to them, who but lately (as to God, and Eternity,) were their fellow-servants. But Nicolaus Remigius, I hope, Privy counsellor to the Duke of Lorrein, (as a Duke, so a Cardinal too:) and a great Judge in capital causes, within his Dominions; was no Lutheran. Let any man read the first, and the fourth Chapter of his third book of Daemonolatry: and let him judge, whether there be not cause to suspect such addresses, as are made unto Saints in such cases. But this is more than I intended: I leave the rest to the Reader; and so conclude this Chapter.  
FINIS.