A TREATISE OF THE PASSIONS AND FACVLTIES of the Soule of Man. With the severall Dignities and Cor­ruptions thereunto belonging.

By EDVVARD REYNOLDES, late Preacher to the Honorable Society of Lincoln's Inne: And now Rector of the Church of Braunston in Northamptonshire.

Iuvenal Sat. 1.

Quicquid agunt Homines, Votum, Timor, Ita, Voluptas, Gaudia, Discursus, nostri est farrago Libelli.

LONDON, Printed by R. H. for Robert Bostock, dwelling in Saint Pauls Church-yard at the Signe of the Kings Head. 1640.

TO HER HIGHNESSE THE PRINCESSE ELIZABETH, PRINCESSE PALATINE OF THE RHINE, DVTCHES OF BAVARIA, &c. AND ELDEST Daughter to Her Majestie the Queen of BOHEMIA.

May it please your Highnesse;

WHat the Great PhilosopherAristot. polit. lib. 7, cap. 16. hath observed of Mens Bodies, is, upon so much stronger Reasons, true of their Mindes, by how much our Intellectuall Maturity is more lingring, and sluggish than our Naturall, That the too Early Conceptions and Issues of them doe usu­ally [Page] proove but weake and unusefull. And we shall seldome find, but that those ven­turous Blossoms, whose over-hastie obe­dience to the Early Spring doth anticipate their proper season, and put forth too soone, doe afterwards for their former boldnesse suffer from the injury of seve­rer weather, except at least some happy shelter, or more benigne influence re­deeme them from danger. The like Infe­licity I finde my selfe obnoxious unto at this time. For I know not out of what disposition of minde, whether out of love of Learning (for Amo [...] dixit [...]. [...] [...]l. R [...]dig. l. 16. [...]. 15. Love is venturous, and conceives difficult things easier then they are) or whether out of a Resolution to take some account from my selfe of those few yeares wherein I had then been planted in the happiest of all Soyles, the Schooles of Learning; whether upon these, or any other Inducements, so it hath happened, that I long since have taken boldnesse in the Minority of my Studies to write this ensuing Treatise: That be­fore I adventured on the endevour of [Page] knowing other things, I might first try whether I knew my selfe. Least I should justly incurre the Censure, which that [...] [...] [...] [...]. 6. sowre Philosopher past upon Gramma­rians. That they were better acquainted with the evils of Vlysses then with their owne. This hasty resolution having pro­duced so untimely an issue, It hapned by some accident to be like Moses in his In­fancy exposed to the Seas. Where I made no other account, but that its own weak­nesse would there have revenged my for­mer boldnesse, and betrai'd it unto perish­ing. But as he then, so this now, hath had the marvellous felicity to light on the view, and fall under the compassion of a very Gracious Princesse. For so farre hath your Highnesse vouchsafed (having hapned on the sight of this Tractate) to expresse fauour thereunto, as not onely to spend houres in it, and require a Tran­script of it, but further to recommend it by your Gracious judgement vnto pub­like view. In which particular I was not to advice with mine owne Opinion, [Page] being to expresse my humblest acknow­ledgement to your Highnesse.

This onely Petition I shall accompany it withall unto your Highnesse feete, That since it is a Blossome which put forth so much too soone, It may therefore obtain the Gracious Influence of your Highnesse favour, to protect it from that severity abroad which it otherwise justly feareth.

God Almighty make your Highnesse as great a Mirrour of his continuall Mer­cies, as he hath both of his Graces and of Learning.

Your Highnesse most Humble Servant, EDVVARD REYNOLDES.

A PREFACE TO THE READER.

HAving beene moved to give way unto the Publication of this Phy­losophicall Miscellany, the Fruit of my yonger Studies, I conceive it needfull to prevent one obvi­ous prejudice under which I may labour. For it may haply seeme undecent in me, having ad­ventured to publish some few, though weake Discourses in Arguments Divine, that I should now suffer the Blossomes of my youth to looke abroad and runne the ha [...]rd of Publike Censure. Whereunto when I shall have [...]ven a short answer, I shall rest something the more confident of a C [...]ndid construction.

And here I might first alledge the [...]our which God himselfe hath beene pleased to give. Vnto Ins [...]ur, and Naturall knowledge. In the first Creation when he gave unto man the Do [...]nion over other Creatures for his use, he gave him likewise the [...], and knowledg [...] of them, for his Makers Glory, and his owne Delight. (For God bro [...]ght them unto him to give them Names.) And as the Holy Scriptures are all over full of the Mysteries of Gods wisdome in Natu­rall [Page] Things, so are there some speciall Passages thereof written Iob c [...]p. 38, 39, 40, 41. Psa. 1 [...]4, 147. as it were purposely on that Argument. And we finde that Moses and Solomon have therein Te­stimony given unto them, not onely of their Divine, but of their Humane, and naturall Knowledge likewise.

And if we looke into the Ancient Christian Chur­ches, or into these of later times, wee shall finde that very many Ecclesiasticall persons have not denyed unto the world, their Philosophicall & Poeticall labors, either whole and alone, or mixed, and directed to Theologicall Ends, as we finde in the writings of Clemens Alex­andrinus, Tertullian, Eusebius Caesariensis, Saint Austins Bookes, De Civitate Dei, and others, Ve­nerable Bede, Isidore Hispalensis, Synesius Si­donius Apollinaris, Honorius Augustodunensis, &c. In the Hexam [...]rons of Saint Basil, Nyssen, Ambrose, and the Bookes of those who have written more directly upon some parts of the Argument of this present Treatise, as Gregory Nyssen, Lactantius, Nemesius, Procopius, Gaz [...]us, Damascen, and others. And in later times, besides the Schoolmen, and those vast labours of many of that side, in Dialecticall, Physicall and Metaphysicall writings we might in stance in very many of the R [...]formed Churches abroad, some of whose yonger labours have seene the Light▪ as also in the Oratory▪ Logicall, Morall, Historicall, Mathe maticall, Miscell [...]nious writings of many learned Di vines of our owne Church, under the Protection of which great Examples I shall use the Apologie which Quintilian [...]. 1. cap. 6. dictateth unto me, Vel Error hone­stus est Magnos Duces sequentibus. That it is no uncomely, but a pardonable Errour, which hath great [Page] Examples to excuse it. In which respect I finde my selfe chiefely subject to this Infelicity, that I am constrained to follow such Examples, as little children doe their Fathers, Non aequis passibus, at a very great Distance.

And truely, when I againe, consider the Excellent Et q [...]em de communibus sensibus [...]re in [...], sed in [...] [...]um [...], non i [...] [...] falsi. Tertul. de Resur. carn [...]s. cap. 3. [...]. [...]i­am Apol. cap. 47. & [...]. Alex. Screm. l [...]. p. 203. [...]. 207. A.E. 214. Vse and subordination, of humane learning unto lear­ning Divine (It being hardly possible, without it, to understand sundry passages of holy Scripture, depending upon the propriety of Words and Idiomes, or upon the customes. Rites, Proverbes, Formes, Vsages, Lawes▪ Of­fices, Antiquities of the Assyrian, Persian, Greeke, and Romane Monarchies, as might be shewed in sundry par­ticulars, and were a labour most worthy the industry of some able and learned pen:) when I consider that the [...], 218. 219 223▪ 227 233. 234 & lib. 6. p. 4 [...]5. 467. 499 500. Iustin. Martyr. Apol. 1. Aug. Confesse l. 1. c. 15. Chri­stianu Domini sus esse intelli­git, ubicunque invenerit vt ritatem. Aug. de D [...]ctri. Chri. l. 2. c. 18, 39. 40. [...] Iustin. Apol. 1. V [...]d. Aug. de ci [...]. De [...]. l. 18. c. 52. Greg. Ne­zian. Orat. [...]. [...] Ex [...]cl. 12. 35. spoiles of Egypt were by God allowed to enrich Israel, and 1 Chron. 29. the spoyles of the Gentiles reserved by David for the building of the Temple: That a Deut. 21. 12. Gentile by legall Purification and Marriage, might become an Israelite, That the 2 Sam. 12. 30 Vid. Pet. [...] no [...]. decret. l. 1. Tit. 8. [...]. 4. Crowne of Rabbah was put upon the head of David, and the 1 Sam. 17. 21. Sword of Goliah used to stay him­selfe: That the Mat. 2 11. Gold and Myr [...]h, and Frankincense of the Wise men of the East, was offered unto Christ▪ when I finde the Act. 18▪ 4 17. 23▪. 29 Apostle convincing the Iewes, out of their Law, and the Philosophers out of their Maximes. And that Iac. 1. 17▪ 1 Tim. 4 4. every gift, as well as every Creature of God is good, and may be sanctified for the use and delight of Man; I then conclude with my selfe, That this Morall and Philosophicall Glasse of the humane Soul may be of some service even unto the Tabernacle, as the Ex. 38. 8. Looking glasses of the Israelitish women were unto the Altar.

[Page]N [...]r [...] I [...] a little wonder at the melancholly fancy of Saint De [...]. [...] [...] [...]. Hierom, who conc [...]iving himselfe in a v [...]on beaten by an Angel for being a Ciceronian, did for ever after promise to abjure the Reading of secular [...]. [...] [...] [...] himselfe both justifying the [...] at use of that kind of Learning, and acknow­ledg [...] [...] conce [...]d vision of his to have beene but a Drea [...].

It is true indeed that in regard of the bewitching danger from humane learning, and the too great apt­nesse in the minds of man to surfeit and be intemperate, in the use of it; Some of the Ancients have sometimes interdicted the Reading Vi [...]. Notas Conradi Rit­ [...]sij i [...] Isid. Pelus. Ep. 56. l. 1. of such Authors unto Chri­stian men; But this calleth upon us for watchfulnesse, in our studies, not for negligence, for the Apostle will tell us. That to the pure all things are pure. And evenTertul. [...] script. c. 7. [...] [...]. c. 10. [...], Marc. l. 2. c. [...]. of harmefull things when they are prepared, and their malignancy by Art corrected, doth the skilfull Physi­tian make an excellent use. If then we be carefull to Moderate and Regulate our affections, to take heed of the pride and inslation of secular learning, not to admire Philosophy, to the prejudice of Evangelicall knowledge, as if without the revealed light of the Go­spel, salvation might be found, in the way of Paga­nisme; if we suffer not these leane K [...]ne to devoure the sat ones, nor the River Iordan to be lost in the dead Sea; I meane Piety to be swallowed up of prophane Stu­dies, and the knowledge of the Scriptures (which alone would make any man conversant in all other kinde of Learning with much greater Felicity, and successe:) to be under-valued, and not rather, the more admired, is a Rich Iewell compared with Glasse. In this case, [Page] and with such care as this, there is no doubt, but secular Studies prepared and corrected from Pride and Pro­phanenesse, may be to the Church as the Gt [...]eonites were to the Congregation of Israel, for H [...]wers of Word, and Drawers of Water, otherwise we may say of them as Cato Major to his [...], of the Graecian Art [...] and Learning. [...] [...] [...] [...] [...]. [...]. 13. Quandocunqu [...] ista Gens suas literas dabit, omnia Cor [...]umpet.

Nor have I upon these Considerations onely adven tured on the publication of this Tract, but because with­all, in the reviewing of it, I found very many Touches upon Theologicall Arguments, and some Passages who­ly of that Nature. Yea, all the Materiall parts of the Treatise doe so nearely concerne the knowledge of our selves, and the Direction of our lives, as that they may be all esteemed Borderers upon that Profession.

In the perusing and fashioning of it for the Presse, I have found that true in writing, which I had formerly found true in Building; That it is almost as chargeable to repaire, and set right an Old house, as to Erect a New one. For I was willing in the most materiall parts of it, so to lop off Luxuriances of Style, and to supply the Defects of Matter, as that with Candid, favourable, and ingenuous Iudgements, it might receive some tole­ralle acceptation. In hope whereof I rest,

Thine in all Christian service, EDWARD REYNOLDS.

Perlegi Tractatum hunc, cui Titulus (A Treatise of the Passions and Fa­culties of the Soule, &c) in quo nihil reperio orthodoxae fidei, aut bonis mo­ribus adversum, quo minus cum sum­ma utilitate imprimatur.

Tho. Wykes. R. P. Episc. Lond. Capell. domest.

A Summary of the severall Chap­ters contained in this Booke.

  • Chap. 1. OF the dependance of the Soul in her operations upon the body. Pag. 1.
  • Chap. 2. In what cases the dependance of the Soul on the body, is lessened by faith, custome, education, oc­casion. p. 8.
  • Chap▪ 3. Of the Memory, and some few causes of the weaknesse thereof. p. 13.
  • Chap. 4. Of the Fancy it's offices to the will and rea­son, vol [...]bility of thoughts fictions, errours, lev [...]ty fixednesse. p. 18.
  • Chap. 5. Of Passions, their Nature and distribution, of the motions of naturall creatures, guided by a knowledge without them: and of rationall creatures guided by a knowledge within them: of Passions mentall sensitive, and rationall. p. 31.
  • Chap. 6. Of humane Passions in generall, th [...]ir use, naturall, morall, civill: their subordination [...], or rebell on against right rea [...]n. p▪ [...]1.
  • Chap. 7. Of the exercise of Passion [...] [...] Apathy: of [...], [...], [...], [...] [...] Cure thereof p. 4 [...].
  • Chap. 8. Of [...] [...]ls of Passions, [...] th [...]y [...] vertue: of [...] [...] [...], of [...] [...] [...], diverti [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] of [...], and of their [...] [...] [...]. p. 57.
  • [Page] Chap. 9. Of the affection of Love, of Love naturall, of generall Communion, of Love rationall, the object and generall cause thereof. p. 74.
  • Chap. 10. Of the rule of true Love: the Love of God and our selves: similitude to these, the cause of Love in other things: of Love of Concup [...]ence: how love begetteth Love: and how pr [...]sence with, and absence from the Object, doth upon different re­flects exercise and encrease Love, p. 81.
  • Chap. 11. Of the effects of Love, union to the Ob­ject, stay and immoration of the minde upon it, rest in it, zeal [...], strength, and tend [...]rnesse towards it, con­descention unto it, lique [...]ion and languishing for it. p. 98.
  • Chap. 12. Of the Passion of [...]atred, the fundamentall cause or object thereof, evill: How farre forth evils willed by God, may be declined by men, of Gods se­ [...]t and revealed will. p. 111.
  • Chap. 13. Of the other causes of Hatred secret An­tipathy▪ Difficulty of procuring a Good commanded, [...], base sears, disparity of Desires, a fixed jealous [...]. p. 119.
  • Chap. 14. Of the Quality and Quantity of Hatred▪ and how [...] either respects it is to be regulated. p. 131.
  • Chap. 15. Of the [...] and evill Effects of Hatred, [...] [...] Wisedome to profit by that wee hate, w [...]th Confidence, Victory▪ Reformation. Ha­tred, in generall against the whole kinde, cunning [...]ss [...], cruelty, running [...]ver to persons Inno­cent, vielating Religion. Envy, Rejoy [...]ing at evill. Creeked suspition, contempt, contumely. p. 137.
  • [Page] Chap. 16. Of the affection of Desire, what it is. The severall kindes of it, naturall, rationall, spirituall, in­temperate, unnaturall morbid Desires. The Object of the [...], good, pleasant, as possible, as absent, either in whole, or in degrees of perfection, or continuance. The most generall internall cause vacuity, indigence other causes, admiration▪ greatnesse of minde, curio▪sity. p. 161.
  • Chap. 17. Of other causes of Desire, Infirmity, Te­merity, Mutability of Minde, Knowledge, Repen­tance, Hope, of the effects of it in generall labour, languor. In speciall, of rationall Desires, bounty, griefe, wearinesse, indignation against that which withstands it. Of vitious Desires, deception, ingra­titude, envie, greedinesse, basenesse of Resolution. p. 177.
  • Chap. 18. Rules touching our Desires. Desires of lower Objects, must not be either Hasty, or unboun­ded, such are unnaturall, turbid, unfruitfull, unthank­full. Desires of heavenly objects fixed, permanent, industrious, connexion of vertues, sluggish desires. p. 190.
  • Chap, 19. Of the affection of joy or delight, the seve­rall objects thereof, corporall, morall, intellectuall, Divine. p. 197.
  • Chap. 20. Of the causes of Ioy. The union of the Ob­ject to the Faculty, by Contemplation, Hope, Fruiti­on, changes by accident a cause of Delight. p. 203.
  • Chap. 21. Of other causes of Delight, Vnexpected­nesse of a good, strength of Desire. Imagination, Imitation. Fitnesse and accommodation. Of the effects of this Passion: Reparation of Nature, Di­latation. [Page] Thirst in noble Objects, satiety in baser. Whetting of Industry. Atmorous unbeliefe. p. 211
  • Chap▪ 22. Of the affection of sorrow the object of it, evill▪ sensitive, intellectuall as present in it selfe, or to the minde, by memory, or suspition, particular causes, effects of it, Feare, Care, Experience, Erudition, Ir­resolution, Despaire, Execration, Distempers of bo­dy, p. 221.
  • Chap. 23. Of the affection of Hope, the Object of it, Good, Future, Possible, Difficult. Of Regular and inordinate Despaire. p. 233.
  • Chap. 24. Of the causes of Hope, Want, and Weaknesse together, Experience and Knowledge. In what sense Ignorance may be said to strengthen, and know ledge to weaken Hope: Examples quicken more then Precept, provision of aides: the uncertainty of out­ward meanes to establish Hope, goodnesse of Nature, Faith, and Cred [...]lity▪ wise Confidence. p. 240.
  • Chap. 25. Of the effects of Hope: Stability of minde▪ wearines, arising not out of weaknes, but out of want, Contention, and forthputting of the Minde. Patience under the want, Distance, and Difficulty of Good desired, waiting upon aide expected. p. 254.
  • Chap. 26. Of the affection of Boldnesse, what it is, the causes of it, strong Desires, strong Hopes, Aydes, Supplies, Reall or in Opinion. Despaire and extre­mities, experience, ignorance, Religion, immunity from danger, Dext [...]rity of Wit, Strength of Love, Pride or Greatnesse of Minde and Abilities. The effects of it, Executi [...]n of things advised, Temeri­ty, &c. p. 258.
  • Chap. 27. Of the Passion of Feare: the causes of it, [Page] Impotency, Obno [...]ousnesse, Suddennesse, Neerenesse, Newnesse, Conscience, Ignerance of an evill. p. 274.
  • Chap. 28. Of the effects of Feare, Suspition, Cir­cumspection, Superstition, betraying the succours of Reason, Feare generative, rest [...]cting inward wea [...] ­ning the Faculties of the minde, base Susp [...]tion, wise Caution. p. 210.
  • Chap. 29. Of that particular affection of Feare▪ which is called shame, what it is. Whom we thus feare. The ground of it evill of Turpitude. Inju­stice, Intemperance, Sordidnesse, So [...]nesse, Pusilla­nimity, Flattery, Vainglory, Misfortun [...], Ignorance Pragmaticalnesse, Deformity, Greatnesse of Minde, unworthy Correspondencies, &c. Shame, v [...]ous, and vertuous. p. 300.
  • Chap. 30. Of the affection of Anger, the distincti­ons of it, The fundamentall cause thereof contempt. Three kindes of Contempt, dis [...]estimation disap­pointment, Calumny. p. 31 [...].
  • Chap. 31. Of other causes of Anger: first in regard of him that suffers wrong: Excellency, weaknesse, strong d [...]sires, sus [...]ition, Next [...]regard of him who doth it; Rasenesse, Impudence, Neerenesse, Free­dome of speech, Contention, Ability, the effects of Anger, the immutation of the Body▪ Impulsion of Reason, Exp [...]dition, Precipitance. Rules for the mo­derating of this Passion. p. 322.
  • Chap. 32, Of the originall of the Reasonable Soule whither it be immediately created and i [...]sused, [...] derived by seminall Traduction from the Parents. Of the derivation of originall sinne. p. 391.
  • Chap. 33. Of the Image of God in the Reasonable [Page] Soule in regard of it's simplicity, and spirituality. p. 400.
  • Chap. 34. Of the Soules Immortality proved by it's simplicity, independance, agreement. Of Nations in acknowledging a God and duties due to him, dignity above other creatures, power of understanding things immortall, unsatisfiablenesse by Objects mor­tall, freenesse from all causes of corruption. p. 407.
  • Chap. 35. Of the honour of humane bodies by crea­tion, by resurrection, of the endowments of glorified bodies. p. 420.
  • Chap. 36. Of that part of Gods image in the Soule, which answereth to his Power, Wisedome, Know­ledge, Holinesse. Of mans dominion over other Crea­tures. Of his love to Knowledge, what remainders we retaine of originall Iustice. p. 429.
  • Chap. 37. Of the Faculty of understanding, it's ope­ration outward upon the object. Inward upon the will. Of Knowledge, what it is. The naturall desire and love of it. Apprehension, Iudgement, Retenti­on requisite unto right Knowledge. Severall kindes of Knowledge. The originall Knowledge given unto man in his Creation. The benefits of Know­ledge, of Ignorance naturall, voluntary, Poenal, of Cu­riosity, of Opinion, the causes of it, Disproportion be­tweene the Object and the Faculty, and an acute versutilo [...]snesse of conceits, the benefits of modest Hesitancy. p. 444.
  • Chap. 38. Of Errours: the causes thereof. The a­buses of Principles, falsifying them: or transferring the truth of them out of their owne bounds. Affe­ctations of singularity, and novell courses. Credulity [Page] and thraldome of judgement unto others. How Anti­quity is to be honoured. Affection to particular ob­jects corrupteth judgement. Curiosity in searching things secret. p. 483
  • Chap▪ 39. The actions of the understanding, inventi­tion, Wit, Iudgement: of Invention, Distrust, Pre­judice, Immaturity: Of Tradition by speech, Wri­ting: Of the Dignities and Corruption of speech. p. 500.
  • Chap. 40. Of the Actions of the understanding upon the Will, with respect to the End and Meanes. The power of the understanding over the Will, not Com­manding, but directing the Objects of the Will to be good and convenient. Corrupt Will lookes onely at Good present. Two Acts of the Vnderstanding, Knowledge and Consideration. It must also be pos­sible, and with respect to happinesse Immortall. Ig­norance and Weaknesse in the Vnderstanding, in proposing the right means to the last End. p. 517.
  • Chap. 41. Of the Conscience; it's Offices of Directi­on, Conviction, Comfort, Watchfulnesse, Memory, Impartiality. Of Consciences Ignorant, Superstiti­ous, Sleeping▪ Frightfull, Tempestuous. p. 531.
  • Chap. 42. Of the Will: it's Appetite: with the proper and chiefe Objects therof, God. Of Superstiti­on and Idolatry. Of it's Liberty in the Electing of Meanes to an End. Of it's Dominion Coactive and perswasive. Of Fate, Astrology. Satanicall Suggestions. Of the manner of the Wills Opera­ation, Motives to it. Acts of it. The Conclu­sion. p. 537.

A TREATISE of the Passions and Faculties of the SOULE of MAN.
CHAP. I. Of the dependance of the Soule, in her operations upon the Body.

IT hath been a just Complaint of Learned Men, that usually wee are more curious in our inquiriesCic. de Div. lib. 2. after things New than excellent;Plin. lib. 2. ep. 20. and that the very neerenesse of worthy Objects, hath at once made them both despised and unknowne. Thus like Children, with an idle diligence, and fruit­lesse Curiositie, wee turne over this great Booke of Nature, without perusing those ordinarie [Page 2] Characters, wherein is exprest the greatest power of the Worker, and excellencie of the Worke; fixing our Admiration onely on those Pictures and unusuall Novelties, which though for their rarenesse they are more strange, yet for their na ture are lesse worthy. Every Comet or burning Meteor strikes more wonder into the beholder,Cic. d [...] Nat. Deor. lib. 2. than those glorious Lampes of Nature, with their admirable Motions and Order, in which the Heathen have acknowledged a Divinenesse. Let a Child be borne but with six fingers, or have a part more than usuall, wee rather wonder at One supers [...]uous, than at All naturall. Sol specta­torem nisi cum desicit non habet, nemo observat Lu­nam Sen. qu. Nat. lib. 7. c. 1. nisi laborantem, adeò naturale est magis nova, quàm magna mirari: None looketh with wonde [...] on the Sunne, but in an Eclipse; no eye gazeth on the Moone, but in her Travell: so naturall it is with men, to admire rather things N [...]w than Common. Whereas indeed things are fit for studie and observation, though never so common, in regard of the perfection of their nature, and usefulnesse of their knowledge. In which re­spect, the plaine Counsell of the Oracle was one of the wi [...]est which was ever given to man, To studie and to know himselfe; because, by reason of his owne neerenesse to himselfe, hee is usually of himselfe most unknowne and neglected. And yet if wee consider, how in him it hath pleased God to stampe a more notable Character of his owne Image, and to make him, amongst all hisSen. de [...]. lib. 6. c. 23. Workes, one of the most perfect Models of crea­ted [Page 3] excellencie, wee cannot but acknowledge him to be one, though of the least, yet of the fit­test Volumes, in this great varietie of Nature to be acquainted withall. Intending therefore, ac­cording to my weakenesse, to take some view of the inside, and more noble Characters of this Booke, it will not be needfull for me to gaze up­on the Cover, to insist on the materials or sensi­tive conditions of the humane nature, or to commend him in his Anatomie; though even in that respect the Psalmist tells us, that he is feare­fully and wonderfully made: for wee commonly see, that as most kind of Plants or Trees exceed us in vegetation and fertilitie; so, many sorts ofSen. Ep. 76. beasts have a greater activitie and exquisitenesse in their senses than wee. And the reason hereof is, because Nature aiming at a superiour and more excellent end, is in those lower faculties lesse intent and elaborate. It shall suffice there­fore, onely to lay a ground-worke in these lower faculties, for the better notice of mans greater perfections, which have ever some connexion and dependance on them. For whereas the principall acts of mans Soule are either of Reason and Discourse, proceeding from his Vnderstanding; or of Action and Moralitie, from his Will; both these, in the present condition of mans estate, have their dependance on the Organs and faculties of the Body, which in the one precede, in the other follow: To the one, they are as Por­ters, to let in and convey; to the other as Mes­sengers, to performe and execute: To the one, [Page 4] the whole Body is as an Eye, through which it seeth; to the other a Hand, by which it worketh.

Concerning the ministrie therefore of the Body unto the Soule, wee shall thus resolve; That the Reasonable part of Man, in that con­dition of subsistence which now it hath, depends in all its ordinarie and naturall operations, uponSolirus de [...] [...]esert quid accepto [...] in [...]c­cipitio ad tan­tam devenit ignorantiam ut [...]esciret se ha [...]isse no­men. Honori [...] [...]. de Philosoph. M [...]di, lib. 4. c. 24. the happie or disordered temperature of those vitall Qualities, out of whose apt and regular commixion the good estate of the Body is fra­med and composed. For though these Ministe­riall parts have not any over-ruling, yet they have a disturbing power, to hurt and hinder the ope­rations of the Soule▪ Whence wee finde, that sundry diseases of the Body doe oftentimes wea­ken, yea, sometimes quite extirpate the deepest impression and most fixed habits of the minde. For, as wheresoever there is a locomotive facul­tie, though there be the principall cause of all motion and activitie; yet if the subordinate in­struments, the bones and sinewes be dis-jointed, shrunke, or any other wayes indisposed for the exercise of that power, there can be no actuall motion; Or as in the Body Politique▪ the Prince (whom Seneca calleth the Soule of the Com­mon-wealth)Sen. de Clem. lib. 1. cap▪ 4. receiveth either true or false intel­ligence from abroad, according as is the fidelitie or negligence of those instruments▪ whom Xeno­phon tearmeth the Eyes and Eares of Kings: InXenop▪ Cyrop. lib. 8. & Arist. Polit. lib. 3. c. 12. like manner, the Soule of man being not an ab­solute independant worker, but receiving all her [Page 5] objects by conveyance from these bodily instru­ments, which Cicero calleth the Messengers to the Soule, if they out of any indisposition shall be weakened, the Soule must continue like a Rasa Tabula, without any acquired or introduced ha­bits. The Soule hath not immediately from it selfe that strange weakenesse, which is observed in many men, but onely ▪as it is disabled by Earthie and sluggish Organs; which being out of order, are more burthensome than serviceable thereunto.

There are observable in the Soules of men, considered in themselves, and in reference one to another, two defects; an imperfection, and an inequalitie of operation: the former of these I doe not so ascribe to that bodily weakenesse, whereby the Soule is any way opprest, as if I conceived no internall darknesse in the faculties themselves; since the fall of man working in him a generall corruption, did amongst the rest infatuate the Mind, and as it were smother the Soule with ignorance; so that the outward in­eptitude of bodily instruments, is onely a fur­therance and improvement of that Native im­perfection. But for the inequalitie and difference of mens understandings in their severall opera­tions, notwithstanding it be questioned in the Schooles, Whether the Soules of men have not originally, in their Nature, degrees of perfection and weakenesse, whence these severall degrees of operation may proceed; yet neverthelesse that being granted, I suppose, that principally it pro­ceeds [Page 6] from the varietie, tempers, and dispositi­ons in the instrumentall faculties of the Body▪ by the helpe whereof, the Soule in this estate worketh: for I cannot perceive it possible, that there should have beene, if man had continued in his Innocencie, (wherein our Bodies should have had an exact constitution, free from those distempers to which now by sinne they are lya­ble) such remarkable differences betweene mens apprehensions, as wee now see there are: for there should have beene in all men a great facilitie to apprehend the mysteries of Nature, and to ac­quire knowledge (as wee see in Adam) which now wee finde in a large measure granted to some, and to others quite denyed. And yet in that perfect estate (according to the opinion of those who now maintaine it) there would have beene found a substantiall and internall inequa­litie amongst the Soules of men: and therefore principally this varietie comes from the sundry constitutions of mens bodies; in some, yeel­ding enablement, for quicknesse of Apprehensi­on; in others, pr [...]ssing downe and intangling the Vnderstanding; in some, disposing the Minde unto one object; in some, unto ano­ther; according as the impetus and force of their naturall affections carrieth them. And there­fore Aristotle in his Politiques ascribeth the in­equalitieArist. Polit. lib. 7. which hee observes betweene the Asia­tique and European Wits, unto the severall Cli­mates and temperature of the Regions in which they lived; according whereunto, the Complexi­ons [Page 7] and Constitutions of their Bodies onelyArist. de Ani­m [...] ▪ lib. 3. could be alter'd; the Soule being in it selfe, ac­cording to the same Philosopher, impassible from any corporeall Agent. And to the same purpose againe he saith, That if an old man had a young mans eye, his sight would be as sharpe and as distinct as a young mans is; implying [...] diversitie of Perception to be grounded on [...]ly on the diversitie of bodily instruments, by which it is exercised. And therefore he elsewhere ob­servesDe Anima, lib. 2. (I shall not trouble my selfe to examine upon what ground) that men of soft and tender skins have greatest quicknesse of wit; and on the contrarie, Duri Carne, inepti [...]mente: thereby intimating, that there is no more significant and lively expression of a vigorous or heavie Soule, than a happie or ill-ordered Body; wherein wee may sundry times reade the abilities of the Minde, and the inclinations of the Will: So then it is manifest, that this weakenesse of ap­prehension in the Soules of men, doth not come from any immediate and proper darknesse be­longing unto them; but onely from the co­existence which they have with a Body ill­disposed for assistance and information. For hee who is carried in a Coach (as the Body is vehiculum animae) though he be of himselfe more nimble and active, must yet receive such motion as that affoords; and Water, which is conveyed through Pipes and Aqueducts, though its motion by it selfe would have beene other­wise, must yet then be limitted by the posture [Page 8] and proportion of the Vessels through which it passeth.

CHAP. II. In what Cases the dependance of the Soule on the Body, is lessened by Faith, Custome, Education, Oc­casion.

BVt yet this dependance on the Body is not so necessarie and im­mutable, but that it may admit of variation, and the Soule be in some cases vindicated from the impression of the Body: And this first, in extra­ordinarie; and next, in more common actions. In actions extraordinarie, as those pious and re­ligious operations of the Soule, Assent, Faith, Invocation, and many others▪ wherein the Soule is carried beyond the Sphere of Sense, and trans­ported unto more raysed operations: For to be­leeve and know, that there are layd up for pious and holy endeavours those joyes which eye hath not seene, nor care heard, and to have some glimpses and fore-taste of them, which Saint Paul calleth the Earnest, and first fruits of the Spirit; What is this, but to leave sense behind us, and to out-run [Page 9] our Bodies? And therefore it is, that Religion, I meane chiefely, the Principles, Foundations, Articles, and Mysteries Evangelicall, were al­wayes not to be urged by Disputes of Secular Learning, but to be sacredly and secretly infu­sed; not so much perswading to the knowledgeI v [...]ngel. non in deget Sylle­ [...] of apparent Truths▪ as drawing to the beleese of true Mysteries. Divine Truths doe as much transcend the Reason▪ as Divine Goodnesse doth the Will of Man. That One Nature should be in Three Persons, and Two Natures in One Per­son: That the invisible God should be manifested in the flesh, and a pure Virgin bring forth a Sonne; That Death should be conquered by dying, and not be able to digest and consume the Body which it had devoured: That dead bones should live, and they who dwell in the dust awake and sing: These are Mysteries, not onely above the reach of Humane, but even of Evangelicall disquisition; in somuch, that even unto Principalities and Powers they were not otherwise made knowne, but by Divine Revelation delivered unto the Church. Sarah laughed, when Abraham beleeved; and the Philosophers mocked, when Paul disputed; and Reason expected, that the Apostle should have fallen downe dead, when contrarily, Faith shooke the Viper into the fire. There is a great difference betweene the manner of yeelding our assent unto God and Nature: For in Philosophie, we never resigne our beleese, nor suffer our judgements to be wholly carried to any Conclusion, till there be a demonstrative Argument grounded on In­duction [Page 10] from the Sense, for the enforcement thereof. But Divinitie, on the other side, whe [...] God speakes unto us, worketh Science by Faith▪ making us so much the more assured of thos [...] Truths which it averreth, than of any Natural [...] Conclusions, (notwithstanding they may seem [...] sometimes to beare opposition to humane Rea­son) by how much Divine Authoritie is more absolute and certaine, than any Naturall demon­stration. And this freedome from bodily re­straint, have (according to the Schoole-men) those Raptures and Extasies, which rayse and ravish the Soule, with the sweetnesse of extra­ordinarie Contemplations. And yet even Reli­gion it selfe hath so much condiscended to the senses of men, as to give them manner of roome and service in this great Mysterie. And therefore generally, the Doctrine of Christ is set forth in Parables and Similitudes, and the Faith in Christ confirmed by Sacraments; things most agreeable to the perception and capacitie of the Senses.

Now, for the exemption of the more ordinarie actions of the Soule from any predominancie of the Body, it is chiefely wrought by these three meanes, Education, Custome, and Occasion. For the Rule of Aristotle, though in Agents purelyVid. Arist. [...]ic. lib. 10. c. 9. [...]ic. l. 2. c. 1. Naturall and peremptorie (which are not di­rected by any degree of knowledge inherent) it held true; yet in Man it is not universall, That any thing which comes from Nature, is unalte­rable by Custome: For we commonly observe, [Page 11] that the Culture of the Minde, as of the Earth, doth many times deliver it from the barrennesse of its owne Nature.

Exercetque frequens tellurem atque imperat arvis;
As frequent Husbandry commands
The emptiest and most barren Lands.

Education then, and Custome, doe as it were revenge Nature; insomuch, that though the outward Humours and Complexions doe worke the Mind unto an unhappie temper, yet by a con­tinuall grapling with these difficulties, it getteth at the last some victorie, though not without much reluctancie.

And for Occasion; that alters the naturall in­clination of the Will and Affections, rather than of the Vnderstanding: for so wee see, that the byas and force of mens desires are oftentimes turned, by reason of some sudden emergent oc­currences, contrarie to the standing temper and complexion of the Body. Thus wee reade some times of men in Warre; who notwithstanding of themselves timerous and sluggish, yet when the disadvantage of the place had taken away all possibilitie of flight, and the crueltie of the Adversarie all hope of mercie, if they should be conquered, have strangely gayned by their owne despaires, and gotten great and prospe­rous Victories, by a forc'd and unnaturall for­titude.

[Page 12]Vna salus victis, nullam sperare salutem.
The onely weapon which did win the day,
Was their despaire, that they were cast away.

An example whereof, wee have in the Phili­stims: 1 Sa [...]. 4 6, 7, 8 When the Israelites brought forth the Arke of the Lord in the Campe, they were sore afraid, and cryed out, Woe unto us, woe unto us; who shall deliver us out of the hands of these mightie Gods? And thereupon resolved to quit them­selves like men, and fight. And Caesar in his Commentaries telleth us of a people▪ who whenCaesar Com. [...]1. they went out to Warre, would burne their Hou­ses; that having no Home of their owne, to flye unto, they might by that despaire, be urged to gaine one by the Sword. The Historian repor­teth of a Band of Scythians, who though theyIustin. were of themselves bond-slaves, did notwith­standing, upon occasion of their Masters ab­sence, endeavour to shake off their in-bred Ci­vilitie; usurping to themselves a Freedome, of which the basenesse of their condition was un­capable: Nor could they be removed from this Insolencie, till the sight of Rods and Staves, and other the like instruments of feare, had driven them back into their Nature againe.

CHAP. III. Of the Memorie, and some few causes of the weakenesse thereof.

NOw for these inward Senses, which are commonly accounted three, (though extending themselves unto sundry o­perations of differing qualities) [...] take the two later, to wit, Memorie, and Fancie, or Imagination, to have a more excellent degree of perfection in man; as being indeed the princi­pall Store-houses and Treasuries of the o [...] [...] ­ons of the Soule. Where▪ by Memorie, I under stand not the facultie, as it is common to beas [...]s with men, and importeth nothing but the simple retention, and conservation of some species, for­merly treasur'd up by the conveyance of the outward sense: but as it is Consors & co-operatrix Rationis, [...]s Hugo speakes, a joynt-worker in theLib. de spirit. & anima. operations of Reason; which the Latines call Reminiscentia, or Recordatio; including some acts of the Vnderstanding▪ Which is a reviewing, or (as wee speake) a calling to minde of former objects, by discourse, or rationall searching for them; which is made by Aristotle to be the re­mote ground of all Arts: For (saith hee) Me­morie is the Ground of Experience, and Expe­rienceMetaph. lib. 1. the Mother of Art: The dignitie hereof in man, is seene, both by perfecting the Vnder­standing▪ [Page 14] in matter of Learning and Discourse, (wherein some men have attained unto almost a miraculous felicitie; as Seneca the elder confesSen. Contr [...]. l [...]b. 1. [...]n [...]. seth of himselfe, who could immediately recite two thousand words, in the same order as they had beene spoken before to him; and Cyrus, of [...]. lib. 7. c. 24. whom Zenophon testifieth, that hee could salute all the Souldiers in his Armie by their Names▪ and Mithridates, who being King over twentieQuintil. lib. 1 [...]. c. 2. two Countreyes▪ did speake so many Languages without an Interpreter; and Politian in his Epi­s [...]les telleth of Fabius Vrsinus, a Child but of aPol [...]. Ep. l. 12. ad [...]ic. Mi­ [...]d. eleven yeeres of age, in whom there was so rare a mixture of Invention and Memorie, that [...]ee could unto five or six severall persons, at the same time, dictate the matter and words of so many severall Epistles, some serious, some jocular, all of different arguments, returning after every short period, from the last to the first, and so in order; and in the conclusion, every Epistle should be so close▪ proper, and coherent within i [...] selfe, as if it alone had beene intended:) As also by affording speciall assistance for the direction and discreet managing of our actions, confor­ming them either unto Precepts and Rules in Moralitie, or unto Principles of Wisdome and publike Prudence▪ gathered from Historicall observations; while the Minde, by the helpe of Memorie, being as it were conversant with Ages past, and furnished with Examples for any service and imployment, doth by mature application, weighing particulars, comparing times, circum­stances, [Page 15] and passages of affaires together, enable it selfe with the more hope and resolution, to passe successefully through any enterprise or dif­ficultie: for qui credit sp [...]rat, hee that beleeveth, and is acquainted with the happie issue of other mens resolutions, will with the lesse anxietie or discouragement goe on in his owne.

The principall Corruptions which I conceive of the Memorie, are first, too much slightnesse and shallownesse of observation; when out of an impatiencie of staying long, or making any pro [...]ound enquirie into one object, and out of a gluttonous curiositie to seed on many, the gree­dinesse of the appetite weakeneth the digestion, (for so some have called the Memorie, the Belly of the Soule) and an eagernesse to take in, makes uncarefull to retaine. And this is the reason, why many men wander over all Arts and Scien­ces, without gaining reall improvement, or soli­ditie in any: They make not any solemne Iour­ney to a particular Coast, and Head of Learning, but view all as it were in Transitu; having no sooner begun to settle on one, but they are in haste to visit another. But such men as these (except endowed with an incredible and usuall felicitie of dispatch) are no more able to finde the use, or search the bottome of any Learning, than he who rides Poast, is to make a descripti­on and Map of his Iourneyes: who, though by much imployment, he may toyle and sweat more in travelling from place to place; yet is hee farre lesse able to discover the nature of the Coun­treyes, [Page 16] temperature of the Aire, Character of the people, Commodities of the Earth, than he, who though not so violent in the motion, is yet more constant in his abode: and though his haste be lesse eager, yet his observations are more serious. Omnis festinatio coeca est, saith Seneca; Precipitancie and unstablenesse, as well in the motions of the Wit as of the Body, dazeleth and disableth the eyes: And it is true in the Minde, as in the Stomack; too quick digestion doth alwayes more distemper than nourish, and breedeth nothing but Crudities in Learning. Nor can I call that so much Studie, as agitation and restlesnesse of the Minde; which is as impa­tient of true setled labour, as it is of quiet. Now, the reason why such a temper of Minde as this, is corruptive to the Memorie, is first, because Memorie is alwayes joyned with some measure of Love; and wee most of all remember that, which wee most respect: Omnia quae [...]urant memi­nerunt; There where the Treasure is, the Minde will be also: There therefore, where our Love is most constant, our Memories will be most faith­full. So, that sudden vanishing, and broken de­sires, which like the appetite of sick men, are for the time violent, but give presently over; as they argue an eager Love for the present, of what weeArill. Rhet. lib. 2. c. 12. pursue, and by consequence, [...] fastidium and dis­esteeme of that which wee soone forsake▪ so doe they necessarily inferre weakenesse on the Me­morie, by how much they make our hopes the stronger. For, as Seneca speakes, Cad [...]ca memoria De Benef. lib. 3 c. 3. [Page 17] futura iminentium; Men strongly bent upon things future, have but weake memories of things past.

Secondly, the body of any one Homogeneall Learning, hath this excellent propertie in it, that all the parts of it doe by a mutuall service relate to, and communicate strength and lustre each to other: so that he who goes through with any Science, doth from every new Branch and Conclusion which he meets with, receive a grea­ter clearenesse and more strong impression of his former degrees of Knowledge. Now then, that man who out of impatiencie of that Restraint, cannot endure to goe through an Art, to search into the Root, to observe the knittings and de­pendencies of the parts amongst themselves, to see by what passages Truth is derived from the Principles, to this or to other Branches; must needs be so much the more forgetfull of what he knowes, by how much he is ignorant of those other parts whereunto it referreth.

Other causes there are of weakenesse in theQui [...]til. lib. 11. c. 2. Memorie; as namely, a distrust, and from thence an unexercise of it. Whereupon Plato telleth us, that the use of Letters, in gathering Adversaria and Collections, is a hinderance to the Memo­rie; because those things which wee have depo­sited to our Desks, wee are the more secure and carelesse to retaine in our Minds. And on the o­ther Extreme, a too great Confidence in it, and thereupon an over-burthening it with multitude of Notions; whereby as it sheds much over, so [Page 18] it is withall indisposed for the readie use of what it retaines; it falling out in a huddle and tumul­tuarie heape of thoughts, as in any other throng, that we can never so easily finde out, or order and dispose what we desire to use▪ but are consounded in our owne store. But I forbeare to insist on these, because I hasten to the higher and more noble part of Man.

CHAP. IV. Of the Fancie: Its offices to the Will and Reason, Uolubilitie of Thoughts, Fictions, Errors, Levi­tie, Fixednesse.

NOw for the Imagination, the dignitie thereof consists, either in the office, or in the latitude of it: Its office, is to be assistant both to the Vnderstanding and the Will; its assistance to the Vnderstanding, is principally in matter of Invention, readily to supply it with varietie of objects whereon to worke, as also to quicken and rayse the Minde with a kind of heat and rapterie proportionable in the inferior part of the Soule, to that which in the superior, Philosophers call Ext [...]sie; whereby it is possessed with such a strong delight in its prope [...] obje [...], as makes the motions thereof to­wards [Page 19] it, to be restlesse and impatient: And of this, is that of the Poet;

Est Deus in nobis agitante ealescimus ipso:
[...]. Ar [...]st. Prob [...]. c. 30.
By Divine Raptures we aspire,
And are inflam'd with noble fire.

The office of the Imagination to the Will, is to quicken, allure, and sharpen its desire towards some convenient object: for it often commeth to passe, that some plausible Fancie doth more prevaile with tender Wills, than a severe and sullen Argument, and hath more powerfull insi­ [...]uations to perswade, than the peremptorinesse of Reason hath to command. And the reason [...]ereof is, because libertie being naturall unto mans Will, that course must needs most of all gaine upon it, which doth offer least force unto its libertie: Which is done rather by an Argu­ment of delight, than of constraint; and best of all, when a rationall and convincing Argument is so sweetned and tempered, to the delight of the hearer, that he shall be content to entertaine Truth, for the very beautie and attire of it; so that you shall not know, whether it were the weight of the Reason that over-rul'd, or the ele­gancie that enticed him. A man can be well pleased, to looke with delight on the picture of his enemie, when it is drawne with a skilfull and curious hand. And therefore, in that great worke of mens conversion unto God, he is said to allure [Page 20] them, and to speake comfortably unto them, to be­seech, Hosea [...]. 14. a Cor. 5. 17. [...]ant. 5. 10, 16. Hag. 2. 7. Rom. 11. 1 [...]. Ephes. 38. 1 Tim. 1. 15. and to perswade them; to set forth Chris [...] to the Soule, as altogether lovely, as the fairest [...] ten thousand, as the desire of the Nations, as th [...] Riches of the World, that men might be inflame [...] to love the beautie of Holinesse. That whic [...] must perswade the Will, must not onely have [...] truth, but a worthinesse in it: in which respect, the Principles of Knowledge are called [...] worthy or honourable speeches: and the Gospe [...] is not onely called [...], a true saying; but [...], a worthy saying; and in that respect▪ fitted for acceptation. It is true of the Will, which Seneca hath observed of Princes; Ap [...] Reges etiam quae prosunt ita tamen [...]t delectent su [...] ­denda sunt: That unto them even things profi­table must be represented with the face rathe [...] of delight than of necessitie; even as Physi­cians, when they minister a very wholesome Potion:

—Prius or as pocula circum
L [...]t. lib. 4. Plut. de edu [...] cal. liberorum.
Contingunt d [...]lci mellis flavoque liquore:
That they their Patients may both please & cure,
With mixed-sweets their pallats they allure.

And hence is that observation, that the first reformers and drawers of men into Civill socie­tie▪ and the practise of Vertue, wrought upon the Will by the ministrie rather of the Fancie, than of rigid Reason; not driving them thereunto by punctuall Arguments, but alluring them by the [Page 21] sweetnesse of Eloquence; not pressing the ne­cessi [...]ie of Moralitie, by naked inserences, but rather secretly instilling it into the Will, that it might at last finde it selfe reformed, and yet hardly perceive how it came to be so. And this was done by those Musicall, Poeticall, and My­thologicall perswasions; whereby men in their discourses, did as it were paint Vertues and Vi­ces; giving unto spirituall things Bodies and Beauties, such as might best affect the Imagina­tion: Yea, God himselfe hath beene pleased to honour this way of setting out higher Notions, in that wee finde some roome in the holy Scrip­tures for Mythologies; as that of the Vine, the Fig-tree, and the Bramble, for Riddles, for Para­bles, Similitudes, and Poeticall Numbers andIudg. 18. 14. 12. Hos. 12. 10. Raptures, whereby heavenly Doctrines are sha­dowed forth, and doe condiscend unto humane frailties. And another reason hereof is, because the desires of men are fixed as well on pleasant as on profitable objects; so that those induce­ments must needs have most Authoritie, which have that happie mixture of [...] & dulce toge­ther; not onely pressing necessitie upon the Vn­derstanding, but pointing as it were and deciphe­ring delight to the Fancie. And this reason Sca­liger S [...]. sub [...]il. 307. 11. gives in his Inquirie, how false Things, such as Plato his Elizium, Homers Fictions, Orph [...]us his Musick, should delight wise men: Propterea quod exuperant vulgares limites veritatis, saith hee; be­cause they are not exacted to the rigor and strict­nesse of Reason, nor grounded on the severitie of [Page 22] Truth, but are (as I may so speake) the Creati­on of the Fancie, having a kind of delightfull libertie in them, wherewith they refresh and doe is it were open and unbind the Thoughts, which otherwise, by a continuall pressure in exacter and more massie reasonings, would easily tyre and despaire.

Concerning the Latitude of this Facultie, it hath there in a double prerogative above others▪ one, in the multiplicitie of Operations; another, in the framing of Objects. To the former of these, I reduce the Thoughts; which, by reason of their quicknesse and volubilitie, and withall, their continuall interchanges and successions, are the most numberlesse operations of the Soule of man: where, by Thoughts, I understand those springings and glances of the heart, grounded on the sudden representation of sundry different objects; for when the Mind begins once to be fixt, and standing, I call that rather Meditation than Thought. This multiplicitie of Thoughts is grounded first upon the abundance of their Objects; and next, upon the quicknesse and activitie of Apprehension; that is the matter, this the forme of those Thoughts which I now speake of. The abundance of Objects is seene in this, that it includes all the varieties of species belonging to other faculties; as that knowledge which the Schooles call Philosophia prima, doth within its owne limits draw in, in some sort, all the severall Objects of particular Sciences. There are Thoughts belonging unto the Will, [Page 23] flying and pursuing Thoughts, Wishings, and Loathings; and there are Thoughts belonging to the Vnderstanding, assenting and dissenting Thoughts, Beleefe and dis-opinion: There are Thoughts likewise proceeding from Anger, firie and revengefull Thoughts; from Envie, knowing and repining Thoughts; from Ioy, sweet and refreshing Thoughts; from Conscience, com­forting and affrightfull Thoughts; and so in all other faculties. And for the quicknesse of Wor­king, the motions of the Thoughts shew it, in the concu [...]rence of these two things, suddennesse of journey, and vastnesse of way; while like Lightning they are able to reach from one end of Heaven unto another, and in one light and imperceptible excursion, leave almost no part of the Vniverse untravelled. Now, of these two grounds of multiplicitie in Thoughts, the for­mer, namely, the abundance of Objects, is ab extrinsec [...], and dispersed over things, (though they are not otherwise the Objects of Thought, than as the Mind reflecteth on the Phan [...]asmata or images of them in this facultie) but the latter, which is the quicknesse of Apprehension, though it may seeme to be the most peculiar worke of Reason, yet the Imagination hath indeed the greatest interest in it: For, though the Act of Apprehending be the proper worke of the Vn­derstanding, yet the forme and qualitie of that Act (which properly makes it a Thought inVid. A. Gell. lib. 9. c. 1. Aug. de Civ. Dei, lib. 9. c. 4. that strict sense, wherein here I take it) namely, the lightnesse, volubilitie, and suddennesse there­of, [Page 24] proceeds from the immediate restlesnesse of the Imagination; as is plaine, by the continuall varietie of Dreames and other Fancies, wherein the Facultie is the principall worker. The next thing, is the Latitude of Imagination, in framing of Objects, wherein it hath a propertie of bold­nesse beyond other faculties: For Reason, and all other powers, have their fixed and determined limits in Nature; and therefore they alwayes frame themselves to the truth of things, yeelding assent to nothing but what they finde: But the Imagination is a Facultie boundlesse, and impa­tient of any imposed limits, save those which it selfe maketh. And hence it is, that in matter of perswasion and insinuation, Poetrie, Mythologie, and Eloquence (the Arts of rationall Fancie) have ever (as was observ'd) beene more forcible than those which have been rigorously grounded on Nature and Reason; it being (as Scaliger ob­serves) the naturall infinitenesse of mans Soule. Aspernari c [...]rtorum sinium praescriptionem, to dis­daine any bounds and confines in her opera­tions.

Now, the libertie of the Imagination in this particular, is three-sold; Creation, as I may so speake, and n [...]w making of Objects; Composi­tion, or new mixing them; and Translation, or new placing them: unto some of which three, will be reduced all Poeticall Fictions, fabulous Transmutations, high Metaphors, and Rhetori­call Allegories; things of excellent use, and or­nament in speech.

[Page 25]Now, for the Corruptions and Diseases of this Facultie, I conceive the principall to beAug. Epist. 72. ad N [...]brid. these three, Error, Levitie, and dull fixednesse: The Error of the Imagination may be taken both actively, and passively; the Error which it produceth, and the Error which it suffereth: That the Fancie is fruitfull in producing Error, is as manifest, as it is difficult to shew the manner how it doth it. Hence, those strange and yet strong delusions, whereby the Mind of melan­choly men (in whom this Facultie hath the most deepe and piercing operation) have beene per­emptorily possessed: Hence, those vanishing and sh [...]dowie Assurances, Hopes, Feares, Ioyes, Visi­ons, which the Dreames of men (the immediate issues of this Facultie) doe produce: Hence those gastly Apparitions, dreadfull Sounds, blacke Thoughts, Tremblings, and Horrors, which the strong working of Imagination doth present unto, or produce in men; disquieted ei­ther with the uglinesse of their Sinnes, or heavi­nesse of their Natures, making them to feare, where no feare is: which, whether it be done by affecting onely the Fancie, or by the impression of such formes and shapes upon the Spirits, which goe unto the outward senses, as may there­by affect them with the same Images (not by re­ception from without, but by impression and transfusion from within) it is manifest, not onely by various relations, but by continuall experi­ence, what strong and strange effects those di­stempers have produced.

[Page 26]Neither are wee to conceive this impossible when we see as admirable effects in another kindA [...]l [...] rob. Sect. 10. [...]. 12, [...]. [...]b. 7. c. 1 [...]. wrought by the same facultie, and, as is probable, by the same meanes; I meane, the impression o [...] likelinesse of an Infant in the Wombe, unto the Parents, or some other, who shall worke a stronger conceit in the Fancie: Or if this be not ascribed [...] d [...] [...]. co [...]a. unto the working of this power, but rather to a secret reall vertue intrinsecall unto the Seed of the Parents (as many doe affirme) yet that other effect of stamping on the Body the Images and Colours of some things, which had made any strong and violent immutation on the Fancie, must needs be hereunto ascribed, As wee see commeth often to passe, in the longing of Wo­men; and in her, who having the picture of an Ethioplan in her Chamber, brought forth a blackAug. in Gen. [...] 93. Child; and in the course which Iacob tooke, [...] putting speckled Rods before the Cattell, when they were to conceive, that the sancie of them might make their Lambes to be ring-straked and speckled.

The Errors which are in the Fancie, are usu­allyVid. [...], [...]n [...]. E [...]th. l [...]b. 7. c. 5. & w [...]tn. de P [...] ▪ Q. g. D [...]m. l. 2. c. 24, 25, 26. & l. 3. [...]. 21. of the same nature with those that are wrought by it: Such was the Error of that man, which would not be perswaded, but that he had on his head a great paire of Hornes, and for that reason would not moove sorth nor uncover his face to any. And the causes of these Errors areFran. Mi [...]nd. [...]. de I [...]g. c. 8. Aug. de Civ. De [...], [...] 18. c. 18 de divi [...]. Dae­mon. c. 5, 6. by Francis Mirandula ascribed first to the varietie of tempers in the Body, with the predominancie of those humours which give complexion there­unto: [Page 27] secondly, to the imposture of the Senses: thirdly, to the government of the Will, (though that, as is granted, hath least power over this Fa­cultie) and lastly, to the ministry of evill Angels, who can easily cast into the Fancie strange and false species, with such subtletie, as shall easily gaine them plausible credit and admittance. And of this, we finde an expresse example (as I conceive) in that evill spirit▪ who promised to be a lying spirit in the mouth of Ahabs Prophets. For the vision: of such men being for the most part imaginarie, the impression of that lying and deceitfull perswasion was, in all probabilitie, made upon the Imagination. For, notwithstan­ding I confesse, that Prophets had events by divers meanes revealed unto them, as by true Voices, by reall accesse of Angels, and by imme­diate illapse of Truth into the Vnderstanding; yet because those two wayes, by Visions and byNumb. 12. 6. Ioel [...]. 28. Dreames, were (for ought can be observ'd) the most usuall meanes of Revelation; it is not un­likely, that the Devil (who in such things strives, for the better advancement of his owne ends, to imitate Gods manner of working) did by this manner of imposture on the Imagination, seeke to possesse the false Prophets, and to delude the King.

And here, by the way from the three former, we may take occasion to observe the miserie of mans corrupted Nature; wherein those Faculties which were originally ordained for mutuall as­sistance, doe now exercise a mutuall imposture: [Page 28] and as man did joyne with a fellow-creature to dishonour, and if it had been possible, to deceive his Maker; so in the Faculties of man, we may discover a joynt conspiracie in the working of their owne overthrow and reproach, and a secret joy, in one to be deluded by another.

The next Corruption which I observed, is the Levitie and too much Volubilitie of this Power, proceeding from the over-hastie obtrusion of the species. For, notwithstanding I grant the quick­nesse of its operations to be one principall part of the excellencie thereof; yet I thereby under­stand the Power, not the Infirmitie; the Nature, not the Disease of that Facultie; the abilitie of having speedie recourse unto varietie of Objects, treasured up in the Memorie; or of apprehending new, with dexteritie; not that floating and in­constant humour, whereby it makes many need­lesse excursions upon impertinent things, and thereby interrupteth the course of the more needfull and present operations of the Soule. For, since it may fall out, that unto the same Facultie, from diversitie of occasions, contrarie operations may proove arguments of worth; a restraint unto one manner of working, is an argument of weaknesse and defect, in that it straitneth and defraudeth the power of those ad­vantages which it might receive, by a timely application of the other: There may be a time, when the Fancie may have libertie to ex­patiate; but againe, some objects will require a more fixed and permanent act. And therefore, [Page 29] to have a vanishing and lightning Fancie, that knoweth not how to stay and fasten upon any particular, but as an Hanging of divers Co­lours, shall in one view present unto the Vnder­standing an heape of species, and so distract its intention; argues not sufficiencie, but weaknesse and distemper in this Facultie.

The last Corruption observed, is in the otherArist. Pro [...]. Sect. 29. extreame; I meane, that heavinesse and sluggish fixednesse, whereby it is disabled from being ser­viceable to the Vnderstanding, in those actions which require dispatch, varietie, and suddennesse of execution: from which peremptorie adhesion and too violent intension of the Fancie on some particular objects, doth many times arise not onely a dulnesse of Mind, a Syncope, and kind of benumnednesse of the Soule, but oftentimes madnesse, distraction, and torment: Many ex­amplesLu [...]ian. in [...]u­ciosive Asin [...]. Apul. in Asin [...]. [...] lin. lib. 7. c▪ 2 [...]. Ola [...]. Magnus de Region. [...]. l. 18. c▪ 45▪ 46, 47. [...] de [...] [...]. l. 3. c. 21. [...] [...] ad littus [...] [...] [...] [...] [...], credidit ap [...]d [...]. of which kind of depravation of the Phantasie in melancholy men, wee every where meet withall; some, thinking themselves turned into Wolves, Horses, or other Beasts; others, pleasing themselves with Conceits of great Wealth and Principalities; some, framing to themselves Feares, and other Hopes; being all but the delusions and waking Dreames of a di­st [...]mpered Fancie.

His ego saepè Lupum fieri & se condere Sylvis
Virg. Eclog. 8.
Moerim, saepè animas imis exire sepul [...]ris,
Atque salas alio vidi traducere messes:
[Page 30]Here o [...]en I have seene this Moeris worke
Himselfe into a Wolfe, and into Woods lurke;
O [...] have I seene him raise up ghosts from Hell,
And growing Corne translate by Magick Spell.

And upon this over-strong working and stay of the Fancie on some one or other object, it hath of [...]entimes come to passe, that some men, out of depth of contemplation on some diffi­culties of Learning, (as is reported of Aristotle, in his meditation on the cause of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea) others, out of some strong and predominant passion, as Love, Feare, Despaire, drawing all the intention of the Mind unto them, have attempted such strange practi­ses on themselves, and others, as could not proceed but from a smothered and intangled Reason. And thus much briefely shall suffice, touching the honour of mans common and in­feriour Faculties.

CHAP. V. Of Passions, their nature, and distri­bution; of the Motions of Naturall Crea­tures, guided by a knowledge without them; and of Rationall Croatures, guided by a knowledge within them: of Passions Men­tall, Sensitive, and Rationall.

INow proceed unto the Soule of Man: of which, I must speake in a double reference; either accor­ding to its motions and impres­sions which it makes on the Bo­dy, and receiveth from it; or according to those more immanent perfections which it hath within it selfe: under the former of these, come to be considered the Passions of Mans Minde, with the more notable perfections and corruptions (as farre as my weakenesse can discover) which the Soule and Body contracted from them.

Passions are nothing else, but those naturall, perfective, and unstrained motions of the Crea­tures unto that advancement of their Natures, which they are by the Wisdome, Power, and Providence of their Creator, in their owne seve­rall Spheares, and according to the proportion of their Capacities, ordained to receive, by a regu­lar inclination to those objects, whose goodnesse [Page 32] beareth a naturall conveniencie or vertu [...] of sa­tisfaction unto them; or by an antipathie and aversation from those, which bearing a contrari­etie to the good they desire, must needs be noxi­ous and destructive, and by consequent, odious to their natures. This being the prop [...]rtie of all unconstrained selfe▪ motions, it followeth, that the root and ground of all Passions, is princi­pally the good; and secondarily, or by conse­quent, the evill of things: as one beareth with it rationem convenientiae, a quieting and satisfacto rie; the other, rationem disconvenienti [...], a distur­bing and destroying nature.

This being premised touching the nature and generall essence of Passions, the division of them must be then grounded; because (as Philosophie teacheth us) Faculties and Operations receive their essentiall distinctions from their objects, and those severall respects wherewith they in order to the Facultie are qualified. Now, since all appetite (being a blind Power) is dependant upon the direction of some Knowledge; from the diversitie of Knowledge in, or annexed unto things, may be gathered the prime distinction of Passions.

Knowledge, in respect of created Agents, may be considered, either as dis-joyn'd, and extrinse­call to the things moved, or [...] intrinsecall and united thereunto; both which serve as a Law and Rule, to regulate the inclinations of each nature, that they might not swerve into disorde­red and confused, or into idle and vaine motions, [Page 33] [...]ut might ever worke towards that fixed end, which God hath appointed them to moove [...]nto.

Passions which proceed from Knowledge se­vered and extrinsecall, are those motions of meerely naturall Agents; which are guided to their generall or particular ends, by the Wis­dome and Power of Him that made them. And this it is which causeth that peremptorie and uniforme order, observed by these kind of Agents in their naturall course, never either swarving or desisting there-from, so farre as the condition of the matter and subject whereon they worke per­mitteth them; because they are all governed by an immutable, most wise, and most constant Law, proceeding from a Will with which there is no variablenesse nor shadow of changing. And therefore we finde those aberrations and irregu­larities of Nature, wherein it swerveth from this Law onely, or at least principally in these infe­riour things; wherein partly from the deficiencie and languishing of secondarie Agents, and part­ly from the excesses, defects, mutabilitie, and the like exigences of matter, wee finde sundry times error and enormitie in their severall workes and ends: Which, whether it be to set forth the beautie of regular operations (which by defor­mitie and confusion will appeare more beauti­full; or whether the originall thereof be divine mal [...]diction, which for the sinne of man hee pleaseth to lay upon his fellow creatures, which were all created for his comfort and service, [Page 34] (which Saint Paul calleth the vanitie of the Crea­ture) it proceedeth certainely from the Will an [...] Power of that Law-giver, who is onely able, s [...] Reasons best knowne to his owne Wisdome, t [...] dispense sometimes with that otherwise unalte­rable Law, which he gave all his creatures to ob­serve: So that all the Miracles which ever God hath beene pleased to worke, for the conversion of men unto the Faith, or confirmation in it, were but so many exceptions and dispensations from that generall Law.

But, as I said, those irregularities and devia­tions before spoken of, are seene principally in inferiour things. The Earth, being the princi­pall Creature that did beare the Curse of Man [...] Fall, which made (if wee will beleeve that rela­tion, though I rather suppose it to be fictitious) the Heathen Philosopher, upon observation o [...] that wonderfull Eclipse of the Sunne at the Pas­sion of our Saviour, to crie out, Aut Deus Natur [...] patitur, aut Mundi machina dissolvetur; either the God of Nature suffereth, or the Frame of Na­ture dissolveth: Either something hindereth that universall Power, which sustaineth and ani­mateth all the Creatures, or he doth at least wil­lingly detaine that vertue and the vigour of that Law; without execution whereof, there cannot but follow a laxation of the whole Frame: which particular I have the rather observ'd, to note, that the more raysed and heavenly a Nature is, the more stable and constant likewise it is, to every Divine Law imposed on it.

[Page 35]Now, this naturall Passion which I speake of, is called by sundry Names amongst Philosophers, the Law, the Equitie, the Weight, the Instinct, the Bond, the Love, the Covenant and League of natu­rall things in order, to the conservation of them­selves, propagation of their kind, perfection, and order of the Vniverse, service of Man, and glory of the Creator; which are the alone ends of all naturall Agents.

By all which we are given to understand, that when at any time the ordinarie course of Nature is intermitted, when any creature forsakes its na­tive motion, and falleth into confusion and dis­order, there is then admitted a breach of a Law; or, as Aristotle calls it, [...], an error, (which Saint Iames telleth us, is [...], an iniquitie of Nature) also a certaine levitie, unusefulnesse, and empti­nesse of true worth, which I call in Saint Pauls phrase, the vanitie of the Creature: thirdly, loose­nesse, decay, and dissolution; and thereupon, dis­cord and unserviceablenesse towards the other parts, with which it should jointly conspire for the glory of the whole.

These are the inconveniences that follow Na­tures; how much greater are those, which follow Reasons disobedience: for all this, touching the Passions of Nature, I have observed onely to give light unto those of Reason, there being the same proportion of government in them all; saving that, what in things destitute of all knowledge, is guided by the Law-giver himselfe, is in the rest performed by a knowledge conjoyn'd, and in­trinsecall [Page 36] to the Worker▪ and this is either Men­tall, or Sensitive, or Rationall▪ from all which, arise sundry degrees of Motions, or Passions: Mentall Passions, are those high, pure, and ab­stracted delights, or other the like agitations of the supreme part of the Vnderstanding, which Aristotle calleth [...], the Latines, Mens, or Apex ani­mi; which are the most simple actions of the Mind, wherein is the least intermixtion or com­merce with inferior and earthy saculties. Which Motions are grounded first on an extraordinarie Knowledge, either of Vision and Revelation, or of an exquisite naturall Apprehension▪ both which are beyond the compasse of usuall Industrie, here to attaine unto: The former of these, I call with the Schoole-men, Extasie and Rapture; such as Saint Pauls was (for so himselfe calleth it) Novi homi­nem 2 Cor. 12. 2. raptum; and such as was the Passions of the Mind, in the Prophets and holy men of God; when they were inspired with such heavenly Re­velations, as did slide into the Soule with that lustre and abundance of Light, that they could not but ravish it with ineffable and glorious de­light. And such, no doubt, is that joy unspeakable, and Peace past understanding, which the Apostle makes to be the fruits of the Spirit of God, in those hearts wherein he lodgeth; whereby the purest and most abstracted part of the Soule, the Mind, is lifted up to some glimpses and apprehensions of that future Glory, which in Heaven doth fill the spirits of men with ineffable Light.

And for the later Branch, Aristotle hath placed [Page 37] his greatest felicitie in the contemplation of the highest and divinest Truths; which he makes to be the object of that supreme part of the Soule. And it was the speech of the Philosopher He­racl [...]tus to the same purpose, that Animae sicca est Plutarch, de o [...], a [...]llu, & de Esu ca [...] ­nium, Orat. 1. Ar [...]. Problem. §. 30. qu. 1. sapientissima, (which toucheth something upon that of Aristotle, That Melancholy complexions are usually the wisest, for that Temper is the dry­est of all the rest) That a Mind not steeped in the humours of carnall and grosse affections, nor drench'd in the waves of a disquiet Fancie, but more raysed and soaring to its originally, by di­vine contemplations, is alwayes endued with the greater wisdome.

Another Knowledge from whence the Passions of this Facultie are raysed in Man, is that light of Naturall Principles, which the Schooles callAquin. part. 1. qu. [...]9. art. 12. Synteresis; unto which, the custodie of all practi­call Truths being committed, they there-hence worke in the Conscience motions of Ioy, Love, Peace, Feare, Horror, Despaire, and the like spi­rituall Passions, according as the Soule, out of those generall Principles, shall gather unto its owne particulars, any either delightfull or dis­quieting Conclusions.

Sensitive Passions, are those motions of prose­cutionArist. de Hist. Animal. lib. 1. ca [...]. 1. l. 9. p [...]r [...]otum Diogen. L [...]rt. lib. 7. in Zenon. or flight, which are grounded on the Fan­cie, Mentorie, and Apprehensions of the common Sense: which we see in brute beasts; as, in the feare of Hares or Sheepe, the fiercenesse of Wolves, the anger or slatterie of Dogs, and the like: So Homer describeth the joy of Vlysses his [Page 38] Dog, which after his so long absence, remembred him at his returne.

[...].
Odyss. s.
For wanton joy to see his Master neare,
He wav'd his flattering tayle, and toss'd each eare.

Now these motions in brute creatures, if we will beleeve Seneca, are not affections, but certaine cha­ractersSer. de I [...], [...]ib. 1. c. 3. and impressions ad similitudinem passionum▪ like unto Passions in men▪ which he calleth Im­petus, the risings, forces, and impulsions of Nature, upon the view of such objects as are apt to strike any impressions upon it.

I come therefore to those middle Passions, which I call'd Rationall; not formally, as if they were in themselves Acts of Reason, or barely imma­teriallVid. Aristot. [...]ic. l. 2. [...]. 6. Mag. M [...]r. l. 1. [...]. 7. motions of the Soule; but by way of participation and dependance, by reason of their immediate subordination in man unto the go­vernmentEadem, l, 2. c. 2. & Ethic. lib. 6. cap. 3. of the Will and Vnderstanding, and not barely of the Fancie, as in other creatures. And for calling Passion thus govern'd, Reasonable, I have the warrant of Aristotle: who, though the sensitive Appetite in man be of it selfe un­reasonable, (and therefore by him contradivided to the Rationall powers of the Soule) yet by [...]. l. 1. c. 10. reason of that obedience which it oweth to the Dictates of the Vnderstanding, whereunto Na­tureAquin. part. 1. q. 81. art. 3. hath ordain'd it to be subject and confor­mable (though Corruption have much slackned [Page 39] and unknit that Bond) hee justly affirmeth it to be in some sort a Reasonable Facultie, not intrinsecally in it selfe, but by way of participation and influence from Reason.

Now Passion thus considered, is divided ac­cording to the severall references it hath unto its object; which is principally, the Good; and secondarily, the Evill of things; and either con­sidered after a sundry manner: for they may be taken either barely and alone, or under the con­sideration of some difficultie and danger accom­panying them. And both these againe are to be determin'd with some particular condition of union or distance to the subject; for all objects offend or delight the Facultie, in vertue of their union thereunto; and therefore, according as things are united or distant, so doe they occasion Passions of a different nature in the Mind. The object then may be considered simply in its owne nature, as it precisely abstracteth from all other circumstances, including onely the natu­rall conveniencie or disconveniencie which it beareth to the Facultie: and so the Passions are, in respect of Good, Love; in respect of Evill, Hatred▪ which are the two radicall, fundamen­tall, and most transcendent Passions of all the rest; and therefore well called Pondera and Im­petus animi, the weight and force, and (as I may so speake) the first springings and out goings of the Soule. Secondly, the object may be consi­dered, as absent from the subject, in regard of reall union (though never without that which [Page 40] the Schooles call vnio objectiva, union of Ap­prehension in the Vnderstanding) without which there can be no Passion: and the object thus con­sidered, worketh, if it be Good, Desire; if Evill, [...]light, and Abomination. Thirdly, it may be considered as present, by a reall contract or union with the Facultie; and so it worketh, if Good, Delight, and Pleasure; if Evill, Griefe and Sor­row. Againe, as the object beareth with it the circumstances of difficultie and danger, it may be considered, either as exceeding the naturall strength of the power; which implyeth, in re­spect of Good, an Impossibilitie to be attained, and so it worketh Despaire; and in respect of Evill, an Improbabilitie of being avoided, and so it worketh Feare: or secondly, as not excee­ding the strength of the power, or at least, those aides which it calleth in; in which regard, Good is presented as Attainable, and so it wor­keth Hope; and Evill is presented, either as Avoidable, if it be future, and it worketh Bold­nesse to breake through it; or as Requitable, if it be past, and so it worketh Anger, to revenge it. Thus have wee the nature and distribution of those severall Passions which wee are to en­quire after; of all which, or at least, those which are most naturall, and least coincident with one another, I shall in the proceeding of my Discourse, observe some things, wherein they conduce to the honour and prejudice of Mans Nature: But first, I shall speake some­thing of the generalitie of Passions; and what [Page 41] dignities are therein most notable, and the most notable defects.

CHAP. VI. Of Humane Passions in generall: their use, Naturall, Morall, Civill: their subor­dination unto, or rebellion against right Reason.

NOW Passions may be the subject of a three-fold discourse; Naturall, Morall, and Civill. In their Naturall conside­ration, we should observe in them, their essentiall Properties, their Ebbes and Flowes, their Springings and Decayes, the manner of their severall Impressions, the Physicall Effects which are wrought by them, and the like.

In their Morall consideration, we might like­wise search, how the indifferencie of them is al­tered into Good or Evill, by vertue of the Domi­nion of right Reason, or of the violence of their owne motions; what their Ministry is in Vertu­ous, and what their Power and Independance in Irregular actions; how they are raysed, suppres­sed, slackned, and govern'd, according to the par­ticular nature of those things, which require their motion.

In their Civill respects, we should also observe how they may be severally wrought upon and [Page 42] impressed; and how, and on what occasions, it is fit to gather and fortifie, or to slack and remit them; how to discover, or suppresse, or nourish, o [...] alter, or mix them, as may be most advantagious; what use may be made of each mans particular Age, Nature, P [...]opension; how to advance and promote our just ends, upon the observation of the Character and dispositions of these, whom we are to deale withall.

And this Civill use of Passion, is copiously handled in a learned and excellent discourse of Aristotle, in the second Booke of his Rhetoricks; unto which profession, in this respect, it properly belongeth: because in matter of Action, and of I [...]dicature, Affection in some sort is an Auditor, or Iudge, as he speakes. But it seemeth strange, that a man of so vast sufficiencie and judgement; and who had, as we may well conjecture, an Ambition to knit every Science into an entire Body, which in other mens Labours lay broken and seattered; should yet in his Bookes De Animâ over-passe the discoverie of their Nature, Essence, Operati­o [...] a [...]d Properties; and in his Bookes of Morall Philosophie, should not remember to acquaint us with the Indifferencie, Irregularitie, Subordi­nation▪ Rebellion, Conspiracie, Discords, Cau­ses, Effects; consequences of each particular of them, being circumstances of obvious and dayly use in our Life, and of necessarie and singular be­nefit, to give light unto the government of right Reason.

Touching Passions in order unto Civill or Iu­diciarie [Page 43] affaires, I shal not make any observation; either of the other, I shall in part touch upon, though not distinctly and asunder, but in a briefe and confused collection of some few particu­lars.

The Order which I shall observe, in setting downe the Honour and Corruption of them in Generall (which Method shall in part be kept in their Particulars) shall be this; first, according to the Antecedents of their Motion and Acts; se­condly, according to the Acts themselves; and thirdly, according to the Consequents of them.

First, touching the Antecedents to the Act of Passion, they are either the Outward Motives there­unto, as namely, the Objects, unto which it is car­ryed; and the Causes, whereby it is produced: or the Inward Root and Principles of the Act, whereby it is wrought and governed.

For the two former, Passion is then sayd com­mendable, when it is direct and naturall. And the Corruption is, when it is carryed to an undue Object, or proceedeth from an indirect Cause: but these are more observable in the particulars, and therefore thither I referre their distinct hand­ling.

For the third, the Dignitie of Passion chiefely consists in a Consonancie and Obedience to the Pre­scription of Reason: for there is in mans Faculties a naturall subordination, whereby the actions of the inferior receive their motion and direction from the influence of the higher. Now Appetite was in Beasts onely made to be governed by a sen­sitive [Page 44] Knowledge: But in Man, Sense ought not t [...] have any commanding or moving Power, but onely Instrumentall, Ministeriall, and Conveying, in re­spect of the Object. The Action of Sense, was no [...] from the first Institution, ordain'd to touch the Affection, but to present it selfe primarily to the Vnderstanding; upon whose determination and conduct, the Passions were to depend, to submit all [...] ▪ Theador. ser. [...]. denatur. Hom. their inclinations thereunto, and to be its Mini­sters, in the execution of all such Duties, as it should deeme any way expedient for the benefit of Mans Nature: so that herein consists a great part of Mans infelicitie, by the Fall; that albeit his Vnderstanding it selfe be blinded, and there­fore not able to reach forth any perfect Good to the inferiour parts; yet that small portion of Light, which it yet retaineth for the government of our Actions, is become uneffectuall, as being able onely to convince, but not to reforme.

The Corruption then of Passion in this respect, is the independance thereof upon its true Principle: when it stayeth not to looke for, but anticipates and prevents the Discourses of Reason; relying onely on the judgement of Sense, wherewith it re­taines an undue correspondence. So that herein is mainly verified that complaint of the Prophet; [...]sal. 49. [...] Man, being in Honour, hath no understanding, and is become as the [...], &c. Clem. Alex. Stro [...]. l. 4. [...] in [...] ▪ & Ta [...] ▪ orat. ad Grat. Libic. l. 1. c. [...]3. Beasts that perish. For, as in the Body, (to use the similitude of Aristotle) if any parts thereof be out of joint, it cannot yeeld obedience unto the government of the Motive Facultie; but when it would carry it one way, it falls ano­ther: [Page 45] So it is in the Mind of Man, when that Na­turall continuitie and Vnion of Faculties, whereby one was made in operation dependant on another,Vid. Plutarch. lib. devir [...]ute Morali. is once dissolved; when Affections are dis-joynted from Reason, and cast off the reines whereby they should be guided, there cannot be that sweet har­monie in the motion thereof, which is required to the weale of Mans Nature.

It is prodigious to see an Instrument (such as all Appetite should be) to be the first and selfe-mover in its owne actions; whence cannot in the Mind of Man but follow great danger: it being all one, as if a Waggoner should commit himselfe to the wild and unswayed fancie of his Horses; or, as if a blind man, who hath not the power of directing his owne feet, should be permitted to run head­long, without wit or moderation, having no Guide to direct him. For as Fire (though it be of all other creatures, one of the most comfortable and usefull, while it abides in the place ordained for it;) yet, when it once exceeds those limits, and gets to the house-top, it is most mercilesse and over-running: So Passion (though of excellent service in Man, for the heating and enlivening of Vertue, for adding spirit and edge to all good un­dertakings, and blessing them with an happier issue, than they could alone have attained unto) yet if once they flye out beyond their bounds, and become subject onely to their owne Lawes, and encroach upon Reasons right, there is no­thing more tumultuous and tyrannicall. As Bias said of the Tongue, that it was the best and thePlutarch. de Audit. [Page 46] worst part of the Sacrifice, so may we of the Af­fections; Nec meliores unquam Servos nec Dominos sent it Natura [...]eteriores; They are the best Ser­vants, but the worst Masters, which our Nature can have. Like the Winds, which being mode­rate, carry the Ship; but drowne it, being tem­pestuous. And it is true as well in Mans little Common-wealth, as in greater States, That there are no more pestilent and pernicious disturbers of the Publique Good, than those who are best qua­lified for service and imployment; if once they grow turbulent and mutinous, neglecting the common end, for their owne private respects, and desirous to rayse themselves upon publique Ru­ines. And indeed it is universally true, Things most usefull and excellent in their Regularitie, are most dangerous in their Abuse.

CHAP. VII. Of the Exercise of Passion: of Stoicall Apa­thie: of Permanencie, Defect, Excesse, with the Cure thereof.

THe next consideration of Passions, was according to the Exercise of their Act: which we may consider, either according to the generall Substance, or according to some particular Accidents, in the man­ner of its being. For the first, it is altogether [Page 47] Good, as being nothing else but naturall motion, ordained for the perfection or conservation of the Creature. For, notwithstanding naturall Mo­tion may haply argue some kind of imperfection in the state of the thing moving; as supposing it some way deprived of that, wherein it should rest it selfe (which makes Aristotle conclude, that the noblest Act of the Vnderstanding, Knowledge and cleare Vision, is rather the Intellectio qui [...]s intel­lectu [...]. Arist. Phy [...]it. l. 7. c. 4. [...]bic. l. 10. c. 7. [...] ▪ &c. Rest, than the Motion of that Facultie) yet I say, it alwayes implyeth more naturall Perfection in those things where­unto it belongeth: for as Fire, the perfectest of Elements; and Heaven, the perfectest of Bodies;Clem. Alex. Stro [...]. lib. 4. [...] Arist. Problem. §. 30. qu. 14. so the Soule of Man, the perfectest of formes, hath the most vehement motion.

And in this consideration (so it be alwayes Motion Naturall, governed and dependant on right Reason) I find not any Corruption, though I find an Error and abuse; that I meane, which maketh Passion in generall to be Aegritudo Animi, a Sick­nesseAni [...] commo­ [...]lo aversa [...] recta Ratione, & contra Na­turam, Cit. [...]. [...]. ap [...]d La­cr [...]ium. and Perturbation, and would therefore re­duce the Mind to a senselesse Apathie, condem­ning all Life of Passion, as Waves, which serve onely to tosse and trouble Reason. An Opinion, which, while it goeth about to give unto Man an absolute government over himselfe, leaveth scarce any thing in him, which he may command and governe.

For, although there be in the Will over the Body an Imperium; yet in rigour, this is not so much to be tearmed Command, as Imployment; the Body being rather the Instrument, than the Servant of [Page 48] the Soule, and the power which the Will hath over it, is not so much the command of a Master over his Workmen, as of the Workman over his Tooles: The chiefe subjects to the Will, are the Affections, in the right governing whereof, is ma­nifested its greatest power.

The strength of every thing, is exercised by Opposition: We see not the violence of a River, till it meet with a Bridge; and the force of the Wind sheweth it selfe most, when it is most re­sisted: So the power of the Will is most seene, in repairing the breaches, and setling the mutinies, wherewith untamed Affections disquiet the peace of mans nature; since excesse and disorder in things otherwise of so great use, requireth amendment, not extirpation; and we make straight a crooked thing, we doe not breake it. And therefore, as he in Tacitus spake well to Otho, when he was aboutHist. lib. 2. to kill himselfe, Majore animo t [...]lerari adversaquam relinqui; That it was more valour to beare, than put off afflictions with courage: so there is more honour, in the having Affections subdued, than in having none at all; the businesse of a wise man, is not to be without them, but to be above them. And therefore our Heb. 2. 17. Heb. 4. 15. 5. 2. Mark. 10. 21. Luk. 10. 21. Io [...]. 11. 35. Luk. 22. 15. Mark. 3. 5. Mat. 26, 37, 38. Saviour himselfe sometimes loved, sometimes rejoyced, sometimes wept, some­times desired, sometimes mourned and grieved; but these were not Passions that violently and im­moderately troubled him; but he, as he saw fit, did with them trouble himselfe. His Reason excited, di­rected, moderated, repressed them, according to the rule of perfect, cleare, and undisturbed judgement. [Page 49] In which respect, the Passions of Christ are by Di­vinesHieron. in Math. 26. Magist. Sent. lib. 3. dist. 15. Aquin. part. 3. q. 15. art. 4. called rather Propassions, that is to say, Begin­nings of Passions, than Passions themselves; in as much as they never proceeded beyond their due measure, nor transported the Mind to undecencie or excesse; but had both their rising and originall from Reason, and also their measure, bounds, con­tinuance limited by Reason. The Passions of sin­full men are many times like the tossings of the Sea, which bringeth up mire and durt; but theIsa. 57. 20. Passions of Christ were like the shaking of pure Water in a cleane Vessell, which though it be thereby troubled, yet is it not fouled at all.

The Stoicks themselves confessed, that wise men might be affected with Lactant. l. 6. c. 14. Aug. de Clv. Dei, l. 9. c. 4. l. 14. c. 9: Aul. Gell. l. 19. c. 1. Cic. Tusc. qu. lib. 4. Sen. [...]p. 85. & de Ira. l. 2. c: 3. sudden perturbations of Feare or Sorrow, but did not like weak men yeeld unto them, nor sinke under them; but were still unshaken in their resolutions and judgements, like Aeneas in Virgil:

Mens immotaman [...]t, lacryma volvuntur inanes.
He wept indeed, but in his stable mind
You could no shakings or distempers find.

Aquin. 12. q. 24. art. 2, 3. Cic. de sin. l. 4. And therefore indeed, this Controversie be­tweene the Peripateticks and Stoicks, was rather a strife of Words, than a difference of Iudgements, because they did not agree in the Subject of the Question; the one, making Passions to be Naturall; the other, [...] Clem. Alex. Strom. lib. 2. & vid. in P [...]g. lib. 2. cap. 13. Vid. Sen. [...]p. 57, 85. & 116. Diog. Laert. in Zenon. l. 7. Praeternaturall, and disorderly motions. For the Peripateticks confessed, That wise men ought to be fix'd & immovable in their vertuous resolutions, and not to be at all by hopes or feares [Page 50] Carist. Ethic. lib. [...]. cap. 1. deterred or diverted from them: but as a Dye, to be [...]. Ethic. l. 1. c. 10. & Cl [...]. Alex. Strom. lib. 6. foure-square; and which way ever they be cast, to fall upon a sure & firme bottome. Which is the same with that severe and unmovable con­stancie of Mind in Vertue, in defence whereof the Stoicks banished Affections from wise men: not in­tending thereby to make men like Plutarch. contr. Stolc [...]t. Caeneus in the Poet, such as could not be violated with any sorce, (for they acknowledge subjection to the first mo­tions of Passion) but onely to shew, that they wis­dome of Vertue should so compose & consolidate the Mind, and settle it in such stabilitie, that it should not all be bended from the Right, by any sensitive perturbations or impulsions. As they then who pull down houses adjoyning unto Tem­ples, Plutarch. lib. d [...] vi [...]loso p [...]dort. doe yet suffer that part of them to stand still, which are continued to the Temple: so in the de­molishing of inordinate Passions, we must take heed, that we offer not violence to so much of them, as is contiguous unto Right Reason; where­unto so long as they are conformable, they are the most vigorous instruments, both for the expressi­on, and improvement, and derivation of Vertue on others, of any in Mans Nature.

Now concerning the Accidents or manner of these Acts which are from Passion, it may be considered either in regard of the Quantitie & Extension, or of the Qualitie & Intention of the Act. And both these may be considered two manner of wayes: for the Quantitie of Passions, we may consider that, as the Quantitie of Bodies, which is either Continued or Severed; by Quantitie Continued, I understand the [Page 51] manner of a Passions permanencie and durance▪ by Se­vered, I meane the manner of its multiplicitie and reiteration; from both which, it hath the denomi­nation of good or bad, as the object whereunto it is carryed, hath a greater or lesse relation to the Fa­cultie. For some objects are simply, and without any limitation, convenient or noxious; and towards these, may be allowed both a more durable and a more multiplyed Passion: others are good or evill on­ly, with some circumstances of Time, Place, Person, Oc­casion, or the like; which therfore require both fewer and lesse habituall motions. The same maybe said of the Qualitie of them; wherein they are sometimes too remisse, sometimes againe too excessive and ex­orbitant, according to varietie of conditions.

Concerning all these, I shall observe this one generall Rule; the permanencie or vanishing, the mul­tiplicitie or rarenesse, the excesse or defect of any Pas­sion, is to be grounded on and regulated by the na­ture only of its object, as it beares reference to such or such a person; but never by the private humour, prejudice, complexion, habit, custome, or other like qua­lifications of the Mind it selfe. To see a man of a soft and gentle nature over-passe some small indignitie, without notice or feeling; or to see a man of an hot and eager temper transported with an extreamer and more during Passion, upon the sense of some greater injurie, more notably touching him in his honestie or good Name; is not in either of these, any great matter of commendation: because, though the nature of the object did in both warrant the qualitie of the Passion; yet in those persons they both procee­ded [Page 52] out of humour and complexion, and not out of serious consideration of the injuries themselves, by which onely the Passion is to be regulated.

Of these two extreames, the defect is not so com­monly seene, as that which is in the excesse: And therefore we wil here a little observe, what course may be taken for the allaying of this vehemencie of our Affections, whereby they disturbe the quiet, and darken the serenitie of mans Mind. And this is done, either by opposing contrary Passions to contrary; [...]ble. l. 2. c. 9. lib. 10. c. 1. which is Aristotles rule, who adviseth, in the bring­ing of Passions from an extreame to a mediocritie, to incline & bend them towards the other extreame, as Husbandmen use to doe those Trees which are crooked; or as dim and weak eyes doe see the light best, when it is broken in a shadow: or else it is done, by scattering and distracting of them; and that not onely by the power of Reason, but sometimes also by a cautelous admixture of Passions amongst themselves, thereby interrupting their free cur­rent: For, as usually the Affections of the Mind are bred one of another, (as the Powder in the Pan of a Gun will quickly set on fire that in the Barrell) as Greefe by Anger, (Circumspexit [...] cum [...] â con­dolescens, Mar [...]. 3 3. He looked on them with Anger, being grieved) and Feare by Love;

Res est, solliciti, plena Timori [...], Amor:
The things to which our heart Love beares,
Are objects of our carefull Feares.

and Desire by Feare; as in him of whom Tacitus Hist. lib. 1. speakes, [...]ingebat & m [...]m, quò mag is concupisceret▪ [Page 53] That to justifie his Desires, he pretended his Feares: So likewise are some Passions stopt, or at least bri­dled & moderated by others; Amor soràs mittit timo­rem, [...]. 4. 18. Perfect Love casteth out Feare. It [...]aring in this, as Plutarch hath noted in the hunting of Beasts, thatPlut. [...]rat. 1. de [...]. Alexandri. they are then easiest taken, when they who hunt them, put on the skins of Beasts. As we see, the light and heat of the Sun shining upon fire, is apt to dis­courage it, & to put it out. And this was that which made Saul, when he was possessed with those strong sits of Melancholy, working in him Furie, Griefe, and Horror, to have recourse unto such a Remedie, as is most forcible for the producing of other Passions of a lighter nature; and so by consequence, for expel­ling those. Thus, as we see in the Body Militarie, (as Tacitus hath observed) Vnus tumultus est alterius re­medium, [...]st. lib. [...]. That one tumult is the cure of another; and in the Body Naturall, some Diseases are expelled by others: so likewise in the Mind, Passions, as they mu­tually generate, so they mutually weaken each other. It often falleth out, that the voluntarie admission of one losse, is the prevention of a greater: as when a Merchant casteth out his ware, to prevent a shipwrack; and in a publike Fire, men pull down some houses un­toucht, to prevent the spreading of the flame: Thus is it in the Passions of the Mind; when any of them are excessive, the way to remit them, is by admitting of some further perturbation from others, and so di­stracting the forces of the former: Whether the Pas­sions we admit, be contrarie; as when a dead Palsie is cured with a burning Feaver, and Souldiers suppresse the feare of Death, by the shame of Basenesse;

[Page 54] [...].
Iliad. [...]. 121.
O fearefull Grecians, in your minds recount,
To what great shame this basenesse will amount:

and the hatred of their Generall, by the love of their Countrey; as Vlysses perswaded Achilles:

[...],
Iliad. [...]. 300.
[...]
[...]
Though Agamemnon and his gifts you hate,
Yet looke with pittie on the dolefull state
Of all the other Grecians in the Campe,
Who on your Name will divine honour stampe,
When you this glory shall to them afford,
To save them from the rage of Hectors Sword.

Or whether they be Passions of a different, but not of a repugnant nature; and then the effect is wrought, by revoking some of the spirits, which were other­wise all imployed in the service of one Passion, to at­tend on them; and by that meanes also, by diver­ting the intention of the Mind from one deep Chan­nell into many crosse and broken Streames; as men are wont to C [...] cal [...] ­ribus o [...]erando deprimimus, & sanguinis [...] [...] v [...] [...], Tertull. stop one flux of bloud, by making of another; and Cl [...]. Alex. Padag. l. 2. c. 8. to use frictions to the feet, to call away and divert the humours which paine the head.

Which dissipation and scattering of Passion, as it is wrought principally by this mutuall confounding of them amongst themselves, so in some particular cases likewise, two other wayes; namely, by commu­nion in diverse subjects, and extension on diverse ob­jects. For the first, we see in matter of Griefe, the Mind doth receive (as it were) some lightnesse and [Page 55] comfort, when it finds it selfe generative unto o­thers, and produces sympathie in them: For hereby it is (as it were) disburthened, and cannot but find that easier, to the sustaining whereof, it hath the as­sistance of anothers shoulders. And therefore they were good (though common) observations:

Cur [...] leves loqu [...]ntur, ingentes stupent: And,
Ille dolet vere, qui sine teste dolet.
Our tongues can lighter Cares repeat,
When silence swallowes up the great:
He grieves indeed, who on his friend
Vntestified teares doth spend.

That Griefe commonly is the most heavie, which hath fewest vents, by which to diffuse it selfe: which, I take it, will be one occasion of the heavinesse of in­fernall torment; because there, Griefe shall not be any whit transient, to work commiseration in any spectator, but altogether immanent and reflexive upon it selfe.

Thus likewise we see (to instance in that other par­ticular branch, of diffusing the Passions upon diverse objects) how the multitude of these, if they be Here­rogeneall and unsubordinate, doth oftentimes remit a Passion: for example, in Love; I take it, that that man who hath a more generall Love, hath a lesse vehement Love; and the spreading of Affection, is the weakening of it, (I mean still in things not absolute subordinate; for, a man may love a Wife more with Children, than without them, because they are the Seales and Pledges of that Love) as a River, when it is cut into many lesser streames, runs weaker & shallower. And this, I conceive, is the reason, why Salomon, when he [Page 56] commendeth a strong Love, giveth it but a single ob­ject▪ There is a friend neerer than a Brother; one, in whom the rayes of this affection, like the Sun-beames in a glasse, being more united, might withall be the more servent. I remember not, that I ever read of wonder­full [...]. P [...]. d [...] A [...]ic. multitud. An [...]charsis apud Latr [...]. l 1. Love amongst men, which went beyond Couples; which also Aristotle and Plutarch have observed. And therefore we see, in that state there is or should be greater affection, wherein is the least communitie: Conjugall Love, as it is most single, so it is usually the strongest; and in the Issues and Blessings thereof, there is scarce any more powerfull Epithite to win Love, than Vnigenitus, an onely Sonne.

[...]
Illad. 1. 479. Plutarch. de multie. A [...]ic.
[...]
He lov'd me as one loves the onely Sonne
Of's old age, borne to great Possession.

Insomuch, that even in God himselfe (to whom these Passions are but by an Anthropopathy attribu­ted) that more generall Love of his Providence and Preservation, (which is common to all his Creatures) is (if I may so speake) of a lower degree, (though not in respect of any intention or remission in his Will, but onely the effects thereof towards the things themselves) than that more speciall Love of Adoption, which he extendeth only to those, whom he vouchsafeth to make One in him, who was Vni­genitus and Dilectus from everlasting.

I doe not then (by the way) condemne all strong and united Passions; but only I observe how those, which hereby grow exorbitant, & work prejudice to the Soule, may by a seasonable distracting of them, be reduced unto [Page 57] a wholsome temper: for as it is noted, that a­mongst men, those who have bodies most ob­noxious to dayly maladies, are commonly more secure from any mortall danger, than those who though free from any generall distempers, doe yet find the surprize of one more violent; so is it with mens Passions: Those who have a nature readie, upon sundry occasions to break forth into them, doe commonly finde them lesse virulent and morose, than those who have not their Passi­ons so voluble, and readie to spread themselves on divers objects, but exercising their intentions more earnestly upon one.

CHAP. VIII. Of the effects of Passions, how they sharpen Vertue: Of vitious Concupiscence; of their blinding, diverting, distracting, and precipitating of Reason, and of their di­stempering the Body.

THe last consideration of Passions, was according to the Conse­quents of their Act, which are the ends and effects thereof, both which I include in one; because the naturall end of all operative qualities, is the effects which they are appointed by their owne, or a superiour Vertue to produce. [Page 58] Now, though in the particulars there be severall perfections confer'd both on the operations o [...] the Will, and of the Vnderstanding, from Passi­ons; yet I cannot thinke on any other generall effect which belongeth equally unto them all, but that onely which Tully hath observed out ofAcad. quest. lib. [...]. [...]. q [...]. li. 4. the Peripateticks of Anger, that they are the sharp­ners (and to keepe his phrase) the Whetstone [...] of Vertue, which make it more operative and fruitfull: for Passion stirring up the Spirits, and quickening the Fancie, hath thereby a direct in­fluencePlutarch. lib. de vir. mo [...]. upon the Habits and Manners of the Mind; which being in this estate constrained to fetch all her Motions from Imagination, produ­ceth them with the same clearenesse and vigour as they are there represented. And therefore Aristotle speaking of these two Elements andEthic: lib. 2. cap. 3. Principles of all Passion, Pleasure and Griese, (one of which, all others whatsoever partake of) makes them the Rules of all our Actions, by which they are all governed, and according to the measure whereof, they retaine their severall portions of Goodnesse. Thus Anger, Zeale Shame, Griese, Love, are in their severall order [...] the Whetstones, whereon true Fortitude sharp­neth its Sword: for men are never more neglect▪ full and prodigall of their bloud, than when they are throughly pierced with a sense of injuries, or grieved with a losse of their owne, or their Countreyes honour: So the Poet sayth of Mezentius, when Aenea [...] had slaine Lausus his sonne;

—Aestuat ingens
Aeneid. l [...]b. 10.
Imo in corde pudor mix [...]oque insania luctu,
Et furiis agitatus Amor, & conscia virtus.
A noble shame boyl'd in his lowest brest,
Rage mixt with griefe suffer'd him not to rest;
Love and a conscious Valour s [...]t him on,
And kindled furious Resolution.

So, Love and Compassion are the inciters of Bountie; Hope, the stay and anchor of Patience; keeping the Mind, amidst perils and casualties, from floating and sinking; Feare, the sharpener of Industrie; and Caution an antidote in all our actions, against Violence, Rashnesse, and Indis­cretion: as Latinus said unto Turnus, when in rage he hastned to a combat with Aeneas;

—quantum ipse feroc [...]
Aeneid. lib. 12.
Virtute exuper as, tanto me impensius [...]quum est
Consulere, atque omnes me [...]uentem expendere casus.
The more undaunted Courage doth you move,
'Tis fit my serious Feares shew the more Love;
In mature counsels, and in weighing all
The various dangers and events may fall.

Those imputations therefore which Tully and Seneca, and other Stoicall Philosophers make a­gainst Passions, are but light and emptie, when they call them diseases and perturbations of the Mind; which requireth in all its actions both [Page 60] health and serenitie, a strong and a cleare judge­ment; both which properties, they say, are im­paired by the distempers of Passion: For it is absurd to thinke, that all manner of rest is either healthfull or cleare; or on the other side, all mo­tion diseased and troublesome: for what water more sweet than that of a Spring, or what more thick or lothsome, than that which standeth in a puddle, corrupting it selfe. As in the Wind o [...] Seas, (to which two, Passions are commonly compar'd) a middle temper betweene a quiet Calme and a violent Tempest, is most service­able for the passage betweene Countreyes; so the agitations of Passion, as long as they serve onely to drive forward, but not to drowne Ver­tue; as long as they keepe their dependance on Reason, and run onely in that Channell where­with they are thereby bounded, are of excel­lent service, in all the travaile of mans life, and such as without which, the growth, successe, and dispatch of Vertue would be much im­paired.

For the corrupt effects of Passion in generall, they are many more, because there may be a mul­tiplicitie as well of Evill as of Error, when there is but a unitie of Goodnesse or of Truth. And those effects may be either in respect to them­selves, one amongst another, or in reference to the Vnderstanding, Will, or Body. The effects of them amongst themselves, is in their mutuall ge­nerating and nourishing of each other; as Feare is wrought by Love, and Anger by Griefe, Dol [...] [Page 61] excitat iras; as a Lyon when wounded, is most raging.

—fixumque latronis
Aeneid. lib. 12.
Impavidus frangit telum, & fremit ore cruento.
With bloudie mouth, and an undaunted heart,
Breaks & teares from his wound the fastned dart.

Which effect of Passions, I have before toucht upon; neither is it alwayes a corrupt effect, but onely then, when there is in the Passion genera­tive some distemper. In which respect of the Vnderstanding and Will, (both which I com­prise under one Name of Reason) I conceive the corruption to be principally these foure; Im­posture, or seduction; Alienation, or with­drawing; Distraction, or consounding; and Precipitancie, or a headlong transporting of Reason.

Now concerning these, we are first to remem­ber, that there is in every man a native and ori­ginall strugling betweene Apperite and Reason; which yet proceedeth from Corruption, and the Fall of Man, not from Nature entire, as the Pa­pists contend; who affirme, That the strife and reluctancie betweene Sense and Vnderstanding, ariseth from Physicall and created constitution; and that therefore, that sweet harmonie which was betweene all the Faculties of Man, Animall and Rationall, in his Creation, proceeded from the government of a super-naturall Grace added thereunto: because it being naturall for Sense [Page 62] to desire sensible, and Spirit spirituall good things, and things sensitive and spirituall being amongst themselves opposite; those desites which are carryed unto them, must needs be op­posite likewise.

An Argument as weake, as the Opinion which it defends, is dangerous and prejudiciall to the honour of Mans Creation; as tending to prove, that the first risings and rebellions of Appetite against Reason, and all inordinate desires of in­ferior Faculties, till they taint the Will, are not formally sinnes, as having been naturall to Adam himselfe in Innocencie, though by infused and supernaturall Grace bridled and suspended. An Opinion, which retaineth that odious scandall which they fasten upon us, more justly and truly on their owne heads, touching making God the Author of Sinne; in that they affirme, that Con­cupiscence, whereby Sense is carried to its ob­ject inordinately, that is, without the govern­ment and assent of Reason, to have been naturall to Adam; which yet Saint Paul hath so manyRom. 7. times called by the expresse name of Sinne, in one Chapter.

And for the Argument which they bring, we answer, That naturally, and from the Law of Creation, there was no formall opposition, but a subordination betweene Spirit and Sense. And therefore, notwithstanding the operations of Appetite are common unto Men and Beasts; yet we may not grant, that they have the same manner of being educed and governed in both [Page 63] these. For, as the operations of the vegetative Soule, though common to Beasts, Men, and Plants, are yet in either of these severally so restrained, as that they are truly sayd to be the proper and peculiar workes of that specificall forme, unto which they are annexed: So like­wise, the sensitive Appetite, though generally it be common to Men and Beasts; yet in Men, it was ordained to proceed naturally from the go­vernment of Reason, and therefore may properly be called a humane Appetite, as being determi­ned, restrained, and made conformable unto Mans Nature: so that as long as Man continued entire and incorrupt, there was a sweet harmonie betweene all his Faculties, and such an happie subordination of them each to other, as that every motion of the inferior powers was directed and governed, and therefore might truly and pro­perly be attributed to the superior; but when once Man had tasted of that murthering Fruit, which poysoned him and all his posteritie, then began those swellings, rebellions, and unjoynting of Faculties, which made him as lame in his Na­ture, as it did dead in Grace; whence Passions are become now, in the state of corruption, beast­ly and sensuall, which were before, by Creation, reasonable and humane: For man being in honour was without understanding, and is become as the beasts that perish.

But to returne, we are, as I said, to remember, that there is in Man, by reason of his generall corruption, such a distemper wrought, as that [Page 64] there is not onely crookednesse in, but dissention also, and fighting between his parts. And though the Light of our Reason be by Mans Fall much dimmed and decayed, yet the remainders thereof are so adverse to our unruly Appetite, as that it laboureth against us, as the Philistims against Samson, (or rather indeed as Dalilah, for Samsons eyes were truly put out, before ever the Philistims were upon him) it laboureth, I say, to deprive us of those Reliques of Sight, which we yet retaine.

And this is that first corrupt effect, which IAris [...]. Rbe [...]. l. 1 c. 3. call Imposture, or occaecation, whereby PassionQuin [...]l. lib. 6. cap. 2. reigning in the lower parts, and being impatient altogether of resistance or controule, laboureth to maske Reason, and to obliterate those Princi­ples and originall Truths, whereby their unruli­nesse might be restrained, or at least convinced. And hence it is, that every man, when he hath given place to the violence of Appetite, labou­reth next to incline and prepare his Mind for assent, and to get Reason on the same side with Passion. Disobedience is ever cavilling, and con­tentious; and he who will not worke the righte­ousnesse of God, will be sure to dispute against it, and to stumble at it. And therefore the Apo­stles tell us, that Repentance, and putting away of Rom. 2. [...]. Prov. 10. 8. [...]ccles. 5. 2. [...] Tim. 2. 25. I [...]m. 1. 19, 20, 21. 1 Pet. 2. 8. Io [...]n 3. 20 Lusts, is the onely preparation to acknowledge the Truth: for so long as any man resolves to hold fast his sinne, he will ever re [...]ct the Truth that opposeth it, and bribe Reason to say some­thing for it.

He made himselfe a Lyon, and anon
Became a Boare, a Panther, a Dragon.

So likewise, the Vnderstanding being onceAegrotantes Medici al [...]s Medicos ad se [...], & Ma­g [...] p [...] [...] [...] [...], [...]. Ar [...]. [...]. lib. 3. cap. 16. invaded by Passion, is brought to change into diverse shapes, and to judge of things, not ac­cording to their naked and naturall truth, but according as it finds them beare in the Fancie those impressions of Pleasure, which are most a­greeable to corrupted Nature.

And another Reason, why we seeke to war­rant and to maintaine a Passion, when we have given way unto it, is the love of our Ease: For every man, though he can be content to delight in the pleasure of a Corrupt Passion; yet that part of it, which hath the sting in it, is unpleasant: and therefore there is required the hand of Reason, by Apologies, Pleadings, and Blandishments, either to mollifie the Passion, that it shall not then pierce, or to harden and arme the subject, that it may not be sensible of it.

And, that this Deceit and Ex [...]ation is a proper worke of Passion, (besides our owne dayly experience) this one Argument might sufficiently proove; namely, the Practice ofTertull. contr. Valen [...]. cap. 4. Heretiques: who proposing to themselves ey­ther Gaine, or any other Carnall and corrupt End; did thereupon presently (as the Apo­stle notes) vent the perverse Disputes of their owne corrupt Minds, and make all Truth an [Page 66] Hand-maid and Lacquey to their owne Lusts▪ [...] Tim. 6. 5. And proportionably thereunto, their custome hath beene, Priùs persuadere quàm docere, toTertu [...]. de [...]. Isid. Pelut. l. 1. cp. 102. creepe upon the Affections of Men, and get footing there, before ever they would adven­ture the entertainment of their false Doctrines▪ And as it is sayd of God, that hee first ac­cepted Abel, and then his Sacrifice; so doe they labour first, to worke an approbation of their Persons in the hearts of Men; whence in the second place, their perverse Conceits doe finde the easier accesse to their Vnder­standings.

For, when silly and unstable Mindes shall once be brought to such a Prejudice, as to have the Persons of Men in Admiration; when they shall see an Impostor come unto them, as a man that had wholly renounced the World; like Zopyrus or Synon, clothedH [...]rod▪ Th [...]lia. Ae [...]cid. lib. 2. and deformed with seeming Povertie and Re­pentance; drawing in and out his breath with no other motions, than sighes; pretending to bring nothing but the plentifull Promises of Salvation, Teares in his Eyes, Oyle and Ho­ney in his Mouth, and the most exquisite Pi­cture of true Holynesse, which it is possible for the Art or Hypocrisie of Mans Invention to dr [...]w out: How can the Vnderstanding of weake and simple people choose (especially being before framed unto beleefe, by those two Credulous Qualities, of Ignorance and Feare) but be made inclinable to receive, not [Page 67] onely willingly, but with greedinesse also, whatsoever poysonous Doctrine, under pre­tence of wholesome and saving Physique, such a subtill Impostor shall administer unto them? Such a great force there is in Volun­tarie Humilitie, neglecting of the Body, and other the like pretended pious Frauds, to in­sinuate and take possession of weake and cre­dulous Natures; with whom haply, more Reall, Serious, and Spirituall Arguments, comming with lesse pompe and ostentation, would not prevaile.

—Captique dolis, lacrymisque coactis
Quos neque Tydides nec Larissaeus Achilles
Non anni domuere decem, non mille carinae.
They are surpriz'd by frauds and forced teares,
In whom their greatest foes could work no feares;
Whom ten yeres war not won, nor thousand ships,
Are snar'd and conquer'd by perjurious lips.

The second manner of Corruption, which2. Passion useth on the Vnderstanding and Will, was Alienating or withdrawing of Reason from the serious examination of those Pleasures, wherewith it desireth to possesse the Mind, without controule; that when it cannot so farre prevaile, as to blind and seduce Reason, getting the allowance and Affirmative Consent [Page 68] thereof, it may yet at least so farre inveagle it, as to with-hold it from any Negative Deter­mination, and to keepe off the Mind from a serious and impartiall consideration of what Appetite desireth; for feare lest it should be convinced of sinne, and so finde the lesse sweet­nesse in it.

And this is the Reason of that affected and Voluntarie Ignorance, which Saint Pet [...] 2 Pet. 3. 5. speakes of; whereby Minds prepossessed with a love of inordinate courses, doe with-hold and divert Reason, and forbeare to examine that Truth, which indeed they know; as fearing, lest thereby they should be deterred from those Vices, which they resolve to fol­low. Which is the same, with that excel­lent Metaphore in Saint Paul; who sayth▪ That the wrath of God was revealed from Hea­ven, on all Vngodlinesse and Vnrighteousnesse of Men, [...], whic [...] Rom. 1. 18. hold or detaine the Truth in Vnrighteousnesse: that is, which imprison and keepe in that [...], as the Apostle interpreteth him­selfe, in the next Verse; all those Notions of Divine Truth, touching the Omnipoten­cie and Iustice of God, which were by the singer of Nature written within them, to de­terre them from, or (if not) to make them inexcusable, in those unnaturall pollutions wherein they wallowed. Thus Medea in the Poet:

[Page 69] [...].
Eurip. Medea. Vid. Clem. A­lex. St [...]m. l. 2. p. 284. Edi [...]. He [...].
[...].
I know 'tis wicked that I goe about,
But Passion hath put all my Reason out.

And therefore, that Maxime of the Stoi­callA [...]ria. [...]. lib. 1. cap. 28. Aristot. E [...]hic. l. l. 3. [...]1▪ Philosopher, out of Plato, is false; [...], That all men are un­willinglyMalunt nescire quta [...]am ode­runt. Tertull. Ap [...]l. c. 1. deprived of Truth; since, as Aristo­tle hath observed, directly agreeable to the phrase of Saint Peter, there is [...], [...]. Iusti [...]. [...]ib. qu. & [...]sp. q. 140. [...]. Clem. Alex. an elected or Voluntarie Ignorance, which for their Securities sake, men nourish them­selves in.

And that there should be such an Alienation of the Mind from Truth, when the Fancie and Heart are hot with Passion, cannot be any great wonder: For, the Soule is of a limited and de­termined Activitie in the Body; insomuch, that it cannot with perspi [...]uitie and diligence give attendance unto diverse Objects. And there­fore, when a Passion in its fulnesse, both of a violence and delight, doth take it up, the more cleare and naked brightnesse of Truth is sus­pended and changed: So that, as the Sunne and Moone, at their rising and setting, seeme farre greater than at other times, by reason of thick Vapours, which are then interposed; so, the Mind looking upon things through the Mists and Troubles of Passion, cannot possibly judge [Page 70] of them, in their owne proper and immediate Truth, but according to that magnitude or co­lour, which they are framed into, by prejudice and distemper.

But then, thirdly, if Reason will neither be3. deluded nor won over to the patronage of E­vill, nor diverted from the knowledge and no­tice of Good; then doth Passion strive to con­found and distract the Apprehensions thereof, that they may not with any firmenesse or effi­cacie of Discourse, interrupt the Current of such irregular and head-strong Motions. And this is a most inward and proper Effect of Passion: For, as things presented to the Mind, in the nakednesse and simplicitie of their owne Truth, doe gaine a more firme Assent unto them, and a more fixed intuition on them; so, on the contrarie side, those things which come mixt and troubled, dividing the intention of the Mind between Truth and Passion, cannot obtaine any setled or satis­factorie Resolution from the Discourses of Reason.

And this is the Cause of that Reluctancie betweene the Knowledge and Desires of Incon­tinent Men, and others of the like Nature: For, as Aristotle observes of them, they areEthic. l. 7. c. 10. In consinio con­cupiscenti [...] & poenitentia as­ [...]ra & [...] gand [...]. P [...]tarch. lib. Philosophand. cum princip. but [...], Halfe-Evill, as not sinning with that full and plenarie Consent of Will, but Prat [...]r Electionem, as he speakes; so I may more truly say of them, that they have but an Halfe-Knowledge, not any distinct and ap­plicative [Page 71] Apprehension of Truth, but a con­fused and broken Conceit of things in their Generalitie: Not much unlike unto Night­talkers, who cannot be sayd to be throughly asleepe, nor perfectly awaked, but to be in a middle kind of inordinate temper betweene both; or (as Aristotle himselfe gives the simi­litude)Ethic. lib. 7. cap. 3. it is like a Stage-Player, whose Know­ledge is expresse and cleare enough, but the things which it is conversant about, are not personall and particular to those men, but belonging unto others, whom they perso­nate: So, the Principles of such men are in the generall, Good and True; but they are never brought downe so low, as if they did concerne a mans owne particular Weale or Woe, nor thorowly weighed, with an assu­ming, applying, concluding Conscience; but, like the notion of a Drunken or sleeping man, are choaked and smothered with the Mists of Passion.

And this third Corruption is that, which Aristotle, in the particular of Incontinencie,Ethic. lib. 7. cap. 7. calleth [...], the weakenesse and disabilitie of Reason, to keepe close to her owne Prin­ciples and Resolutions: Whereunto exactly agreeth that of the Prophet; How weake is Ezech. 16. 30. thy heart, seeing thou doest all things, the workes of an imperious Whorish Woman? And else­where, Whoredome and Wine are sayd to take Hos. 4. 11. away the Heart. So Hector describes lascivious Paris:

[Page 72]—— [...],
Iliad. [...]. 45.
[...].
Thy face hath beautie in't, but in thy brest
There doth no strength nor resolution rest.

The last Effect (which I shall but name) is4. that which Aristotle calleth [...], Rashnesse or Precipitancie; which is the most Tyranni­call Violence which Passion useth; when, in spight of all the Dictates of Reason, it furi­ously over-ruleth the Will, to determine and allow of any thing, which it pleaseth to put in practise; and like a Torrent, carryeth all before it; or, as the Prophet speakes, rusheth Ier. 50. 38. Psal. 102. 8. Eccles. 9. 3. Luk. 6. 11. like an Horse into the Battell: So Lust and An­ger are sometimes, in the Scripture, called Madnesse; because it transporteth the Soule beyond all bounds of Wisdome or Counsell, and by the Dictates of Reason takes occasion to become more outragious, Ipsaque praesidia occupat, feedes like Wild-fire upon those Re­medies, which should remove it: As she sayd in the Poet;

Levis est dolor, qui capere consilium potest,
Senec. Medaea.
Lib [...] ire contra.

That's but light griefe, which counsell can abate; Mine swells, and all advice resolves to hate.

[Page 73]The corrupt effects which Passion worketh in the last place on the Body, are divers, accor­ding to the particular nature of the Passions; sometimes too sudden and violent, sometimes too heavie oppression of the heart; the other, sudden perturbation of the spirits. Thus old Ely dyed, with sudden griefe; Diodorsu, with shame; Sophocles, Chilo the Lacedemonian, and others, with joy; Nature being not able to beare that great and sudden immutation, which these Passions made in the Body. The causes and manner of which cogitation, I reserre (as being inquiries not so directly pertinent to the present purpose) unto Naturall Philosophers and Physicians. And from the generalitie of Passions, I proceed unto the consideration of some particulars, ac­cording to the order of their former division: In all which, I shall forbeare this long Method of the Antecedents, Concomitants, and Conse­quents of their Acts, (many particulars whereof, being of the same nature in all Passions, will re­quire to be observed onely in one or two, and so proportionally conceived in the rest) and shall insist principally in those particulars which I handle on the causes and effects of them; as being Considerations, wherein commonly they are most serviceable or prejudiciall to our Na­ture.

CHAP. IX. Of the affection of Love, of Love naturall, of generall communion, of Love rationall, the object and generall cause thereof.

NOw the two first and fundamentall Pas­sions of all the rest, are Love and Ha­tred. Concerning the Passion of Love, we will therein consider first its ob­ject, and its causes; both which being of a like nature, (for every morall object is a cause, thoug [...] not every cause an object) will fall into one.

Love then consists in a kind of expansion o [...] egresse of the heat and spirits to the object lo­ved, or to that whereby it is drawne and attracted whatsoever therefore hath such an attractive power, is in that respect the object and general [...] cause of Love. Now, as in Nature, so in the Affections likewise, we may observe from their objects a double attraction: The first, is tha [...] naturall or impressed sympathie of things, wher [...] by one doth inwardly incline an union with the other, by reason of some secret vertues and occ [...] qualities disposing either subject to that [...] all friendship, as betweene Iron and the Loa [...] stone: The other, is that common and mo [...] discernable attraction which every thing receiv [...] from those natures, or places, whereon they [...] ordained and directed by the Wisedome an [...] [Page 75] Providence of the first Cause, to depend both in respect of the perfection and conservation of their being. For, as God in his Temple, the Church, so is He in his Pallace, (if I may so call it) the World, a God of Order, disposing every thing in Number, Weight, and Measure, so sweetly, as that all is harmonious, (from which harmonie, the Philosophers have concluded aArrian. Epist. lib. 1. c. 6. Divine Providence) and so powerfully, as that all things depend on his Government, without vio­lence, breach, or variation.

And this Order and Wisdome is seene chiefe­ly in that sweet subordination of things each to other, and happie inclination of all to their par­ticular ends, till all be reduced finally unto Him who is the Fountaine, whence issue all their streames of their limited being, and the fulnesse of which, all his creatures have received. Which the Poet, though something too Poetically, see­meth to have express'd:

Principio Coelum ac Terras camposque liquentes
Aeneid. lib. 6. P [...]. Crini [...]. lib. 6. c. 12.
Lucentemque globum Lunae Titaniaque Astra
Spiritus intus al [...], [...]otamque infusa per Artus
Mens agitat molem, & magno se corpore miscet.
Heaven, Earth, and Seas, with all those glorious Lights,
Which beautifie the Day, and rule the Nights,
A Divine inward Vigour, like a Soule,
Diffus'd through ev'ry joint of this great
Graeci eni [...] [...] vo­cant.
Whole,
Doth vegetate, and with a constant force
Guideth each Nature through its fixed course.

[Page 76]And such is the naturall motion of each thing to its owne Sphere and Center; where is both the most proper place of its consisting, and with­all, the greatest freedome from sorraine injurie or violence.

But we must here withall, take notice of the generall care of the Creator; whereby he hath fastned on all creatures, not onely his private de­sire to satisfie the demands of their owne nature, but hath also stamp'd upon them a generall cha­ritie and feeling of Communion, as they are so­ciable parts of the Vniverse or common Body; wherein cannot possible be admitted (by reason of that necessarie mutuall connexion between [...] the parts thereof) any confusion or divulsion, without immediate danger to all the members. And therefore God hath inclin'd the nature of these necessarie agents, so to worke of their dis­cords the perfect harmonie of the whole, that i [...] by any casualtie it fall out, that the Body of Na­ture be like to suffer any rupture, deformitie, o [...] any other contumely, though haply occasioned by the uniforme and naturall motions of th [...] particulars; they then must prevent such damag [...] and reproach, by a relinquishing and forgetting of their owne natures, and by acquainting them­selves with motions, whereunto considered i [...] their owne determinate qualities, they have a [...] essentiall reluctancie. Which propertie and sense of Nature in common, the Apostle hath excellently set downe in 1 Cor. 12. where he ren­ders this reason of all, that there might be [...] [Page 77] Schisme in the Body: which likewise he divinely applyeth in the mysticall sense, that all the seve­rall gifts of the Spirit to the Church, should drive1 Cor. 8. 1. Ephes. 4. 12. to one common end, as they were all derived from one common Fountaine; and should never be used, without that knitting qualitie of Love, to which he elsewhere properly ascribeth the building, continuation, and perfecting of the Saints.

Now, as it hath pleased the infinite Wisdome of God to guide and moderate, by his owne im­mediate direction, the motions of necessarie agents, after the manner declared to their parti­cular, or to the generall end, (which motion may therefore, as I before observed, be called the na­turall Passion of things) so hath it given unto Man a reasonable Soule, to be as it were his Vice-gerent in all the motions of Mans little World.

To apply then these proportions in Nature to the affection of Love in Man, we shall finde first a Secret, which I will call Naturall; and next, a Manifest, which I call a Morall and more discursive attraction. The first of these, is that naturall sympathie wrought betweene the af­fection and the obj [...]ct, in the first meeting of them, without any suspension of the person, [...]ll farther inquirie after the disposition of the ob­ject; which comes immediately from the out­ward, naturall, and sensitive Vertues thereof, whether in shape, feature, beautie, motion, [...], behaviour; all which comming under the spheare [Page 78] of Sense, I include under the name of Iudiciarie Physiognomie: Which is not a bare delight in the outward qualities, but a farther presumption of the Iudgement; concluding thence, a lovely disposition of that Soule, which animateth and quickneth those outward Graces.

And indeed, if it be true which Aristotle inEthic. li [...]. 8. his Ethicks tels us, That similitude is the ground of Love; and if there be no naturall Love stronger than that which is betweene the Body and the Soule, we may well ground some good presump­tion of similitude in the qualities of the Soule with those lovely impressions of Nature which we find in the Body, and may by the same reason collect a mutuall discoverie, by which we ac­knowledge a mutuall sympathie betweene them. And therefore it was no ill counsell (though not alwayes to be heeded) Cave tibi ab iis quos natura signavit, to take heed of such, who like Cain have any marke of notorious deformitie set upon them by Nature. And therefore Homer speaking of the garrulous, impudent, envious, and reviling qualities of Thersites, fits him with a Body an­swerable to such a Mind.

[...]
Iliad. [...]. [...]17.
The most ill-shapen man that to Troy came,
With eye distorted, and in each foot laine,
[Page 79]His shoulders crooked, to his brest shrunke downe,
A sharpe wrye head, here and there patcht with downe.

But yet herein, though it be injurious for a man out of too much austeritie of Mind, to reject the judgement of sense, and to quarrell with this na­turall instinct; yet it is fit, that in this case, con­sidering the deceitfulnesse of things, and what a divers habit, Education or Hypocrisie hath wrought in many, betweene the out and inside of their Natures; that we should, I say, bring a fearefull judgement, like love of B [...]as the Phi­losopher, which may easily, upon good warrant and assurance, alter it selfe: otherwise, when a thing is throughly knowne to be lovely, our hearts may boldly quiet and repose themselves in it.

But here likewise we must observe that pro­portion of Nature, That if our affection cannot stand in private towards one particular, with­out dammage and inconvenience to the pub­lique Body, Politique or Ecclesiasticall, where­of we are members, the generall must ever be esteemed more deare and precious. A scan­dall to the Body, and a Schisme from the whole, is more dangerous and unnaturall, than any private Divisions: for, if there be a wound or swelling in one part of the Body, the parts adjoyning will be content to submit them­selves unto paine, for the recoverie of that; and rather than it shall perish, [...] any [...] ­ble which may conduce to the [...] [...]. [Page 80] And this is the Love of fellow-members, a­mongst themselves. But then, if any part be so farre corrupted, as that it doth more easier derive its contagion upon others, than admit of any succour from them, so that by the con­tinuance thereof in the Body, the whole is en­dangered; or, if the whole Body be readie to perish by Famine; then doth the Sense of Communitie so swallow up that other more private respect, as that the members will be even cruell amongst themselves, to the cut­ting and devouring each of other, that there­by the safetie of the whole may be procu­red. And therefore, the Fable of the Facti­on betweene the Belly and the Members, was wisely applyed by Menenius Agrippa, in a Re­bellion amongst the people of Rome; to shew how unnaturall a thing it is, and how per­nicious to the parts themselves, to nourish their owne private Discontents, when the Weale publique is together therewithall en­dangered.

CHAP. X. Of the Rule of true Love: the Love of God and our selves: similitude to these, the cause of Love in other things: of Love of Concu­piscence: how Love begetteth Love; and how presence with, and absence from the object, doth upon different respects exercise and encrease Love.

FRom this generall and fundamen­tall cause of Love, proceed some others, speciall and particular; whereof, the first and principall is a similitude and resemblance be­tweene the thing loved, and that which is the Naturall Rule of Love.

Now, the Rule of all Love, is by Divine Truth prescribed to be God, and a Mans selfe; so that, what beareth similitude to these, is the properArist. Probl. sell. 10. sect. 51. and right Object of our Affection. To speake therefore a word or two of these.

The Master-Wheele, or first Mover in all the Regular Motions of this Passion, is the Love of God, grounded on the right knowledge of Him; whereby the Soule being ravished with the ap­prehension of his infinite Goodnesse, is earnestly drawne and [...] called out, as it were, to desire an Vnion, Vision, and participation of his Glory and Presence; yeelding up it selfe unto Him, (for [Page 82] by Amor non nisi donum [...] in Ama [...]um. Gui­l [...]el. Paris. de Legibus, c. 19. Love a man giveth himselfe to the thing which he loves) and conforming all its Affecti­ons and Actions to his Will.

And this Love is then Regular, when it takes up all the kinds of Love, and all the degrees of Love. For we love God, Amore amicitiae, for the Goodnesse and Excellencie which is in himselfe, as being most lovely; and Amore desiderii, with a desire of being united unto him, as the Foun­taine of all our blessednesse; and Amore complacen­tiae, with a love of joy and delight in him; when the Soule goes to God, like Noahs Dove to the Arke, and with infinite sweetnesse and securitie reposeth it selfe in him; and lastly, Amore Bene­volentiae, with an endeavour (so farre as a poore Creature can to an infinite Creator; for our Good extendeth not unto him) to bring all praise, service, and honour unto him.

And thus we are to love him above all things; first, Appretiativè, setting an higher price upon his Glory and Command, than upon any other thing besides; all Dung, in comparison. Second­ly, Intensivè, with the greatest force and intention of our Spirit, setting no bounds or measure to our Love of him: thirdly, Adaequatè, as the com­pleat, perfect, and adaequate object of all our Love, in whom it must begin, and in whom it must end. And therefore, the Wise-man speaking of the Love and Feare of God, tells us, that it is Totum Hominis, the Whole of Man. Other Objects are se­verally fitted, unto severall Faculties; Beautie to the Eye, Musick to the Eare, Meat to the Palate, [Page 83] Learning to the Mind; none of these can satisfie the Facultie, unto which it belongs not. And even to their proper Faculties, they bring Vanitie and Vexation with them: Vanitie, because they are emptie, and doe deceive; and because they are mortall, and will decay: Vexation, in the Getting; for that is with Labour; in the Keeping, for that is with Feare; in the Multiplying, for that is with Care; in the enjoying, for if we but taste, we are vexed with desiring it; if we surfet, we are vexed with loathing it. God onely is Totum Ho­minis, fitted to all the wants of an immortall Soule: Fulnesse, to make us perfectly happie; Immortalitie, to make us perpetually happie; after whom we hunger with desire, and are not griped; on whom we feast with delight, and are not cloy­ed. He therefore is to be loved, not with a divi­ded,Matth. 22. 37. but a whole Heart. To love any Creature, either without God, or above God, is Cupiditas, Lust: Vid. August. de Doct. Christ. l. 1. c. 22. & l. 3. c. 10. & de Tr [...]uitat. l. 8. c. 3. & l. 9. c. 8. (which is the formale of every sinne, whereby we turne from God to other things) but to love the Creatures under God, in their right order; and for God, to their right end, (for he made all things for himselfe) this is Charitas, true and regular Love.

Now, the Image and likenesse of God, (not to speake of that Eternall and Essentiall Character of his Fathers brightnesse) is in his Word, and in his Workes; the one, being the Manifestation of his Will; and the other, of his Power and Wise­dome. Our love to his Word, is our search of it; as being the onely Glasse, wherein we see the Won­ders [Page 84] and deepe things of God: our Beleefe of it, All, and Onely; acknowledging in it, the fulnesse of its Truth, and of its sufficiencie: and our Obe­dience to it, submitting our selves, with purpose of heart, unto the rule and guidance of it.

Touching the Workes of God, there are two chiefe things, whereunto the affection of Man is by the Creatures attracted, and wherewith it de­sires an Vnion, namely, the Truth and Goodnesse of them; for by these onely, may all the diverse Fa­culties of Mans Soule be exercised and deligh­ted: The love of both which, is then onely Regu­lar, when it is limited, in regard of the quantitie and qualitie of the act; Humble, in the manner of pursuance, without swelling and curiositie: and lastly, subordinate unto that great Love of God, whose Image we can no further truly love in the Creature, than as we are thereby directed to a far­ther love of Him.

I come now unto that other Rule of Love, wherein Aristotle hath placed the Nature there­of, A Mans selfe, or that unitie and proportion which the thing loved beareth unto the partie lo­ving; [...] Arist. lib. 9 cap. 9. Ethic. lib. 8. cap. 9. 12. Lib. 9. cap. 3. 9. which in one place, he calleth [...], Equa­litie; in another, [...]Identitie; in another, [...], Similitude; in another, [...], Communion; all Relative tearmes, which referre unto the partie loving.

The Root of every mans love unto himselfe, is that unitie and identitie which he hath with him­selfe; it being naturall to every thing, to take de­light in the simplicitie of it owne being: because [Page 85] the more simple and One it is, the more it is like the Fountaine of its being; and therefore hath the more perfection in it. And this love of Man unto himselfe, if subordinate unto the love of God, and governed thereby, is Debitum Natura, a ne­cessarieAristot. Ethic. lib. 9. c. 4. 8. Debt; and such, as the neglect whereof, is a trespasse against Nature.

Now then, as we love our selves, for the unitie which we have in our selves; so, wheresoever we find any similitude to our selves, or character of our selves, either in Nature or Habits, upon that also doe the beames of this Affection extend. Now, a thing may represent our selves, first, in Substance; as the Husband and Wife are said to be one flesh, Arist. Mag [...]r. Mo [...]al. lib. 1. c. 34. and Children are branches and portions of their Parents ▪ Secondly, in Qualities or Accidents; as one man resembleth another in Naturall, and one friend another in Habituall Qualities; as Face an­swereth to Face in Water, so the heart of Man to Man.

With respect unto this double Similitude, there is a double Love; the one, Naturall; the other, acquired, or Habituall: the former is com­mon with Men unto other Creatures: Thus in Aelian, Plutarch, and others, we reade of the Na­turallAelian. lib. de Anim. 2. c. 40. Lib. 2. c. 25. Lib. 6. c. 9. Lib. 9. c. 8. Lib. 1 [...]. [...]. 38. Plu [...]ch. de [...]. Anim [...]l. & de Amore. Aristat. Hist. [...]. lib. 9. c. 4. [...]. affection of Elephants; which seeing their young fallen into a deepe Pit, will leape downe after them, though it be present death; and of the marvellous cunning and valour which many other Birds and Beasts use to provide for the safe­tie of their B [...]ood, exposing and offering them­selves to danger, that they may be delivered: [Page 86] Yea, the Pelican (if wee beleeve the story) dothSophocles in Electra, & ibl Sc [...]oltast. p. 1 27 feed her young ones, when they have been bitten with Serpents, with her owne blood to recover them againe: which Embleme Iohn the second,Th [...]loss. de Repub. lib. 8. c. 1. Sect. 19. king of Portugall is said to have chosen, whereby to expresse his Love to his Subjects: And Homer elegantly expresseth the care of a Bird seeding her young ones.

[...].
Iliad. 1. 324.
She brings her young ones what mea [...] she can find,
When she her selfe with hunger's almost pin'd.

And the like affection, another Poet hath ex­pressed in the most cruell of all the Beasts, the Tyger:

——Sic Aspera Tygris
Statius. Theb. Lib. 10.
Foetibus abreptis Scythico deserta sub Antro
Accubat, & lepidi lambit vestigia lecti.
—The Tyger (which most thirsts for blood)
Seeing her selfe rob'd of her tender brood,
Lies down lamenting in her Scythian Den,
And licks the prints where her lost wholps had lyon.

And this kind of Piety wee finde Reciprocall, Aelian. l. de animal. [...]. cap. 40. & lib. returning from the young ones upward▪ so the young Lyons are said to feed and provide for their old ones; which is also observ'd of Eagles, Sto [...]kes and other creatures. And hence wee [Page 87] read of [...], Lawes, which receive theirAelian. lib. de Anim. 2. cap. 40 & lib. 3. cap. 23 & lib. 9. c. 1. & lib. 10. c. 16. Plutarch. de solert. animal. Aristoph. in Avibus. Plin. lib. 10. c. 23. & lib. 8. cap. 57. demomination from the Stork, providing that children should nourish and take care of their Parents in their distresse. And for men, so great is the power of naturall affection, that Parents desire nothing more, than to be excelled by their children; even vitious men (as Seneca some­where speaketh) desire that their sonnes may be vertuous, and vertuous men that they may bee more worthy and happy than themselves, as Hector prayed for his sonne.

[...].
Iliad. [...]. 480.
Let it be said, here's a brave Sonne indeed,
Who doth his noble Father farre exceed.

And Aeneas to Ascanius.

Disce puer virtutem ex me, verosque labores,
Aenead. lib. 12.
Fortunam ex aliis,—
Vertue and Patience learne my sonne of me,
But may thy fortunes better Patternes see.

And therefore unnaturallnesse of Affection is2 Tim. 3. 3. reckoned up by the Apostle amongst the soulest of sinnes, when like Ismael the nature of men groweth wilde and brutish, as the Philosopher calleth such men [...], men of savage and fierce dispositions. And therefore in the Scrip­ture an unnaturall man is called Onager homo, a [Page 88] wilde-asse man, Gen. 16. 1 [...]. Iob 11. 12. but a meeke and tender▪spirited man is called Ovi [...] homo, a Sheepe man, or a man of a sociable and calme disposition, Ezek 36. 37▪ 38. And amongst the Thebans there was a Law made, which appoin­ted [...]lian. v [...]r. hist. l. 2. c. 7. a Capitall penalty upon those unnaturall men, who should cast out and expose their chil­dren unto ruine.

And as this kind of Love ariseth from Propin­quitie of Nature, so another there is growing out of Similitude of Manners. All flesh, as Syracides Eccles. 13. 17. speakes, will resort to their like, and every man will keepe company with such, as he is himselfe; as wee see learned men hold correspondency with those [...] [...] ▪ Thirsit is viti [...], [...] al [...]ter in­dicat Ho [...] qu [...]m quod es­le [...] viris prae­stantissim is A­chilli & Vl [...]ssi invis [...] ▪ I [...]iad 2. Vid. Aristot. Prob. §. 10. q. [...]. [...], &c. [...]. Id [...]. 9. [...]. S [...] apud D [...]og. Lat [...]i. in Zenon. l. 7. M [...]im▪ Tyriu [...] [...]. 4. that are learned, and good with those that are good: no man that excelleth in any quality, shall ever want Friends; because every man, that ei­ther hath or liketh that Quality, will love it in any other man, and him for it. For by the same reason that a man by the study or practice of any good things laboureth to commend himselfe to his owne judgement, and to the love of others; he is ingaged (unlesse hee will bee false to his owne grounds) to love any other whom hee ob­serveth to study and practice the same thing: For how can I expect, that that in mee should reape Love from other [...], which in others reapeth nothing but Envie from me? And upon this rea­son it is, that a man can hardly permit another to love that, which he himselfe hateth; because we are too apt to make our Iudgements or Passi­ons the rule of another mans, and to dislik [...] that [Page 89] in him, which we doe not allow in our selves: Which unruly affection, the Poet hath excel­lently described in Achilles, when his friend me­diated a reconciliation betweene him and Aga­memnon:

—— [...].
Iliad. 1. 610.
It is not courteous, that where I hate, you
Should love, except you'ld have me hate you too:
But take this rule, if you'l be thought my friend;
The man that offends me, doe you offend.

So much naturally are men in love with their owne likenesse, that many times they can be con­tent to have their very deformities imitated:Plutarch. de Adulat. & A [...]icis. and therefore, the chiefe art of flatterers, is to commend and imitate every thing of him, of whom they would make a prey.

It is true, that in some cases, similitude is the cause of Envie; but this is onely then, when first the qualitie wherein men agree, is a litiga­ting and contentious qualitie: in which case, the meeting of such men in one disposition, is but like the meeting of two rough Streames, which makes them runne with the more noyse [...] Therefore, a wise and a meek-tempered man shall sooner winne and hold the love of an angry man, than he, who is like unto him in that distem­per; because such a man (though indeed he be Conquerour, in regard of his Wisdome) yet by [Page 90] his Patience he seemeth to yeeld: and there is nothing which a mans Passion loves so much as victory. Whereas betweene Anger and Anger there must needs be fighting of affections, which is the remotest temper from Love.

Secondly, when by accident, the quality, where­in men agree, doth any other way inconvenience them▪ either in point of credit, usefulnesse▪ or pro fit. For as the Sta [...]res, though they agree in light, yet Validiorum exortu exilia obscurantur, Pl [...] [...]gyr. those that are small suffer losse by the bright­nesse of others. So amongst men, agreeing in the same abilities, one many times proveth [...] preju­dice and disadvantage unto the other, as the Po­et said,

[...].
Hesiod.
The Potter's often angry with his mates,
One ne [...]ghbour▪ Architect the other hates.

And therefore as the Sunne and Moone agree best in their light when they are fa [...]hest asunder, so in these Arts, which maintaine life or credit, men usually agree best at a distance, because thereby the one doth the lesse dammage or dar­ken the other.

Now this Naturall and Habituall Love is then regular, when Subordinate to that greater, our [...] [...]. A. [...] [...]. [...]. b. [...]. c. 3. Love of God, and when governed by the dictates of a rightly informed Reason, which amongst ma­ny others are these three.

[Page 91]First, That our Love carry its right respect, and no sinister, or by- [...]nd with it; That wee love a friend for himselfe, and not with indirect ends, onely upon our owne benefit: For, as Rbe [...]. l. [...]. c. 4 the Phi­losopher speakes, true Love is a benevolent Affe­ction, willing good unto another for his owne sake. Hominum charitas, saith Cicero, gratuita est. c De Nat▪ d [...]or. lib. 1. True love is free, and without selfe respects: whereas to shrowd our owne private aymes under the name of friendship. Non est amicitia sed mer­catura, S [...]. Epi [...] 9. is onely to make a Trade and Merchan­dize of one another.

Secondly, that our love be s [...]rene, not mudded with errour, and prejudice: [...]. [...]. [...]. 106. in the most able men that are, God is pleased to leave some wants and weakenesses, that they may the better know themselves, bee acquainted with divine bounty in what they have, and their necessary use of o­thers in what they want. And therefore it was a seasonable increpation of Polydamas to Hector.

[...]
[...]iad. r. 720. vid. Plutarch. de Animi [...]ranquil. Ci [...]r▪ ad A [...]i­cum▪ lib. 14. [...]p. [...].
Because thou canst in Warre all men out do,
Wilt thou presume thou canst in Counsell to▪
One breast's too narrow to containe all Arts,
God distributes his gifts in severall parts.

In this case therefore our care must bee to dis­cerne betweene the abilities and infirmities of [Page 92] men, that our Honour and Love of the Person render not his weakenesses beautifull us, nor worke in us an unhappy diligence in the imitation of them. Vix enim dici potest, quantò libentiùs imita­mur Quintil. lib. 2. cap. 2. & li. 10. c. [...]. eos, quibus favemus; Love is very apt to trans port us so farre as to make us imitate the errours of whom we love. Like unskillfull Painters, whoPlutarch. de Adulat. not being able to reach the beauty of the face, ex­presse onely the wrinkles and blemishes of it.

Thirdly, that our love keepe in all the kinds thereof its due proportion, both for the nature of them, being towards some a love of Re­verence, towards others of friendship, towards others of Compassion, towards others of counsell and bounty; as also for their severall degrees of in­tension, which are to be more or lesse according to the Naturall, Morall, or Divine obligations which wee finde in the persons loved. For though wee must love All men as Our selves, yet that inferres not an Equality, but a Fidelity and Sincerity of love; Since even within Our selves, there is no man but loves his Head and his Heart and other vitall parts with a closer Affection than those which are but fleshly and integrall, and more easily re­payrable. And therefore the Apostle limiteth the [...], the greatest degree of our love upon two objects, those of our owne house, and those of1 Tim. 5. 8. Gal. 6. 10. the houshold of faith; not excluding others, but preferring these.

I shall end this particular with naming one Species of Love more (for all this hitherto hath been Amor Amiciti [...], a Love of a Person for [Page 93] himselfe) and it is that which the Schooles call Amor Concupiscenti [...], a love of Concupiscence, or a Circular love, that which begins and ends in a Mans selfe, when his Affections having gone forth to some object, doth againe returne home, and loves it not directly for any absolute goodnesse which it hath in it selfe, but as it is conducible and beares a relation of Convenience to him that loves it. For though all affection of love (as Aristotle observed) bee Circular, in as much as the Object first moves the Appetite, and then the Appetite moves to the Object, and so the motion ceaseth where it began (which is a circle;) (which also by the way shewes us in an Embleme the firme­nesse and strength which love workes amongst men; because of all Formes and Fabriques, those which are Circular are the strongest; as we see in Arches, wherein every part doth mutually touch and claspe in that which is next it:) Yet in this love which I here speake of, there is a greater cir­cle; in that, after all this, there is another Regresse from the Object to the Appetite, applying the goodnesse thereof unto the same, and loving it onely for the commodity and benefit, which the mind is likely to receive from it.

Another subordinate and lesse principall cause of love, may be love it selfe; I meane in anotherEthic. l. 8. cap. [...] & Lib. 9. cap. 1 man: for as it is naturall, according to Aristotle, to praise, so sure it is to love, [...] ▪ Men of loving and good natures: and so he maketh just, beneficient & pleasant [...] men that are true lovers of their owne friends to [Page 94] be the proper objects of Love. And herein is that partly verified, that Love is strong as Death. For as that grave which buries a dead man, doth like­wise burie all his enemies (it being unnaturall to hate the dead, whom wee cannot hurt: for the utmost harme, that malice can doe, is to kill. And therefore it is noted as a prodigious hatred be­tweene the two emulous brothers of Thebes, Ae­tcocles and Polynices;

Nec furiis post fata modus slammaeque rebelles
Statius The b [...]id.
Seditione rogi.—
Their furies were not bounded by their fate,
Ones funeral flame the others flame did hate.)

Even so likewise a mans love hath a power to bury his enemies, and to draw unto it selfe the most backward and differing affections; for be­ing of a transient nature, and carrying forth it selfe into the person beloved, it usually (accor­ding to the condition of other naturall Agents) worketh semblable and alike affections unto it selfe. For besides that, hereby an Adversary is convinced of nourishing an injurious and unde­served [...] cau­sam meam ho­die [...] p [...]tas s [...]it▪ prorsus [...]cens, qui­cunque visus tam b [...]no sea­trie [...] nocens. Senc [...]. i [...] [...]. enmity; hee is moreover mollified and shamed by his owne witnesse, his conscience telling him that it is odious and inhumane to repay love with hatred. Insomuch that upon this inducement, Saul the patterne of raging and un­reasonable envie, was sometimes brought to re­lent and accuse himselfe. And this is the occa­sion [Page 95] (as I take it) of that speech of Salomon; If [...]. 25. 21. thine enemie hunger, give him bread to eat; if he thirst, give him water to drinke; for thou shal [...] heape coales of fire upon his head. Which, though per­haps, [...] [...] [...]st [...], [...] [...] [...], si [...] imp [...]n­dere, [...] re­ [...]endere. Aug. de C [...]te. b. [...] ­dib. c. 4. with earthie and base minds, it hath a pro­pertie of hardning and confirming them in their hatred; yet, with minds ingenuous and noble, it hath a cleane contrarie effect, to melt and purge them. And so the Apostle telleth us, that we love God, because he loved us first; and Mary Mag­dalene 1 [...]ol. 4. 19. Luke 7. 47. having had much forgiven her, did there­fore love Christ much. And therefore the Poets counsell is good:

[...].
Theocri [...].
If for thy love thy selfe would'st loved bee,
[...] ameris? am [...]. Martial.
Shew love to those that doe shew love to thee.

The next two Causes, which I conceive, of Love, I will joyne in one; namely, the absence from, and contrarily, the presence with the thing loved; both which, in a different respect, doe ex­ercise Love. And therefore, first, I like not that speech of Aristotle, that though distance of place [...]. lib. 8. cap. 5. doe not dissolve the root and habit yet it doth the exercise and acts of Love; except he meant it (as I suppose he doth) of the transient acts thereof, whereby each friend doth the office of Love and [...]eneficence to another. For, as in naturall bodies there is not onely a Compl [...]encie or Delight in their proper place, when they enjoy it; but an in­nate [Page 96] propension and motion thereunto, when they* An [...]mus [...] [...], sicu [...] corpus ponde [...]c. [...]. de Civi [...]. [...]. lib. 11. c. 2 [...]. Pond [...]um A [...]or [...]eus, co [...] quocu [...]. [...] [...]. Confe [...]. lib. 13. cap▪ 9. & Epist. 89. are absent from it; so in the mind of man (whose a Love in his Weight) there is not onely a Love of Delight in the fru [...]tion, but a Love likewise of De­sire, in the privation of a Good; which, the more it wanteth, the more it fixeth it selfe upon it: b as some things doe naturally attract fire at a distance. Thus the Poet expresseth the Love of Dido to Aeneas: * [...]. sympos. l. 5. q. 7. Aen [...]id. l. 4.

Illum absens absentem anditque videtque.
When night had severed them apart,
She heard and saw him in her heart.

And it is the wonder of Love (as Saint Chry­sostome [...], in 1 Cor. 10. 30. speaketh) to collect and knit together in one, things faire separated from each other: Wherein stands the Mysterie of the Communion of the Church on Earth, both with it selfe, in all the dispersed members of it, and with Christ the Head; and that other part of it, which triumpheth in Heaven. So that herein, Divine Love hath the same kind of Vertue with Divine Faith; that as this is the being and subsisting of things to come, and distant in Time; so that is the Vnion and knitting of things absent, and distant in place.

But then, much more doth Presence to the goodnesse of an object loved, encrease and exer­cise our Love; because it gives us a more com­pleat sight of it, and Vnion unto it. And there­fore Saint Iohn speakes of a Perfection, and Saint1 Ioh. 4. 18. [Page 97] Paul of a Perpetuitie of our Love unto God, groun­ded1 Cor. 13. 8. on the fulnesse of the Beatificall Vision, when we shall be for ever with the Lord; whereas now, seeing onely in a Glasse darkely, as we know, so like­wise we love but in part onely. And Aristotle makesE [...]hic. lib. 8. c. 5 Mutuall Conversation and Societie one of the greatest bonds of Love; because thereby is a more immediate exercise; and from thence, a greater encrease of the Affection.

As living Plutareb. l. de Invidia & Od. Aristot. po [...]it. lib. 1. c. 7. Creatures, so Affections are nou­rished, after the same manner as they are produced: Now it is necessarie, for the first working of Love, that the Object have some manner of Presence with the Affection, either by a Knowledge of Vi­sion, or of Faith. And therefore Saint Paul sayth, If they had knowne, they would not have crucified 1 Cor. 2. 8. the Lord of Glory; their Ignorance and Hatred of Him, went both together: Simul ut desin [...]nt igno­rare, Apolog. l. c. 1. cessant & odisse; as soone, sayth Tertullian, as they ceased to be ignorant of Christ, they ceased to hate Him: And usually, in the phrase of the Scripture, Knowledge and Love are identicall. So2 Tim. [...]. 19. Matth. 7. 23▪ Ioh. 9. 21. Psa. 1. 6. 3 [...]. [...]8. Rom. 8. 29. then, all Love proceeding from Knowledge, and all Knowledge presupposing some Presence of the thing knowne, it appeareth, that the Presence of the Object begetteth, and therefore, by proporti­on, it nourisheth this Affection.

The last Cause or inducement to this Passion, (which I will but name) is an Aggregate of diverse Beautifull and Amiable Qualities in the Object; as namely, Sympathie, Iustice, Industrie, Temperance, Ingenuitie, Facilitie, Pleasantnesse and [Page 98] Innocencie of Wit, Me [...]knesse, Yeeldingnesse, Pati­ence, Sweetnesse of behaviour and disposition, without Closenesse, Suspition, Intermedling, Inquisitivenesse, Morositie, Contempt, Dissen­tion; in all which, men are either Injusti or Pug­naces, Rhe [...]or. l. 1. c. 4. doe either wrong us, or crosse us: Which two, the Philosopher makes the generall Oppo­sites of Love: On which I shall forbeare to insist, as also on the Circumstances of the Act of this Passion it selfe, in the Quantitie and Qualitie thereof, and shall proceed in briefe to the Conse­quents or Effects of this Passion.

CHAP. XI. Of the Effects of Love, Vnion to the Object, Stay and Immoration of the Mind upon it, Rest in it, Zeale, Strength, and Tendernesse towards it, Condescention unto it, Lique­faction and Languishing for it.

THe first which I shall observe, is Vnion, occasioned both by the Love which we have to a thing, for it [...] owne sake, and likewise, for the Love of our selves, that there may be a greater mutuall interest each in other. Where-ever Love is, it stirreth up an en­deavour, to carry the heart unto the thing which it loveth▪ Where the Treasure is, there the heart wil [Page 99] be. Hence, none are sayd to love God, but those that are some way united unto him. And there­fore, as Gods first love to man, was in making man like himselfe; so his second great love, was in making himselfe like man. Hence, we reade so often of that mysticall inhabitation of Christ in his Church, of that more peculiar Vnion and pre­sence with his people, of a Spirituall Implantation unto him by Faith, of those neere relations of Filiation and Fraternitie, of mutuall interest each in other, I am my beloveds, and my beloved is mine; importing an inseparable Vnion of the Church to Christ. And this may be the reason of that order in Saint Pauls solemne Benediction, The Grace of Christ, the Love of God, and the Communion of the Spirit: for, as the Grace of Christ onely taketh away that enmitie which was betweene sinners and God, and is the onely meanes of our recon­ciliation unto him; so the Love of God is the onely Bond of that Communion, which we have with him and his holy Spirit.

Vnion is of diverse sorts. One, such whereby diverse things are made simply one, either by the conversion of one into the other, or by the composi­tion, or constitution of a third out of the things uni­ted, as of mixt bodies out of united Elements, or of the whole substance▪out of the essentiall parts: Another, such whereby things united are made one after a sort, either by an accidentall aggregation, as diverse stones make one heape, or by an orderly and artificiall distribution, as diverse materialls make one house. Or by either a naturall or morall [Page 100] inclination and sympathy which one thing bea­rethArist. Rh [...]r. lib. 2. cap. 4. Di [...]ger. La [...]t. in Zenon. [...]7. unto another. And of this sort is that union which ariseth out of love, tending first unto a mu­tuall similitude and conformity in the same de­sires; and next unto a mutuall possession, fruition, and proprietie, whereby the minde loving, long­eth to be seised of the thing which it loveth, and cannot endu [...]e to bee deprived of it. So Moses praied, I beseech thee shew me thy glory; for the vi­sion of God is the possession of him; and so David, My soule thirsteth for God, when shall I come and ap­peare before him? And this is the foundation of all sorrow, when the soule is dispossessed of that which it loved, and wherein it rested. And this desire of Possession is so great that Love contenteth it selfe not with the Presence, but even then put­teth out its endeavours [...]nto a neerer, and more reall union, as if it would become really One with the thing which it loveth; which is seene in em­bracings, Amor Hedera Plutarch. de Aud. Scalig. de subtititate. Arist. Polit. lib. 2. c. 4. Vel pr [...]sentem desid [...]mus. Pli [...]. Pantg. kisses, in the exiliency and egresse of the spirits, in the expansion of the heart, in the sim­plicity and natur [...]lnesse of all mutuall carriages, as if a present friend were not yet present e­nough. Which kind of expressions of love are thus elegantly described by Homer, when Eumaeus saw Telemachus safely returned home from Sea.

[...].
Odyss. II. 14.
Eumaeus all amaz'd sprung to the dore.
The pots of wine which his hands mixt before
Did both fall from them: he ranne on to meet,
And with full wellcomes his young master greet.
He kist his head, hands, eyes; and his teares kept
Time with his kisses, as he kist he wept.

The like elegant description wee have of the love of Penelope, when Vlisses after his returne was perfectly knowne unto her.

[...]
Odyss. x. 208.
She wept and ran straight on, her hands she spread
And claps'd about his neck, and kist his head.

Love hath in morall and divine things the same effect which fire hath in naturall, to congregate homogeneall, or things of the same kinde, and to separate heterogeneall, or things differing: as we see in the Love of God, the deeper that is, the more is the spirituall part of man collected to­gether, and raysed from the earth. And there­fore in heaven, where love shall bee perfect, all things shall be harmonious and homogeneal, not in regard of naturall properties, but in a pure and unmixed spiritualnesse of affections in a perfect unity of minds and motions.

From the union of love proceeds another secret effect, namely, a resting of the mind in the thing [Page 102] loved. In which respect the Philosopher calleth knowledge the rest of the understanding. And this can onely be totall and perfect in the Vnion of the Soule with God, the chiefest good there­of. Whence some have made the threefold Ap­petite G [...] [...] Theol. in man, Concupiscible, Rationall and Irascible, to have their finall perfection and quiet by a distinct union to the Three Persons in the Trinity: for the Concupiscible power is car­ried ad bonum to good, which they say is the At­tribute of the holy Spirit; the Rationall adverum, to that which is true, which is the Attribute of the Sonne; and the Irascible ad Ard [...]um, to Pow­er, which is the Attribute of the Father. But to let that passe for a spiders web (curious, but thin) certaine it is that God onely is that end, who can fully accomplish the perfection and terminate the desires of those creatures, whom hee made after a peculiar manner to know and enjoy him. But proportionably, there ariseth from the Vnion unto any other Object of Love, a satiating and qui­eting of the Facultie; which, in a word, is then onely, in Objects of inferiour order and goodnesse, regular, when the Object is naturall, and the Action limited. Disproportion and Enormitie are the two Corruptions in this particular.

A third Effect, which I shall observe of Love, is Stay, and immoration of the Mind upon the Object loved, and a diverting of it from all others: as we observed in Eumaeus, when he saw Telema­chus, he threw away the Businesse which he was about before: And the Woman of Samaria, be­ing [Page 103] transported with the love of Christ, left her Pitcher, which she had brought to the Well, that she might goe and call others unto his Doctrine: And Mary left the thoughts of entertaining Christ at the Table, out of an extraordinarie de­sire to entertaine him in her heart. And this effect the Poet hath excellently expressed in Dido; who having shewed before a marvellous Princely wis­dome and sedulitie, in fortifying her new King­dome, and viewing the Workes her selfe, (as he had before described) as soone as she was once transported by the love of Aeneas, then all stood still on a sudden.

Non capta assurgunt turres, non arma juventu [...]
Exercet; portusvè, aut propugnacula bello
Aenead. l. 4.
Tuta parant; pendent opera interrupta—
The Towers long since begun, rose up no more,
And Armes did rust, which ere▪ while brave youth wore.
No Ports, no Sconces, no defence went on,
But all their works hung broken, and halfe done.

Thus, as Plutarch hath observed, the Images of things in the fancies of other men are like words written in water, which suddenly vanish; but the Impressions which love makes, ar [...] as it were, writ­ten with an hot iron, which leaveth fixed and abi­ding prints in the memory.

Love and Knowledge have mutuall sharpening and causality each on other: for as Knowledge doth generate Love, so Love doth nourish and ex­ercise! [Page 104] Knowledge. The reason whereof is that unseparable union, which is in all things between the Truth and Good of them: for it being the pro­perty of Truth to unite and apply Goodnesse (no­thing being apprehended as Good, unlesse that Goodnesse be apprehended as true) the more Ap­petite enjoyeth of this, the deeper inquiry doth it make, and the more compleat union doth it seeke with that: the Heart and the Treasure can seldome be severed; the Eagles will alwayes re­sort to the body; Davids Love gave length and perpetuity to his meditation, even all the day.

And herein, methinkes, may consist another proportion betweene the strength of Love and Death; for as in Death nature doth collect and draw in those spirits, which before lay scattered in the outward parts, to guard and arme the heart in its greatest conflict; uniting all those langui­shing forces which are left, to testifie the natu­rall love which each living creature beareth to its owne conservation: so doth Love draw and unite those Spirits which administer either to the Fan­cie or Appetite, to serve onely for the nourishing of that Affection, and for gazing upon that trea­sure whereunto the Heart is wholly attracted. Which Spirits, being of a limited power and in­fluence, doe therefore with the same force, where­by they carry the mind to the consideration of one thing, withdraw it from all other that are he­terogeneall; no determined power of the Soule being able to impart a sufficient activity unto di­verse [Page 105] independing operations, when the force of it is exhausted by one so strong; and there being a sympathy, and as it were, a league between the faculties of the Soule, all covenanting not to obscure or hinder the Predominant Impressions of one another. And therefore as in Rome when aPlutarch. in Amatori [...]. Dictatour was created, all other Authority was or that time suspended; so when any strong Love hath taken possession of the Soule, it gives a Supersedeas and stop unto all other imploy­ments. It is therefore prescribed as a Remedy a­gainst inordinate Love.

——Pabula Amoris
[...]ucret. apud P [...]tr. [...]. lib. 16. cap. 4.
Absterrere sibi, atque aliò convertere mentem.
To draw away the [...]ewell from this fire,
And turne the minde upon some new desire.

For Love is Otiosorum Negotium, as Diogenes [...] Diogenes a­pud Laert. lib. 6 spake, the businesse oftentimes of men that want imployments.

Another effect of Love is Iealousie or Zeale. Laert. lib. 6. Whereby is not meant that suspicious, inquisi­tive, quick-sighted quality of finding out the [...]lemishes, and discovering the imperfections of one another (for it is the property of true Love [...]o thinke none evill) but onely a provident and solicitous feare, least some or other evill should either disturbe the peace, or violate the purity of what we love: like that of Iob towards his sons;Iob 1. 5. [...]nd of the Apostle towards his Corinthians, I [Page 106] am jealous over you with a godly jealousie: So Pen [...] [...] C [...]r. 11. 2. lope in the Poet was jealous of the safety of Vlisses.

In t [...] singebam violentos Troas ituros,
Nomine in Hectoreo pallida semper eram.
O [...]d. [...].
How oft my decre Vlisses did I see
In my sad thoughts proud Trojans rush on thee▪
And when great Hectors name but touch'd mine­ears
My cheeks drew palenes frō my paler fears.

Zeale is a compounded affection, or a mixture of Love and Anger; so that it ever putteth forth it selfe to remove any thing which is contrary to the thing we love; as we see in Christ, whose zeale [...]b. 2. 17. or holy anger whipped away the buyers and sel­lers out of the Temple. In which respect it i [...] said that the zeale of Gods house did consume him. [...] [...] [...] As water when it boyleth (from which metapho [...] the word zeale is borrowed) doth in the boyling consume, or as the candle wasteth It selfe with burning. In which respect likewise it is said, that [...] [...]. much water cannot quench Love. It is like Lime, the more water you cast upon it, the hotter it growes. And therefore the sinne of Laodiee [...] which was contrary unto zeale is compared unto [...] 3. [...]. luk [...]warme water, which doth not boyle, and so cannot worke out the scumme or corruption which is in it.

And from hence it is that Love makes Weake things strong, and turneth Cowardice into Valou [...] [...]. and Meekenesse into Anger, and Shame into [Page 107] Boldnesse, and will not conceive any thing too hard to undertake. The fearefull He [...], which hath nothing but flight to defend her selfe from the Dogge, or the Serpent, will venter with cou­rage against the strongest creatures to defend her little chickens▪ Thus Zeale and Love of GodNam. 12 11. Exod 3 [...] 19. made Moses forget his meekenesse; and his An­ger was so strong▪ that it brake the Tables o [...] the Law, and made the people drink the Idol which they had made. And this is wi [...]lly expressed by Seneca, that Magnus dolor iratus amor est, a greatS [...]nec. in Here O [...]. griefe is nothing else but Love displeased, and made angrie. It transporteth Nature beyond its bounds or abilities, putteth such a force and vigour into it, as that it will adventure on any difficulties; as Mary Magdalen would in the strengthVid. Pluta [...]. [...]. of her Love undertake to carry away the dead bo­dy of Christ (as she conceived of him) not con­sidering the weight of that, or her owne weake­nesse. It hath a constraining vertue in it, and makes a man do that which is beyond his power; as the Corinthians, when they were poore in estate, were yet rich in Liberality. It makes a man im­patient to be unacquainted with the estate of an absent friend, whom wee therefore suspect not sufficiently guarded from danger, because desti­tute of the helpe which our presence might af­ford him. In one word, it makes the wounds and staines of the thing loved to redound to the griefNo [...] [...]atiar me [...] sc [...]re de eo quem imem. Pl [...]n. Epist. and trouble of him that loveth it. He that is not jealous for the credit, security, and honour of what hee pretendeth affection to, loves nothing [Page 108] but himselfe in those pretenses. [...] Eur [...]pid. Helen.

Another Effect of Love is Condescension to things below us, that wee may please or profit those whom we love. It teacheth a man to deny his owne judgement, and to doe that which a looker on might happily esteeme Weaknesse o [...] Indecencie; out of a fervent desire to expresse af­fection to the thing beloved. Thus Davids great Love to the Arke of Gods presence did transport him to leaping and dancing, and other such fa­miliar expressions of joy (for which Michall out of pride despised him in her heart) and was contented by that, which she esteemed basenesse, to honour God: herein expressing the love of him unto Mankind, who was both his Lord and his Sonne; who emptied, and humbled, and de­nied himselfe for our sakes, not considering his owne worthinesse, but our want; nor what was honourable for him to doe, but what was neces­sary for us to be done. Quicquid Deo indignum, mihi expedit, what ever was unworthy of him, was expedient for us. Thus Parents out of Love to their children doe lispe, and play, and fit their speeches and dalliances to the Age and Infirmi­ties of their children. Therefore Themistocles be­ingPlutarch. Apo­thegus. L [...]con. found playing and riding on a reed with his little boy, desired his friend not to censure him for it, till hee himselfe was a father of chil­dren.

The last Effect which I shall observe of thisVid. Plutarch. symposiac. l. 5. [...]. 7. Passion is that which we call Liquefaction or Lau­gnor, a melting, as it were, of the heart to receive [Page 109] the more easie impressions from the thing which [...] &c. [...]. [...]. 2. it loveth, and a decay of the Spirits, by reason of that intensive fixing of them thereon, and of the painefull and lingring expectation of the heart to enjoy it. Love is of all other the inmost and most viscerall affection. And therefore called by theGen. 43. 1 [...]g. 3. 26. Apostle, Bowels of Love. And we read of the year­ning of Iosephs bowels over Benjamin his mothers sonne, and of the true Mother over her child. In­caluerunt viscera, they felt a fervour and agitation of their bowells, which the more vehement it is, doth worke the more sudden and sensible decay and languishing of Spirits. So Ammon out of wanton and incestuous Love is said to grow leane 2 Sam. 13. from day to day, and to have been sicke with vexati­on for his sister Thamar.

And in spirituall love we find the like expres­sion of the Spouse; Stay me with flagons, comfort Cant. 2. 5. me with apples, for I am sick of love: Wine to ex­hilerate, apples to refresh those Spirits, which were, as it were, melted away, and wasted by an extreame out-let of Love. And for this reason the Object of our Love is said to Overcome us, and to Burne the Heart, as with Coales of Iumper; andCan. 6. 5. 8. 6. the like expressions of wounding and burning the Poet useth.

—Est mollis slamma medullas
Aenead. 4.
Interea & tac [...]um vivit sub pectore vulnus.
A wellcome soft flame in her bones did rest,
And a close wound liv'd in her bleeding breast.

[Page 110]Now the cause of this Languor, which love worketh, is in Sensitive Objects, an earnest de­sire to enjoy them; in Spirituall Objects, an ear­nest desire to increase them. In the former, want kindleth love, but Fruition worketh wearinesse and satiety: In the other fruition increaseth love, and makes us the more greedy for those things which when we wanted, we did not desire. In earth­ly things the desire at a distance promiseth much pleasure, but tast and experience disappointeth expectation. In heavenly things, eating and drinking doth renew the Appetite, and the grea­ter the experience, the stronger the desire: as the more acquaintance Moses had with God, the more he did desire to see his glory. And so much may suffice for the first of the Passions, Love, which is the fountaine and foundation of all the rest.

CHAP. XII. Of the Passion of Hatred, the Fundamentall Cause or Object thereof Evill, how farre forth Evills are willed by God may bee de­clined by men, of Gods secret and revealed Will.

THe next in order is Hatred: of which the Schoole-men make two kinds; an Hatr [...]d of Abomi­nation or loathing; which con­sists in a pure aversion or flight of the Appetite from something ap­prehended as Evill, arising from a dissonancy and repugnancy betweene their natures: and an Ha­tred of Enmity, which is not a flying, but rather a pursuing Hatred, and hath ever some Love joyned with it, namely a Love of any Evill which we de­sire may befall the person or thing which wee hate.

I shall not distinctly handle these asunder, but shall observe the Dignities and Corruptions of the Passion in generall, as it implies a common disconvenience, and naturall Vnconformitie between the Object and the Appetite.

The Object then of all Hatred is Evill; and all evill implying an opposition to Good admits of so many severall respects as there are kinds of op­position.

[Page 1112]And there is first an Evill of Contraricty, such as is in the qualities of Water unto Fire, or a Wolfe unto a Sheepe, occasioned by that De­structive Efficiency, which one hath upon the other.

Secondly, an Evill of Privation, which we hate formally and for it selfe, as implying nothing but a Defect and Absence of Good.

Thirdly, an Evill of Contradiction in the not be­ing of any creature, oppos'd to its being. For Be­ing and Immortality is that which Aristotle makes one of the principle objects of Love; Annihilati­on then, or Not being is the chiefest Evill of things, and that which Nature most abhorreth.

Lastly, an Evill of Relation; for as things in their owne simple natures Evill, may have in them a Relative Goodnesse, and so to be desired; as the killing of beasts for the service, and the death of malefactors for the security of men: so things in their absolute being Good may have in them a Re­lative, or Comparative Evill, and in that sence bee by consequence hated; as our Saviour intimates He that hateth not father and mother, and his owne life for me, is not worthy of me: when they prove snares and temptations to draw us from the Love of Christ, they are then to bee undervalued in com­parison of him. And therefore we find in the Law if a mans dearest brother or child, or wife, or friend should entice him from God unto Idolatry, he was not to conceale, pitty, or spare him, but his owne hand was to bee first upon him. And thus the Poet hath elegantly expressed the behaviour [Page 113] of Aeneas toward Dido, who being inflamed with Love of him, would have kept him from the ex­pedition, unto which by divine guidance he sup­posed himselfe to be directed.

—Quanquam lenire dolorem
Soland [...] cupi [...], & dictis avertere curas,
(Multag [...]ens magno (que) animum labefactus amore)
Iussa tamen Div [...]m exequitur.—
Though he desir'd with solace to appease,
And on her pensive soule to breathe some ease,
(Himself with mutuall love made saint) yet still
His purposes were fixt t'obey Gods will.

So then we see what qualification is required in the Object of a just Hatred, that it be Evill, and some way or other offensive, either by defiling or destroying nature: and the Passion is ever then irregular when it declineth from this rule.

But here, in as much as it is evident that the be­ing of some evill comes under the Will of God; (Is there any Evill in a City, and the Lord hath not done [...]) and our will is to bee conformable unto his; it may seeme that it ought to fall under our Will too, and by consequence to bee rather loved than hated by us, since wee pray for the fulfilling of Gods Will.

For resolution of this, wee must first consider, that God doth not love those Evils which hee thus willeth, as formally, and precisely considered in themselves. And next wee will observe how [Page 114] farre the Will of God is to bee the rule of our will; whence will arise the cleare apprehension of that truth which is now set downe, that the unalterable Object of mans Hatred is all manner of Evill, not onely that of deformity and sinne, but that also of destruction and misery.

First then for the Will of God, we may bold­ly say what himselfe hath sworne, that hee will not the death or destruction of a sinner: and by consequence neither any other evill of his Crea­ture, as being a thing infinitely remote from his mercy; he is not delighted in the ruine, neither doth hee find pleasure or harmony in the groanes of any thing which himselfe created: But hee is said to will those Evills as good and just, for the manifestation of his glorious Power over all the Creatures, and of his glorious Iustice on those, who are voluntarily fallen from him. But now because it is left onely to the Wisedome of God himselfe to know and ordaine the best meanes for glorifying of himselfe in and by his creatures, we are not here hence to assume any warrant for willing evill unto our selves or others, but then onely when the honour of the Creator is therein advanced. And so the Apostle did conditional­ly wish evill unto himselfe, if thereby the glory of Gods mercy towards his Countrey-men the Iewes might be the more advanced.

Secondly, it is no good Argument, God willeth the inflicting of such an evill, therefore it is un­lawfull for my will to decline it: for first the Will of God, whereby hee determineth to worke [Page 115] this or that evill on particular Subjects, is a part of his secret Counsell. Now the Revealed, and not the Hidden Will of God is the rule of our Wills and Actions: whence it commeth to passe, that it is made a part of our necessary obedience unto God in our wishes or aversations to goe a crosse way to his unrevealed purpose. Peradventure in my sicke bed it is the purpose of God to cast my body into the earth, from whence it was taken; yet for me herein to second the Will of God by an execution thereof upon my selfe, or by a neg­lect of those Ordinary meanes of recovery which hee affords, were to despise his mercy, that I might fulfill his Will. Peradventure in my flight a sword will overtake mee, yet I have the warrant of my Saviours example and precept to turne my backe rather than my conscience in per­secution: alwaies reserved, that though I will that, which God willeth, yet my will bee ever sub­ordinated unto his. Wee owe submission to the will of Gods purpose and Counsell, and wee owe conformity to the will of his Precept and Com­mand; we must submit to the will, whereby God is pleased to worke himselfe, and wee must con­forme to the will, whereby hee is pleased to com­mand us to worke. And therefore

Secondly, though the Will of God were in this case knowne, yet is not our will constrained to a necessary inclination, though it bee to an humble submission and patience in bearing that which the Wisedome and purpose of God hath made inevitable; for as the promises and de­crees [Page 116] of Good things from God doe not warrant our slacknesse in neglecting, or our profanenesse in turning from them; so neither doth the cer­tainty and unavoidablenesse of a future evill (as death intended upon us by God) put any neces­sity on our nature to deny it selfe, or to love its owne distresses.

Of which that we may be the more sure, wee may observe it in him, who as hee was wholly like us in nature, and therefore had the same na­turall inclinations and aversations with us; so was hee of the same infinite essence with his Fa­ther, and therefore did will the same things with him, yet even in him we may observe (in regard of that, which the Scripture saith, was by the hand and Counsell of God before determined) a seeming Reluctancy and withdrawing from the Divine Decree. He knew it was not his Fathers Will; and yet, Father, if thou bee willing, l [...]t this cup passe from me: he was not ignorant that he was to suffer, and that there was an Oporte [...], a necessity upon it, and yet a second and a third time againe, Father, if it be possible, let this Cup passe from me. Consider it as the Destruction of his Temple, and Anguish of nature, which hee could not (being in all things like unto us) but love; and then Tran­seat, Let it passe: but consider it as the necessary meanes of procuring pretious blessings for man­kind, and of fulfilling the eternall Decree of his Fathers Love, and then, Not as I, but as thou wilt.

The same may be applied in any manner of hu­mane [Page 117] evills, notwithstanding we are with an ar­med patience to sustaine them, or with an obedi­ent submission unto Divine pleasure to wait for them; yet in regard of that pressure of nature, which they bring with them (on which the God of Nature hath imprinted a naturall desire of its owne quiet and integrity) so farre forth all Evill, not onely may, but must bee Hated by every Regular will, upon paine of violating the Law of its Creation.

And indeed in all this there is not any deviati­on from the Will of God, intending that which we abhorre: for as it stands not with the nature of man to hate himselfe, or any good thing of his owne making; so neither doth it stand with the goodnesse of God to hate his Creature, or to de­light barely in the misery or afflictions thereof; but onely in that end of manifesting his glory and righteousnesse, whereunto hee in the dispen­sation of his Wisdome and Iustice hath wonder­fully directed them. And therefore, as to mur­mure at the Wisedome of God in thus ordering evills unto a good end, were a presumptuous re­pining; so on the other side, not to entertaine those naturall desires of a straightned mind after deliverance from those evills, were to be in Solo­mons▪ phrase too Righteous, and out of a purpose to answere the ends of Gods Wisedome, to crosse the Law of his Creation.

So then it is evident that the Object and funda­mentall cause of Hatred, is all and onely Evill: which (however in respect of the Existence of it, it bee [Page 118] in some cases Good; for as it is in the power of God to educe out of confusion order, light out of darkenesse, his owne honour out of mans shame; so is it his providence likewise to turne unto the great good of many men those things which in themselves doe onely hurt them) Yet I say this notwithstanding, as it worketh the deformity and disquiet of nature, it is against the created law and in-bred love, which each thing beareth to its owne perfection; and therefore cannot but be ne­cessarily hated.

As on the other side, those ordinary and com­mong goods, which we call, in respect of God, bles­sings, as health, peace, prosperity, good successe, and the like; notwithstanding they commonly prove unto men, unfurnished with those habits of wisedome and sobriety, whereby they should bee moderated, occasions of much evill and dangers; so that their Table is become their snare (as the experience of those latter Romane Ages proveth, wherein their victories over men hath made them in luxury and vilenesse so prodigious, as if they meant to attempt warre with God.) Notwith­standing I say all this; yet for as much as these things are such as doe quiet, satisfie, and beare convenience unto mans nature, they are there­fore justly with thankefulnesse by our selves re­ceived, and out of love desired unto our friends.

I now proceed from the object or Generall fun­damentall cause of hatred, unto some few which are more particular, and which do arise from it.

CHAP. XIII. Of the other Causes of Hatred, Secret Anti­pathy, Difficulty of procuring a Good com­manded, Injury, Base Feares, Disparity of Desires, a Fixed Iealous Fancy.

THe first which I shall note isArist. Hist. Anim. l 9. c. 44. See Plan. N [...]t. Hist. l. 8. c. 4. 9. 10. lib. 9. c 6 [...]. l 10. c. 37. 74. lib. 16. c. 13. l. 20. [...]n pro [...]m. lib. 2 [...]. c 20. lib. 24 c. 1. Aelian. de A­nimal l. 3. c. 7. l. 4. c [...]. l. 5. [...]. 48. 50. l. 6. c. 22. 45, 4 [...]. Plutarch S [...]m­pos. lib. 2. 47. a secret and hidden Antipa­thy which is in the natures of some things one against another. As Vultures are killed with sweet smells, and Horse-flies with oynt­ments; the Locust will die at the sight of the Po­lypus, and the Serpent wil rather flye into the fire, than come neere the boughes of a wild Ash: some plants will not grow, nor the blood of some Creatures mingle together; the feathers of the Eagle will not mixe with the feathers of other foules. So Homer noteth of the Lyon, that hee feareth fire, and the Elephant nauseates his meat, if a Mouse have touched it. A world more of particulars there are which Naturalists have ob­served of this kind: from which naturall Anti­pathy it commeth, that things which never before saw that which is contrary to them, doe yet at the very first sight flye from it, as from an enemy toPlutarch. de Odio & [...]vid. their nature, nor will they ever be brought by dis­cipline to trust one another.

[...]
Iliad. [...]. 22.
[...]
[...]
Lyons with men will ne're make faithfull truce,
Nor can you any way the Wolfe induce
To Love the Lamb: they study with fixt hate,
The one the other how to violate.

And the like kind of strange Hatred wee may sometimes find amongst men; one mans dispo­sition so much disagreeing from anothers, that though there never passed any injuries or occasi­ons of difference betweene them, yet they cannot but have minds averse from one another; which the Epigrammatist hath wittily expressed.

Non amo te Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare;
Martiall.
Hoc tantum possum dicere, Non amo te.
I love thee not, yet cannot say for what;
This onely I can say, I love thee not.

Another cause working Hatred of a thing in the minds of men, is the difficulty and conceited impossibility of obtaining it, if it bee a good thing which wee either doe or ought to desire, which the Casuists call Acedia, being a griese of the appetite looking on a Difficult Good, as if it were evill because difficult; from whence ariseth [Page 121] a Torpor and Supine neglect of all the meanes, which might helpe us to it. Thus wicked and re­solved sinners, conceiving happinesse as unacqui­rable by them, do grow to the Hating of it, to en­tertaine rancorous affections against those, which perswade them to seeke it, to envie and maligne all such they find carefull to obtaine it; to pro­ceed unto licentious resolutions of rejecting all hopes of thoughts of it, & to divert their minds towards such more obvious and easie delight, asVid. Arist. E­thic. lib. 9. c. 4. will be gotten with lesse labour; thus Difficulty rendereth Good things Hateful; as Israel in the wildernesse despised the pleasant Land, because there were sonnes of Anak in it.

And this is one great cause of the different af­fections of men towards severall courses of life; one man being of dull and sluggish apprehensi­ons, hateth Learning: another by nature quicke and of noble intellectualls wholly applyeth him­selfe unto it, the difficulty perswading the one to despise the Goodnesse, and the Goodnesse inducing the other to conquer the difficulties of it: so one man looking unto the paine of a vertuous life, con­temnes the reward; and another looking unto the Reward, endures the paine. And wee shall usually find it true, that either Lazinesse, fearing disap­pointment, or Love being disappointed and mee­ting with difficulties which it cannot conquer, doth both beget a kind of Hatred and dislike of that which did either deterre them from seeking it, or deceive them when they sought it. As shee, who while there was any Hope, did sollicite Ae­neas [Page 122] with her teares and importunities; when heAenead. 4. was quite gone did follow him with her impre­cations.

There is no Malice growes ranker than that which ariseth out of the corruption of Love; as no darkenesse is more formidable, than that of anArist. Politic. lib. 7. c. 7. Frat [...]rno pri mi maduerunt sanguine muris L [...]an. lib. 1. Eclipse, which assaults the very vessels of Light; nor any taste more unsavory than of sweet things when they are corrupted. The more naturall the Vnion, the more impossible the Re-union. Things joyned with glew, being broken asunder may be glewd againe; but if a mans Arme be broken off, it can never be joyned on againe: So those Ha­tredsPlutarch. de amore frat. are most incureable, which arise out of the greatest and most naturall Love.

[...]
Eurip. Medea.
[...]:
When Love of friends is turn'd to Wrath, besure
That Wrath is deepe, and scarce admits a Cure.

Another very usuall, but most evill cause of Hatred, is Injury, when a man because hee hath done wrong, doth from thence resolve to Hate him. Too many examples whereof there are in Writings both sacred and prophane: Ioseph [...] Mistresse first wronged him in assaulting his cha­stity, and then Hated him and caused him to be cast into prison. Ammon first abused his sister Tamar, and then Hated her worse than before hee loved her. Phadra having solicited Hippolitus [Page 123] her husbands sonne unto incest; being denyed, did after accuse him to his father, and procure his ruine. And Aristotle proposeth it as a Probleme,Probl. Sect. 4. Sect. 11. Why they, who corrupt and violate the chastity of any, doe after hate them? and gives this rea­son of it, because they ever after looke on them, as guilty of that shame and sadnesse, which in the sinne they contracted. This cause of Hatred Seneca and Tacitus have both observed as a thingProprium hu­mani inge [...]ii odisse quos la­ser [...]. [...]acit. vit. Agri. & Senec. de Ird l. 2. c. 33. usuall with proud and insolent men, first to Hurt then to Hate.

And the reason is first, because injurie is the way to make a man, who is wronged, an enemy; & the proper affection, which respecteth an enemy is Hatred. Againe, he who is wronged, if equall or above him that hath done the wrong, is then fea­red: and Oderunt quos metuunt, it is usuall to hate those whom we feare: if inferiour, yet the me­mory and sight of him doth upbraid with guilt, & affect with an unwilling & unwelcome review of the sinne, whereby he was wronged; and Pride scornes reproofe, and loves not to be under him in Guilt, whom it overtops in Power: for Inno­cence doth alwaies give a kind of superiority un­to the person that is wronged; besides, Hatred is a kind of Apologie for wrong: For if a man can perswade himselfe to hate him whom he hath in­jured, he will begin to beleeve that hee deserved the injury which was offered unto him; every man being naturally willing to find the first induce­ment unto his sinne, rather in another than him­selfe.

[Page 124]The next cause (which I shall observe) is Feare, I meane slavish Feare: for as Love excludeth Feare; so Feare begetteth Hatred; and it is ever seene: Qui terribiles sunt, timent: they that terri­fie others doe feare them, as well knowing that they are themselves hated: for as Aristotle spea­keth, Nemoquem metuit, amat; no man loves him whom he feares: which is the same with that of Saint Iohn, Love casteth out Feare: not a Reverend, submissive, awsull feare; not a cautelous, vigilant and obedient feare; not a feare of Admiration, nor a feare of Subjection; but a feare of slavery and of Rebellion, all flashes of Horrour, all the tos­sings and shipwracks of a torne mind, all the tremblings of a tormented spirit; briefely all evill and hurtfull feare. And this I beleeve is one principall reason of that malice and contempt of godlinesse, which shewes it selfe in the lives of Atheisticall and desperately wicked men, which as it ariseth out of the corruption of nature, so is it marveilously enraged by the fearefull expecta­tion of that siery vengeance, which their pale and guilty consciences doe already preoccupate; for as their conscience dictates, that they deserve to be hated by God; so their stubbornesse and malice concludes that they will hate him againe; Let us eate and drinke, for toomorrow we shall dye.

There may be a double root of this Feare out­ward and inward. The outward is the cruelty and oppression which we suffer from the potent, and thereupon the lesse avoidable malice of the per­son hated (as it was the speech of Caligula, Ode­rint [Page 125] dum metuant) And here in our Aversation (if it observe that generall rule of goodnesse in pas­sions, Subordination to Reason and Piety) is, not onely allowable, but naturall, while it extends it selfe no further than the Evil which we wrong­fully suffer. For I cannot but think that the spit­tle and scourges, the thornes and buffets, the reed and knees of those mocking and blasphe­mous Iewes were so many drops of that full Cup, which He, who knew no sinne, was so deepely de­sirous to have passe from him.

But then next, the inward root of Feare is the guilt and burthen of an uncleane and uncovered Conscience, for Pollution and weakenesse is na­ked, must needs be fearefull. And therefore that inference of Adam had truth in it, I was afraid, be­cause I was naked: for having disrobed himselfe of Originall righteousnesse, hee was thereupon a­fraid of the curse and summons of an offended ju­stice. Now from this feare may arise a double hatred; an hatred of a mans owne Conscience: for an evill man [...] as theEthic. lib. 9. cap. 4. [...]. Scholiast. in [...]ophecl. [...] dip. Ty [...]. Philosopher speakes, is not a friend unto him­selfe, but flies and labours to runne away from himselfe, and is never in so bad company, as when he is alone, because then he keeps company with his owne Conscience.

Which is the reason why some mens hatred of themselves hath proceeded so far, as to make themselves the Instruments of that small measure of Annihilation, which they are capable of. Wherein notwithstanding they discover, how [Page 126] farre their sury should extend against themselves if they were as omnipotent to effect, as they are ready to desire it: for he that hates a thing, would if he were able, pursue it even unto not being. There is no man but hath a naturall hatred of Toads, Serpents, Vipers, and the like venemous Creatures. And yet that man which hates them most, if his Conscience be naked and let loose to flye upon him, if that worme that never dies (un­lesse killed with our Saviours blood) begin tho­rowly to sting and gnaw him, would thinke him­selfe a wise Merchant, if he could exchange bee­ings with the worst of these. The Worme▪ and Viper of Conscience is of all the Creatures the most ugly and hatefull. A wicked man, when he doth distinctly know himselfe, doth love every thing, save God, better than himselfe.

—Diri conscia facti
Iuvenal.
Mens habet attonitos & surdo verbere cadit
Occultum quatiente animo tortore slagellum.
The mind being conscious of some dire offence,
Fils them with feares; a Torturer from thence
Shaketh, and with redoubled blowes doth urge
The unheard lashes of an hidden scourge.

Nor can I esteeme this a corrupt, though it be a miserable passion; for as a bad man is to him­selfe the worst, so is he by consequence the hate­fullest of all Creatures.

The second Hatred, which may arise from that [Page 127] Feare which is caused by a secret guilt of minde, is of all others most corrupt and rancorous, name­ly an hatred of the Authors or Executioners of Iustice; of the equity and justnesse of whose pro­ceedings, we are from within convinced; such as is the malice and blasphemy of malefactors a­gainst the Iudge, and of Devils and damned men against God and his righteous judgments, which yet they cannot but acknowledge that they most worthily doe endure: for it is the nature of proud and stubborne creatures (as was before observed) Odisse quos laserint, first to wrong God, and then to hate him.

Another particular cause of this passion may be a Disparity of Affections and Desires: for not­withstanding there bee many times Hatred where there is Similitude (as those beasts and birds com­monly hate one another, which feed upon the same common meat, as the Philosopher obser­veth)Hist. Animal. and sundry men hate their owne vices in o­thers, as if they had not the trade of sinne enough to themselves, except they got a Monopoly, and might ingrosse it; yet this ever proceeds from an apprehension of some ensuing inconveniences which are likely to follow there-from, as hath beene formerly noted: So that in that very si­militude of Natures, there is a disagreement of ends, each one respecting his owne private be­nefit.

Now the Corruptions herein are to be attended according to the Nature of that disparity where­on the passion is grounded; which sometimes is [Page 128] Morall, wherein it is laudable to hate the viti ous courses, in which any man differres from us, or we our selves from the right rule of Life; so that the passion redound not from the quality to the person, nor breake out into an endeavour of his disgrace and ruine, except it bee in such a case, when our owne dignity or safety, which wee are bound more to regard, being assaulted, is in danger to be betrayed, unlesse prevented by such a speedy Remedy. Sometimes this Disparity may be in actions Civill, and with respect to soci­ety: and then as the opposition, which hatred dis­covereth, may be principally seene in two things; Opposition of a mans Hopes, and of his Parts and abi­lities, by crossing the one, and undervalewing the other: So corruption may easily proceed from two violent and unreasonable grounds, Ambition and Selfe-love; the one pursuing its hopes, the other reflecting upon its worth. And to this par­ticular may be reduced, that Hatred, whichariseth out of a Parity of Desire, as amongst Competitors for the same Dignitie, or Corrivalls for the same Love, or Professours of the same Arte, either by reason of Covetousnesse, or Envy, or ambition, a greedy desire of their owne, or a discontented sight of anothers good.Mallem bic primus esse, quàm Rom [...] se­cundu [...]. Caesar de [...] quodam dum Alpes transi [...]t Pluiarc [...].

Nec quenquam jam ferre potest Caservè priorem
Pompeiusve, parem—
Thus two great Rulers doe each other hate,
Casar no Better brookes, Pompey no mate.

[Page 129]And these are very unfit affections for society, when private love of men to themselves shall de­voure the love which they owe unto their Coun­try.Plutarch. de g [...]rund: Rep. More noble was the behaviour of Themisto­cles, and Aristides, who when they were ever im­ployed in the publique service of State, left all their private enmities in the borders of their own Country, and did not resume them til they retur­ned, and became private menagaine.

The last cause which I shall observe of Hatred may bee a setled and permament Intuition of the object, a penetrating, jealous, and interpreting fancy: because by this means a redoubled search and review doth generate a kinde of habituall de­testation; it being the nature of Evill common­ly to shew worse at the second or third view. And that first, because the former Act doth worke a prejudice, and thereby the after apprehension comes not naked, but with a fore-stalled resolu­tion of finding Evill therein: and next, because from a serious and fastoned search into the Ob­ject the faculty gaineth a greater acquaintance with it, and by consequence a more vehement dislike of it, the former knowledge being a ma­ster and light unto the latter. But light and wan­dring fancies (though they may bee more sud­den in the apprehensive of Evill, and by conse­quence liable to an oftner Anger, yet by reason of the volubility of the minde joyned with an in­firmity and unexercise of memory, they are for this cause the lesse subject to deepe and rooted hatred.

[Page 130]Vnto this Head may bee referred that Hatred which ariseth from excessive Melancholy, which maketh men sullen morose, solitary, averse from all society, and Haters of the light, delighting onely like the Zeph. 2. 14. If. 34. 11 14, 15 Shrieke▪ Owle or the Bitterne in desolate places, and Matt [...] 8. 28. monuments of the dead▪ This is that which is called [...] de Neur [...] in M [...] [...] ▪ Pl [...]. lib. 8 c. 2 [...]. [...] Eclog 8. [...]. M [...]la de situ orb [...] l. 2 [...]erus de prae­ [...]g. d [...]mon. l. 3. c. 2 [...]. [...]. de Civ. Dei. l. 18. c. 17. Olaus [...] de Reg. Septen [...]r. lib. 18. c. 45. 46. 47. Lu [...]. in Asine. [...], when men fancy themselves transformed into Wolves and Dogs, and accordingly hate all Humane so­ciety. Which seemeth to have bin the distem­per of Dan. 5. 21. N [...]buchadnezar, when hee was [...]hrust out from men, and did eate grasse with the beasts. Ci [...]r. de A­mi [...]. & lib. 4. Tuscul. quaest. Suidas in Ti­mon. [...] lutarch [...] in Al [...]ibiade & A [...]tonie. La [...]t. in Ti­mone. [...]. Adve [...]. l. 24. cap. 33. Timon the Athenian was upon this ground bran­ded with the name of [...], The Man. Ha­ter, because he kept company with no man, but onely with Alcibiades, whereof he gave this on­ly account, because hee thought that man was borne to doe a great deale of mischiefe. And we read even in the So [...]. l. 4. c. 18. [...]. l▪ 4. cap. 26. [...]. lib. 5. c. 29. Histories of the Church, of men so marvelously averse from all converse or corres­pondence with men; that they have for their whole lives long, some of sixty, others of ninety yeares, immured themselves in Cels and silence, not affording to looke on the faces of their nee­rest kindred, when they travelled farre to visit them. So farre can the opinion of the minde, act­uated and furthered by the melancholy of the bo­dy, transport men even ou [...] of humane disposi [...] ­on, which the [...]. polit. lib. 1. cap. 2. Philosopher telleth us is natural­ly a lover of Society, and therefore he saith that such men are usually given to contention, the signe and the fruit of hatred.

CHAP. XIIII. Of the Quality and Quantity of Hatred, and how in either respects it is to bee regula­ted.

I Proceed now unto the considera­tion of this Passion in the Quan­tity and Quality of its Acts: which must bee observed accor­ding to the Evill of the Object: for if that be unchangeable, there is required a continual Permanency of the Passion in regard of the disposition of the Mind: or if it be Importuna [...]e and Affaulting, there is required a more frequent repetition of the Act. The same likewise is to bee said of the Quality of it; for if the Evill be of an Intense and more Invincible nature, our Hatred must arme us the more: if more Low and remisse, the Passion may bee the more negligent.

Hero then is a fourefould direction of the Quantities and Qualities of our Hatred, and it will hold proportion in the other passions. First the unalterablenesse of the Evill, warrants the continuance of our hatred. Secondly, the impor­tunity and insinuation of it warrants the Reitera­tion of our hatred. Thirdly, and fourthly, the greatnesse and the Remission of it requires a pro­portionable intention and moderation of hatred. [Page 132] We may instance for the three former in sinne, so much the worst of Evils, by how much it is a re­motion from the best of Goods.

First then Sinne is in its owne formall and ab­stracted nature, Vnchangeable, though not in re­spect of the subject, in whom it dwelleth; for a Creature now bad, may by the mercy of God bee repaired and restored againe; but this is not by a changing, but by a forsaking of Evill, by a re­moving of it, not by a new molding it into ano­ther frame. Sinne then remaineth in its owne Nature unchangeable and alwaies evill, and the reason is because it is a Transgression of a perpetu­all Law, and a Remotion from an unalterable Will: Sinne then is to bee hated with a continuall and peremptory hatred. But in other things there is according to the nature of their evils required a conditionall and more flexible dislike, they being evils that have, either some good annexed unto them; or such as are of a mutable nature. And therefore wee see that in most things the variety of Circumstances doth alter the good or evill of them, and so makes the passions thereabout con­versant, alterable likewise. Otherwise men may naturally deprive themselves of those contents and advantages, which they might receive by rea­sonable use of such indifferent things as they for­merly for inconveniences now removed, did dis­like. And in Morality likewise much dammage might be inferred, both to private persons and to the publique by nourishing such private enmities and being peremptory in continuing those for­mer [Page 133] differences, which, though happily then en­tertained upon reasonable grounds, may yet after­wards prove so much the more harmefull, by how much the more danger is to be feared from the di­stemper of a growne and strong, than of a vani­shing and lighter passion.

Secondly, Againe as no evill altogether so un­changeable as Sinne, so is there nothing so much to be opposed with a Multiplicity and Reiteration of our hatred in regard of its importunity and insi­nuation, that as there is an impudence in the as­sault, so there may be a proportionable resoluti­on in the withstanding of it: Some Evils there may be, which require onely a present and not a customary exercise of this passion. Present I say when the Object is offensive and not customary; because as the Object, so the Passion likewise may be unusuall. Sinne onely is of all other evils the most urging and active, furnished with an infinite number of st [...]atagems and plausible impostures to insinuate into natures (though best armed a­gainst such assaults; and therefore here onely are necessary such reiterated acts, as may keepe us ever on our guard, that we be not unprepared for a surprize.

Thirdly, Then for the Quantity of an Evill, be­cause that is not in any thing so intense as in Sinne whither wee consider it in its owne Nature, as a Rebellion against the highest good, or in its ef­fects; either in regard of the diffusion of it, it being an overspreading pollution, or of the vast­nesse of it, both in Guilt and Punishment: In [Page 134] these respects our Hatred of it cannot be too deep or rooted: whereas other evils are not so intense in their nature, nor so diffusive in their Exten­sion, nor so Destructive in their Consequents; and therefore do not require an unlimited Passi­on, but one governed according to the Exigence of Circumstances.

And here I shall take notice of one or two parti­culars touching the manner of corruption in this particular. As first when a man shal apply his Ha­tred of Prosequution, or ill willing against that E­vill, which is the proper object onely of Aversati­on: for some things there are onely of conditio­nall evills, which hurt not by their own absolute being, but by their particular use or presence, which being offensive onely in their applicati­on requires a particular forbearance, not any fur­ther violence to their natures.

Secondly, a Corruption in regard of Intension [...] Sophoc. A [...]ax. is either when the passion admits not of any ad­mixtion of Love, when yet the object admits of an admixtion of good; or when the hatred is ab­solute against onely relative Evills. There is not any man betwixt whose naturall faculties and some particular courses or objects, there is not some manner of antipathy and disproportion (it being the Providence of divine dispensation so variously to frame and order mens fancies, as that no man shall have an Independance or selfe suffi­ciency, no [...] say unto the other members I have no need of you; but there should bee such a mu­tuall Ministry and assistance amongst men, as [Page 135] whereby might bee ever upheld those essentiall vertues of humane society, Vnity and Charity, no mann being able to liue without the aide of o­thers; nor to upbraid others with his owne ser­vice. Now in this case, if any man, who either out of the narrownesse and incapacity, or out of the reluctancy and antipathy of his owne mind, is indisposed for some courses of life or study, shall presently fall to a professed vilifying of them, or to an undervalewing of Persons, who with a more particular affection delight in them, or to a desire of the not being of them, as things utterly unusefull, because hee sees not what use himselfe can have of them, he doth herein disco­ver as much absurdity in so peremptory a dislike as a blinde man should doe in wishing the Sunne put out, not considering that hee himselfe recei­veth benefit at the second hand from that very light, the beauty whereof hee hath no immediate acquaintance withall.

For as too excessively to doate on the fancie of any particular thing may prove harmefull, as ap­peareth in the Poeticall fable of Midas, whose un­satiable desire to have every thing that he touch­ed turned to gold, starved him with hunger; and so what hee out of too excessive loue made his Idoll, became his ruine; (as many men need none other enemy to undoe them than their owne de­sires.) So on the other side, the extreame Hatred of any thing may be equally inconvenient; as we see intimated in that other fable of the servants, who when they had, out of an extreme malice a­gainst [Page 136] the poore Cock, at whose early crow, their covetous master every day roused them unto their labour, killed him, and so (as they thought) gotten a good aduantage to their lazinesse, were every day by the vigilancy of their master, whose Couetousnesse now began to crow earlier than his Cock, called from their sleepe sooner than they are before; till at length they began to wish for that, which the rashnesse and indiscreti­on of their hatred had made away. And there­fore when we goe about any thing out of the di­ctates of Passion, it is a great point of Wisedom, first to consider whither we our selves may not af­terwards be the first men, who shall wish it un­done againe.

CHAP. XV. Of the Good and Evill Effects of Hatred. Cau­telousnesse and Wisedome to profit by that we hate, with Confidence, Victory, Refor­mation. Hatred is Generall against the whole kind, Cunning, Dissimulation, Cru­elty, running over to Persons Innocent, vi­olating Religion. Envie, Rejoycing at Evill. Crooked Suspition. Contempt. Con­tumely.

I Now proceed to the Conse­quents or Effects of this Passi­on: And first for the usefull and profitable Effects thereof, which may be these.

First, a Cautelousnesse and fruit full Wisedome for our own welfare to prevent dan­ger, and to reape benefit from that, which is at en­mitie with us. For we shall observe in many evils that no man is brought within the danger, who [...]s not first drawne into the love of them. All in­ordinate corruptions then most desperately wound the Soule, when they beguile and entan­gle it. But the greatest use of this Caution is toQuod de [...] obs [...] ­vavit. Plutar [...] lib. de será nu minis▪ [...] [...] ali­q [...]n lo pro re­medi [...]uit. Sen de Bene [...]. l. 2. c. 18. learne how to benefit by the Hatred of others, and [...]s learned Physitians doe, to make an Antidote of Poyson. For as many venemous creatures are [Page 138] by Arte used to cure the wounds, and repaire the injuries, which themselves had made (Naturall Attraction, as it were, calling home that poyson which injurie and violence had misplaced:) So the malice and venome of an Enemy may by wis­dome be converted into a Medicine, and by ma­naging become a benefit, which was by him in­tended for an injury. Or to use the excellent si­militudePlutarch. de Capiend. ex ho­stibus ut [...] lit. Coel. Khodigin. Antiq. lect. l. 5. cap. 17. of Plutarch, As healthy and strong beasts doe eate and concoct Serpents, whereas weake stomacks do nauseate at delicates: so wise men do exceedingly profit by the hatred of their enemies, whereas fooles are corrupted with the love of their friends; ond an injury doth one man more good, then a courtesie doth another. As Wind and Thunder when they trouble the Ayre, doe withall purge it; whereas a long calme doth dispose it to putrifaction: or as the same Whet­stone that takes away from a weapon, doth like­wise sharpen it; so a Wise man can make use of the detraction of an enemy to grow the brighter and the better by it. And therefore when [...] advised that Carthage should be utterly destroy­ed, Scipio Nascica perswaded the contrary upon these reasons, that it was needful for Rome to have alwaies some enemies, which by a kind of antipeFlorus. lib. 2. ristasis might strengthen & keep alive its vertue, which otherwise by security might be in dange [...] of languishing and degenerate into luxury. Fo [...] 1 Sam. 13. [...]0. as the Israelites, when there was no Smith a­mongst them did sharpen their instruments with the Philistins; so indeed an enemy doth serve to [Page 139] quicken and put an edge upon those vertues, which by lying unexercised might contract rust and dullnesse, and many times when the reasons of the thing it self will not perswade, the Feare of giving advantage to an Enemy, or of gratifying him, will over-rule a man, lest hereby he give his soes matter of Insultation.

Hoc Ithacus velit & magno mercentur Atridae.
This makes our foes rejoyce, they would have bought
With a great price those crimes we doe for nought.

Thus as a Sink by an house makes all the house the cleaner, because the Sordes are cast into that: Or as they observe that Roses and Violets are sweetest, which grow neare unto Garlick and o­ther strong sented Herbes, because these draw a­way unto them any fetid or noxious nourish­ment: so the eye and nearenesse of an enemy ser­veth by exciting Caution and diligence to make a mans life more fruitfull and orderly, then other­wise it would have beene, that we may take away occasion from them that would speake reproach­fully. And thus Hector sharpely reproving the Cowardice of his brother Paris (who had beene the onely cause of the Warre and calamity) when he fled from Menelaus, draweth his rebuke from hence, and telleth him that he was,

[...]
Iliad. [...]. 51.
[...] &c.
To Father, City, People, losse and blame;
Ioy to his foes, and to himselfe a shame.

Secondly, Hatred worketh Confidence and some Presumption and good assurance of our owne, or some assisting strength against evils. Which ariseth first out of the former: for Cau [...] ­lousnesse or Furniture against the onset of evil can­not but make the mind more resolute in its owne defence, than if it were left naked without Assi­stance. Againe, of all others, this is one of the most confident Passions, because it moves not out of sudden perturbations, but is usually seconded and backt with Reason, as the Philosopher ob­serves;Rb [...]r. l. 2. c. 4. and ever the more Counsell, the more Con­fidence. Besides, being a deepe and severe Passion, it proportionably calleth out the more strength to execute its purposes. There is no Passion, that intendeth so much evil to another, as Hatred; An-ger would onely bring Trouble; but Hatred, Mis­chiefe; Anger would onely Punish and Retaliate, but Hatred would Destroy; for as the Philosophe [...] notes, it seeketh the not being of what it Hates. A man may be Angry with his friend, but hee hates none but an enemy; and no man can will so much hurt to his friend, as to his enemy. Now the more hurt a passion doth intend, the more strength it must call out to execute that intention; and ever the more strength the more Confidence.

Thirdly it worketh some manner of Victory o­ver the evill hated: for Odium semper sequitur [...] [Page 141] animi elatione, as Scaliger out of Aristotle hath ob­served, It ever ariseth out of pride and height of mind [...]. Injury ever comes from some strength, and is a kind of Victory. For so farre forth as one is able to hurt another, he is a­bove him. And this effect holds principally true in morall and practick courses; wherein I think it is a generall Rule: Hee in some measure loves an evill, who is overcome by it: for conquest in this nature is on the Will, which never chooseth an object till it love it. There onely we can have perfect conquest of sinne, where will be a perfect hatred of it. Here, in the best, there is but an in­compleat restauration of Gods Image: the body of nature and the body of finne are borne, and must die together.

Fourthly, it hath a good effect in regard of the evill hated in reasonable Creatures, namely the Reformation of the person, in whom that evill was. For as countenance and incouragement is the fo­sterer; so Hatred and contempt serveth sometimes as Phisick to purge out an evill. And the reason is because a great part of that goodnesse, which is apprehended to be in sinne, by those that pur­sue it, is other mens approbation. Opinion puts valew upon many uncurrent Coynes, which passe rather because they are receiued, than because they are warrantable. And therefore if a man na­turally desirous of credit see his courses general­ly disliked, he can hardly so unnature himselfe, as still to to feed on those vanities, which hee seeth doe prouoke others unto loathing, though I con­fesse, [Page 142] it is not a perswasions of mens, but of Gods hatred of sinne, which doth worke a genuine and thorow Resormation.

I now proceed to observe those Effects, which are corrupt and hurtfull: and here wee may ob­serve,

First, the rule of Aristotle, whose maxime it is, that Hatred is alwaies [...] against the whole kinde of its object▪ so then all the actions and effects of this Passion are corrupt, which are not Generall, but admit of private Reservations and Indulgences. For since tho nature and extent of the passion is ever considered with reference to its object, there must needs bee irregularity in that affection, when it is conversant about an uni­forme nature with a various and differing moti­on. And this is manifestly true in that, which I made the principall object of a right hatred, Sin. In which, though there is no man, which finds not himselfe more obnoxious and open to one kind than another (it being the long experienced policie of the Devill to observe the diverse con­ditions of mens natures, constitutions, callings, and imployments; and from them to proporti­on the quality of his insinuations upon the will;) insomuch that a man may here in happily deceive himselfe with an opinion of loathing some evils, with which, either his other occasions suffer him not to take acquaintance, or the difficulty in compassing, disgrace in practising, or other preju­dices perswade to a casuall dislike thereof, yet I say it is certaine, that if a mans Hatred of Sinne be [Page 143] not [...] an Vniversall and transcendent Ha­tred against all sinne, even those which his perso­nall relations make more proper unto him, if hee doth still retaine some privy exceptions, some re­served and covered delights, be his pretences to others, or his perswasions to himselfe what they will, this is rather a personated than a true hatred a meteor of the braine, than an affection of the Soule. For as in the good, so in the ill of things; notwithstanding there seeme to be many contra­rieties and dissimilitudes (as Seneca saith) Scelera dissident, that sinnes do disagree; yet indeed there is in that very contrariety such an agreement a­gainst God (as in Herod and Pilate against Christ) as admits not of any, in order unto God, but a gathered and united passion. And hence is that of Saint Iames, Hee that offendeth in one is guilty of all; because in that one hee contemneth that O­riginall Authority which forbad all. There are no tearmes of consistence betweene love and ha­tred divided upon the same uniforme Object. It is not the materiall and blind performance of some good worke, or a servile and constrained o­bedience to the more bright and convicting parts of the Law, that can any more argue, either our true love to the Precept, or our hatred to the Sinne, than a voluntary patience under the hand of a Chirurgion can prove, either that we delight in our owne paine, o [...] Abhorre our owne flesh. It is not Gods Witnesse within us, but his Word without us; not the Tyrannie of Conscience, but the goodnesse of the Law that doth kindly and [Page 144] genuinely restraine the violence, and stop the E­ruptions of our defiled nature. Or though per­haps Feare may prevent the exercise and sprou­tings, nothing but Love can pluck up the root of sinne. A Lacedemonian endeavouring to make aPlutarch. [...]. La [...]on. dead carcasse stand upright as formerly it had done while it was alive, and not effecting it, con­cluded that outward meanes would availe little except there were something Within to support it. It is certainely so in actions as it is in bodies. Feare as an outward prop may helpe a while to keepe them up, but Love is the inward forme and life of them, without which they will quickly faint and fall againe.

Secondly, Another evill effect of hatred is a close and cunning Dissimulation in suppressing of it,Vide Sen [...]. Epist. 103. and palliating it with pretences of fairenesse and plausibility, till it have a full advantage to put forth it selfe. For by this meanes is the passion strengthned, and the Person, whom it respects, weak­ned: this by incautelousnesse and Credulity; (for common Charity, when it sees no signes of ma­lice, will not easily suspect it) that by Restraint and Suppression; for any thing the more united, the more weighty it is: and as Winde, so Passi­ons, the closer it is pent, the more strength it ga­thereth▪ Plutarch compareth it unto fire raked un­der ashes, and reserved untill another day, when we have some use of it. Which disposition the Historian hath often observed in Tiberius (whose principall vertue was Dissimulation) who being offended in the Senate with some [Page 145] words spoken by Hatevius and Scaurus; the Hi­storians observation upon it is this. In Hat [...]vium statim invectus; Scaurum, cui implacabilius irasce­batur, Tacit. A [...]al. lib. 1. silentio tramisit. The one he rebuked; but the other whom he more implacably hated, hee passed by with silence. And elsewhere upon oc­casion, Quae in praesens civiliter habuit, sed in ani­mo revolvente ir as, etiamsi impetus affectionis lan­gu [...]rat▪ memoria val [...]bat. Though hee seemed toAnal. lib. 4. Sta [...]it [...] odium donet impetus [...] [...] savor [...] langueret d [...] Do [...]n▪ in vita. Agric. take what was spoken courteously, yet hee laid it up in his minde, and though the heate of Passion, by being suppressed, did languish, the memory and grudge remained strong still. In which words the Historian hath expressed that excellent description of the same quality in Homer.

[...]
Iliad x. 81. Dieg. La [...]. l. 7 [...] [...]ripid. Me­d [...]a. 119.
[...]
[...]
[...]
L [...]w men with a Kings wrath are quite opprest,
For though he seeme the same day to digest
The [...]eate of's Passion, yet he still reserves
Close Anger in his breast, till fit time serves.

Whereunto agreeth that of the Tragedian,

Ira quaetegitur, n [...]
Senec. Traged. Med [...].
Professa perdunt odia vindictae locum.
Anger thats hid gives surer blowes.
A [...]erta Odia pal [...] de pell [...], [...] & do­ [...]um Obscu [...], [...]eque in [...]vita bi [...]ia. Tacit. Hist. lib. 4. Plutarch. A. pop [...]ib. & in Fabi [...].
But profest hate doth revenge lose.

And therefore Hanniball was wont to say that hee was more afraid of Fabius when hee did no­thing, than of Marcellus when he did fight, of the one mans closenesse, than of the others boldnesse▪

And the reason why of all the Passions this o [...] hatred can thus smother and suppresse it selfe is, because it doth not affect the heart with troubl [...] or sadnesse (which affection the soule loves no [...] Aristotle, & [...]venal. V [...]ndicta ma­l [...]m quo non [...] ul­l [...]. long to hold fast) but with a perverse joy and de­light in pondring the contrivances of Revenge (which the Philosopher and the Poet have place [...] among the Objects of Delight.)

Now of all the waies whereby this passion i [...] supprest, the most hatefull to God and man i [...] when men doe palliare and shrowd their mali [...] under pretences of Love, and praise men unto [...] ­ine.Aelian. de A­ [...]imal [...] 40. Like the Panther which with his swe [...] breath allureth other Creatures to come un [...] him, and when they are come, devoureth the [...] Pessimum inimicoru [...] genus la [...]dantes, of all kind [...] [...] Sophoc. in Aiai. of enemies those are the worst, which as the Pr [...] ­phet speakes, doe break [...] mens heads with oyle, a [...] make a poyson of their owne merits to kill the [...] with praises, as Achilles spake in the Poet.

[...]
Iliad. [...]. 313. Salust. in [...]il.
[...].
That man's as odious to me as hell gates,
Who with his mouth speakes faire, with his heart hates.

And it was wicked counsell which Theog nis gave to his Cyrnus, amongst so many sage and morall precepts, like a dead flye in a pot of oynt­ment.

[...]
[...]
Fawne on thy Foe, till he be in thy will,
Then, without Reasons give revenge her fill.

It is a quality of all others most distant from [...]. Soph [...]. [...]bid. noblenesse and ingenuitie of mind, for generous spirits will acknowledg with honour and love the vertues of their enemies; as Fabritius Lucinus, A. Gilli [...]. lib. 4 cap. 8. when many were competitours for the Consul­ship gave his suffrage to Cornelius Ruff [...]nus, the worthiest of the Company, though hee were his bitter enemie: and Caesar caused the demollished statues of Pompey to be erected againe, not suffe­ [...]ingPlutarch, de capium ex h [...] ­st▪ bu [...] [...]. Hom [...] [...] a. 48. [...] T [...]ogn. the honor of so brave a Commander (though his enemie) to bleed and languish under his eye. Whereupon Cicero told him that in restoring the Statues of Pompey▪ he had fastned and made sure his owne. And Publius Scipio made none other use of his Enmity with Tiberius Gracchus, than to dispose his daughter unto him in marriage, be­causeAu [...] G [...]ll. l. 12. c. 8. Liv. li [...]. 38. at that time when he was sure to judg with least favour and partiality, he found him to bee a [Page 148] vertuous and deseruing man. And the Emperour Adrian, to shew that he esteemed Hatred retained a base and un-princely disposition, as soone as hee came to the Empire, he layd aside all his former enmities, in so much as then meeting one, who had beene his capitall enemy, he said unto him, [...] [...]. in Hadrian. Evasisti, thou art now escaped from my displea­sure.

Thirdly, Another evill effect of Hatred is cru­elty; for it [...]. seeketh (as I noted out of the Phi­losopher) the Not-being of that which it hates▪ and therefore among the Egyptians, a D [...]g. [...]. lib. 7. Clem. Alex. Padag. l. 1. c. 8. Cle [...]. Alex. Strom. lib. 5. & lib. 1. Fish was the Hieroglyphick of Hatred, because of all Creatures they doe most devoure one another. And thus Achilles in the Poet expresseth his ha­tred of Hector, when he befought him to bestow upon his dead body an honourable buriall.

[...]
Iliad [...] 345.
[...]
I would my mind would give me leave to gnaw
Thy Flesh in morsells and to eate it raw.

And the like like expressions we finde of the cruelty of Tiberius, a man full of rancour.

Fastidit vinum, quia jam sitit iste Cruore,
[...] Tiber. c. 19.
Tam bibit hunc avidè, quàm bibit antè merum.
He loaths all Wine for Blood, & now with mo [...]
Greedy delight drinkes this than that before.

[Page 149]Hatred contenteth not it selfe with the death of an Enemie, but is many times prodigious in the manner of it, and after out-lives that which it hateth, insulting with pride and indignities over the dead bodie which cannot complaine, nor otherwise, but by its owne loath somnesse revenge [...] ▪ de Ca lig. & in [...]. [...]. [...]1. it selfe. Caligula, that monster of men, when hee commanded any to bee slaine, gave this charge with it, It a feri ut se m [...]ri sentiat, that hee should perish with such lingring blows, as that he might feele himselfe to dye. And he often commandedIb. in Calig. aged men to stand by and looke upon the slaugh­ter of their children, and after would force themSenec. de Ir [...]. lib. 2. c. 33. unto mirth and feasting, for feare of their others which were left alive; for to have mourned for one, would have forfeited the others. And for in­dignities [...]. [...]. Aiax. Taci [...]. hist. lib. 1 offered unto dead bodies, there is no­thing, which more frequently occurreth. The Philistines cut off the head of Saul and sent it in Triumph up and downe their Country. And the Historian notes of Otho that he never looked withCapita hostiu [...] in [...] [...] [...], Apud I [...]st. lib. 14. Vir [...]. [...] [...] ▪ &. [...]. [...] [...]. more insatiable delight upon any spectacle, than the head of Piso his enemy. So when the Greci­ans saw the dead body of Hector, every man (as the Poet describes it) did bestow a stab, and a con­tempt upon it. But above all most hatefull was the cruelty of Marc. Antonius and his wife Ful­via, shewed on the dead body of Cicero the glory of the Romane eloquence, they cut off his head and his hands, setting them in contempt, where he was wont to deliver those excellent Orations; from whence they tooke it to their Table, and [Page 150] Fulvia cursing it and spitting upon it, pulled outPe [...]. Cri [...]it. lib. 1. cap. 8. Pl [...]tarch. [...] [...]. the tongue (which all ages have admired) out of the mouth, and pricked it full of holes with her needle or bodkin; to shew that malice would ever doe mischiefe to a man in his noblest and highest treasure▪ as we see in that desperate Ita­lian, who having his enemy in his mercy, first made him (in hope to escape) to renounce his religion and salvation, and then presently slew him▪ that as farre, as was in his power, hee might kill his soule, as well as his body.

But yet further Hatred doth not content it selfSe [...]t. Titi [...]s quod habuit [...] [...] [...] d [...] ­mi s [...]a▪ [...]. ci [...]. pro Rabini [...]. to be Cruell to the person hated, but runneth over from him unto others, that have any relation to him, though never so innocent: As we see in Ha­man, who though onely displeased with the ne­glect of Mordecai, thought scorne to lay hands on him alone, and therefore plotted the ruine of all the Iewes. And it is noted by Historians, that when Sejanus fell, the storme lighted on his Fami­lyTacit. Ana [...]. lib. 5. 6. Su [...] ▪ Tib [...]. [...]1. Anal. lib. 15. Plutarc [...]. de cap. ex [...]st. [...]. Q. Curt. lib. 7. and friends as well as on himself: as is also ob­served in the punishment of the conspiracy a­gainst Nero detected by Millichus. And Themi­st [...]cles (though innocent) was like to have suffe­red in a crimination of Treason, onely for being a friend unto Pausanias. Yea so over flowing is this Quality, that it will sometimes strike a friend ra­ther than not reach an enemy. It was a wickedI [...] de Adul [...]t. & Ami [...]. [...]. In [...]. pro [...]ession of Darius, Pereat cum inimico [...], Let my friend rather perish with mine Enemy, than mine Enemy escape by my friend. And hence it is observed of Aristides, that he was wont to pro­pose [Page 151] such advices as hee knew did conduce unto publick weale by some other men and not from himselfe, least Themistocles out of hatred of his person, should have withstood and impedimen­ted a generall good. But Ajax in the Poet went yet higher.

[...]
Sop [...]oc. in Aiac.
[...]
So I may slay mine Enemy,
Let the same ruine swallow me.

And the principall reasons of this over flowingForsan [...]utu­rus [...] [...] patris. Senec. [...]. of hatred are Feare and Cowardice; for he, who ha­teth the Father, and sheweth cruelty unto him, doth usually feare the Sonne, lest he rise up in his fathers quarrell: and hence is that maxime of cruell policy,

[...].
S [...]asinus apud Clem. Alex. Str [...]m. 6. Hom. Odyss. [...]. 307. Odium etiam Ti [...]or sp. rat. Tertul. Ap [...]l. cap. 26. Vlc [...] [...] [...]x [...] [...] consu [...]um. Am. Marc. l. 27. & A [...]ist. [...] ▪ lib. 2.
That man's unwise who doth the father slay,
And leaves the Sonnes his quarrell to repay.

For wee know Orestes revenged his fathers quarrell and blood upon Aegisthus.

And besides cruelty doth usually proceed from cowardice, as Amianus Marcellinus hath ob­served, and fearefull men, when they have any ad­vantage to be cruell, doe seldome hold any mea­sure therein, as being ever in doubt, if they leave [Page 152] any fire unquenched, that themselves shall bee burned with it. And therefore wee never read of any Emperours, which were more cruell, than those who were most fearefull and effeminate, as [...]. de I [...]a lib. 1. c. 13. Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, Commodus, &c. As they say that wounded beasts, when they die, bite har­dest;Maximè [...] esse so­tent morsus [...] [...]. Flo­r [...] lib. 2. c. 15. their feare and despaire making them fu­rious: So there is no wrath or Cruelty to that which proceeds from weaknesse, when it hath either jealousie, or advantage, or despaire to set it on. Yea, so violent it is, that it hath transported men unto profanesse, and made them violate Na­ture and Religion. As wee see in the cruelty of Tiberius towards the family of Sejanus, who, be­causeSu [...]t. Tiber c. 6 [...] it was an unheard and prodigious thing forTacit. Anal. i. 5 a little tender virgin to be strangled, gave com­mand that the daughter of that late Favourite, should first be defloured, that so shee might bee the fitter to bee slaine. And Boniface the eighthPet. C [...]init. lib. 7. c. 13. Pope of that name being, according to the Cere­mony of that Church, on Ash-wednesday to sprinkle ashes on the heads of such Bishops, as kneeled at his feet, and in some serious manner to mind them of their mortalities; when Proche­tus Bishop of Genua, whom he bitterly hated, ten­dered himselfe at his fees to receive this Cere­mony, he threw the Ashes in his eyes, with this benediction, A Gebelline thou art, and as a Gibel­line thou shalt die: so powerfull was his malice to profane the rites of his religion! Yea, so farre will hatred proceed in this desperate contempt of God, that, if we may beleeve so prodigious a vil­lany, [Page 153] it hath somtimes turned the very cup of the Lord into a Cup of poyson: as it is reported of Pope Victor the third, that he was poysoned in theMartin. apud [...]. in vit. P [...]nt. 3. Chalice at the Communion. Nether have there been wanting Examples of desperate men, who have made the most holy parts of Religion, Vowes, and Sacraments, the Seales and Pledges of their conspiracies in Malice: as once Catiline Salust. in Cat. Florus lib. 4. Dion. lib. 37. Plut. in lice [...]. & in Poplico [...]d. and his associates did animate themselves in their bloudy purposes, with drinking the bloud of a slaine Childe.

Now of all Hatreds, there are none more furious and unnaturall than those which arise out of contrarieties in Religion; because as a Stone, the higher the place is from whence it fals, doth give the more dangerous blow: no wound's so mortall, as that of a Thunder-bolt: so of all other those Hatreds which make pretences unto Heaven, and which arise from motives of the highest Nature, are ever most desperate and mortall. And there­fore our Saviour tels us, that in this case men would forget all the bonds of naturall Obligati­on; insomuch that the Father would deliver his owne Childe, and the Children their Parents unto death. As we find that the bloudy Hatred of Cain against Abel arose from the different acceptance of their Sacrifices. Neither is it any wonder if that enmity grow excessive, which hath Zeale to kindle it, and pretence of Religion to warrant it: For when that which should restraine and set li­mits to a Passion, is made a party to ingage it, and sewell to foment it, no wonder if a Passion [Page 154] which hath no bounds from Religion, do impose [...] t [...]nere in [...]o dissi [...]ile est quod b [...]num esse [...]. [...]. Ep. 23. Plut. de Isi [...]. & O [...]od. [...]. none upon it selfe. And this occasion of mutuall Hatred, wee finde observed even in the ridiculous superstitions of Egypt, when one Towne would kill and eat the flesh of another in zeale to the Sheep, or Calves, or Dragons, which they did se­verally worship.

—Summus utrin (que)
Inde furor vulgo qùod Numina vicinorum,
Odit uter (que) locus.
This caus'd their rage, this made their great de­bate:
One Towne did worship what the next did hate▪

Another dangerous effect of Hatred is Envy and Malignitie at the sight of anothers happines;A [...]ist. Rbe [...]or. lib. 2. cap. 10. Plut. de Odi [...] & I [...]vidia. and therefore Envy is called an Evill Eye, because all the diseases of the Eye make it offended with any thing that is light and shineth; as Vermine doe ever devoure the purest Corne, and Moaths eat into the finest Cloath, and the Cantharides blast the sweetest Floures. So doth Envy ever gnaw that which is most beautifull in another whom it hateth; and as the Vulture, drawethAelian. de Animal. lib. 3 c. 7. lib. 4 c. 18. sicknesse from a perfume. For such is the condi­tion of a rankorous Nature; as of a raw and angry wound, which feeles as great paine in the good of a Chirurgions, as in the ill offices of an Ene­mies hand, it can equally draw nourishment unto this Passion from the good and ill of whom it hates; yea and commonly greater too from the good than from the ill: For, Odiorum [...] [Page 155] causa quand [...] iniquae: When Hatred is built upon a bad foundation, it commonly raiseth it self the higher. And the reason is, because in Passions of this Nature, the lesse we have from the Object, the more we have from our selves, and what is de­fective to make up our malice in the demerit of him whom wee hate, is supplyed by the rising of our owne stomacke: as we see in the body that thin and empty nourishment will more often swell it than that which is substantiall.

And therefore I thinke there are not any Ex­amples of more implacable Hatred, than those that are by Envy grounded on Merit. As Tacitus Tacitus. observes between the passages of Domitian and Agricola, that nothing did so much▪ strengthen the Emperours hatred against that worthy Man, as the generall report of his honourable behavi­our and actions in those military services, where­in hee had been imployed. And the same likewise he intimates in the affections of Tiberius and Piso towards Germanicus. Plutar. lib. de R [...]p. Gerendâ.

It is wisely therefore observed by the Histo­rian, That men of vast and various imployments, have usually the unhappinesse of Envy attending them, which therefore they have sometimes de­clined by retyring and withdrawing themselves from continuall addresses, as a wise mariner, who (as he spake) doth aliquantulum remittere Clavum [...] magnam fluctus vim. And thus we finde the ho­nour which Davids merits procured him, which was the foundation of that implacable Hatred of Saul towards him. For as in naturall mo­tions, [Page 156] that which comes from the faithest ex­treme, is most swift and violentiso in the moti­ons of the Minde, the further off wee fetch the reason of our Hatred, the more venomous and im­placable it is.

And here we may observe the mutuall and in­terchangable services, which corrupt affections exercise amongst themselves: For as Philosophy observes in the generation of those cold Mete­ors which are drawne to the middle region of the Aire, they are first by the coldnesse of the place congealed, and afterward doe by the like impressions fortify and intend the same quality in the Region: so here Hatred first generates Envy; and this againe doth reciprocally increase Hatred, and both ioyne in mischiefe. So much the more hurtfull to the Soule, wherein they are, than to the Enemy whom they respect, by how much they are more neer and inward thereunto: for certainly a malignant humour doth most hurt where it har­boureth.

From this followeth another evill Effect, [...] L [...]er. l [...] Zen. lib. 7. Plutarch. de C [...]riosit. Arist. Ethic. lib. 2. cap. 7. Mag. Mor. cap. 2 [...]. Prov. 17. 5. [...]4. 17. which I will but name, being of the same Nature with Envy; and it is that which Philosophers call [...] a rejoycing at the calamity of him whom wee hate, a quality like that of those who are reported to have Culi [...] Rhod. Antiq. lect. lib. 6. cap. 35. been nourished with poyson. For as in Love there is a mutuall par­taking of the same loyes and Sorrowes (for where the will and affections are one, the senses are in some sort likewise) so Hatred ever worketh con­trarietie of affections: That which worketh [Page 157] Griefe unto the one, doth worke Ioy unto theDi [...]g. L [...]rt. l. [...]. other. And therefore Thales being asked how a Man might bee cheerfull and beare up in afflicti­ons, answered: If hee can see his enemies in worse case than himselfe. The Poet hath given us the Character of such kinde of Men:

Pectora selle virent, Lingua est suff [...]sa ve [...]eno:
Risus abest, nisi quem visi fecere Dol [...]res.
Their breasts with gall, their tongues with venome flow:
They laugh not, till they see men brought to woe.

And therefore they are elegantly compared by the Philosopher unto Cupping Glasses, which draw onely the vitious humours of the body unto them, and unto Flies that are overcome with the spirits of Wine, but nourished with the froth. Like those Wormes which receive their Life from the corruption of the Dead. And surely, the Prince of Devils may well have his Name given him from Ecclz [...]. Math. 12. 24. [...] v [...]rtunt 70. 2. Reg. 1. 3. [...] a [...]d Pa [...]san. lib. 5. & Clem. Alex. in Pro­treps. Myiode [...] v [...] ­cat Plin. l. 29. cap. 6. Flies, because hee taketh most pleasure in the ulcers and wounds of Men, as Flies ever resort unto Sores.

Another corrupt Effect of Hatred is a sinister and crooked suspition, whereby with an envious and criticall Eye we search into the actions and purposes of another; and according as is the sharpnesse of our owne wits, or the course of our owne behaviour and practices, we attribute unto them such ends as were haply never framed but in the forge of our owne braines: Evill men [Page 158] being herein like Vultures, which can receive none but a foule Sent. It is attributed amongst one of the noble Attributes of Love, that it Thinketh none Evill: and certainly, there is not a fouler quality against Brotherly Love, than that which (for the satisfying of it selfe in (but the Imaginary Evill of him whom it disliketh) will venture to finde out in every action some close impiety, and pierce into the reserved and hidden passages of the heart: like him in the Philosopher, who thought where ever hee went, that hee saw his owne Picture walke before him. And there fore we see how Agrippina when she would not dis­cover any shew of Feare or Hatred towards her Sonne Ner [...], who had at the first plotted her death on the Sea; and that fayling, sent the se­cond time Anicaetus the Centurion to make sure worke, did in both these practices decline all shew of suspition, and not acknowledge either the Engine or the Murther to be directed by him. Solum Insidiar [...]m remedium aspiciens, si non in­telligerentur. Tacit. A [...]al. lib [...]4. Supposing the onely remedies of these plots to bee, if shee seemed not to under­stand them. For ill meanings doe not love to be found out. As the same Historian telleth us of Tiberius, Acrius accepit recludi quae premeret: Hee hated that man who would venture to dive in­to his thoughts. And certainly there is not any crooked Suspition which is not rooted in Hatred. For as to thinke the worst of our owne Actions, is a signe of Hatred to our sinnes (for I thinke no man loves his sinnes who dares search them:) so [Page 159] contr [...]riwise to have an humour of casting the worst glosses upon the Actions of another Man, where there is not palpable dissimulation, argues as great a want of Love. Wee seach for Evill in our selves to expell it; but wee search for evill in another to finde it. There is scarse a more hatefull quality in the eyes of God or Man, than that of the Herodians, to lye in wait to catch an innocent man, and then to accuse him.

Another Effect which proceedeth from cor­rupt Hatred, is proud and insolent carriage, where­by wee contemne the quality, or undervalue and villifie the Merit of a person. For though the Apostle hath in this respect of Pride and Swel­ling, opposed Knowledge unto Love: Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth; yet the opposition holdeth not there onely: For there is Tumor Cor­dis, as well as Tumor Cerebri; as well a stubborne as a learned Pride, a Pride against the Person, as against the weaknesse of our Brother, a Pride whereby wee will not stoope to a yeelding and reconciliation with him, as whereby wee will not stoop to the Capacitie and Edifi­cation of him; that is, the swelling of Ma­lice, and this of Knowledge. And hence it is that Hatred (as Aristotle hath excellently observed)Rbet. l [...]. 2. [...]. 4. when it is simple and alone (though that seldome fall out) is without the admixtion of any Griefe. And the reason I take it is, because Griefe is either for the Evill of another, and so it is ever the Effect of Love; or for the Evill which lyeth upon our selves, and so is the cause of [Page 160] Humilitie; neither of which are agreeable with Hatred, whose property ever it is to conceive in it selfe some worth and excellency, by which it is drawne to a Contempt and Insolence to­wards another Man. And therefore as it was Pride in Men and Angels, which wrought the first Hatred between God and them; so the most proper and unseparable Effect of this hatred ever since is Pride.

The last Corruption of this Passion is Im­patience, Contention and Fury, as the wise Man telleth us, Hatred stirreth up strife. And there­foreProv. 10. 12. that worthy Effect of Love, which is contrary to this of Hatred, is called [...]. and Longanimitas. Long suffering to signifie some length, distance, and remotion between a Mans Minde and his Passion. But Hatred, being of a fierce Nature, is so farre from ad­mitting any Peace, or yeelding to conditions of parley, that as hath been observed out of Aristotle) it rests not satisfied with the Mi­sery, but desires (if it bee possible) the utter overthrow of an Enemy.

CHAP. XVI. Of the Affection of Desire. What it is. The severall kindes of it, Naturall, Rationall, Spirituall. Intemperate, Vnnaturall, Mor­bid Desires. The Object of them Good, pleasant, as possible, as absent either in whole, or in degrees of perfection or conti­nūance. The most Generall Internall cause Vacuity, Indigence. Other Causes, Admi­ration, Greatnesse of minde, Curiosity.

THe next Passions in order of Na­ture to these two are Desire and Abomination, which because they differ not much otherwise from Love and hatred, than the Act from the Habit, or then a man sitting from himselfe walking, Desire being but the motion, and exercise, as delight is the Quiet and Repose of our Love, I shall therefore the more briefly passe it over. Desire is the wing of the soule whereby it moveth, and is carried to the thing which it loveth, as the Eagle to the Car­ [...]ise I [...]b 39. 30. Math. 24. 28. [...]abac. 1. 8. in the Scripture proves, to feed it selfe upon it, and to be satisfied with it. For as the Appe­tite of the Eagle is attended with sharpenesse of fight to discover its prey, with swiftnesse of wing to hasten unto it, and with strength to seize upon [Page 162] it: So according to the proportion of the Soule [...] love unto its object doth it command and call to­gether both the Wisedome and Powers of the whole man to direct unto, and to promote the pro­curing of it. And the very best characters and truest lineaments which can bee drawne of the minds of men, are to be taken from their Desires, [...]. Nat. Qu [...]st. [...]p. 26. rather than from their Practises. As Physitia [...] often judge of the Diseases of sicke men by their Appetites. Ill men dare not doe so much evill as they desire, for feare of shame or punishment▪ Good men cannot doe so much good as they de­sire fo [...] want of Power and Provisions of vertue. Besides Practises may be over-ruled by ends, but Desires are alwaies genuine and naturall, for no man can bee constrained to will that which [...]ee doth not love; And therefore in the Scriptu [...] good men have had most confidence in approving themselves unto God by their affections and the inward longings of their soules after him as be­ing the purest and most unfaigned issues of Love▪ and such as have least Proximity and Danger of infection from forraigne and secular ends. Sai [...] Rom. 7. 18, 19. I [...]. 21. 17. Paul himselfe was much better at willing than [...] performing; and Saint Peter who failed in his pro­mise of D [...]ing, dares appeale to Christs ow [...] Omniscience for the truth of his Loving. Wha [...] ever other defects may attend our actions, this is an inseparable character of a pious soule, that [...] [...]. 1. 11. Is [...]. 26. 8. Phil. 3. 20. desires to feare Gods name, and according to th [...] prevalency of that affection, hath its conversati­on in heaven too. In which regard Christ is cal­led [Page 163] the Desire of all Nations, both because whereH [...]g. 2. 6. Iohn [...]2 32. Ps [...]l. 1 [...]7. 9. he is he draweth all the hearts and desires of his people unto him, and also doth by his grace most fully answer and satisfie all the desires that are presented before him: as it is said of one of the Romane Emperours Neminem unquam dimisit Tri­stem, he never sends any discontented out of his presence.

The desires of the Soule are of three sorts, ac­cording to the three degrees of perfection which belong unto man, Naturall, Rationall, Spiritu­all.

Naturall desires respect [...] things ofArist. [...]. lib. 7. cap. 6. simple Necessity to the Being, Preservation, and in­tegrity of Nature, as the desires which things have to their proper nourishment and place ad conser­vationem individui, for preserving themselves and to propagation, & increase ad conservationem speciei, for preserving of their kind.

Rationall Desires are such as respect [...] such things as are Elegible in themselves, and the proper objects of right Reason, such as Felic [...]y the common End of all rationall Appetitions, Vertue the way, and externall good things, as Health, Strength, Credit, Dignitie, Prosperity, the Orna­ments of humane life.

Spirituall Desires respect [...] Heb. 9. [...]3. 1. Cor. 3. 13. Col. 3. 1. Heavenly, and spirituall things, the things of God, Things which are above, The knowledge whereof we have not by Philosophicall, but by Apostolicall discovery, by the Spirit of God who [...]ely searcheth the deepe things of God.

[Page 164]The Cor [...]pt Desires contrary unto these are ei­ther Vitious or Morbid. Vitious are againe of two sorts: First, Intemperate and incontinent Desires, which erre not in the substance or nature of the thing desired; but only [...], as the Philosopher speakes in the measure and manner of desiringProv. 31. 6. 1. Tim. [...]. 23. Ps [...]. 1 [...]4. 15. them. It is lawfull to drinke Wine, and a Man may erre (as Timothy did) in an over Vid. Soc [...]at. lib 4. cap. 1 [...]. Euseb. lib. 4. c. 38. l. 5. c. 17. [...]ren. l. 1. c. 34. Tertul. adv. Psy [...] c. c. 15. Epiph. T [...]. 2. l. [...]. Vid. G [...]l. St [...]. A [...]iq. Comm. lib. [...]. cap. 7, 8. Clem. Al. pad. lib. 2. cap. 1, 2. [...]. lib. [...]. adv. [...] rigorous se­verity to Nature, when health or needfull refresh­ment requireth it: For our flesh is to be subdued to reason, not to infirmities, that it may be a servant to the Soule, but not a burden. But if we let Wine bee [...], as the Heathen called it, to take a freedome against us, like Cham to mocke us, and discover our nakednesse, and make us servants unto it. If we doe not only eate Hony, but surfet on it; If wee must have meat like▪ Israel in the Wilder­nesse, not only for our Need, but for our Lust; If we eat and drinke so long that we are good for no­thing, but either to lye downe and sleep, or to rise up and play, to live to day and to dye tomorrow▪ If we make our belly the grave of our Soule, and the dungeon of our Reason, and let our Intestina asMegarens [...] obsonan [...], quasi crasti [...]d die [...]rituri. Tert. Apol. cap. 39. well morally as naturally farre exceed the length of the whole Man besides. This is in the Apo­stles phrase to be lovers of pleasure rather then lo­vers of God, and it is an intemperate excesse a­gainst natural desires which will ever end in pain. It was a witty speech of A [...]acharsis the Philoso­pher,Diog. L [...]ert. l. 1. that the Vine beareth three sorts of Grapes: The first of Delight: The second of Excesse: The third of Sorrow. If wee let our Delight steale us [Page 165] into Excesse, and become a mocker, our Excesse will quickly betray us unto Sorrow (as Dalilah did Sampson to the Philistins) and let us know thatProv 20. 1. Pl [...]. de Audi­ [...]one. after Wine hath mocked it can rage too. Like the head of the Polypus, which is sweet to the Palate, but after causeth troublesome sleeps and frightfull dreames.

Secondly there are brutish and unnaturall De­sires, which the Philosopher calleth [...], fe­rine [...]. l. 7. c. 6. and inhumane, instancing in those barba­rous Countries, where they use to eat mens flesh and raw meat; and in the Woman who [...]ipped up Women with childe that shee might eat their young ones: Vnto which head I refer those which the Apostle cals [...] and [...]Rom. 1. 26. 1. Thess. 4. 5. [...]de ve [...]. 7. Vid. Eus [...]. de pr [...]p. Evang. lib. 1. cap. 4. Hierom. lib. 2. Contr. Iov [...]. vile and dishonorable, Affections and Passions of Lust wherein forsaking the guidance of Nature, they dishonored their bodies amongst themselves, and gave themselves over, as S. Iude speaketh unto strange flesh; also incestuous and promiscuous Lusts, going with naked and painted Bodies, as the antient Brit [...]aines offering of men and chil­dren in sacrifices, eating of the bodies of Friends that dyed, burning of the living with the dead, and other like savage and barbarous practices,The [...]d. Serm. 9. de l [...]b. C [...]l Rodingin. Antiq. lib. 10. cap. 21. 28. P [...]n. lib. 5. cap. 17. 30. & lib. 7. cap. 2. wherein wee finde how farre naturall corruption improved with ignorance and want of Educa­tion or Religion, can imbrace the Manners of Men.

Lastly, there are morbid Desires, growing out of some distemper of Mind or Body, called by the Philosopher [...], as those of children, which [Page 166] eate co [...]les or dirt, and the strange and depravedEthic. l. 7. c. 6. longings of women with child, called [...] or Pi [...]a from the Bird of that name, because the incon­stantC [...]l. R [...]dig. lib. 3. cap. 15. Uid. Stephan. & [...] [...]n voce [...]. and various appetences of nature, so mis­guided by vitious humours, is well resembled by the strange mixture of white and black feathers in that Bird.

Having considered the severall kinds both of Regular and corrupt Desires. I shall content my selfe with a very briefe inquiry into the causes, and effects of this Passion.

The causes moving it are Externall ex parte ob­jecti, in the object, or [...]ternall ex parte subjecti inDeb [...] & Iucund [...] vid. Philosoph. R [...]e. cor. lib. 1. the minde. The Object is any thing apprehended sub ratione Boni & Iucundi, as good and pleasant. For upon those inducements did Satan first stirre the desire of Eve towards the forbidden fruit.Ge [...]. 3. 6. [...] Dam [...]seen de [...]. s [...]d. l. 2. [...]. 22. She saw that it was good for food, and pleasant to the eye.

Now the Qualification of these to distinguish the formall reason of their being objects to our desires, from that wherein they are Objects of our love, is first that they bee Possible: For Desire being the motion and indeavour of the Soule to­wards that good which it loveth, and wherein it seeketh to delight, take away the possibility of such delight, and this would bee motus in Vac [...], like that of Noahs Dove that found no place for her feet to rest on. Hope is the whetstone, and wheele of industry, if that saile, how ever a man may waste and pine away his thoughts in empty Velleities and imaginary wishes, he ca [...] ever put [Page 167] forth nor addresse his endeavours towards an im­possible [...] etiam & qu [...] non poss [...] Sen. de l. à▪ lib. 1. c. 3. [...] Arist. Ethic. lib. 3. c. 4. Vid. de volitio­ne & [...] [...] Aquin. 1. 2. qv. 13. [...] 5. & Valen [...]. To. 2. disp. 2. q [...]st. 8 p. 2 good. Though an old man may wish himselfe young againe, yet no man was ever so besotted as to endeavour it. And this distinction betweene vanishing wishes and serious desires is of great consequence to be attended in all th [...] moti­ons of the Soule morall or sacred, in as much as those Desires onely which are Active and Indu­strious, purposely addressing themselves to the prosecution of that which they apprehend as ac­quirable, doe commend the Soule from whence they issue for vertuous and pious.

Secondly, the object of the Desires quatale is apprehended as Absent and distant, in as much as presence worketh delight rather than desire. The things we have, we enjoy, wee doe not covet, wee rest in them we doe not move towards them. Yet not alwaies Absent quoad t [...]m, but quoad gradus, not in the whole, but in the parts and degrees of it: for the presence of a good thing doth in some sort quicken the Desires towards the same thingCrescit A [...]or nu [...]i quan­tum ipsa pecu nia cresc [...]. [...] [...] [...] [...] qui [...] [...]abet [...]. S [...]. 14. Aristot. lib 1. Politic. c. [...] ▪ Plutarch. lib. de Cupidi [...]. di­viti [...]. Se [...]. [...]p. 73. M [...]. 9. [...]4. so farre forth as it is capable of improvement and augmentation.

As we see in externall riches of the body, none desire them more eagerly than those that possesse them; and the more vertuous the Soule of man is, the more is the heart enlarged in the Appetiti­on of a greater measure▪ as the putting in of some water into a Pump, doth draw forth more. No man is so importunate in praying, Lord help mine unbeliefe, as hee that can say Lord I beleeve. Thus even present things may be desired in order [Page 168] to improvement, and further degrees of them: as many times a man hath a better stomacke to his meat after he hath begun to eat, than when he first sate downe unto it. Againe, things present may be the Object of our Desires unto continuance, as hee that delighteth in a good which he hath, desireth the continuance of that Delight. And therefore Life, even while it is possessed it is desired, because the possession of it doth not cause the Appetite to nauseate or surfet upon it. Few men there are who desire not old Age, not as it is old Age, and importeth decay, decrepidnesse, and defects of Nature: For a young man doth not desire to bee old now; but as it implyeth the longer and fuller possession of Life: For a man being conscious to himselfe, first of his owne insufficiency to make himselfe happy, from and within himselfe; and next of the immortality of his Nature: as upon the former reason, he is busied in sending abroad his Desires (as the Purveyors and Caterers of the Soule) to bring in such things as may promote perfection: so those very Desires having succeeded, doe farther endeavour the satisfaction of Nature,Arist. Ethic. lib. 3. cap. 13. Eadem lib. 3. c. 3. problem. ¶ 28. quast. 7. sujd [...]s in [...]. Aelian. var. Hist. l. 10. 6. 9. [...] Diog. Latri. in [...]: l. 6. by moving towards the Perpetuity of what they have procured. It was a fordid and brutish wish of Philoenus in the Philosopher, who wished that he had the throat of a Crane or Vulture that the pleasure of his taste might last the longer (it being the Wisedome of Nature, intending the chiefe Perfections of Man to his Soule, to make his Bodily Pleasures the shorter.) But surely the Soule of Man having a reach [Page 169] as farre as Immortality, may iustly desire as well the Perpetuity as the Presence of those good things wherein standeth her proper perfection. And therefore it was excellent counsell of An­tisthenes the Philosopher, That a man should lay up such provisions, as in a Shipwracke might swimme out with him such treasure as will passe and be currant in another World, and will follow us thither, which as the Apostle speaks, is to lay up a good foundation against the time to come

The Internall Causes moving Desire, in regard of the subject or minde of man, may be different according to the different kinds of Desires spo­ken of before. The most generall which respe­cteth [...] Arist. Ethic. lib. 3. cap 11. [...] Cl [...]m. Alex. Str. l. 7. them all is a Vacuity, Indigence, and selfe-insufficiency of the Soule: For having not with­in it selfe enough either to preserve it or to con­tent it, it is forced to goe out of it selfe for sup­plies; for wheresoever God hath implanted sen­sitive and rationall affections, he hath bin pleased to carry them from themselves, and to direct them abroad for their satisfaction: by that means preser­ving the Soule in humility, and leading it as by Degrees up unto himselfe. Every creature though it have its life in its own possession; yet the preser­vation of it, it fetcheth from some things with­out. The excellentest creatures are beholding to the meaner, both for their nourishment, and for their knowledge. And therfore of all Graces, God hath chosen Faith & Repentance, as the chief means of carrying us to him, because these two do most [Page 170] carry us out of our selves, and most acquaint us with our insufficiencies, Repentance teaching a man to abhorre himself, & Faith to deny himself.

Now because Emptinesse is the cause of Appe­tence, Si q [...]id deterit ida nobis peti­erimus. Sen. Epist. 119. Vid. Plutarch. de Curiosit. Cae ius [...]oodig. lib. 14. cap. 7. we shall hereupon finde, that the fullest and most contented men, are ever freest from vaste desires. The more the minde of any man is in weight, the more it is in rest too. As they say that in Rivers, ships goe slower in the Winter, but withall they carry the greater burdens: So many times men of lesse urgent and importunate Appetitions, and motions of mind, are more fur­nished and better ballanced within. In Iothams Iudg. 9 9. 15. Parable the Bramble was more ambitious than the Vine, or the Olive. And the Vine we see which is of all other Arbor Desiderii, the Tree of Desire, is weakest and cannot stand without another to support it. Therefore wee shall finde that mens Desires are strongest when their constitutions are weakest, and their condition lowest; as wee see in servants that labour, women that breed, and sick men that long, whose whole life in that time is but a change and miscellany of Desires. Thus we see little children will reach at everyI [...] 7 1, 2 3. thing which is before them, being wholly desti­tute of internall furniture. Vacuity is ever suck­ing and attractive, and will make even dull and heavie things rise upward. Eager and greedy, va­rious and swarming Appetitions are usually the [...] Arist. de G [...]ne­tatio An ma, lib. 4. cap 4. signes either of a childish or a sicke Temper of minde; as the Naturallists observe that the least creatures are the greatest breeders, a Mouse [Page 171] bringeth more young ones than an Elephant.Vivunt, non quomodo vo­lunt; sed quo­modo Cap [...] ­runt. Sen. de Tran. cap. 2. Plut. Sympos. lib. 5. quast. 9.

Onely here wee must distinguish both of con­tentment and of Desires. There may bee a dou­ble Contentment, the one arising out of sluggishnesse and narrownesse of minde; when men out of an unwillingnesse to put themselves to the paines of gaining more, rest satisfied with what they have, and had rather have a poore quiet, than a Trea­sure with labour. As they say of the Fig-tree, though it be least beautifull of other Trees (for it alone beareth no flowers) yet withall it is free from Thunder. And as the Historian said of some men that they are solà socordià Innocentes. Tacit. doe men no hurt only because it would cost them paines to doe it: so may wee of these, that they are beholding to their torpid and sluggish con­stitution, for the contentment which they pro­fesse to have. And this doth not regulate inor­dinate desires, but onely lay them asleepe, as even an hungry man when he sleepeth, hath his hunger sleepe with him.

Another contentment there is arising out ofPhil. 4. 11, 12. Heb. 13. 9. Nam (que) lab [...]nt cur [...] [...] sint ponder [...] navet. Perq, mare in­stab les nimi [...] levitate se­runtur. Ov. Met. lib. 2. I [...]ven. Sat 14. Pli [...]. l 7. c. 56. Stuck. l. 2. c. 8 [...]ol 165. Wisedome and practicall learning (as the Apostle tells us, that it is a matter of learning to bee con­tented) when the heart being established and made steady with grace, and solid materials with­in, as a ship with ballast▪ is the lesse tossed with lower affections, as Saul cared not for his Asses when he heard of a Kingdome.

—Grata post munus arista
Contingunt homines veteris fastidia quercus.
When men had once discover'd better corne,
They loath'd their mast & oaken bread did scorn

And this kinde of contentment doth not stu­pisie loose Desires, but change them, as the Cats Vnum magnum was more worth to her than all the [...] Plat. de So­lart. [...]. variety of shifts which the Foxe did boast of, and one Sunne doth more comfort us in the day than many thousand starres in the night.

Againe, Desires are either of things excellent, Sapien [...] est di­vi [...]iarum na­turalium qu [...] ­sitor acerri [...] Sen Epist. 119 as the vertuous and spirituall desires of the soule whereby men move towards God; and these doe neither load the heart, nor cloy it, but much ra­ther open and enlarge it for more. No man was so well acquainted with God as Moses, who yet was the more importunate to know him better, I beseech thee shew me thy glory, nor any man moreExod 33. 18. acquainted with Christ than Saint Paul, who yet desired to be dissolved and to be with Christ neerer.Phil. 1. 23.

Other Desires are of middle things [...] Arist. Ethic. lib. 7. cap. 6. the Philosopher calls them; such as Wealth, Profit, Victory, Honour, which are not good in themselves, but as they are managed. And these Desires though not extinguished, yet are very much asswaged, and moderated by the weight and wisedome, of solid contentment. He was the wisest man then alive, and who knew all the quintessence, and what ever was desireable in the Creature, who said Da mihi panem Statutim [...] [...]rv. 30. 8. Give me the Bread of my Allowance; [...] [...]heophylact. so much as the quality of my place [Page 173] and state requireth, which is that which our Sa­viour [...] [...]. Luke 12 42. I [...]me 12. 15. Iob 23. 12. [...]. Reg. 4. 22. Vide [...]. d [...] mensuri [...], lib. 2. cap. 3. & A [...]g [...] [...]ani [...]ium de pane quot [...]d. ad [...] I [...]stit. [...]yria▪ S [...]uck. Convival. lib. 1. cap. 22. limiteth our desires unto, [...] our portion and dimensum, [...] in Saint Iames, dayly food, and was pleased to answer that wise King in that his request, and to give us a re­cord and Catalogue of his daily bread.

Another cause of Desire may bee Admiration; A strange thing though monstrous and deformed calleth the eyes of every man unto it. Rarity is a marveilous Lenocinium, and inticer of Desire, [...]. stiv [...] nives, hybern [...] rosae as the Panegyrist spake, Snow in the Summer and Roses in Winter; the Birds of this Countrey, and the Roots of ano­thor; dai [...]ties hardly procured without the ship­wracks of men, to feed the gluttony rather of the eye than of the belly; these are the delights of the curiosities of men. The same fruits when they are worse but rarer, have a farre greater va­lue set upon them, then when expos'd by their commones unto every mans purchase And it wasPl [...]t. Apop [...]. a wise complaint of old Cato; That it went ill with the City when a Fish was sold for more then an Oxe. We see Desires doe not put forth themselves more freely in any then in children, I thinke the chiefe Reason of it is the same which the Philosopher giveth of their memories, be­causeRbet lib. 2. every thing to them is new and strange▪ for st [...]ange things as they make stronger impressions upon the Retentive, so they doe upon the Appeti­ [...]ive saculties. And therefore we find Herod whoLuk [...] 23 8. cared nothing at all [...]or the Doctrine of Christ, because it was holy and divine, had yet a great [Page 174] Desire to have seene his miracles, because they [...] Acbin [...] [...] [...] invis [...]rus Plut de Curio [...]it. 1. Reg. 10. Plat [...] Aegypt [...] Italia [...], [...] pe [...]jt Philosophiae c [...]sd▪ Vid. Throd. Oral. 1: De [...]ide. Zeph. 1. 8. Greci [...] [...] Arist [...]. Tom. 2. [...] de pace p [...]ster.. Graciae, Grae­cia. [...]hycidides Uide Coel. [...]bod. l. 10. c. 25. Acts 17. 21. were wonderfull. And Men have travelled farre to see those persons and things, the fame whereof they have before admired, strange Learning, strange Birds and Beasts, strange Floures and Roots, strange Fashions; yea, strange Sinnes too (which is the curiositie and corruption of Na­ture) are marvellous attractive, and beget emulati­on amongst Men. Nero gave rewards to the inven­tors of strange Lusts. Even Solomons Ships, besides substantiall Treasure, did bring home Apes and Peacockes. Athens which was the eye, the floure, and Epitome of Greece (to shew that this cu­riosity is the disease as well of Wits, as of Childehood) spent all their time and study in inquiring after new things. And for this cause it is (as I conceive) That wise Men have made Lawes to interdict the transporting of their coun­trey fruits into other places, lest the sight of them should kindle in strangers a Desire to bee Masters of the Countries where they grew, as we see the Grapes and Figges of Canaan were used as Incentives unto the expedition of Israel [...] and hence Plutarch telleth us that the Word Sy­cophantPlut. in Solon, & de Curiosit. & lib. 1. Cod. quares expor­t [...]ri non de­beant. is derived to note originally such as detected those who surreptitiously transported Figge [...] into other Countries. As on the other side wee read that the Athenians set up a Pillar▪ wherein they published him to bee an Enemy of the City, who should bring Gold out ofAristid. To. 3. Ora [...]. 2. Aelius Spart. in Piscen. N g. Media, as an Instrument to corrupt them▪ And the Romane Governour commanded hi [...] [Page 175] souldiers that they should not carry any Gold or Silver into the Field with them, lest there▪ by they should bee looked on by the Adv [...]r­sary, as the Persians by Alexander, rather as a prey than a foe.

A third cause which I shall touch on of ex­citing Desires, is height and greatnesse of minde▪ which cannot well set bounds of measure unto it selfe, as Seneca said in another sense, Magnitud [...] non Epist. 43. habet certum modum. Great minds have great ends, and those can never be advanced but with vast and various Desires. A great Ship will not be carried with the Sayle of a Lyter. Nor can an Eagle fly with the wings of a Sparrow. Alexander was [...] infae­lix angust [...]i mite mundi. Vt Gy [...]ae in­clusus sco [...]u­lu, & [...]. [...]uv. [...]. 10. Sen. de [...] n [...]fic. l. 7. c 2. p. 54. & 119. Ecclet. 6 9. P [...]ov 17. 24. not so great in his Victories as in his Desires, whom one World could not satisfie: nor Pom­pey in his Triumphs, as in his Ambition, to whom it was not enough to be Great, except he might be the Greatest.

Another cause of Desires may be Curiositie, which is nothing else but a desire of prying into, and listning after the businesses of other Men, which is ▪called by Solomon, Ambulatio Anim [...]: The walking up and downe of the Soule, as he elsewhere telleth us, that the Eyes of a Foole are in the Ends of the Earth: Such a Man being like the witches which Plutarch [...] l [...]t. de Cu [...]. speaks of, that weare Eyes when they went a­broad, but put them in a box when they came home [...] Or like the Falckoners Hawkes that are [...] qu [...]q, m [...]o semper sugi [...]. Luc [...]t. [...]pud S [...]a. de▪ trauq l. c. 2. hooded in the House, and never suffered to use their Eyes but to the hurt of other Birds: [Page 176] like a man in a Dungeon, that sees nothingNon horam [...]e­cum esse potes, [...] non etia re [...] [...], &c. [...]. where hee is; but can see a great deale of light abroad at a little passage. So these kind of Men have vast desires of forreine Knowledge, but wonderfully shun the acquaintance of them­selves. As they say of a Swine, that hee looks every way but upward: so we may of Pragma tists, that their eyes looke alwaies save onely inward. Whereas the Minds of prudent Men are like the Windowes of Solomons Temple, broader inward than outward. As the Pillar1. Reg. 6. 4. that went before Israel in the Sea, whose light side was towards Israel, but the darke towards Pharaoh: Or as the Sunne in an Eclipse, whose light is perfect inwards, though towards us it bee darkened. A wise Mans eyes are in his head, whereas a Foole hath [...] as it is in the Pro­verbs, his minde in his heeles only to wander and g [...]d abroad.

CHAP. XVII. Of other causes of Desire, Infirmity, Teme­rity, Mutability of Minde, Knowledge, Repentance, Hope. Of the effects of it in Generall, Labour, Languor. In spe­ciall, of Rationall Desires, Bounty, Griefe, Wearinesse, Indignation against that which withstands it. Of Vitious Desires, Deception, Ingratitude, Envy, Greedinesse, Basenesse of Resolution.

Other causes of Desires are In­firmity, Rashnesse, and Muta­bility of Mind, Which three [...]. Arist. E [...]hic lib. 7. c. 8. I put in one, as having a neer Relation and dependance within themselves. For com­monly impotent Appetions as those of Children, of sick, of incontinent Persons, are both Temerarious in [...]recipitating the Minde, and anticipating the [...]ictates of Reason which should regulate or re­ [...]raine them: as also mutable and wandring like [...]e Bee from one Floure unto another; Infirmity [...] suffering a man to hold fast his Decrees, and [...]rity not suffering him to resolve on any; and [...]stly▪ Mutabilitie making him weary of those [...]ings which weaknesse and rashnesse had unad­visedly [Page 178] transported him unto. Omnium Imperitorum Maximum in dicium est m [...] la mentis flu­ct [...]atio. Sen. Ep. 120. vid. ep. 10. & de Tranq. cap. 2. [...]. Aristid. Tom. 2 O [...]at. 1. Vid. etiam Plu­tarch▪ de [...]. Iliad▪ -▪ animus in lubric [...] est: Weake minds have ever wa­vering and unfixed resolutions. Like fickle and nauseating stomacks, which long for many things and can eat none. Like sicke bodies, qu [...] mutationi [...]us ut remedys utuntur, as Seneca speakes, which tosse from side to side, and thinke by changing of their place they can leave their paine behind them. Like Achilles in the Poet:

[...]
Now he leans on his side, now supine lyes,
Then grov'leth on his face, and strait doth rise.

This Sicknesse and Inconstancy of Desires is thus elegantly described by the old Poet L [...] ­cretius: Lucret. lib. 3. lactor, Crucior, agitor, [...] ­lor, versor in amoris [...] animi ha­be [...]. Ibi sum, ibi non sum, [...]b non sum ibi est Animus. I [...]a mihi ingenia sunt, quod lu­bet non lubet iam id conti­nuo, &c. Plaut. Cistellar.

—Vt nunc plerum (que) videmus,
Quid sibi quis (que) velit nescire & quarere semper.
Commutare locum, quasi onus deponere possit.
Exit sape foras magnis ex adibus ille,
Esse domi quam pertasum est subit [...], rever [...].
Currit agens mann [...]s advillam praci [...]itanter
Auxilium tectis quasi ferre ardentibus instet.
Oscitat extemplo tetigit cum limina Villae,
Aut abit in somnum gravis, at (que) oblivia quarit:
Aut etiam properans Vrbem petit, at (que) [...]evisit▪
Hoc se quis (que) modo fugit. At, quod scilicet ut [...]
Effugere haud potis est, ingratis haret & ange [...].
We see how troubled Mortals still enquire,
Nihil tam oc­cupatum [...]am multiforme t [...]t ac tam variis motibus conci­sum ac la [...]ra­tum, quàm ma­la ment. Quin­ [...]il. lib. 12. c. 1. Non horam [...] ­cum esse potes, non [...]tia recte Pon [...]re [...]que ipsum [...] fugitivus & err [...]. Horat. Uid. Plutarch. de Tranquillit.
Yet nee're can find what 'tis which they desire.
One changeth place, as if he could unload
And leave his weights behind him. Runs abroad,
Weary of a great Palace; strait turnes back,
And hath not found the thing which he did lack.
Wearied both here & there, he mounts his steed,
And runs to th' neighbor town with swister speed
Than if he went to quench a fire. Being set,
He gapes and sleeps, and studies to forget
Why he came thither, haply turne his raine,
And to the City po [...]teth backe againe.
Thus guilty Man doth study how to shunne,
And scape himselfe, but nee're can get it done.
He bears the thing he flyes. What he would leave
Vnwelcome selfe unto it selfe doth cleave,
And cleaving doth torment.—

The more simple, One, and perfect Nature is [...]. Arist. [...]bic. lib. 7. c. ult. (as the Philosopher divinely noteth) the more it delighteth in one and the same uniforme opera­tion. Mutability is not pleasant in it selfe; but [...]he delight of it ariseth out of the pr [...]vitie and [...]efect of Nature.

I might here insist on other more obvious cau­ses of desire: As,

1 Knowledge and experience of the goodnesse of that which wee desire: as the Apostle also [...]elleth us, That Experience worketh Hope: And [...]e use to say, Ignoti n [...]lla Cupido. A man cannot [...]esire that of which he hath no Apprehension. [...]nowledge is Appetites Taster.

[Page 180]2 [...] and Repentance for the Evils wee [...]. feele, the contrary whereunto we are the more induced to desire. We never desire Health so eagerly as when Sicknesse teacheth us to valueQ [...]m q [...] in p [...] estate ba [...]u. it me [...]t [...]a a [...]. Plant. cop. iv. c. 7. 1. [...] it: For as in Colours, so in Actions or Af­fections, contraries doe set sorth and sharpe [...] one another. And as Labour Naturall makes a Man earnestly desire the Shadow, as Iob speak [...] so Sorrow which is Labour Mentall, doth make a Man earnestly. thirst after that which can re­move the thing which [...] that sonow. The Apostle telleth us, That Desire and Zeale are the 2 Cor. 7. 11. fruits of godly Sorrow. David never panted so ear­nestly after Gods favour and presence, as when he felt what a Griefe it was to be without it [...] For in this case there is an Apprehension of [...] double goodnesse in the thing we desire, both as perfective unto Nature Indigent, and as me­dicinall unto Naturewronged.

Lastly Hope of speeding in our Desires: For the stronger any mans perswasions are, the more cheerfull and vigorous will bee his endeavours to succeed. But I shall content my selfe with the intimation of these things. And in the next, very briefly to runne over some Effects and Con­sequents of this Affection: Which are,

1 In regard of Desires at large, Labour and Paines: For they are onely Velleities and not Volitions: halfe and broken wishes, not whole desires, which are not industrious; but [...] away in sluggish and empty speculations. [...]. [...]. apud [...]. lib. 2. Th [...] Fisherman that will take the Fish, must be con­tented [Page 181] to be dashed with the Water. [...]. E [...]e­ctra. Plata [...]ch. Iustit. l. [...]con. [...], &c. [...]. Rb [...]s. And he that will expect to have his desires answered, must put as well his hands as his prayers unto them:

[...]
Who takes God in his mouth, but takes no paine,
By devout sloath shall never gather gaine.

It was the just reproose of him in the Poetc Homer. [...]. [...] 341. 348. [...]. [...]. 325 who was upbraided with comming to the feasts, but withdrew himselfe from the labour of other Men. Nature hath often made the roots of thosed Aristot. apud La [...]rt. lib. 5. Plants bitter, whose fruits are sweet, to reach us that Delight is the fruit of Labour. And therefore the Philosopher telleth us, that De­sire is usually accompanied with Sorrow.

Againe, Desires doe commonly worke a Lan­g [...]or c Arist. E [...]demi lib. 2 cap. 10. [...] Prou 13. 12. and sainting towards the thing desired, if they be either strong or hasty: For Reg. 21. 4. [...]. 119. 20. 8 [...] Vsqu [...] ad agri­ [...]m deside [...]. El. Lam. p [...]id. in Co [...]. Rom. 8. 22. 2 Cor. 5 [...] Hope de­ferred maketh the heart sicke. As Ahabs eager desire of Naboths Vineyard, cast him upon his bed. And David expresseth his longings towards Gods Law, by the breaking and fainting of his Soule. Cum expectatio longior est consenescit animus, & debilitatur mens.: Delaied expectation weak­neth and withereth the mindes of Men. And therefore the Apostle expresseth strength of De­sire by groaning, which is the Language of Sick­nesse.

[Page 182]2 In regard of Reasonable and Spirituall De­sires. The effects of this affection are:

1 Large. heartednesse and Liberality. That which a man earnestly desireth he will give much for,Pb [...]l. 3. 8. 9. 10. Matth. 13. 45. Mag. 2. 6. 7. Matth. 2. 11. Isa. 60. 5. 17. Psal. 68. 29. and bestow much upon. As when Christ became the desire of all Nations, they did dedicate all their desirable things unto him, as the [...] and trophies of his mercifull triumph over them. One man adornes the Gospell with his power, another with his wit, another with his wealth, another with his wisedome.

Those Abilities of Nature, Art, or Industry, which were before the armour of sinne, are then become the spoyles of Christ. Antonius out ofPl [...]tarch. in Anton. the strength of his desires towards Cleop [...]ra, bestowed many countries upon her.

2 Griese for any losse or hazard of the thing desired. As the Sea-mans needle which is jog­ged and troubled, never leaves moving till it finde the North point againe. Flagrantia sunt Nazar. Orat. Pan [...]gyr. animorum desideria cum solatia perdiderun [...], as the Orator spake. Desires burne hottest when they are in danger of disappointment.

3 Wearinesse and Indignation against any thing which standeth between Desire and the fruiti­onSenec. Epist. 75. Abo [...]ice sa­vi [...]r ib [...]. Plutarc [...]. Sym­pos. l. 4. [...]. Gr [...]l. l 3. c. 6. of that which is desired. Vehementior per me­ [...]us & pericula exibit: That which resisteth increa­seth it. As a River goes with more strength where it is hindred and withstood. The Church did venture blowes when she sought her Love, and like the Palme Tree rose up above her pres­sures:Tertul. Ap [...]log. cap. [...]. plures efficimur quóties metimur a vobis, as [Page 183] Tertullian speakes to the Heathen. The more you mow us downe, the thicker wee grow; the more we suffer for him, the more we love and de­sire him. Saint Paul careth not for a dissolution▪ that he may goe to Christ, as a stone is contented to be broken in pieces, that it may move to its place.

Thirdly, For Corrupt and v [...]tious Desires; their [...] 1. 14. [...]. [...]. l 7. c. 2. [...]. ib cap. 7 u [...]. Hos. 4. 11. [...] c. 3. vid. c. 5. 9. Vid. Plaut. A­sinar. Act 1. [...]cen. 3. Cicer. de Senectut. Effects are first, Deception, and haling of Reason as it were captive from determining, advising, or du­ly weighing the pravity and obliquity of them. So that the things which a man knowes in thesi, and at large, in hypothesi; and as to his owne parti cular interest or inconvenience he doth not at all attend. He can say them, he cannot apply them. As he who acteth a part on a Stage, knowes the things which he speaks, but is not a whit affected with them. And the Philosopher giveth the rea­son of it, the very same with S. Iames, [...], [...]. 1. [...]1. Heb. 4. 2. [...] That Reason which overcomes Lust must bee [...], Reason ingrafted; or to use the phrase of another Apostle, [...], immixed and con­tempered with the soule, and not onely extrinsi­cally irradiating it. And these kinde of men are [...]. lib. 3. cap. 7. elegantly called by Iulius Pollux, [...] men wil­lingly slavish, and [...] subdued and brought under by their owne affections. As Pl [...]tarch saith of Agiselaus, that he was ruled by Lysander his ser­vant,Pl [...]tarch. in Lysander. he having only the name, but the other the execution of his power. This slavery of mens minds under the tyranny of lustfull desires is thus described by the Satyrist.

Mane piger stertis? surge, inquit Avaritia, eja
Persi [...] Sat. 5. vid. Arria [...]. Epict. l. 3. [...]. 24.
Surge▪ negas? Instat, surge inquit, non queo surge.
Ecquid agam rogitas? En saperdam adv [...]ho ponto,
Castoreum, stupas, h [...]benum, thus, lubrica Co [...].
What sluggard snore so long? saies lust, up rise,
Awake, get out. Darst thou say nay? it cries
The same againe, up, rise; I cannot. No?
Rise though you cannot, when Ile have it so.
What must I doe? what doe? up, wipe your eies
See, here's a goodly Ship of merchandise;
Shell▪ fish, Castoreum, Flax, black Indian woods,
Frankinsence, Wines of Coos and other goods.

Thus sordidly doe vaine men sell themselves, and as it were render up their Reason into the hands of vitious and greedy Affections, giving leave to their soules to suffer a ship wrack in that vessell which bringeth goods into their Cellars, and traffiquing their own judgment in exchange for a ship of wares.

Secondly, These kinde of Desires make menSe [...] ▪ de Benef. lib. 3. c [...]p. 3 & l. 2. c. 27. ungratefull and forgetfull of any kindnesse which hath already been done them. Memoria minimum tribuit, quisquis spei plurimum. As in bucket [...] at a well, the longer the line of the one is which moves downward, the shorter is the line of the other which riseth upward; so the larger our De­sires are towards the future, the narrower our me­mories are of things past. And usually mens va­luations of things are more in the performance, [Page 185] then when they are performed. And the rea­son,Na [...] serae maxuma par [...] movem hunc homines babent, quod sibi volunt, Dum id impe­tran [...] Boni sunt, sedid ubi jam p [...]es sese habeant, ex bo­nis pessumis & [...] Pl [...]ut. Captiv. nihil [...]què est gra­tum adeptis & concupiscenti­bus Plix. lib. 2. Ep. 15. is because as nature hath set our eies forward, and not behinde us: so the appetites of men, for which the eyes are the principall factors, looke naturally before them, not to what they Have, but to what they Hope. The eye whereby we looke backeward into our lives is the eye of Repentance, we there either see our selves bad, or little. And a man is an unwelcome object unto himselfe in both these Relations. But the eye whereby we looke forward, is an eye of Hope, and Desire, and by that we are represented to our selves better and greater then we are already. Iron moves not upward except the Loadstone be very neere it; But it mooveth downward, though the Cen­ter be never so remote. So much stronger are the motions of Desire, then those of acknow­ledgement and retribution.

Besides the apprehensions of Goodnesse in a thing are much other in the Desire then in the Review: as usually the Sunne and the Moone looke bigger at their rising, then when they are come over our heads. Desire lookes on nothing in them but that which pleaseth, Review findes that in them which displeaseth. When we desire Wine we thinke onely on the sweetnesse, when we review it, we remember the headach. Besides what we desire is apprehended as the matter of our life, what is past, men apprehend as in the hand of death. Quickquid retro est mors tenet. AsSenec▪ de Bre­vi [...], vi [...]ae & Ep. 120. [...]n our life, so in our delights, so much of them [...]s dead as is over and gone. We love our food [Page 186] when it is meate, we loathe it when it is excre­ment. When it goes into us we desire it, when it passeth through us we despise it. And the se­cret worke of concoction, (which is as it were the Review of ou [...] meat) doth distinguish that in them which the first Appetite tooke in [...] lumpe, and together.

And in truth in all secular and sublunary de­sires we shall ever finde that they are like the Apples of Sodome, Qu [...] contacta cin [...]rescunt, [...]. Apol. cap. 40. which have ashes hidden within their beauty, and doath l [...]king under them. All the matter of ou [...] secular or sensitive Desires are just like the meates we [...]ate, which goe much more into ex­crement, then into nonrishment and substance. Like the Cyptus tree which they say is very [...] cp [...]d Plutarch. A-Apopth. Cl [...]m. Alex. Paed. lib. 3. cap. 3. faire, but beares no fruit. Like the Egyptian Temples which are beautifull in frontispicio, b [...] ridiculous in penetrali. And if we looke well on them, we shall finde, that as they are mortall themselves, so they come to us through mortali­ty. it was a bold, but true [...] of Seneca. [...] vivinous. We live by the deaths of other things. Our fullest Tables furnished with death nothing but feretra, the biers of birds and [...] ▪ Our richest garments the bowels and skinnes [...] other creatures, which worke out their owne [...] to preserve ours. Silke is a grave to the [...] that weaves it, before it is a garment for us. O [...] Offices and Honours seldome come to us but b [...] the mortality of those that prepossessed them▪ And our mortality makes them the [...]itter obje [...] of other mens Desires.

[Page 187]3 These Desires as they are forgetfull, so theyVid Senec. de tra. lib. 3. c. 31. Allen is gem [...] ­tibus liben [...]er [...]olumenta conquir [...] ▪ Ammian: Mar­cell. lib. 31. Egreeium Ex­ [...]mplum in vi­di [...] etiam Ec­clestas [...]icae ex cupidi [...]atibus [...] apud [...]un. dem Marcell [...] num inter Da­masum, & Vrcisiaum. lib. 27. are envious, and looke with an evill eye upon others competion, accounting their successe our owne dammage. If a man should draw the gene­alogie of all the injuries and emulations of the world, we should finde the Roote of that great Tree to be nothing but lust. It was Desire and inordinate appetite by which the devill perswa­ded our first parents to picke a quarrell with their Maker. Whence come Warres and fightings, saith Saint Iames, but from lusts which warre in your members? When a man hath warre within, no wonder▪ if he have no peace without. He that cannot agree with himselfe, will disagree with all the world besides. The sea tosseth eve­ry thing which comes into it, not because it is wronged, but because it is unquiet. And a lust­full man will contend with every innocent man that prospers, not because this man doth him in­jury, but because he grudgeth this mans prospe­rity. As the sea representeth every strait thing that is put into it crooked, so lust every harme­lesse thing perverse, and as Seneca speakes, hath [...]pist. 105. Odium sine inimico, hatred without an enemie. Greedy Desires are like a swollen and envious spleene, which sucks away substance from all the rest of the body.

4 These Desires are Hidropticall, and like a Caelius Pho­dig. lib. c, 39. lib. 14. cap. 1. [...] in the stomacke which is not quenched, but enraged with that which feeds it. Vnnatu­rall Desires being herein very like unto naturall [...]ions, the further they proceed, the stronger and [Page 188] swifter they are. Like wind in a bladder they ne­ver fill the heart, but enlarge it. The Grecians [...]. in Ana­charsi. lib. 1. [...] de Ben. lib. 2. c. [...]7. Ni [...]il [...] ma [...]i. uris, Imo [...] ­bus [...]p. cap. 120. P [...]n. lib. [...]5. c. 22. began their drinkings in little Cups, but procee­ded unto Flagons: and many times those Appe­titions which begin in modesty goe on unto im­pudence, and the more our lives hastens to leave the world, the more our lust hastens to possesse it. As it is noted of the Parthians, that the more they drinke, the more they thirst. And, which is a marvellous illogicall stupidity, the more continuall experience men have of the vanity of the world, the more greedy experiments they make to finde out solidity in it. Like your me­lancholy searchers after the Philosophes Stone, that never dote so much upon their project as then when it hath deluded them, and never flat­ter themselves with stronger hopes to be enrich­ed by their Art, then when it hath brought them unto beggary.

Lastly, from hence it comes to passe that these kindes of Desires are Base, and diject the minde unto [...]ordid and ignoble Resolutions. For [...] nihil satis, nihil [...]urpe. He that hath never enough will count nothing base whereby he may ge [...] more. As the Historian saith of Otho, that he di [...] Adorare vulgus, jacere oscula, & omnia serviliter [...] [...]. Hist. l. 1. Imperio. Adore the people, dispence and scatte [...] abroad his curtesies, crouch unto any servil [...] expressions, to advance his Ambitious designes Like Antaus in the Poets, fall to the earth, [...] Hor [...]dot. Th [...] ­lia. Plutarch. in Solon [...]. hee may grow the stronger by it. As [...] and Pisistratus who wounded, mangled, de­formed [Page 189] themselves, that they might thereby in­sinuate, [...]. Mar­cel▪ lib. 25. and gaine their ends. As the Scripture noteth of Absolom, and the Historian of Iulian, that out of affectation of popularity, they stou­ped and delighted to converse with the lowest of the people. Which cunning humility, or ra­ther sordidnesse of Ambition, Me [...]elous in the Tragedian, hath thus elegantly objected in a contentious debate unto Agame [...]non.

[...]
Eurip. [...].
[...]
[...].
[...]
[...]
[...].
You know how you the Rule o're Grecians got,
In shew declining what in truth you sough [...]:
How low, how plausible you apprehended
The hands of meanest men: How then you bended
To all you met: How your gates open flew,
And spake large welcome to the pop'lar Crew:
What sweetned words you gave even unto those
Who did decline, and hate to see you gloze.
Ho [...] thus with Serpentine and guilefull Arts
You screw'd and wound your selfe into the hearts
O'th'vulgar: And thus bought the power, which now
Makes you forget how then you us'd to bow.

CHAP. XVIII. Rules touching our Desires. Desires of lower Objects must not be either hastie, or un­bounded; such are unnaturall, turbid, un­fruitfull, unthankfull: Desires of heavenly Objects fixed, permanent, industrious: Con­nexion of vertues, sluggish Desires.

VNto the things already delive­red touching this affection, I shall here add two or three Rules pertaining to the morall use, and managing of it. And they are, First, concerning Objects of an Inferiour and Transitory nature, that our Desires be neither Hastie and precipitate, nor Vaste, and unlimited. And in matters more High and Noble, that they be not either wave­ring and interrupted Desires, or Lazie and negli­gent Desires.

1 For the first of these, we have a rule in Solo­mon, concerning Riches, which will hold in all other Objects of an immoderate desire: He that Prov. 28. 20. 20. 21. maketh haste to be rich, shall not be without sinne; I may add, Not without cares neither: for we know the nature of all Earthly things, they have some­thing of the Serpent in them, to Deceive. The way of riches and profit, is a thorny way; the [Page 191] way of Honour and Ambition, a slippery and gid­dy way; the way of carnall Pleasures, a deep and a fowle way, the way of learning it selfe (the noblest of all sublunary things) an involved and intricate way. And certainely he had need have better eyes then a blinde Passion, who in so ill ground will make good haste and good speed together. In [...]. C [...]ilo [...]pud [...]. lib. 1. labyrintho properantes ipsa velocitas implicat. He is the likeliest man to get first out of a Maze, who runnes fastest. An over nimble Desire is like the stomacke of a sicke man newly recovered, more greedy, then strong, and fuller of Appetit [...] then Digestion. Whence arise immature and unconcocted counsels, blinde and ungoverned Resolutions: like those monstrous people, which Plinie speakes of, whose feet goe backeward, and behinde their eyes. For when the minde of man is once possessed with conceit of Contentment to be found in worldly glories, when the insinuati­ons and sweet inchantments of Honour, Profit, Pleasure, Power, and Satans Hac omnia, hath once crept upon the affection, and lulled reason asleep; it is then sufficient that we know the end, which we desire; we have not the patience to inquire after the right way unto it: because it is the sus­pition of our greedy Desires, that the true means are commonly the most tedious, and that honesty for the most part goes the fa [...]thest way about. And hence withall it usually commeth to passe that these hasty and preproperous Appetitions do hinder ends, and intercept Advantages which slownesse with maturity might have made use of. [Page 192] As the Romane Souldiers by their greedinessePlutarch. in Lacull [...]. on their prey, missed of taking Mithridates, who otherwise could not have escaped them. And therefore it was wise counsell of Nest [...]r in the Poet.

[...]
[...] liad. [...]. 70.
[...]
[...]
[...]
Let none goe lingring after spoyle, and stay
To load himselfe with a too hasty prey.
But first let's kill: W'are sure after such fight▪
Carcasses being risled cannot bite.

2 The next Rule to keepe this Passion inSenec. de Tranq. l. [...]. Arian. Epict. lib. 1. [...]. 26. order with reference unto inferiour Objects is, that it be not an infinite and unlimited Desire. Appetite should answere our power to procure, and our strength to beare and to digest. Wee should not goe about to swallow a Camell, when a G [...]at doth make us straine, Immoderate Desires can neither be satisfied, nor concocted. And this unboundednesse of Desires we are to take heed off▪ for these reasons.

1 First, for the unnaturalnesse of it: for allArist. Po [...]it. lib. c. cap. 6. [...]. Ep. 16. 39. de ben [...]fit. lib. 2. c. 27. unnaturall and unnecessary Desires are infinite, as the Philosopher hath observed▪ As he that is out of his way may wander infinitely. An unli­mited Desire is onely there requisite, where the [Page 191] Object thereof is Infinite, and ordained to perfect Mans Nature; but not where it is onely a means appointed for his benefit and comfort. WhereinExtrani [...] non augent bonum, sed condi [...]nt. Senec. Epi [...]. 66. he ought therefore then to enjoy his Content­ment, when it is sufficient not to fill his Minde which is immortall; and therefore not able to bee replenished with any perishing happinesse) nor to outreach the vastnesse of his opinion, which which being Erronious is likewise Infinite (For Omnis Error immensus, as Seneca speaks▪ but thenNurquam [...] invenit [...]ibide. Cic [...]r. [...]usc. Malum [...] ­nitum. Arist. [...]thi▪ lib. 2. cap. 6. P [...]it. l. 2. c. 5. Exig [...]um na­tu [...] opinio imm [...]nsarium [...]pic. apud Sen. only when it affords such conveniences, as where­withall the seasonable and vertuous imploiments of Nature may with content be exercised. It is then a corrupt Desire which proceeds not from our Want, but from our Vice. As that is not a naturall thirst, but a disease and distemper of the Body, which can never be satisfied.

Now the miseries of unnaturall Desires are first,1. that they corrupt and expell those which arePlutarch. in Gry [...] ▪ & de [...]. [...] Naturall: as multitudes of strangers in a City doe eat out the Natives; thus in luxurious Men, strange Love doth extinguish that which is Con­jugall.

Secondly, they ever bring vexation to the2. minde with them. As immoderate laughter, so immoderate Lusts are never without paine and [...] convulsions of Nature. Morbid desires of the Mind are like an Itch or Vicer in the Body, [...]. which is with the same nayles both angered and delighted, and hath no pleasure but with vex­ation.

Thirdly, they are ever attended with Repen­tance,3. [Page 192] both because in promises they disappoint, [...]. and in performances they deceive; and when they make offers of pleasure, do expire in pains; as those delicates which are sweet in the mouth, are many times heavy in the stomacke; and after they have pleased the Palat doe torment the bowels. The Minde surfets on nothing sooner than on unnaturall Desires.

Fourthly, for this reason they are ever chan­ging4. and making new experiments; as weakeS [...]n de [...] [...]. [...]. 1. 3. c. 3. and wanton stomacks which are presently cloy'd with an uniforme dyet, and must have not onely a painefull but a witty Cooke, whose inventionsQuod Ministe­ [...] suera [...], Ars haberi Capt [...]. [...] l. 39 [...] Ethi. [...]. 3. c. 12. may be able with new varieties to gratifie and hu­mour the nicenesse of their appetite. As Nero had an officer who was called Elegantiae Arbiter, the inventor of new Lusts for him.

Lastly, unlimited Desires are for the most part5. Envious and Malignant: For he who desires every [...]. Annal. [...]. 16. thing, cannot chuse but repine to see another have that which himselfe wanteth. And therefore Dio­nysius the Tyrant did punish Philoxenus the Musi­tian,Plut. de Tranq because he could sing, and Plato the Philoso­pher, because he could dispute better than him­selfe. In which respect hee did wisely, who [...]. was contented not to be esteemed a better Orator than he who could command thirty legions.

Secondly, unbounded Desires doe worke Anxiety and Perturbation of Minde; and by that means dis­appoint Nature of that proper end which this Passion was ordained unto; namely, to be a means of obtaining some further good; whereas those [Page 193] Desires which are in their executions Turbid, or in their continuance Permanent, are no more likely to lead unto some farther end, than either a misty and darke, or a winding and circular way is to bring a Man at last unto his journeyes end; whereof the one is dangerous, the other vaine. And together with this they doe distract our no­ble Cares, and quite avert our thoughts from more high and holy desires. Martha her Many things, and Maries One thing will very hardly con­sist together.

Lastly, there is one Corruption more in these unlimited Desires, they make a man unthankfull forSen. de Bene [...]. lib. 3. former benefits: as first, because Caduca memoria f [...]turo imminentium. It is a strong presumption that he seldome looks backe upon what is past, who is earnest in pursuing some thing to come. It is S. Pauls Profession and Argument in a matter of greater consequence, I forget those things which are behind, and reach forth unto those things which are before. And secondly, though a man should looke backe; yet the thoughts of such a benefit would be but sleight and vanishing, because the Mind finding present content in the liberty of a roving Desire, is marvellous unwilling to give permanent entertainment unto thoughts of another Nature, which likewise (were they entertained) would be rather thoughts of murmuring than of thankful▪ fulnesse: every such man being willing rather to conceive the benefit small, than to acknowledge the vice and vastnesse of his owne Desires.

The next rule which I observed for the go­vernment [Page 194] of these Passions, do respect those High­er and more glorious Objects of Mans Felicity: And herein,

1 Our Desires are not to be Wavering and In constant, but Resolute and full of Quicknesse and Perseverance: First, because though we be poore and shallow vessels; yet so narrow and almost shut▪ up are those passages, by which wee should give admittance unto the matter of our true happines▪ yea so full are we already of contrary qualities, as that our greatest vehemency wil not be enough, either to empty our selves of the one, or to fill our selves with the other. And therefore the true De­sires of this Nature are in the Scripture set forth by the most patheticall and strong similitudes of Hunger and Thirst; and those not common neither; but by the pant [...]ng of a tyred▪ Hart after the rivers of water, and the gaping of the dry ground after a seasonable showre. Secondly, overy desirable Ob­ject the higher it goes, is ever the more united within it selfe, and drives the faster unto an unity: It is the property of Errours to be at variance; whereas Truth is One, and all the parts thereof doe mutually strengthen and give light unto each other: So likewise in things Good▪ the more noble, the more knit they are▪ Scelera disi [...]dent: It is for sinnes to be at variance amongst themselves. And [...] [...]. l. 7. c. 14. those lower Goods of Riches, Pleasure, Nobility, Beauty, though they are not Incomparable; yet they have no naturall Connexion to each other; & have therfore the lesse power to draw a consla [...] and continued Desire. But for nobler and imma­teriall [Page 195] goods wee see how the Philosopher hath [...]. l. 6. c. 12. observed a connextion betweene all his morall vertues, whereby a man that hath one, is naturally drawne to a desire of all the rest: for the minde being once acquainted with the sweetnes of one, doth not onely apprehend the same sweetnesse in the others, but besides findeth it selfe not suffici­ently possest of that which it hath, unlesse it bee thereby drawne to procure the rest: all whose properties it is by an excellent mutuall service to give light and lustre, strength and validity, and in some sort greater Vnity unto each other.

And lastly for the highest and divinest good; the truth of Religion, that is in it selfe most of all other One, as being a Beame of that Light and Revelation of that Will, which is Vnity it selfe. And therefore though we distinguish the Creed into twelve Articles, yet Saint Paul calleth them all but [...] one Faith, as having but one LordEph. 4. 5. for the Object and End of them. Now then where the parts of good are so united, as that the one draweth on the other, there is manifestly required united desire to carry the soule thereunto.

II. The last Rule which I observed was that our Desires ought not to bee faint and sluggish, but industrious and painefull, both for the ar­ming us to avoid and withstand all oppositions and difficulties, which we are every where likely to meet withall in the pursuit of our happinesse; and also for the wise and discreet applying of the severall furtherances requisite thereunto. And indeed that is no True, which is not an Operative [Page 196] Desire: a Velleity it may be, but a Will it is not. For what ever a man will have, hee will seek in the use of such meanes, as are proper to procure it. Children may wish for Mountaines of gold, and Balaam may wish for an happy death, and an A theist may wish for a soule as earthly in sub­stance as in Affection; but these are all the eja­culations rather of a Speculative fancie, than of an industrious affection. True desires as they are right in regard of their object, so are they labori­ous in respect of their motion. And therefore those which are idle and impatient of any paines, which stand like the Carman in the Fable, crying to Hercules when his Wuine fluck in the mud to helpe it out, without stretching out his owne hands to touch it, are first unnaturall desires, it being the formall property of this Passion to put the Soule upon some motion or other. And therefore wee see wheresoever Nature hath given it, she hath given likewise some manner of moti­on or other to serve it. And secondly they are by consequence undutifull and disobedient Desires, in that they submit not themselves unto that Law, which requireth that wee manifest the life and strength of our Love by the quicknesse and operation of it in our Desires. And lastly, such Desires are unusefull and fruitlesse: for how can an object▪ which standeth in a fixed distance from the Nature, which it should perfect, be procured by idle and standing affections? The desires of the sluggard (saith Salomon) slay him, because hisPro. 21. 25: 13. 4. hands refuse to labour. These affections must [Page 197] have life in them, which bring life after them: Dead desires are deadly desires.

CHAP. XIX. Of the Affection of [...]y Delight. The seve­rall Objects thereof, Corporall, Morall, Intellectuall, Divine.

THe next Passions in order be­longing to the Concupisci­ble Faculty, are those two, which are wrought by the Presence of, and Vnion to an Object; and that is, when ei­ther wee by our desires have reached the Object, which worketh Ioy and De­light: or when in our flight the Object hath o­vertaken [...] E [...]hic. l. 2. c. 3. us, which worketh Griefe and Sorrow. And these two do beare the most inward relation unto and influence upon all our actions. Where­upon Aristotle in his Ethicks hath made them the foundation of our vertues, and rules of our wor­king. And the reason is naturall, because the end of our motion is to attaine rest, and avoid per­turbation.Cicer. Tusc. l. 4. [...]. Zeno apud Lae [...]. l. 7. Cum. Alex. strom. lib▪ 2. [...] Rbe [...]o. l. 1. c. 11▪ Now Delight is nothing else but the Sabbath of our thoughts, and that sweet tranqui­lity of mind, which we receive from the Presence and Fruition of that good, wherunto our Desires have carried us. And therefore the Philosopher [Page 198] in one place call it a motion of the Soule with a sensible and felt instauration of Nature, yet else­where hee as truly telleth us that it standeth ra­ther in [...] Ei [...] ▪ l. 7. c. ul [...]. rest than motion; as on the other side Griefe is the streightning and anguish of our minds wrought out of the sense and burden of some present Evill oppressing our Nature. NowGaudere in Sinu. Ci [...]. [...]. Iliad. [...]. these Passions are diverse, according to the diver­sity of the Objects: which are either Sensitive and Bodily; and then Delight is called Voluptas Qui sapit in tactio gaudeat ille Sin [...]. Tibul. Vid. [...] de Orthodox. side lib 2. cap. 13. & Nemes. de Anima. c. 18 Pleasure, being a medicine and supply against bo­dily indigence and defects: or Intellectuall and Divine, and then it is called Gaudium Ioy, being a sweet and delightfull tranquillity of minde, re­sting in the fruition and possession of a good. So also is the other Passion of Sadnesse considered; which in respect of the Body is called a Sense of Paine; in respect of the Soule, a Sense of Griefe.

First then for the Object of our Delight; it is onely that which can yeeld some manner of satis­faction unto our nature, not as it is a corrupt and erring, but as it is an Empty and perfectible na­ture. Whatsoever then is either Medicinall for the Repairing, or Naturall for the Conserving, or any way helpefull for the advancing of a Creature, is the onely true and allowable object of its De­light. Other pleasures which eat out and under­mine Nature, as water which by little & little in­sensibly consumeth the bank against which it bea­teth, or as A [...]bores uecat omnem [...] [...]. lo, &c. [...] l. 16. c 34. [...]vie which seemeth to adorn the Tree unto which it cleaveth, but indeed sucketh out and stealeth away the sap therof, may haply yield [Page 199] some measure of vanishing content to mindes, which tast every thing with a corrupted palate; but certainely such sophisticall premises can ne­ver inferre in the conclusion any other than a per­functory and tottering content. And thereforeEpist. 59. Aug. de Civlt. De [...], l. 14. c. 8. Seneca is bold to find an impropriety in Virgils Epithite, Mala Gaudia, Ioyes which issue from a polluted fountaine; as not having in them that inseparable attribute of absolute Delight; which is to be unvariable. For how can a mind (unlesse blinded with its owne impostures, and intangled in the errours of a mis led affection) receive any nourishing and solid content in that, which is in it selfe vanishing, and unto its Subject destru­ctive? Whatsoever then may bee delighted in, must have some one of the forenamed conditions, tending either to the Restitution of decayed nature, [...]. Nemes. c. 18. to the preservation of entire nature, or to the Per­fection of Empty nature. And to the former and [...]mperfecter sort of t [...]ese, Aristotle referreth all [...]orporeall and sensitive Pleasures (unto which heEthic l. 7. c. 14. [...]. [...]herefore granteth a secondary and accidentall goodnesse) which hee calleth [...] the Medi­ [...]ines of an indigent nature; whereby the defects [...]hereof are made up, and it selfe disburdened of [...]hose cares, which for the most part use to follow [...]he want of them.

Herein then I observe a double corruption; an [...]nnaturall and unlimited Delight. Vnnaturall, I [...]eane those accursed pleasures, which were exer­ [...]ised by men given over to vile affections and [...] in the pursuing of lusts, whose very names [Page 200] abhorre the light. Vnlimited Delights are those, which exceed the bounds of Nature, and the prime Institution of lawfull and indifferent things. For such is the condition of those, that if they repaire not, and strengthen nature, Undes [...]ctum ut qu [...] ad fu­nera per [...]e­rent in Templ [...] ventris vende­rentur. vid. Plutarch. qu [...] Rom. q. 23. they weaken and disinable it; as in the body Luxury breeds diseases, and in the mind Curiosity breeds Errours.

Other Objects there are of a wider nature than those, which concerne the Body; and they are both the Morall and Contemplative Actions of the Mind; To both which Aristotle hath attributedEthic. l. 10. c. 7. principally this passion; but more specially to the latter, whose object is more pure and whose Acts lesse laborious, as residing in that part of the Soule, which is most elevate from sense: and therefore most of all capable of the purest sim­plest and unmixed Delights. Now every thing is the more free, cleare, independant; spirituall, by how much it is the more unmixed. And these are the choisest perfections, whereby the Soule may be filled with joy. It is true indeed, that of­tentimes the contemplations of the mind have annexed unto them both Griefe and Anxiety; but this is never naturall to the act of Knowledg, which is alwaies in its owne vertue an impression of Pleasure: But it ariseth either out of the sub­limity of the Object, which dazleth the power; or out of the weaknesse and doubtings of the Vn­derstanding, which hath not a cleare light there­of; or out of the admixtion and sleeping them in the Humours of the Affections, whereby men mi­nister [Page 201] unto themselves desperate thoughts or weake feares, or guilty griefes, or unlimited De­sires, according as is the property of the Object joyned with their own private distempers: Thus we see the Intuition of Divine Truth in minds of defiled affections, worketh not that sweet effect which is naturall unto it, to produce, but Doub­tings,Ioh. 3. 20. Iob 21. 14. Isa. 30. 11. 2 Pet. 3. 5. Terrours and Disquietings of Conscience; it being the propertie of the workes of Darknesse to be afraid of the word of Light. But of all these former objects of mans Delight (because they are amongst Salomons Catalogue of things under theEccles. 2. 2. [...] Sunne) none are here without vexation and vani­ties: For to let passe the lightning of an idle mirth, which indeed is madnesse and not Ioy. ForSoph [...]c Alex. Senec. Epist. [...] 3 Seneca telleth us that true Ioy is a serious and severe thing: and not to meddle with riches and other secular Delights, which have wings to fly from us and thornes to prick us, even that highest naturall Delight of the Mind, Knowledge, and the heaven­ly eloquence of the Tongues of Angels (which a man would think were above the Sunne, and ther­fore not obnoxious to Salomons vanity) would be in man, without the right corrective thereof, but a tinkling noise, yeelding rather a windy Pleasure than a true Delight. The properties whereof is not to puffe up, but to replenish. And therefore it is the prayer of Saint Paul, The God of Peace fill [...]. 15. 13. you with all Ioy. True heavenly Ioy is a filling, a sa­tiating Ioy: a Ioy unspeakeable, with Saint Peter; a Peace past understanding, with Saint Paul. Nor doth this property of overflowing and swallowing the [Page 202] Mind add any degrees of offence or anxiety ther­unto: for it is not the weaknesse of the soule, as it is of the body to receive hurt from the excellen­cy of that which it delighteth in, nor doth the mind desire to subdue or conquer, but onely to be united with its object.

And here the onely corruption of our Delight is, the deficiency and imperfections of it. For though this blessed Light leaves not any man in the shadow of death, yet it takes him not quite out of the shadow of sinne, by the darknesse wher­of hee is without much of that lustre and glory, which he shall then have, when the righteous shal shine like the Sunne in the Firmament. Yet at the least our endeavours must be, that though our Ioyes cannot be here a Repl [...]nishing Ioy, yet it may be an Operative Ioy, and so worke out the measure of its own fullnesse. I have done with the severall Objects of mans delight, Corporall, Morall, In­tellectuall and Divine.

CHAP. XX. Of the Causes of Ioy. The union of the Ob­ject to the Faculty, by Contemplation, Hope, Fruition, Changes by accident a cause of Delight.

I Now proceed to speak of the more particular causes andArist. Ethic. lib. 7. cap. 6. effects of this Passion. Tou­ching the former, not to meddle with those which are unnaturall, belluine, and morbid (which the Philoso­pher hath given some instan­ces of) The generall cause is the naturall goodnesse of the Object, and the particulars under that. Any thing which hath a power to unite and make present the Object with the Faculty. And that is done (to speake onely of intellectuall Powers)Arist. [...]. lib. 1. cap. 1. three manner of wayes; by Contemplation, by Con­fidence, and by Fruition, by thinking of it in the Minde, by expecting of it in the Heart, and by en­joying it in the whole Man.

Contemplation addes unto the Soule a double Delight: First, from it's owne property, it being the proper and naturall agitation of mans minde, insomuch that those things which wee abhorre to know experimentally, our curlous and contem­plative nature desires to know speculatively. And [Page 204] therefore the Devils first temptation was drawne from the knowledge as well of evill as good, for he knew that the minde of Man would receive content in the understanding of that, which in it's owne nature had no perfection in it.

But then secondly, in the Object of true De­light, Contemplation ministreth a farther Ioy, in that it doth in some sort pre-unite our Soules and our Blessednesse together: and this is partly the reason why Aristotle so much advanceth his Con­templative before his practique Felicity: For though this in regard of it's immediate reference unto Communion, be of a more spreading and diffusive Nature; yet certainly, in that sweetnesse of content, that serenity of Soule, that exaltation of thoughts which we receive from those noble motions of the higher Mind, the other doth farre in pleasure and satisfaction surpasse all active happinesse. And hence we see in the parts of Mans Body, those which are (if I may so speake) more contemplative, have precedence to those that are more practique. The parts of Vision are before the parts of Action; the right eye is preferred be­fore the right hand. Thus we may observe in God himselfe (notwithstanding in him there can bee neither accession nor intermission of Delight) yet by way of expression to us ward, he did not in the creation of the World so much ioy in his fiat, as in his vidit; not so much when he gave his crea­tures their Nature, as when he saw their Goodnesse: Nature being the Object of Power; but Goodnes the Object of Delight; and therefore the day of [Page 205] his rest was more holy than the dayes of his wor­king, that being appointed for the Contempla­tion, as these were for the production of his crea­tures.

And as Contemplation by way of Prescience, when it looketh forward on good things hoped: So also by way of Memory, when it looketh back­ward and receiveth evill things escaped, doth minister matter of renewed Ioy. No Man lookethArist. Rbet. l. 1. c. 10. on the Sea with more comfort, than he who hath escaped a shipwracke. And therefore when Israell saw the Egyptians dead on the Sea shore, the fear of whom had so much affrighted them before, they then sang a Song of Triumph. Past troubles doe season, and as it were ballace present Com­forts, as the Snow in Winter increaseth the beau­ty of the Spring.

But in this particular of Contemplation, notwith­standing the excellency of it, there may be Cor­ruption in the Excesse (For in those matters of Delight, except they be such as are dispropor­tioned to our corrupt Nature, I meane divine things, wee seldome erre in the other extreme.) And that is, when wee doe not divide our selves between our parts, and let every one execute his proper function, so to attend upon meere mentall notions, as to neglect the practicall part of our Life, and withdraw our selves from the fellow­ship and regard of humane society, is as wicked in Religion, as it would be in Nature monstrous to see a fire burne without light, or shine without heate (aberrations from the supreme Law being [Page 206] in divine things impious as they are in naturall prodigious.)

And therefore that vowed sequestration and voluntary banishment of Hermits and Votaries from humane society, under pretence of devoting themselves to Contemplation, and a fore-enjoy­ing of the Light of God, is towards him as un [...] pleasing, as it is in it selfe uncomfortable, for their very patterne which they pretend in such cases to imitate, was not only a burning lamp by the heate of his owne Contemplations; but a shining lamp too, by the diffusing of his owne Comforts to the refreshing of others.

A second cause of Delight is the sure Confi­dence of the Mind. Whereby upon strong and un­ [...]ring grounds, it waiteth for the accomplish­ment of it's desires: so that what ever doth incou­rage our Hope, doth therewithall strengthen▪ and inlarge our Delight▪ Spe gaudent faith S. Paul, andRom. 12. 12. Sperantes gaudent saith the Philosopher, Hope andAr [...]. [...]. [...]. [...]. [...] [...], [...]. Ioy goe both together: For where Hope is strong▪ it doth first divert and take off the Mind from poring upon our present wants, and withall mini­streth tranquillity unto it from the evidence of a future better estate.

But here we must take heed of a deep Corrup­tion: For though I encline not to that opinion which denyeth Hope, all asswaging and mitigating sorce, in respect of evils, or any power to settle a floating Mind; yet to have an ungrounded Confi­sidence, and either out of Presumption or Securi­ty to resolve upon uncertaine and casuall events, [Page 207] there-hence to deduce Arguments of Comfort' works but an empty and imaginary Delight, like his in the Poet:

—Petit ille dapes sub imagini somni,
Ovid. Met. [...]. [...]. 8. [...] [...]. [...]. 21.
Ora (que) vana movet, dentem (que) indente fatigat.
Who dreaming that he was a Guest
At his Imaginary Feast,
Did vainely glut upon a Thought,
Tyring each Iaw and Tooth for naught:
And when he fanci'd dainty meat,
Had nothing but a Dreame to eat:

Or like the Musitian in Plutarch, who havingPlut de Audit. pleased Dionysius with a little vanishing Musick, was rewarded with a short and deceived Hope of a great Reward. A presumptuous Delight though it seeme for the time to minister as good content as that which is raised on a sounder bottome; yet in the end will worke such inconveniences as shall altogether countervaile and overweigh the de­ [...]ipt of its former Ioyes ▪. For the Mind being mollified and puffed up with a windy and unnou­rishing comfort, is quite disabled to beare the [...] of some sudden evill, as having its forces scattered by Security, which caution and [...]eare would have collected. For wee know in Bodies, Vnion strengthneth natural motion, and weakneth violent; and in the Mind the collecting and uni­ting of it doth both inable it for prosecution of its owne ends, and for resisting all opposite force. [Page 208] It is therefore no comforting but a weakning Confidence, which is not provident and ope­ [...]ative.

The third and most effectuall cause of Delight is the Fruition of Good, and the reall Vnion thereof unto the Mind [...] for all other things worke delight no farther, than either as they looke towards, or worke towards this. And therefore if we marke it in all matter of Pleasure and Ioy, the more the Vnion is, the more is the Delight (And Vnion is the highest degree of Fruition that can be) thus wee see the presence of a Friend, yeelds more content than the absence, and the imbraces, more than the presence: so in other outward Delights, those of Incorporation, are greater than those of Adhesion. As it is more naturall to delight in our meats than in our garments; the one being for an union inward to increase our strength; the other outward only to protect it. In the understanding likewise, those assents which are most cleer, are most plea­sant, and perspecuity argues the perfecter union of the Object to the Faculty. And therefore we have Speculum & [...] put together by S. Paul, We see as in aglasse darkly, where the weaknesse of our knowledge of God is attributed to this, that we see him not face to face with an immediate union unto his glory, but at a distance in the crea­ture and in the word, the glasse of Nature and of Faith (both which are in their kind evidences of things not seen) we shall only there have a perfecti­on of Ioy, where we shall have a consummate uni­on, in his presence only is the fulnesse of Ioy.

[Page 209]Now three things there are which belong unto [...]. [...]. [...] [...]. [...]. P [...]l. l. [...]. [...]. 3. [...]. l. [...]. c. [...]. a perfect fruition of a good thing: First, Propriety unto it, for a sicke man doth not feele the joy of a sound mans health, nor a poore man of a rich mans money. Propriety is that which makes all the emu­lation and contention amongst men, one man be­ing agreeved to see another to have that which he either claimeth or coveteth. Secondly, Pos­session: For a man can reap little comfort from that which is his owne, if it be any way detained and withheld from him, which was the cause of that great contention between Agamemnon & Achilles, Arrian. Epict. l. 1. [...]. 2 [...]. & between the Greeks & Trojans, because the one tooke away and detained that which was the others. Thirdly, Accommodation, to the end for which a thing was appointed▪ For a man may have any thing in his custody, and yet receive no com­fort nor reall delight from it, except he apply it unto those purposes for which it was instituted. It is not then the having of a good but the using of it which makes it beneficiall.

Now besides those naturall causes of Delight, there is by accident one more; to wit, the Change Ethic. lib. 7. [...]. vl. l. 10▪ [...]. 4. and Variety of good things, which the diversity of our natures and inclinations, and the emptinesse of such things as we seeke Delight from, doth occasion, where Nature is simple and uncom­pounded, there one, and the same operation is al­waies pleasant; but where there is a mixed and va­rious Nature, and diversity of Faculties, unto which doe belong diversity of inclinations, there changes doe minister Delight: as amongst lear­ned [Page 210] men, variety of studies; and with luxurious men, variety of pleasures.

And this the rather, because there are no sublu­nary contentments, which bring not a * Satiety Gustata magis quam Potata [...]. Cic. [...] [...]. 2. [...] [...]ll. 5. quaest. 1. Vid. Senec. de Tranq. c. 2, 3. along with them, as hath been before observed. And therefore the same resolution which the Philosopher gives for the walking of the Body, when he enquireth the reason why in a journey the inequality of the wayes do lesse weary a man than when they are all plaine and alike. We may give for the walking and wandring of the Desire (as Solomon cals it) to wit, that change and variety doe refresh Nature, and are in stead of a rest unto it. Quod etiam de Tibe [...]io no­tavit Su [...]ton. cap. 43. And therefore as I have before observed of Nero, the same hath Tully observed of Xerxes, that hee propounded rewards to the inventors of newQu [...] hoc offi­cio s [...]ngtban­tur dicti (ut videtur) ab Aelio l-amp [...]i­dio Volup [...]arij in Alex. Sever. and changeable pleasures.

Hereunto may be added as a further cause of Pleasure. Whatsoever serveth to let out and to lessen Griefe, as Words, [...] Xenoph. [...] ­nic lib. 7. Teares, Anger, Revenge, because all these are a kind of victory, then which nothing bringeth greater pleasure. And therefore Homer saith of Revenge, that it is sweeter than the dropping honey.Est quadam etiam vol [...]ndi voluptas. Plin. & Cic. de sint, l. 1. Arist. Rbet. l. 1. [...]. 1 [...].

CHAP. XXI. Of other Causes of Delight. Vnexpectednesse of a God. Strength of Desire. Immagi­nation. Imitation. Fitnesse and Accom­modation. Of the effects of this Passion. Reparation of Nature. Dilatation. Thirst in noble Objects, satiety in Baser. Whet­ting of industry. Atimorous unbeliefe.

VNto these more principallVix sum apud me ita animu [...] commotus est m [...]tu spe, [...]au­dio, m [...]rando hoc tanto tan­que repentin [...] [...]ono Ter [...]ent. Andr. Act. 5. 4. [...] bar [...] ­lam, animo m [...]o [...] repenti­ [...]um [...]amquè magnum non concipien [...]e Gaudium A­pul. A [...]n. Aur. lib. 11. Causes of this Affection I shall briefly adde these few which follow.

1 The suddennesse and unex­pectednesse of a good thing causeth the greater Delight in it. For Expectation of a thing makes the Minde feed upon it before hand, as young Gallants who spend upon their estates before they come to them, and by that meanes make them the lesse when they come. As sometimes it happeneth with choice and delicate stomackes. That the sight and smell of their meate doth halfe cloy and satiate them before they have at all tasted any of it: so the long gazing upon that which we Desire by Expectation doth as it were deflowre the Delight of it before fruition. Whereas on the other side, as the Poet expresseth it.

[Page 112] [...]
Sophocl. A [...]tig.
No joy in greatnesse can compare with that,
Which doth our Hopes and thoughts anticipate.

So strong and violent hath been the immu­tation which sudden joy hath wrought in the Bo­dy, Multis mor­tem attulit gaudium in­gens, Inspera­tum interclu [...]d animd, & vim magni novis que mo [...] non [...]. A. G [...]ll. lib. 3. c. 1. lib. 3. c. 1. & cap. 15. that many (as I have formerly noted) have beene quite overwhelmed by it, and beene made pertakers of Augustus his wish to enjoy an [...] in Aug. cap. 99. [...] and to dye pleasantly. And for this Rea­son it is that Arist. Etbect. 1004. new things, and such as we Del [...]ct at quicquid est Admirabile Cic. partic. Orat. ad­mire, and were Proximorum incuriosi lon­ginq [...] [...] ­mur & [...]. lib [...]. Epist. 20. not before acquainted withall doe usually Delight us, because they surprize us, representing a kinde of strangenesse unto the minde, whereby it is enlarged and enriched. For strange and New things have ever the greatest price set upon them. As I noted before of the Romane Luxury, That it gloryed in no Deli­cates but those which were brought out ofVid. Clem. Alex. [...]aedag. [...]. 2. c. 1. Plin. l. 9. c. 34. & lib. 2206. 2. Plutarcb. De [...] sani­ta [...]e. strange Countries, and did first pose Nature, before ei­ther feed or adorne it.

2 Strength of Desire, doth on the other side enlarge the pleasure of fruition, because Nature ever delighteth most in those things which cost us dearest, and strong desires are ever painfull. WhenVid. Citeron. Tusc. qu. l. 5. Darius in his flight drank muddy water, & Ptolomie did eate dry bread, they both professed that they never felt greater pleasure: strength of Appetite marveilously encreasing the De­light in that which satisfied it. For want and [Page 113] Difficulty are great Preparations to a more fee­ling fruition, Plutarch. de Tranquill. as Bees gather excellent Honey out of the bitterest Herbes. And as we say, Nulla sunt firmiora quàm quae ex dubijs facta sunt c Quintil. lib. 11. cap. 2, Si mibi tran­quilla & pla­ca [...] omnia suisseun, incre­dibili qua nunc [...] la­titia volupta­t [...] Caruissem Cic. Orat post Reditum. Mix. Tyrius Dissert. 33. Plutarch. de pro [...]ct. viri [...] ­tem. certa. Those evidences are surest which were made cleare out of doubtfull. So those pleasures are sweetest, Qu [...]suaves fiunt ex tristibus, which have had wants and feares and Difficulties to provide a welcome for them. And therefore Quintil. lib. 5. cap. 12. Wrestlers and Fencers, and such like Masters of Game, were wont to use their hands unto hea­vie weights, that when in their Games they were to use them empty and naked, they might doe it with the more expeditenesse and pleasure.

3 Imagination and fancy, either in our selves or other Men, is many times, the foundation of Delight. Diogines his sullen and Melancholly fancy tooke as much pleasure in his Tubbe and Staffe, and water, as other men in their Palaces, and ampliest provisions, And he in the Poet.

Qui se credebat miros a [...]dire Tragados
In vacuo latus sessor Plausorquè Theatr [...].—
Horat. Epist. lib. 2. Ep.
Cum redit adsese pol. me occidist is Amici
Non servastis ait, cui sic extorta voluptas,
Et demptus per vim mentis gratissimus error.
Who thought he heard rare Tragedies of wit,
And in an empty Theater did sit
And give Applauses: but being heal'd complains
Friends I'm not sav'd by this your love, but slain,
[Page 214]Robb'd of that sweet Delight I then did finde,
In the so gratefull errour of my Minde.

Hence likewise it is that Men are delightedFicta [...] sabulas cum volup. a­ [...]em [...]gimus Cl [...]. de si [...]. lib. 5. with Mythologies and Po [...]icall Fables, with Elegancies, Iests, Vrbanity, and Flowers of wit, with Pageants pompes, Triumphes, and publick Celebrities, because all these and other the like, are either the fruit or food of the Imagination.

4 Vpon the same Reason we are marveilous­ly Delighted with lively Imitation, as with thoseVid. Plutar [...]. de Aud. P [...]et▪ & Quintil. lib. 2. ap. 13. Arts which doe curiously expresse the workes and lineaments of Nature. Insomuch that the similitudes of those things doe wonderfully content us whose naturall Deformities we ab­horre. We are well pleas'd with Homers Descrip­tionHinc [...]coml stu [...]tia. pedi­c [...]li, feb [...]um, &c. of Thirsites, and with Sophocles his expression of the Vlcer of Philoctetes▪ with Parmeno his Imi­tation of the grunting of a Hog, and Theodor [...]u Plaut in Au­ [...]. Hora [...]. l. 1. Sa [...]. 9. his of the ratling of wheeles, with Plautus his dis­cription of a chargeable Wise, and Horace his of a garrulous companion, though the things them­selves we should willingly decline.

5 Those things Delight every man which [...] ▪ lib. 10. cap. 7. are [...] ▪ as the Philosopher speakes, Sutable Plutarch. de A [...]d. Poc [...]. fitted▪ and accommodated to his Genius and frame▪ of Nature, as in the same Plant, the Bee seedeth on the flower, the Bird on the Seed, the Sheepe on the Blade, the Swine on the Roote. So in the same Author one man observeth the Rationall▪ another the Historicall, a third the Elegant and more Rhetoricall passages, with speciall De­light, [Page 215] according as they are best accommodated unto the Complexion of each Minde. And IC [...]l. Rhod [...]g. lib. 5. cap. 34. [...] finde it observed out of Hipocrates, that even in the Body many times that kinde of meat which Na­ture receiveth with Complacency, and with aNames. ex Arist. c. 18. more particular Delight, though in it selfe it may be [...]orse▪ yet proveth better nourishment unto that Body than such, as though better in it selfe, findeth yet a reluctancy and backwardnesse of Nature to close or correspond with it. The same seeds are not proper for the sand and for the clay▪ nor the same imploiments of Minde for Men of various and different Constitutions. Nor is there I beleeve any thing which would more conduce to the generall advancement of Arts and Lear­ning, than if every Mans Abilities were fixed and limited to that proper course, which his naturall sufficiences did more particularly lead him unto. For hereupon would grow a double Delight, and by consequence improvement (for every thing growes most when it is best pleased) The one from Nature, the other from Custome and acquain­tance, which conquereth and digesteth the diffi­cultiesEthic. l. 10. [...]. 9. of every thing we set about, and maketh them yet more naturall unto us. And therefore [...] [...]. l. 1. c. 11. the Philosopher reckoning up many things that are pleasant to the minde, putteth these two in the first place. Those things that are Naturall, and those that we are accustomed unto, wherein there is least violence offered unto the inclinations and impressions of Nature.

Touching the Effects of this Passion, I shall [Page 217] name but these few: First, the effects of Corporall Delights are only (as I observed o [...]t of Aristotle) medicinall; for repayring the breaches and ruines of our decayed Natures; for animating and refresh­ing our languishing spirits; for preserving our selves in a good ability to execute Offices of a higher Nature; for furnishing the World with a succession of men, which otherwise the greedines of mortality would in short time devoure. These are true and intended ends of those Delights, and when they once transgresse these bounds, they be­gin to [...] oppresse Nature, weaken and distempe [...] the Body, clog the mind, and fill the whole man with satiety and loathing, which is the reason (as was even now noted) why men too violently carri­edSophoc. [...]. away with them, are presently over [...]loyed with one kind, and must have variety to keep out loa­thing: which Tacitus observes in that monster of [...]lut. in Gryllo. Annal. l. 11. women Messalina, facilitate adulterorum in fastidiu [...] versa ad incognit as libidin [...]s pr [...]stuebat, that loathing more easy and common sinnes, shee betooke h [...] selfe to unnaturall lusts, and I verily think is parti­cularly intended by S. Paul, Rom. 1. 26.

A second effect of Ioy is Opening and Dil [...] ­tion of the heart and countenance, expressing the serenity of the mind, whence it hath the name [...] Latitia, as it were a broad and spreading Passio [...]Latitia [...] latitudin [...]. Now the reason of▪ this motion occasioned [...] Ioy, is the naturall desire, which man hath to [...] united to the thing wherein he delights to make way and passage for its entrance into him. And hence wee find in this Passion an exultation and [Page 218] egresse of the spirits, discovering a kind of loose­nesse of Nature in her security, doing many things not out of resolution, but instinct and po­wer transporting both mind and body to sudden and unpremeditated expressions of its owne con­tent: For of all Passions, Ioy can be the least dis­sembled or suppressed, nam ga [...]dio Cogendi vis inest, Pa [...]igir. ad Tr [...]jan. saith Pliny▪ it exerciseth a kind of welcome vio­lence and tyranny upon a man, as we see in Davids dancing before the Arke▪ and the lame Mans wal­king, and leaping, and praising God, after hee had been cured of his lamenesse. And this diffusion of the spirits sheweth both the haste and forward­nesse of Nature, in striving as it were to meet her Object, and make large roome for its entertain­ment, as also to dispell and scatter all adverse hu­mours that would hinder the ingresse of it, and lastly to send forth newes as it were through the whole province of nature, that all the parts might beare a share in the common Comfort.

Thirdly, those noble Delights which arise from heavenly causes, doe withall cause a sweet thirst and longing in the Soule after more, as some co­lours [...] Plu [...] in P [...]ric. do both delight the sight and strengthen it: For while God is the Object, there cannot bee either the satiety to cloy the Soul, nor such a full comprehension as will leave no roome for more.

Thus they who delight in the fruition of God by Grace, doe desire a more plentifull fruition of him in glory; and they that delight in the sight of Gods▪ Glory▪ doe still desire to be forever so de­lighted. So that their Desire is without Anxiety▪ [Page 218] because they are s [...]tiated with the thing which they do [...] desire, [...] and their [...] is without lo [...] ▪ thing; because still they desire the thing wherwith they are s [...]tiated; they desire without Griefe, be­cause they are replenished; and they are repleni­shed without wearinesse, because they desire still; they see God and still they desire to see him: they enjoy God, and still they desire for ever to enjoy him: they love and prayse God, and make it their immortall businesse still to love and prayse him:

Et quem semper habent, semper haberevolunt.
Whom they for ever have, with love yet higher
To have for ever, they do still desire.

Aristid. Tom. 1. Orat. in Pute [...]. Aesc [...]l. Divine Ioy is like the water of Aesculapius his Well, which they say is notcapable of put [...]i­faction.

Fourthly, Delight whettoth and intendeth the actions of the Soule towards the thing wherein it delighteth; it putteth forth more force, and more exactnesse in the doing of them, because it [...] the mind of all those dulling Indi­sposition [...] Arist. Ethic. l. 10. c. 5. Poli [...]. l. 8. c. 5. which unfitted it for Action. And for this reason h [...]ppily it i [...], that the [...] used Pl [...]t. de [...]om. A. G [...]ll. l. 1. c. 11. Musicke in their Warres to refresh and delight Nature: For Ioy is in stead of recreation to the Soule, it wonderfully disposeth for busines. And those Actions which Nature hath made ne­ [...], it hath put pleasure in them, that thereby Men might be quickned [...]nd excited unto them; [Page 219] [...]. lib. [...]. Clem. A [...]ex. [...]trom. l. 2. Pla [...]t. Casi [...]. Act. 2. 5 [...] 4. [...]. lib. 5. c [...]p. 14. and therefore Wisemen have told us that plea­sure is, Sal & [...] vit [...]. The Sawce which seasoneth the Actions of men.

Lastly, because the Nature of man is usually more acquainted with sorrowes, then with plea­sures, therefore whither out of Conscience of guilt, which deserves no joy, or out of experience, which useth to finde but little joy in the world, or out of feare of our owne aptnesse to mistake, or out of a provident care, not to close or feed upon a De­light, till we are fully assured of our Possession of it, and because usually the Minde after sha­king is more setled, whether for these or any o­ther reasons, we see it usually come to passe, that vehement joy doth breed a kinde of jealousie and unbeliefe, that sure [...]he thing we have is too good to be true [...] and that then when our eyes tell us, that they see it, they doe but [...] and deceive us, as Quod nimi [...] volumu [...] [...]aud facile cre­dimus:

The things which we desire should be,
We scarse beleeve when we doe see.

So I [...]cob when he heard that his sonne Ioseph Gen. 45, 26. Psal. 126, 1. was alive, fainted▪ being astonished at so good newes, and could not beleeve it. And when God restored the Iewes out of captivity, they could thinke no otherwise of it then a [...] a dreame. AndAct. 129. Luke 24. 41. Peter when he was by the Angel delivered out of prison, tooke it for a vision only, and an appariti­on, and not for a truth.

[Page 220]And lastly, of the Disciples after Christs re­surrection, when he manifested himselfe to them, it is said, That for very joy they beleeved not, their feares keeping backe, as it were, and questioning the truth of their joyes, Omnia tuta timens, not suf­fering them too hastily to beleeve what their eies did see.

As in the Sea when a storme is over, there re­maines still an inward working and volutation, which the Poet thus expresseth,

Vt si quando ruit, debell at asque reliquit
Eurus aquas, pax ipsa tumet, pontumque jacentem,
Exanimis jam voluit hyem [...].—
As when a mighty tempest doth now cease,
To tosse the roaring Billowes, even that peace
Doth swell and murmurre, and the dying Wind
On the calm'd Sea leaves his owne prints behind.

Even so in the Minde of man, when it's feares are blowne over, and there is a calme▪upon it, there is still á motus trepidationis, and a kinde of sollicitous jealousie of what it enjoyes.Aenead. 4. [...] [...] [...] quod [...] ­sum homines [...] [...]ix satis credere se quisque an­diss [...] [...] somni uanam [...], Liv. lib. 33. [...]. [...]. 213.

And this unbeleefe of joy is admirably s [...]t forth in the Carriages of Penelope, when her Nurse and her sonne endevoured to assure her of the truth of Vlysses his returne after so many yeares absence by the Poet, in which doubting she stil persisted, till by certaine signes Vlysses himselfe made it appeare unto her, whereupon she ex [...]used it af­ter this manner.

My deare Vlysses let it not offend,
That when I saw you first, I did suspend
My love with my beliefe, since my faint brest
When first with those glad tidings it was blest,
Trembled with doubts, lest by such forged lies
Some crafty, false pretender might devise
To have ensna [...]'d me, and with these false sounds,
Defiel'd my love, and multiplied my wounds.

CHAP. XXII. Of the Affection of Sorrow, the Object of it evill, sensitive, Intellectuall, as present in it s [...]lfe, or to the mind, by memory, or suspi­tion, particular causes, effects of it. Feare, Care, Experience, Erudition▪ Irresolu­tion, Despaire, Execration, Distempers of Body.

THe opposite Passion to this of Delight, is Griefe and Sorrow, which is nothing but a per­turbation and nnquietnesse wrought by the pr [...]ssure of some present [...]vill, which the mind in vaine strugleth with, as finding it selfe alone too impotent for the con­flict. [Page 222] Evill I say either formally, as in sinne, or paine, present, or feared: or privatively, such as is any good thing which we have lost, or whereof we doe despaire, or have beene disappointed. And this is in respect of its object as the former Pas­sion, either Sensitive or Intellectuall. Sensitive is that anguish and distresse of Nature which lyet [...] upon the body. A Passion in this sense little con­ducing to the advancement of Nature, being all­waies joyned with some measure of its decay, but onely as it serves sometimes for the better forti­fying it against the same or greater evils, it be­ing the condition as of corporeall delights, by custome to grow burdensome and distastefull, so of paines to become easie and familiar.

The other and greater Griefe is Intellectuall, which in Solom [...]us phraise is, A wounded spirit; so much certainely the more quicke and piercing, by how much a spirit is more vitall then a body, besides the anguish of the soule, findes alwayes, or workes the same sympathy in the body, but outward sorrowes reach not ever so farre, as the spirituall and higher part of the soule. And therefore we see many men out of a mistake, that the distresse of their soules hath beene wrought by a union to their bodies, have volun­tarily spoiled this, to deliver and quiet that.

The causes of this Passion, are as in the former, whatsoever hath in it power to disturbe the mind by it's union thereunto. There are then two Condi­tions in respect of the Object, that it be Evill and Present. Evill first, and that not onely formally in it [Page 221] selfe; but apprehensively to the understanding. And therefore wee see that many things which are in their Nature Evill; yet out of the particular di­stemper of the Mind, and deceitfulnesse in them, may prove pleasant thereunto. And this is the chiefe Corruption of this Passion, I meane the misplacing, or the undue suspending of it: For al­though strictly in its owne property, it be not an advancement of Nature, nor addes any perfection; but rather weakens it; yet in regard of the refe­rence which it beares either to a superior Law, as testifying our Love unto the Obedience, by our griefe for the breach thereof: or to our consequent Carriage and Actions, as governing them with greater Wisedome and Providence, it may bee said to adde much perfection to the mind of man, because it serves as an inducement to more caute­lous living.

The next Condition in respect of the Object, is, that it be Present, which may fall out either by Memory, and then our Griefe is called Repentance: or Fancy and Suspition, and so it may be called Anx­ [...] of Mind: or by Sense and present union, which is the principall kind, and so I call it Anguish.

For the first, nothing can properly and truly worke Griefe, by ministry of Memory, when the Object or Evill is long since past; but those things which doe withall staine our Nature, and worke impressions of permanent deformity. For as it falleth out, that many things in their exercise pleasant, prove after in their operations offensive and burden some: so on the other side many things [Page 222] which for the time of their continuance are irke­some and heavy, prove yet after occasions of grea­terH [...]b. 12. 11. Ioy. Whether they be means used for the pro­curing of further good.

Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum
[...] in Latium, sedes ubi; &c.
Through various great mishaps & dangers store,
Antad. l. 1. Iliad. [...]4.
We hasten to our home and wished [...]
Where fates do promise rest, where Troy revives,
Only reserve your selves for better lives.

Or whether they b [...] Evils which by our Wise­dome we have broken th [...]ough and avoided;

—sed & [...] olim [...] i [...]vabit.
When we are arrived at ease,
Remembrance of a strome doth please.

The Objects then of Repentance are not our passive, but our active Evils: not the Evils of suffe­ring, but the Evils of doing▪ for the memory of afflictions past, represent [...] unto us Nature loosed and delivered, and should so much the more in­crease our Ioy, by how much redemption is for the most part a more felt blessing than Immunity▪ but the memory of sinnes past represents Nature obliged, guilty, and imprisoned. And so leaves a double ground for Griefe, [...]he staine or pollution, and the guilt or malediction a deformity to the Law, and a curse from it. It would be improper [Page 223] here to wander into a digression touching Repen­tance, only in a word it is then a Godly Sorrow, when it proceeds from the memory of Evill; not so much in respect of the punishment as of the staine. When we grieve more because our sin hath made us unholy, then because it hath made us unhappy; and not only because we are runne into the danger of the Law, but because we are run out of the way of the Law. When it teacheth us to cry, not only with Pharaoh, take away this Plague; but with Isra­el in the Prophet, take away Iniquity.

Concerning Griefe of Preoccupation, arising out of a suspitious Feare and expectation of Evill, I know not what worth it can have in it, unlesse haply thus, that by fore-accustoming the MindPracogliati m [...]li m [...]llis ictus. [...] ▪ Epist. 77. Uid. Cic. Tusc. qu. l. 3. to Evill, it is the better strengthned to stand under it: For Evils by praemeditation, are either pre­vented or mitigated, the Mind gathering strength and wisedome together to meet it. And therefore it is prudent advise of Plutarch, that wee shouldPl [...]t. de [...]. have a prepared Minde, which when any Evill fal­leth out, might not be surprised by it. To say as Anaxagoras did when he heard of the death of his Sonne, sciome genuisse mortalem, I know that I be▪ gat a mortall Sonne. I know that my riches had wings, and that my comforts were mutable. Pre­parednesse composeth the Minde to patience. Vlysses wept when he saw his Dogge, which he did not when he saw his Wife: he came prepared for the one, but was surprised by the other.

Hunc ego si potui tantum sperare dolorem,
Et perferre soror potero.
Had I foreseene this Griefe, or could but feare it,
I then should have compos'd my selfe to beare it.

Which is the reason why Philosophers pre­scribe the whole course of a Mans Life, to be only a meditation upon Death; because that being so great an Evill in it selfe, and so sure to us, it ought to be so expected, as that it may not come sudden, and find us unprepared to meet the King of Ter­rour. For it is in the property of custome and ac­quaintance, not only to alleviate and asswage evils (to which purpose Seneca speakes, perdidisti tot Consolatio ad Helviam. mala si nondum misera esse didicisti, thou hast lost thy afflictions if they have not yet taught thee to be miserable) but further as Aristotle notes, to work some manner of delight in things, at first trouble­some and tedious; and therefore hee reckoneth [...] [...]. l. 1. mourning amongst pleasant things, and teares are by Nature made the witnesses as well of Ioy as of Griefe.

[...]
Odiss. l▪ [...]. 2.
He kist the shore, fast teares ran from his eyes,
When he his native Countrey first espyes.

And Seneca (whither Philosophically or Rheto­rically) observes, that obstinacy and resolvednesse [Page 225] in griefe, doth so alter the nature of it, ut fiat tan­dem infelicis animi prava voluptas dolor. That atEt quadam etiam dolend, volup [...]. Plin. l. 8. ep. c. 6. length it turnes into a kind of pleasant paine, sure I am the Apostle biddeth us count it Ioy, when wee fall into temptations.

The last presence of Grief was Reall, when some ponderous evill either of Affliction or of Sinne, the losse of some good wherein we delighted, the disappointment of some hope whereon we relyed meeting with impotency in our selves, to remove what we suffer, to recover what wee lose, to supply what we want, doth bruise and lie with a heavy weight upon the tenderest part of Man, his Soule and Spirit. And in this I cannot find considered meerly in it selfe any worth at all (it being no­thing else but the violation and wounding of Na­ture) but in order to the effects which it produ­ceth, it may have sundry denominations, either of a serviceable, or of a corrupt affection. I shall but briefly name them, and passe over to the next.

The profitable effects are principally these: First, as it is an instrument of publique administra­tion & discipline. It is as it were both a School­masterClem. Alex. Paedag. l. 1. c. 8. and a Phisitian, to teach and to cure: so the Philosopher telleth us, that by pleasure and pain,Ethic. l. 10. c. 1. Calamitates remedia. Sen de Tranq. l. 1 c. 9. Psal. 94. 12. Psal. 119. 71. Ier. 22. 21. Children are trained up unto Arts and Sciences, the Rod being unto the Mind, as a Rudder unto a Ship: so the Prophet David putteth chastisement and instruction together: Blessed is the man whom thou chastenest, and teacheth out of thy law, and again, [...]t is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learne thy Commandements. Therefore God [Page 226] the Law in the Wildernesse, where the people wereGrande [...] [...]genium mi­s [...]r sq, ve [...]it soler [...] reb [...]. in want and under discipline: to note that Griefe is a good instrument unto learning; for after in their prosperity they would not heare.

And as it is a means to teach, so it is a means to cure too; for therefore paine is usually made the matter of punishment, that as Men offend by sin­fullEthic. l. 2. c. 3. pleasure, so they may bee amended by wholsome sorrow. [...] Cures are usually wrought by contraries.

Againe, it doth by Experience strengthen andSen. de [...]tio, Sapient. c. 4. harden, making both wise and able, for enduring further calamities, quos Deus a [...]at, indurat & exer­cet. Epist. 67. God exerciseth and traineth those whom he loves, bringing them up non in delicijs sed in ca­stris, not in Paradise, but in a Wildernesse. Now as the Philosopher speaketh, [...].Ethic. l 3. c. 8. Experience is a kind of fortitude and armour, whereby a man contemneth, [...] many things which are indeed, but terriculamenta, skar-crowes to ignorant and weake minds. Wher­as when paines have wrought patience, and pati­ence experience of an issue and escape, that expe­rience armes the Soule unto more patience in new assaults. For if Gold were a rationall crea­ture, [...] ▪ &c. [...]. Hec. Vid. Plut. l. de Adul [...]. & [...] Co [...]sol. ad Apo [...]onium Plut. de A [...]d. having past through the fire and kept its own Nature unviolate, it would never after be the lesse afraid of the fire. And as Plutarch excellently speaketh, A wise Man should be like gold, to keep his Nature in the fire. Strangers dislike many things in a place, which those, that are home-born, and used unto, do easily digest: thus the Apostle [Page 227] argueth, God hath delivered, and doth deliver;2 Cor. 1. 9. 10. therefore he will deliver. So Vlysses in Homer.

[...].
Odyss. [...] 222.
I'le beare with a firme mind, what ere comes more,
Having endur'd so many Griefes before.

And elsewhere on the same manner he incou­raged his companions on the Sea.

[...], &c.
Odyss. [...] 208.
Sirs, w' are not now to learne what sorrowes are,
Having felt so many; and this now by farre
Comes short of that which we endured then,
When the proud Cyclops shut us in his den:
Yet that we scap't, he of his prey did misse,
Hereafter we shall joy to think of this.

Plut. de Ad. & A [...]ic. & de Sa [...]it. [...]. V [...] Crudum ad­huc vul [...]s me­dentium manu [...] reformidat, de­inde patitur, a [...] (que) ultro requirit. Sic Recens ani­mi Dolor Conso­latione [...] rejici [...] at (que) refugit, mox [...] & cle­menter admoti [...] acquiescit. Plin. Ep. l 5 c. 16. Vid Plut. Cons. ad Apoll. Thus as Iron which hath passed through the fire, being quenched, is harder than it was before: so the Mind having passed through troubles, is the more hardened to endure them againe. And therefore it is wise advice which learned Men give, to let Griefes have a time to breath, and not to endeavour the stopping of them, while they are in Impetu, and in their first rising. As Phisiti­ans suffer humours to ripen, and gather to some head, before they apply medicines unto them. When time hath a little concoted Griefe, and experience hardened and instructed Nature to [Page 228] under it. It doth then willingly admit of those remedies, which being unseasonably apply­ed it rejecteth and resisteth.Ovid de Re­med. Amor. l 1.

Quis matrem nisi mentis inops in funere nati
Flere vetat? non hoc illa monenda loco est.
[...] Sophoc. [...]dip. Ty [...].
Cum dederit lachrymas animum (que) expleverit aegrum,
Ille dolor verbis emoderandus erit.
Who would forbid a Mother then to mourne,
When her Sons ashes are warme in his urne?
But when she's cloyd with tears, & sorrow's rage
Is over, Counsell then may Griefe asswage.

Whereas before it doth rather exasperate than allay it. For of all Passions, this of Griefe doth lest admit of a simple cure from the dictates of Reason, except it have a time given it too, wherein it may like unto [...]. &c. Alexis. new Wine, defer­vescere, slack, and come to its just temper again.

The last profitable effect is feare and suspition, care or sollicitousnesse to avoid those evils which oppresse our Nature; a cautelous discourse and consultation of reason, how it may either escape or prevent the evils which Experience hath taught it to decline, as a burnt child the fire. For all Passions so long as they collect reason, and set that on work, are of good use in the minds of Men; and indeed, the counsels and commu­nionOf this medi­cine we read in Homer. of right reason alone, grounded on and guided by Religion, are only that Nepenthes and medicine against Griefe, which who so mixeth [Page 229] and applyeth aright, shall not spend not load [...]. [...] 211. Plin. l. 21. c. 21. [...]. Sympos. l. [...]. c. 1. Macr [...]. l. 7. c. 1 Clem. Ale [...]. in [...]. Na­zion. Car [...]in. [...] pa­tris ad [...]ium. himself with unusefull sorrow. Thuy as Bee [...] doe poise themselves with little gravell stones, that they may not be carried away with the wind, which the Poet hath elegantly expressed:

——saepe Lapillos,
Vt Cyr [...]ba instabiles fluctu jactante saburra [...]
Geo [...]g. [...] 4. [...]. lib. de sol [...]t. [...].
Tollunt, his ses [...]per inania [...]bila librant.
As Ships with ballace, so the little Bee
With gravel's pois'd, that he may steady flee.

So patience and wisedome in the bearing of one sorrow, doth keep the mind in a stable condi­tion against any other. A man doth never over­grieve,Iliud [...] 65. that keeps his [...] open to counsell, and his reason to judgement above his Passion.

The evill effects of griefe commonly followes [...], &c. Eurip. H [...]cub. the excesse of it, and they respect the Reason, the Will, and the Body, in the Reason, it worketh distra­ctions, irresolution, and weaknesse [...] by drawing the maine straine of it, rather to a fearefull con­templation of it's owne misery, then to a fruitfull Discourse how to avoide it, for as the motions of a wounded Body, so the Discourses of a woun­ded Minde are faint, uncertaine and tottering.

Secondly, in the Will, it wo [...]keth first Despaire, for it being the propertic of griefe to condensate and as it were on all sides besiege the Minde, the more violent the Passion is, the lesse appa­rant are the Passages out of it. So that in an ex­tremity [Page 230] of anguish where the Passages are in themselves narrow, and the reason also blind and weake to finde them out, the Minde is const [...] ned having no Object but it's owne pai [...]e to re flect upon, to fall into a darke and fearefull con­templation of it's owne sad estate, and marvel­lous high and patheticall aggravations of it, as if it were the greatest which any man felt. Not considering that it feeles it's owne sorrow, but knowes not the weight of other mens. Whereas if all the calamities of mortall men were heaped into one Storehouse, and from thence every man were to take an equall portion. S [...]crates was wont to say that each man would rather choose to goe away with his owne paine.

And from hence it proceedeth to many other effects, fury, sinfull wishes and ex [...]rations both against it selfe and any thing, that concurred to it's being in misery, as we see in Israel in the Wildernesse & that mirror of Patience Iob him­selfe; [...]. 14. 2. Iob 3. 1. and Ier. 20. 14. Is [...]i. 8. 21. and thus Homer bringeth in Vlysses in des paire under a sore tempest bewailing himselfe.

[...].
O [...]iss. [...] 306.
Thrice foure times happy Grecians who did fall
To gratifie their friends under Troy wall.
Oh that I there had rendred my last breath,
When Trojan darts made me a marke for Death,
Then glorious Rites my Funerals had attended,
But now my life will be ignobly ended.

Another evill effect is to indispose and disable [Page 231] for Dutie, both because Griefe doth refrigerateArist. Prob. Se [...]. 11. Quest. 13. [...] [...] 130. [...] (as the Pilosopher telleth us) and that is the worst temper for action; and also diverts the Minde, from any thing, but that which feeds it, and therefore David in his sorrow forgot to eate his bread, because eating and refreshing of Na­ture is a mittigating of Griefe, as Pliny telleth us. And lastly, because it weakneth, distracteth and discourageth the Minde, making it soft and ti­merous, apt to bode evils unto it selfe.

—Crudelis ubique luctus ubique pa [...]or.
Dolor Cib [...]. [...] Pl [...]n. l. 22. c. 14.
Griefe and feare goe usually together.

And therefore when Aeneas was to encourage his friends unto Patience and action, he was for­ced to dissemble his owne sorrow.

—Curisque ingentibus ager
[...]. 2.
Spem vultu simulat, premit altum corde dolorem.
Although with heavy cares and doubts distrest,
His looks fain'd hopes and his heart griefes sup­prest.

And it is an excellent description in Homer of the fidelity of Antilochus when he was comman­ded to relate unto Achilles, the sad newes of Pa­troclus death. [...]. 1. C [...]nfilium [...] [...]egit & [...] [...] [...].

[...] &c.
When Menelaus gave him this command,
Antilochus astonished did stand.
Aen [...]ad. 4.
[Page 232]Smitten with dumbnesse through his griefe and feares,
[...].
His voyce was stopt, and his eyes swamme inteares.
Yet none of all this griefe did duty stay,
He left his Armes whose weight might cause delay.
And went, and wept and ran, with dolefull word,
That great Patroelus fell by Hectors sword.

[...]. [...] In a tempest saith Seneca, that Pilot is to be [...]. commended, whom the shipwracke swalloweth up at the Sterne, with the Rudd [...]r in his hand.

And it was the greatest honour of Mary Mag. dalene, that when above all other, she wept for the losse of Christ, yet then of all other she was most diligent to seeke him.

Lastly, in the body there is no other Passion that doth produce stronger, or more lasting in­conveniences by pressure of heart, obstruction of spirit, wasting of strength, drynesse of bones, ex­hausting of Nature. Griefe in the heart, is like a Moath in a garment, which biteth asunder, as it were the strings and the strength thereof, stop­peth the voyce, looseth the joynts, withereth the flesh, shrivelleth the skinne, dimmeth the eyes, cloudeth the countenance, defloureth the beau­ty, troubleth the bowels, in one word, disordereth the whole frame.

Now this Passion of griefe is distributed into many inferiour kindes, as Griefe of Sympathy for the evils and calamities of other men, * as if they were our owne, considering that they may like­wise be fall us or ours which is called mercy, griefe of [...]. repining at the good of another man, as if his [Page 233] happinesse were our misery: As that Pillar which was light unto Israel to guide them, was darknesse unto the Egyptians, to trouble and amaze them, which is called Envie. Griefe of [...]. Fretfulnesse at the prosperity of evill and un­worthy men, which is called Indignation, griefe of Indigence when we finde our selves want those good things which others enjoy, which we envie not unto them, but desire to enjoy them our selves too, which is called Emulation, griefe of Guilt for evill committed, which is called Repen­tance, and griefe of Feare for evill expected, which is called Despaire, of which to discourse would be over-tedious, and many of them are most lear­nedly handled by Aristotle in his Rhetoricks. And therefore I wall here put an end to this Passion.

CHAP. XXIII. Of the affection of Hope, the Object of it, Good Future, Possible, Difficult, of Regu­lar and Inordinate Despaire.

THe next Ranks and Series, is of Irascible Passions, namely those which respect their Object, as annexed unto some degree of Difficulty, in the obtaining, o [...] avoiding of it, the first of which is Hope, whereby I understand an earnest and strong in­clination [Page 254] and expectation of some great good apprehended as possible to be obtained, though not by our owne strength, nor without some in­tervenient Difficulties. I shall not collect thoseIliad. [...] 794. [...] Suida [...]. [...] [...]. prayses which are commonly bestowed upon it, nor examine the contrary extreames of those who declaime against it, making it a meanes ei­ther of augmenting an unexpected evill, before not sufficiently prevented, or of deflowring a fu­ture good too hastily pre-occupated, but shall onely touch that dignity and corruption which I shall observe to arise from it, with reference to it's Objects, Causes, and Effects.

Concerning the Object or fundamentall cause of Hope, It hath these three conditions in it, That it be a Future, a Possible, a Difficult Good.

First, Future, for good present is the Object of [...]. our sense, but Hope is of things not seene, for herein is one principall difference betweene divine Faith, and divine Hope, that Faith being [...]. The substance of things hoped f [...]r, [...] ever respect to it's Object, as in some manner present and subsisting in the promises and first fruits which we have of it, so that the first effect of Faith is a present Interest and Title; but theHebr. 11. operation of Hope is waiting and expectation, but yet it will not from hence follow, that the more a man hath of the presence of an Object, the lesse he hath of Hope towards it, for though Hope be swallowed up in the compleat presence of it's Object, yet it is not at all diminished but [Page 235] encreased rather by a partiall presence, and as in Massie bodies though violent motions be in the weakest, as being furthest from the strength that impelled them, yet naturall are ever swiftest to­wards the Center, as nearest approaching unto the place that drawes them: so in the Hope [...] of men, though such as are violent and groundle [...]sse proove weaker and weaker, and so breake out at last into emptinesse and vapour. In which res­pect [...]. [...] 2 Pet. 3. 12. * Philosophers have called Hope the dreames of waking men; like that of the Musitian whom Dionissiu [...] deceived with an empty promise, of which I spake before: yet those that are stayed and naturall, are evermore strong, when they have procured a larger measure of presence and union to their Object, Qu [...] propius accedimus ad spem fruendi eò impatientius caremus. The nearer we come to the fruition of a good, the more impati­ent we are to want it.

And the reason is because Goodnesse is better knowne, when it is in an nearer view of the under­standing, and more unite thereunto. And the more we have of the knowledge of goodnesse, the more we have of the Desire of it, if any part be absent. Besides all greedinesse is attractive, and therefore the more we know of it, the faster we hasten to it. And it is the nature of good to en­crease the sense of the remainders of evill. So that, though the number of our defects be lesse­ned by the degrees of that good we have obtai­ned unto, yet the burthen and molestation of [Page 236] them is increased, and therefore the more posses­sion we have of good, the greater is our wearine [...] of evill, and the more Nature sceleth her de­fects, the more doth she desire her restaura­tion.

The next condition in the Object of our Hope is possibility, for though the will sometimes being inordinate may be tickled with a desire of im­possibilities, under an implicit [...] condition, if they were not so, yet no hope whither regular or cor­rupt can respect it's object under that apprehen­sion. It worketh two passions most repugnant to this, hatred and despaire, the one being a proud opposition, the other a dreadfull flight, from that good, in which the mind perceiveth an impossibility of attaining it. Now the apprehen­sion of possibility is nothing else but a conceit of the convenience and proportion, betweene the true meanes unto an end hoped, and the strength of those powers which are to worke or bestow them; or if they be such ends as are wrought without any such meanes, by the bare and im­mediate hand of the worker', it is an apprehen­sion of convenience, betwixt the will and power of him that bestoweth it.

Here then because I finde not any arguments of large discourse in the opposite passion, (unlesse we would passe sró natural or morall unto Theo­logicall handling thereof) we may observe what manner of despair is only regular & allowable, I mèan that wch in matters of importance drives us [Page 237] out of our selves, or any presumption and opinion of our own sufficiency. But that despaire which riseth out of a groundlesse unbeliefe of the Power, or distrust of the Goodnesse of a superiour Agent (especially in those things which depend upon the Will and Omnipotency of God) hath a dou­ble corruption in it, both in that it defiles, and in that it ruines Nature: defiles, in that it conceives basely of God himself, in making our guilt more omnipotent than his Power, and sinne more hurt­full than he is good: ruines, in that the minde is thereby driven to a flight and damnable con­tempt of all the proper means of recovery.

Of this kind of Despaire, there are three sorts: The one Sensual, arising out of an excessive love of Good, Carnal, and Present; and out of a secure contempt of Good, Spiritual, and Future. Like that of the Epicures, Let us eat and drink while we1 Co. 15. may, To morrow we shall die: The other Sluggish, Desperatione [...] [...], ex­periri nolunt quod se ass [...]qui possed ffidunt. Cic. in Oral. ad B [...]utum. which dis-hearteneth and indisposeth for Action, causing men to refuse to make experiments about that wherin they conclude before hand that they shall not succeed: The third Sorrowfull, arising from deep and strong apprehensions of Feare, which betrayeth and hideth the succours upon which Hope should be sustained: as in the great Tempest wherein Saint Paul suffered shipwrack; when the Sunne and Starres were hid, and no­thing but Terrour to be scene: All Hope that they Act. 27. 20. should be saved, was taken away.

The last condition in the object of Hope, was Difficulty, I mean in respect of our own abilities, [Page 238] for the procuring of the Good we hope for; and therefore Hope hath not only an eye to Bonu [...], Spe▪ [...], si vi [...]es, pecu [...], con [...]lum, se en­tiá, apparatió. Cic. de Invent. ad H [...]an. the good desired; but to Auxilium too, the help which conferres it. No man waiteth for that which is absolutely in his own power to bestow upon himselfe; Omnis expectati [...] est ab extrinseco, all Hope is an attendant Passion, and doth ever rely upon the Will and Power of some superiour causes, by dependance whereupon it hath some good warrant to attaine its desires.

And thus in Divine Hope, God is in both re­spects the Object of it, both per modum Boni, as the Good Desired, & per modum Auxilii, as the Ayde whereby we enjoy him. So that herein all those Hopes are corrupt & foolish, which are grounded either on an error concerning the Power to help in some assistants; or cōcerning the Will in others (as indeed generally a blinde and mis-led judgement doth nourish Passion;) Of the former sort, are the Hopes of base & degenerous minds in their depē ­dance upon second and subordinate means, with­outIob 31. 24. [...]r. 17. 5. Psal. 62. 9. Rom. 3. 4. Iob 6. 15, 16. having recourse to the first supreme Cause; wch is to trust in lying vanities; for every man is a lyar, either by Impotency, whereby he may faile us; or by Imposture, whereby he may delude us.

Of the other sort, are the Hopes of those who presume on the helps and wils of others, without ground & warrant of such a confidence; whence ariseth a sluggish and carelesse security, blindly reposing it selfe upon such helps, without endea­vouring to procure them unto our selves.

And this is the difference betweene Despaire [Page 239] and Presumption: Hope looketh on a good future, a [...] possible indeed in it selfe; but with all as diffi­cult to us, and not to be procured but by Industry and labour. Now Despaire leaveth out the ap­prehension of possibility, and looketh onely on the hardnesse: on the other side, Presumption ne­ve [...] regardeth the hardnesse, but buildeth onely upon the possibility. And this is spes m [...]rtua, that dead Hope, which by the rule of opposition, wee may gather from the life of Hope, spoken of by S. Peter: For a lifely Hope worketh such a tran­quillity of minde; as is grounded on some cer­tainty and knowledge; it is [...] Luminosa, a Peace springing out of Light; but dead Hope worketh a rest grounded onely on ignorance, such as is the security of a dreaming prisoner, which is rather sencelesnesse than Peace [...] and this is Ten [...]brosa [...]ax, a Peace springing out of Darknesse; for a true Peace is quiet ex fide, a beleeving rest; but counter­feit is only quies ex somno, a sleeping or dreaming rest. The Peace which comes from a living Hope must have these two properties in it, tranquillity and serennity: otherwise it is but like the rest of mare mortuum, whose unmovablenesse is not Na­ture, but a curse.

CHAP. XXIV. Of the causes of Hope, Want, and Weakenesse together, Experience and Knowledge. In what sence Ignorance may be said to streng­then, and Knowledge to weaken Hope: Ex­amples quicken more than Precept. Provi­sion of Ayds: the uncertainty of outward means to establish Hope, Goodnesse of Na­ture, Faith and Credulity, wise Confidence.

THe next things to be confide­red, are the causes of this Passi­on: the first impulsive cause of Hope is our Want, & our Weake­nesse put together, the one dri­ving us ad Bonum, to the Object; the other ad Auxili­um, to the Aid (and wheresoever there is Indigence, there is Impotence likewise.) Now in what man soever we finde these two unsupplyed, there is the root and fundamentall ground of Hope; notwith­standing for the defects of other conditions, the creature may be carried to the quite opposite Pas­sion▪ out of an apprehension of an inevitable sub­jection unto evill, and utter banishment from the fountaine of good. So then of those three estates of man; the estate of Fruition, which is their Sab­bath and rest; the estate of Travell, which is the day [Page 241] of worke, and the estate of damnation, which is the night of despaire: In the first we have the ac­complishment; in the third the finall overthrow; in the second the exercise of our Hopes:) because in that alone our Indigence may by Gods fulnesse be filled, and our Impotence by his Will and Power supplyed. In which respect, all men have roome for Hope to enjoy God their last Good; though not a hope of Confidence, assurance, and Expectation, which is peculiar only unto the godly (who alone have a present interest in his promises;) yet such a generall Hope as may well suffice to s [...]op the mouth of any temptation, whereby we are solici­ted to undervalue the Power, or to conclude the unwillingnesse of God to help us.

The next cause of Hope is Experience and knowledge, both in the nature of the thing hoped for, and of the means conducing to the attain ment thereof. For notwithstanding it may often fall out, that ignorance of things, and the not try­all of our strength or others opposition, or of the difficulties of the Object, may with hot and ea­ger minds, worke presumptions of successe, and an empty and ungrounded Hope (which is the reason why young men and drunken men are both observed by Aristotle to be [...], men of strong [...]. l. 2 c. 12. E. bi [...]. l. 3. c. 8. Hopes) being naturally or by distemper bold and opinionative: even as on the other side, strength and acutenesse of understanding; because it sees so farre into the Object, workes often diffidence,Li [...]. 4. ep. 7. [...]. l. 2. c. 13. slownesse and irresolution in our Hopes: as Pliny out of Thucydides observes; and the Philosopher [Page 242] likewise of old m [...]n, that they are [...] men slow in th [...]ir Hopes; because of great ex­perience;) yet for all this, if we do observe it, both the former of these proceeds from some opinion of knowledg, as the later doth from some opinion of ignorance: For of drunken men, and those whom in the same place he compares unto them, Aristotle saith, they are therefore confident▪ quia seputant superiores, because they beleeve much in their owne strength. And of young men hee faith in the same place of his Rhetoricks, [...] they are peremptory in the opinion of their owne knowledge; whereas, on the other side, as a [...]ame man placed upon some high Tower, can overview with his eye more ground, than hee hath hope to overrun with his feet in a whole day▪ so men that have attained unto some good pitch of knowledge, & are withall not insensible of their own weaknes, out of the vastnes of distance which they discover between themselves and their end, doe easily frame unto themselves as narrow Hopes, as they doe large desires; but then thi [...] proceeds not from that knowledge which we have properly▪ but only as it serves to discover unto us, how much knowledge we want.

So then properly knowledge and experience is the cause of Hope; experience I say, either of the con­querablenesse of the Object by our owne means: or of the sufficiency of the Power, and readinesse of the Will of him from whom wee expect fur­ther assistance: For a [...] there is lesse casualty, and by consequence, more presumption to be had of [Page 243] an event of art th [...]n of fortune (the one procee­ding [...]. Chilo apud La­ [...]. l. 1. from a gouern'd, the other from a blind and contingent cause) so consequently there is grea­ter hope & confidence to be given to the successe of an enterprise, grounded on experience, than of one ignorantly and rashly adventured on. Experi­ence [...] as the Philosopher observeth, the RootMe [...]. l. 1. c. 1. of Art▪ [...] unexperience [...] of sort [...].

Now this Experience may be such, either as our selves have had, or such as we have observed other [...] to have▪ [...] which we have from our selves is the most forcible to [...] this affection, be­cause every man is the best [...] of his owne abilities. And it is that which [...] forth influ­ence and force into all our actions; nothing could more assure the hopes of David in his encounter with G [...]liah, than an experience formerly had against creatures every way as formidable, a Lyon and a Beare, wherein notwithstanding they were the sheep of Iesse, and not of God that were endan­gered. Thus the eye of Faith and Hope looketh both backward upon the memory of actions past, and forward with courage and resolution on se­cond enterprises: For though in some cases it be requisite with Saint Paul to forget that which is past, when the remembrance of it may be an oc­casion of sloath, wearinesse, and distrust; yet there may a happy use be made of a seasonable memo­ry in matters of difficulty, wherein haply our for­mer successefull resolutions and patience may upbraid our present fears, and sharpen our langui­shing and sluggish Hopes. O passi graviora, was the [Page 244] best Argument which hee could have used to put his fellowes in confidence of that which hee added:

—Dabit De [...] his quo (que) [...]inem.
Since other greater griefes you have found ease,
Doubt not, but God will put an end to these,

And in that great battell between Scipio and Hannibal, ad a [...]nem Ticinam; though the victory by reason of the excellency of the Generall, fell to the adverse part; yet the Romane Generall could not have used a more effectuall perswasion unto Hope, than when hee told his souldiers that they were to enter on a warre with those men who were as much their slaves as their enemies, as being such whom they had formerly themselves over­come, Cum ijs est vobis pugnandum quos priore bell [...] terrâ▪ mari (que) vicistis. You are to joyne battell with those whom in the former warre you conquered both by Land and Sea. A strong inducement; though that in such a case, the feare of a second overthrow would more necessitate the one, than the hope of a second victory persuade the other to courage and resolution▪ As we see in the hot bat­tell between the Greekes and the Trojans, when Hector had driven the Grecians into their ships, and set some of them on fire, which is thus ele­gantly described by Homer:

[...]
[...]liad: [...]04.
[...]
[...].
These were the mutuall motions did engage
[...].
The minds of Greeks and Trojans on this rage.
The Grecians all despair'd to escape the blow,
Deeming themselves neer to an overthrow.
But former victory in those of Troy,
[...].
Kindled a Hope another to enjoy.
They boldly promis'd to themselves the day,
The Grecians ships to burne, and then to slay,
Thus hope of victory inflam'd the one,
Th' other were more inflam'd, 'cause they had none.

That Experience from others, which may enli­ven and perfect our Hope, in the applying their ex­amples and successes to our owne encourage­ments. For since the nature of most men is like that of flocks, to tread in one anothers steps (Pre­cidents having the same precedence to reason in vulgar judgements, which a living and accompa­nying guide hath to a Mercuryes finger in a Tra­vellers conceipt; the one only pointing too, but the other leading in the way. And as I finde it observed, that running mettall will sooner melt other of its owne kind, than fire alone: So the ex­amples of vertue will sooner allure and prevaile with the minds of men, to frame them to the like resolutions, than a naked and empty speculation of Precepts. It hath pleased Nature to make man, not onely a morall, but a sociable creature, that [Page 246] so when his Hopes towards good should languish and grow slacke by any conceived prejudices against the reason of Precepts, they may againe be strengthened by the common and more obvious and common sense of examples.

Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures,
Horace.
[...].
Quam quae sunt oculis Commissa fidelibus—
Those things more sluggishly our minds excite,
Which enter at the eares, than at the sight.

Sight which is the sense of Example, is oftner imployed in the government of our Passions, than Hearing, which is the sense of Precept. And there­fore when the Poet would sit an advise for the per­son of Ascanius, hee doth not bring any tedious, thorny, morall discourse; but he works upon that affection which is most predominant in ingenu­ous and noble Natures.

—Te animo repetentem exempla tuorum, Et Pater Aen [...], & Avanculus excitet Hector.
Recont the brave examples of thy bloud,
And what thou hast in them seen great and good,
Let be thy Patterne, that the World may see
Father and Vncle both alive in thee.

For though an Argument from Example, to prop a sainting Hope be weakest in respect of convincing demonstration; yet it is strongest, in [Page 247] respect of morall and persuasive insinuation, as inferring greater descredit upon a sluggish and unnecessary despaire. And therefore they were [...]. brave instructions which Agamemnon gaue unto Menelaus, when he commanded him to goe into the Army of the Grecians, and animate them un­to the battell.

[...]
[...]
[...].
Run through the Army, cry, encourage all,
Mind them of their Progenitors, and call
Each by his Name, prayse them, and let us too
What we command to others, our selves doe.

It is true indeed that some men are blessed with a greater e [...]cellency of gifts than others; yet we are not to thinke that any man was ever made, as Seneca speaks of Cato, In convitium humani gene­ris, for a reproach of mens weaknesse, rather than for an example and incouragement of their acti­ons: or for astonishment rather than emulation unto others. This being one end of Nature, in framing men of great vertues, not onely that wee might wonder and beleeve, and know that the same things which for the greatnesse of them, are the objects of our admiration, may as well for their possibility be the objects of our Hope; and the incouragements of our industry.

The third cause of Hope, may be large furniture with, or strong dependance upon the assistant mean [...] [Page 248] of what is hoped for Helps in any enterprize are in stead of head and hands, to advance a man [...] de­signe, which likewise is elegantly exprest by Dio­medes and S [...]rpedon in Homer:

[...]
[...]
[...] [...].
Iliad▪ 222, &c.
If any second would accompany,
[...] 410.
My hopes and courage would the greater [...]e:
For when two joyne, the one may haply note
What the other everpass'd▪ or if he kn [...]w it,
His counsell would be weake, and his mind slow,
When he should execute what he do's kn [...]w.

And according as these means, which wee rely upon, have more or lesse power or certainty in them; they are foundations of a more Regular o [...] Corrupt Hope such are wealth▪ friends, wit, policy, power, or the like. All which can be causes onely of a hope of probability, but not of certainty; because they are all means which are sub [...]ect to [...] age, and are also subject to the Providence of God, who only can establish and give finall secu­rity to our hopes, as being such an Assistant, in whom there is neither weaknesse nor mutability, which should move him to disappoint us.

All other ayds have two ill qualities in them; they have wings, and therefore can easily forsake us▪ and they have thornes, and therefore if we leane2. Chron. 28. [...]0. 21. [...]. 29. 6, 7. too hard on them, they may chance in stead of helping, to hurt us. The best promises which [Page 249] earthly Aydes can make, are bounded by adou­ble condition.

[...].
Iliad. ▪ 391.
If the thing ly [...] within my power to doe,
And divine Providence permits it too.

Here then we may discover Corruption in this Passion, when the mind ready upon every present approhension to play the Proph [...]t in forecasting future events, shall out of weake grounds, and too high a conceipt of those means which it hath, so build unto it selfe peremptory imaginations for the future, as that thereby it is made in it selfe light & opinionative, and upon occasion of disap­pointment, is to seeke of that patience to sustaine it, which by a wise intermixtion of feare and cau­tion might have been retained.

And as there is an errour in the [...]rust and affi­ance, so there may be in the use of those means: For though divine Hope hath but one Anchor to rest upon, and therefore hath but one manner of being produced; yet these lower Hopes, of which I speake, doe alwaies depend upon the concurrence of divers means, and those likewise have their refe­rence unto divers circumstances. And therefore those which have not the wisdome of combining their Ayd [...]s, and of fitting them unto casuall oc­currences, may to no end nourish in themselves imaginary and empty presumptions. And this is that which maketh all worldly hopes so full of [Page 250] lightnesse and uncertainties, Leves spes & cer [...]ami­nas, Hora [...]. as the Poet calleth them; because it may fall out, that the neglect of but some one circum­stance; the not timeing or placing our actions right; the not accommodating our means to the variety of of occasions; the miscarrying in some one complement or ceremony; the having of our minds, either too light and voluble; or too fixed and constant▪ or too spread and wandring; or too narrow and contracted; or too credulous and fa­cile; or too diffident and suspitious; or too pe­remptory, resolute, or hasty; or too slow, anxious, and discursive; or too witty and facetious▪ or too serious and morose, with infinite other the like weaknesses (some whereof there is not any man quite freed from) may often notwithstanding the good store of other ayds, endanger and shipwrack the successe of our endeavours: so that in the pro­secution of a hope, there is something alike indu­stry, to be used as in the tryall of Mathematicall conclusions, the Mediums whereunto are so tou­ched and dependant upon one another, that not diligently to observe every one of them, is to la­bour in vaine, and have all to doe againe.

A fourth cause of Hope, may be Goodnesse and fa­cility [...]. [...]. Alex. [...]. l. 2. of Nature, whereby we finde a disposition in our selves of readinesse, to further any mans pur­poses and desires, and to expect the like from o­thers; for it is the observation of Aristotle, tou­ching young men, sud ipsorum innocentiâ cateros [...]. l. 2. [...]. 1 [...]. metiuntur. Their own goodnesse makes them cre­dulous of the like in others. For as every mans [Page 251] prejudice loves to find his owne will and opinion▪ so doth his charity to find his owne goodnesse in another man. They therefore who are soft and facile to yeeld, are likewise to beleeve, and dare trust them whom they are willing to pleasure. And this indeed is the Rule of Nature, which makes a mans selfe the Patterne of what it makes his Neighbour the Object.

Now from this facility of Nature proceeds a further cause of Hope; to wit, Faith and Credulity, in relying on the promises which are made for the furtherance thereof: For promises are obligati­ons, and men use to reckon their obligations in the Inventory of their estate: so that the promises of an able friend, I esteem as part of my substance. And this is an immediate Antecedent of Hope, which according as the Authority whereon it re­lles, is more or lesse sufficient and constant, is like­wise more or lesse evident and certaine.

And in these two, the Corruption chiefly is not to let Iudgement come betweene them and our Hopes.

For as he said of Lovers, we may of Hopes too, that oftentimes sibi somnia fing [...]nt, they build more upon Imagination than Reality. And then if what Tacitus speakes in another sense, fingunt, credunt (que) if our facility faine assistances, and our credulity rely upon them, there will issue no other than Ixious Hope, a Cloud for Inno. And there­fore [...]. l. 2. Aristotle out of an easinesse to Hope, collects in young men, an easinesse to be deceived, credu­lity very often m [...]ets with Impostures. And hee [Page 252] elsewhere placeth credulous, modest, quiet andRhet. l. 1. friendly men amongst those who are obnoxious to injuries and abuses. Proud and abusive men making it one of their pleasures to delude and mislead the ingenuity of others: and as once Apel­les, to deceive the expectation of another with a Curtaine for a Picture.

The last cause (which I shall but name) of Hope, is wise confidence, or a happy mixture of bold­nesse, Constancy, and Prudence together; the one to put on upon an enterprize; the other, to keep on when difficulties unexpected do occurre; and the third, to guide and mannage our selves amidst those difficulties: For as he said in studies, so wee may in actions likewise (when thus swayed and ballanced) Altiús [...]unt, qui ad sum [...]a [...]ituntur. TheQuintil. l. 1. in Pr [...]am. Mag [...]a indoli [...] signum est spe­rare semper. [...]lor. l. 4. further wee set our aimes, the more ground wee shall get, and then,

—Possunt quia posse videntur▪
When a man thinks, this I can doe,
By thinking, he gets power too.

And unto this doth the Historian attribute all the successe of Alexanders great victories, Nihil aliud quā benè ausu [...] vana contemnere, his confidenceLiv. l 19. judging them feacible, did by that means get through them. And though it was vehterous; yet as the case might be, it was wise counsell which we finde in the same Historian, Liv. l. 25. [...] Eur. p Hec. Audeamus quod credi, non potest ausuros nos, eo ipso quod difficillimum [Page 253] videtur, facillimum erit. Let us shew our courage inDifficiliora de­bent ess [...] quae exercent, quò sit levius ips [...] illud in quod exercent, Quintil. l. 11. cap. 2. Arist. Ethic. l. 3. c. 7. Ae [...]ad. 10. adventuring on some difficult enterprize, which it might have been thought wee would not have attempted, and then the very difficulty of it will make it the more easie: For our enemies will con­clude that our strength is more than they discover when they see our attempts greater than they could suspect. Thus men teach children to dunce in heavy shooes, that they may begin to conquer the difficult in the learning of the Art. And ther­fore the Philosopher telleth us, that [...] bold men, are men of Hope; for boldnesse suffers not a man to be wanting to himselfe: and there are two Principles which incourage such men upon adventures; the one, audentes fortuna invat. That resolution is usually favoured with successe; or if it misse of that Ovid. Met. l. 2 Tutius certe per plana, sed humilius & depressius itur, [...] currentibus, quam reptan­sibus [...], sed his non laben­tibus nulla laves, illis nonnulla laves etiāsi labā. [...]r. Plin. l. 9. ep. 26. Magnis tamen exidit ausis; yet the honour of attempting a difficulty, is more than discredit of miscarriage in it.

CHAP. XXV. Of the Effects of Hope: Stability of Mind: Wearinesse, arising not out of Weaknesse, Impatience, Suspition, Curiosity; but out of Want, Contention, and forth-putting of the Mind. Patience under the Want, Distance, and Difficulty of Good desires, Waiting upon Ayde expected.

THe Effects of Hope follow, which I will but name: The first is to free the Mind from all such Anxieties as arise out of the Floating, Instability, and Fearefulnesse thereof: For as the Philosopher telleth us,Philosophi quidom erant, qui a sp [...] di [...] ▪ sunt, Elp [...]icisti qui nihil sse pronunciarunt quod vitam Sympos. l. 4 q. 4 mag [...] [...] at (que) [...], Vid. Plut. Fearefull men are [...], hard of Hope: and in this property, Hope is well compared unto an An­chor; because it keeps the Mind in a firme and constant temper, without tottering and instabili­ty: for though there be but one Hope joyned with Certainty as depending upon an immutable pro­mise all other having ground of Feare in them; yet this should be only a Feare of Caution, not of Iealousie and Distrust; because where there is Di­strust in the means, there is for the most part Weaknesse in the use of them; and hee who sus­pects the Ayde which he relyes on, gives it just [Page 255] reason to faile and to neglect him. And therefore Aristotle hath set Hope and Confidence together, as was before noted, [...], a Good Hope is grounded on a Beleefe, and alwaies wor­keth some measure of Affiance in the means un­to it.

A second Effect of Hope, is to worke some kind of Distaste and Wearinesse in our present condi­tion, which according as it is good or evill, doth qualifie the Hope from whence it ariseth: for there is a distaste that ariseth out of Weaknes; likeIob 10. [...]. c. 7. 20 that of Iob, My Soule is weary of my life; I am a burthen unto my selfe. Another that ariseth out of Want, That which ariseth upon Weaknes is a fickle and unconstant mutability of the Mind, whereby it desireth a continuall change of condition: which affection is wrought either out of Impati­ency of opposition; whence the Mind upon the first difficulty which it meets with, is affrighted and discouraged; or out of a Sharpnesse of Apprehension, discovering Insufficiency in that wherein it desi­red content; or out of an Errour, and too highSpe [...] inane [...] quae in medio spa [...]io [...]rangū ­tur & cor [...]ūt & an [...]e in ipso curs [...] obr [...] ­tur quam po [...] ­tum conspi [...]e possu [...]. [...] ▪ d [...] Orat. l. 3. Estimation fore conceived, which in the tryall disappointing our Hopes, and not answering that Opinion, begins to be neglected as weake and de­ceitfull: or lastly, out of Curiosity and Search, when wee suppose that those things which cannot in their nature, may at least in their varieties, num­ber, yeeld some content: and as Sands, which are the smallest things asunder; yet being united, grow great & heavy: so these pleasures, which are alone light and worthlesse, may by their multi­tude [Page 256] bring weight & satisfaction with them. Al­though herein the Minde is likely most of all to find Solomons Vanity; the Vnion of things subor­dinate, and which have no Cognation each to other (which is the property of worldly delights) working rather Distraction than Tranquillity in the Mind; this Wearinesse then which springeth from the Vnstaydnesse and Impotency of our af­fections, is not that which I make the Effect of a proper Hope (as being an opposite rather to true contentment of Mind, a vertue established, and not overthrowne by Hope) the Wearinesse then, which is wrought by the forecast and providence of a Minde possessed with Hope, is that which is grounded upon the knowledge and feeling of our emptinesse and wants, which therefore we long toPsal. 120. 5. have removed: like that of David, W [...] is me that I am constrained to dwell in Mese [...]h; wherupon followeth, [...] [...] [...]. Max. Tyr. disser [...]. 33.

The third Effect of Hope, which is an earnest contention of the Minde, in the pursuit of that Good, which should perfect our Natures, and supply our Wants. And this desire Saint Paul calleth Gemitus Creatura, the Groaning of the Creature: which is set downe as a Conse­quence of the Earnest Expectation of the Creature: and indeed there is not any Passion, which doth so much imploy, and so little violate Reason, as this of Hope doth, it being an exciting Passion, which moveth every Principle to its pro­per and speedy operation for gaining that perfe­ction which the Mind so earnestly breathes after; & the want wherof doth work such weaknes in it.

[Page 257]The last Effect of Hope, is a Contented Repose and Patience of the Mind, resting it selfe in a quiet Expectation of the things hoped for, and yet not exhibited. And this Patience is threefold; a Pati­ence under the Want; a Patience under the Di­stance; and a Patience under the difficulties of our desired Good; which holds especially in these Hopes (and those are almost all) which de­pend upon the will and disposition of another, whose pleasure it behooveth us in matters which are not of debt and necessity, rather to attend, than by murmuring and discontent to provoke him, and disappoint our selves. Hasty there­fore and running Hopes are as improper in their Nature, as they are commonly vaine and empty in their successe. Hee that Beleeves, and must by Faith depend upon Externall help, must not make haste, but be content to have his Expectations regulated, not by his owne greedi­nesse, but by anothers will.

CHAP. XXVI. Of the Affection of Boldnesse. What it is. The Causes of it, strong Desires, strong Hopes, Aydes, Supplyes, Reall, or in Opi­nion. Despaire and Extremities, Experi­ence, Ignorance, Religion, Innocency, Im­pudenc [...], Shame, Immunity from danger, Dexterity of Wit, strength of Love, Pride or greatnesse of Mind and Abilities. The Effects of it, Execution of things advised, Temerity, &c.

SO little in love hav [...] I e [...]er bin with this affection of [...] (as I find it mannaged by many, who make no other use of it, then children do of straw, with which they stuffe empty clothes, that they may looke like men) as that when first I writ this Tractate, I passed it over rather as a Vice, than an Affection of the Soule, and said nothing of it. And being no more friends with it now then I was then, I should be contented to have left it out still. But that I would not have the Treatise defective in such a member, whereofPlut. in Ni [...]ia. [...] Homer. there may be so good and so ill use made, as expe­rience sheweth us there is of this. For as *Plutarch [Page 259] notes of Aegypt, that it bringeth forth multa ve­ne [...]a, & multa salubria, many Good things, and many Bad: like those Creatures, some parts wher­of are poyson, and others restorative: so may wee say of the Men in whom this Affection is predo­minant, that they are usually Instruments either of much Good, or of much Evill to the placesPlut. in Themistoc. In Honnibale plurimum au­ [...] ad ca­pess [...]da peri­cula plurim [...] Consi [...] inter ipsa pericula erat. Liv. l. 21. that nourish them: as once Thomistocles his Tutor said of him. The best mixture that I can call to mind of this Passion, was in Hannibal, of whom the Historian tels us, That he was marvellous [...] to put upon Dangers; and yet marvellous Wise in managing of them: His courage not working Temerity, nor precipitating his resolutions: And his counsell not working slownesse, nor retarding his courage.

Boldnesse then or Confidence, is (as the Philoso­pher describes it) a Hope joyned with fancy and [...]. l. 2. c. 5. opinion, that those things which are safe for us, are neer at hand; and those which are hurtfull, ei­ther are not at all, or are a farre off, and cannot sud­denly reach us: Or it is an Affection whereby we neglect Danger for the procuring of some diffi­cult and Good thing, which wee earnestly desire and hope for, in Confidence to overcome and breake through that danger: For Confidence of Victory is that which maketh a man boldy to prosecute the Danger which opposeth him in his Hopes of Good. So that two things belong untoVid. Aque. 12 [...] quast, 45. art. 3 the formality of this Passion. 1. Vehemency of Hope, whatsoever strengthneth that, causeth this, as Power, Experience, Friends, neerenes of Ayds, [Page 260] and the like. 2. Exclusion of Feare, whatsoever removeth that, increaseth this: As Distance from Danger, Freenesse from Enemies, Cleernes from Injuries, &c.

The Object of this Passion is twofold. The Pri­mary and Principall Object is some difficult worke under the Relation of a needfull Medium, to the obtaining of a Good vehemently Desired and hoped for. The secondary Object, is some Evill and Danger, which standing between our Hope, and the Good for which we Hope, is by the v [...]he­mency of our Hope, as it were removed and de­spised in our Eyes, Good earnestly desired, and Evill confidently despised, are the things about which this Affection is conversant.

The Causes of this Affection are so many the more, because it is apt to be excited by clean con­trary Reasons.

The fundamentall and principall Cause of it, is strength of Desire, working vehemency of Hope, and impatiency of Resistance, or Restraint fromI [...]. 1. 14, 15. the thing desired: For Lust when it hath once conceived, will at last bring forth and finish, and rush forward to that after which it longeth,Arist. Eib. l. 7. c. [...]. 1. Pet. 4. 4. See my treatise on the Sin [...]ulnesse of Sin. p. 167. Hos. 4 2. Ier. 6. 7. 8. 6. Eth. l. 3. c. 11. which the Philosopher calleth [...], and Saint Peter [...], a pouring out of Passion, and the Pro­phet a Breaking forth and violent Eruption, a rash and Head. strong praecipitancy, which like a Tor­rent venters upon any thing that withstands it. The Philosopher instanceth for this particular in adulterers, [...]. Who adven­ture on many bold Attempts for the satisfaction of their Lust.

[Page 261]But because where there are strong Desires, there may be weake Hopes, and great Feares, The one Discouraging, the other Deterring from the Prosecution of them, therefore to the embolde­ning of those Desires, other particular Causes doe usually concurre. Some whereof I shall en­quire after.

1 Then strong Hopes, and Ready, Present Aydes and supplies proper to the End, which we would advance are Excellent meanes to gene­rateAux [...] mag [...]a. [...].vi [...]ina. Boldnesse. Great Aydes as the Catts Vnum magnum, or many Aydes, that if one faile another may Hold. As greatnesse of wealth, friends, power, strength. And these in a Readinesse and [...]re at hand. ▪ [...] ▪ as the Philosoper ex­presseth [...]. l. [...]. [...]. 5. it, as the Trojans being besieged when [...] with his Armie drew neare, gathered cou­ [...]ge above their feares.

—Clam [...]rēm ad sydera tollunt,
A [...]cid. 10.
Darda [...]idae muris; spes addita suscitat Iras
Tela ma [...] Iaciunt.
They all climb'd up the wals, thence fill'd with▪ joyes,
Shouted as loud, as if they meant the noyse
Should wake the Stars, hopes added stir'd up Ire
And their Dar [...]s flew as swift as any fire.

And in Scriptures we are often quickened un­to1 Io [...]. 4. 4. [...]. 10, 36, 37. [...]am. 5. 8. [...]ve. 22. 12. courage against the Difficulties of our Chri­stian Warfare by the Greatnesse and the nearenesse of the Aydes, and the Reward which we Hope [Page 262] for. Yea, so strong a power hath Hope over the [...] [...]. l. 3. c. 11. [...] r [...]v. 23. 34. Resolutions of men that even the froth, and dreame, and fancy of it in drunken men, maketh them as the Philosopher noteth marvellous ven­trous upon dangers, which Reason and sobriety would have taught them to feare. Solomon tels us of a Drunkard lying on the Top of a Mast, and I have my selfe seene a Drunken man climbe to the Top of a Steeple. Which boldnesse proceedeth in such men from weaknesse and wil­fulnesse of selfe-conceit, and Opinion, for com monly [...]. [...]. l. 7. [...]. 10. that strength, which a Drunken man loo­seth in his Reason, he gathers in his fancy, and as his judgement weakens, his Opinion encrea­seth. And we shall never finde men more confi­dent in their affirming, then when they know not what they affirme.

Now upon this Ground, that Hope is the great Quickner unto Courage, It was, that Alexander used it as an Argument to his Souldiers against the Persian, when he saw them come into the field cloathed so richly, that their Armes werePrad [...] [...] quam [...] [...] [...]. Liv. lib. 9. Iliad. [...] 873. Plutarch lib. de Homero. Quàm mini­mum [...] incor­pore [...] spoli­orum [...] [...] quàm operunt. [...]. Epist. 14. much rather a Prey to the Greekes, then a De­fence unto themselves, in which respect Homer thus derides Amphimachus.

[...]
In glitering Gold, like a faire Damsell, clad
He came to fight: Vaine man why art so mad
[Page 263]To thinke that Iron is kept backe by gold?
Thou bring'st the price, for which thy selfe art sold.
Sue [...]on. in Iu­li [...] 67.

And yet upon a contrary Reason, I finde one of the greatest and wisest Commanders of the world Iulius Casar, requiring of his Souldiers to carry Gold about them that the feare of loosing that, might make them the more constant to their Resolutions.

Contrary unto this we shall often observe, that Despaire and Extramities doe put men upon bold adventures. As no men fight more despe­rately then Cowards when they cannot flie, as the Historian noteth Summ [...] Au­daci [...] [...], factlosus que [...] adperturban­d [...]m remp. In opia, a [...] mali [...] [...]. [...]. of Cu. Pis [...] a Confederate of [...] that by poverty he became desperate, and thereby emboldened unto that attempt, wherein he might either rise by the ruine of others (ha­ving neither merit nor Hope to rise by their fa­vours) or at least not be ruined without compa­ny. [...]. i [...] Num [...]. As that which shakes a Tree, doth often serve to settle and fasten it: So many times dan­gers and Saepè [...] h [...]st is [...] [...]. [...]didit. Liv. lib. 21. Spe [...] desperati▪ one quaesita [...]. lib. 1. Ig [...]aviam ne­cessi [...]as acuit, & spei saepè desp [...]ratio cau­sa est Q. [...]. l. 5. D [...]nt animun [...] ad loque [...]dum liberè ul [...]imae miseriae Liv. lib. [...]9. extremities doe excite strength, as in the height of a Fever or Frenzie, men shew more strength and agility of body, then in their per [...]e­ctest Health. And as they say of Maximè [...] esse solent [...] [...] Animalium. Flor [...] Iul [...] Ca­pitol. in Max imino. Beasts, they bite with more venome and indignation when they are wounded, and ready to die. And therefore Homer expresseth the Dying of woun­ded Enemies by biting of the Ground; so ut­most extremities of miseries make men put out the more boldnesse in either Revenge o [...] new Attempts, because they may be better, but they [Page 264] cannot be worse. Impunit [...] ge [...] est non [...]bere p [...] locu [...] St [...]. And it is a kinde of Impuni­ty to be so low as that a man hath not a conditi­on to fall from.

[...].
M [...]riensque recepit. Quas n [...]llet victur [...]s aqu [...]s.

In a famine a man will eat and drinke that which in plenty he could not have the courage to looke on. And this cause of boldnesse is thus expressed by the Poet when he sheweth how the Youth of Troy, seeing their Citie burnt and sac­ked, grow unto a Desperate Resolution.

Si [...] Animi [...] Iuvenum fur [...]r addit [...] [...]de [...]
R [...]ptores atra in Nebula qu [...]s impr [...]ba ventris
Exeg [...] [...] rabies, cat [...] (que) [...]
Faucib [...] e [...]pectant siccis, per Telaper hostes
Vad [...]mus hand dubi [...] in [...]
Thus youth did rage despairing of their lives,
Like Wolves of Prey whom extreame hunger drives
From their yong thirsty whelps, through darkest sterms;
[...]ide v [...]grt de [...] mili [...]ar. l. 3. c. 21.
Through darts and foes we rush an our owne harmes
And being sure to die dare that, which feare
With Hope of Life would force us to forbe [...]e.

Another cause of Boldnesse is Experience, when [...] E. [...]s. t. 3. [...]. 11. [...]. Eur [...]p. R [...]s▪ a man hath often done a thing with successe, of­ten seen Dangers and escaped them. As Marri­ners at sea, found other men, upon as small hopes as he himselfe hath▪ to goe through the like mat­ters without doubt or hesitation. For examples [Page 265] doe put Life, Hope, and Emulation into men, as we noted before, and we are encouraged some­times rather to Vel err [...]r ho­nestus est magnos duces sequen­tibus Qui [...]t. lib 1. cap. 6. erre in good company, then to goe right alone, and this Argument Aentas used in the Poet.

V [...]s & scylla [...]m rabie [...], penitus (que) sonantes
accestis sc [...]pulos, V [...]s & Cyclopea saxa,
Exper [...]: revocate A [...]mos, mastum (que) tim [...]rem
M [...]tite—
You by Charibdis, and by S [...]ylla say [...]'d,
Where waves through r [...]ks did sound, nor hath pre­vail'd.
'Gatust you, that w [...]rser Rocke the Cyclops denne,
Then cast off feares, and shew your selves brave men.

And a [...] Experience, so on the contrary side Ig­norance [...]. L [...] [...]t i [...] [...]. Ethic. l. 3. 6. 8▪ & 10. P [...]. l. 4. Ep. 7. Q [...] m [...]sture [...], [...]ajora (que) v [...]ribus a [...]? [...] [...] inca [...] ­tum [...] [...]a [...]. 10. [...]e [...] [...] vi [...]. Va [...]. M [...]. l. 3. c 1. is as usuall [...] cause of Confidence, as we see Children will put their finger in the fire, and play with Serpents, as not acquainted with any hurt they can doe for them. We may too often meet with men like waters or vessels, which the shallower and emptier they be, doe make the lowder noyse, and make use of other mens Igno­rance to gaine Boldnesse and Credit to their owne. To which purpose it is a grave expression of the Poet.

[...].
E [...]rip. My [...]pol.
Th [...]se whom wise men know for D [...]ll
With vulgar [...]ares are wondrous Musicall.

[Page 266]And as Flies are esteemed very Bold Crea­tures, [...] 638. because they often returne to the same place: so the boldnesse of these kinde of Spea­kers is usually discovered in vaine and emptie Tautologies, which is the reason why (as the O­rator noteth) they are usually more copious then far Learnedner men, Quia doct is est Electi [...] & mo­dus, Qui [...]til. because able Speakers use choice and Iudge­ment in what they produce.

Another Cause of Boldnesse in attempts mayR [...]et. l. [...]. c. 5. be Religion, and a Confidence of Divine Directi­on unto what we doe. Ithu his pretence unto zeale, was that which caused him to walke furi­ously. And in this case as the Historian speakes,Q. curt. lib. 4. De I [...]tu A­nimorum di­vin [...]us exci­tat [...] vid Plu­tare [...]. in Co [...]. I [...]dg. 6. 36. Isai. 7. 11. 12▪ 2 Reg. 19. 29. [...] Sam. 5. 24. Psal. 74. 9. Exod. 17. 11. 1 Sam. 4. 7, 8. Melius vatibus quam Ducibus parent. Men are ap [...]er to be led by their Prophets then by their Captaines. And we finde when God would encou­rage his People in their warres, he gave them signes and assurances for their faith to relie upon above their feares that where Reason saw cause of Doubting, Faith might see all Defects suppli­ed in God, so to Gideon▪ to Ahaz, to Hezekiah, and others, and the Church complaines of the want of them in their times of Calamity. We see not our signes, neither is there amongst us any Prophet, or any one that knoweth how long. When I [...]suah did fight, Moses did pray, and Israel was more encou­raged by the intercession of the one, then by the valour of the other. And the Philistines were never more affrighted, then when Israel brought forth the Arke of God against them, for as Ajax said in the Poet,

[Page 267] [...].
Sopho [...]l. Aj [...]x vid. Ez [...]k. 21. 21. 21.
—If God will fight, He can make weak men put the strong to flight.

And therefore Tolumnius the Soothsayer ha­ving received happy Auguria, doth thereupon grow to Resolutions of courage.

Hoc erat, Hoc votis, inquit, quod saepè petivi,
Aencid. 1 [...].—Priscum de more Lati­ [...]is Auspi [...]um; [...] bell [...] parant mentesqu [...] deo­rum Explorant super Eventu, &c. Sil▪ Ital. lib. 5.
Accipio, agnocos (que) Deos; me, me duce, ferrum
Corripite ò Rutili.
This, This is that which in my chiefest thought
I still desir'd, and now finde what I sought;
The Divine Tokens [...]embrace and see▪
Come Souldiers, Take your swords and follow me.
Prov. [...]1. 1. Isai. 31 4. Vid. Iliad. [...] 23. Rhet. l. 2. c. 5.

Unto this Head of Religion belongeth Inno­cency, as a most excellent cause of Boldnesse; for the Righteous is bold as a Lyon, which careth not though a multitude of Shepheards come out against him. And the Philosopher tels us that they who have done no wrong unto others, are confident of successe in their Attempts, be­leeving that they shall finde no Enemies, be­cause they have provok'd none. A notable Ex­ample,Val. Max. l. 3. c. 7. vid. haud dissimile Exem­plum [...]. Plutarch. de [...]il. ex Hosti [...]. capi [...]nd. whereof wee have in M. Publius Furius the Roman Consul, who was so confident of his owne Integrity in publike Administration, that being deputed by lot to governe the Province of Spaine, hee chose the two bitterest Enemies [Page 268] that he had in the City to be Coadjutors with him in that Dispensation. Whereunto may be added the Answer which Drusus gave to him who would have contrived his house for secre­cie, when hee told him that hee could wish his house were pervious and transparent that his pri­vatest Actions might be seene in publick.

And as Religion and Innocencie, so on the [...] apud H [...]merum sapè. Ier. 3. 3. Isai. [...]. 4. Ezek. 16. 30. O [...] ferreum. Cic. in [...]. Iul. [...]. l. 3. c. 28. [...]. [...] Alcib. vid. [...]. [...] Arist. Ethic. l. 3. cap. 9. other side Deboishnesse and Desperatenesse of living doth implant a marvellous Boldnesse in the Mindes and faces of men, when they have no Modesty or shame to restraine them. As we see in Gypsies, Parasites, Jugglers, [...], neuros­pastae, and such like. And therefore such kinde of men both in Scripture and in other writings, are said to have faces of brasse and necks of Iron, whorish and impudent foreheads that cannot blush or be ashamed; and these words, [...], we shall finde for synonymies and of equall signification, whereof the former signifie Despaire, Impudence, and the other Boldnesse.

Againe, as Impudence, so Shame and feare of [...]. Silentium illud obstinatum, [...]ixi in terram oculi— & pudor [...] i [...]dicia [...] ingentem [...] [...] ex al [...]o [...] [...] [...] [...] [...]iv. lib. 9. Disgrace is a great Cause of Boldnesse, in vertu­ous and honourable Attempts; for there is no Man of generous principles, but will much ra­ther chuse an honourable danger than a sordid safety, and adventure his Person before hee will shipwrack his honesty or good name, choosing ever to regulate his Behaviour rather by a morall than a naturall feare, to give an account of him­selfe rather to those that love his vertues, than to those who love his fortunes. In one word stan­ding [Page 269] more in awe of mens Hearts than of their Hands, and shunning more a Iust Reprehension than an Vnjust Injury. And to this purpose it is gravely observed by the Historian, that the dishonour which the Romans suffered, ad furcas Ca [...]dinas, was that which procured their adversaries a bloudy overthrow afterwards, quia Ignominia nec Amicos parat, nec Inimicos t [...]llit. Their saving of the lives of the Romans to bring Ignominy upon them, being esteemed not a benefit, but a scorne: a very like ex­ample2. Sam. 10. Mixtus dolor & pudor ar­mat in Hostes. Aenead. 10. Tunc [...]ide ma­l [...], sed contra [...] it [...]. Aenead. l. 5. Arist. [...]ib. l. 3. c▪ [...] 1. we have hereunto in the servants of David, abused and put to shame by Ha [...]un the sonne of Ammon. And thus the Poet expresseth the cou­rage of Dares revived by the fall which hee had from Entellus:

At non tardatus casu, nec territus heros,
Acrior ad pugnam redit, & vim suscitat ira,
Tum pudor incendit vires & Conscia Virtus.
Dares no whit dismay'd, renewe [...] the fight
With a more eager force, wrath doth excite
The stouter courage, Shame with Valour met,
Inflam'd his minde, and did his weapon whet.

Another cause of Boldnesse, is Immunity fromQui ad [...] callidi sunt, [...] tantum audent quantum ex­cogitant. Cic. pro [...]. Danger, or at least a Versatilousnesse and Dexterity of wit to evade it, or shift through it. And there­fore though cunning men dare not alwaies second their contrivances with Execution, nor let their hand goe in Equipage with their wit; yet com­monly men of vigorous fancies are so far in love [Page 270] with their owne conceptions, that they will many times venture upon some hazards, to bring them into act, trusting the same [...] to bring themPlut. Apopb. out of Danger, which hath at first made them to adventure on it: as Dariu [...] was wont to say of him­selfe, that in a pinch and extremity of perill, hee [...] ever wisest: and Sylla gave the same judgmentPl [...]t in Sylla. [...]nsilium in [...] S [...]n ca. [...]. Soph. Autig. of himselfe, that he came off best in those busi­nesses, which he was the most suddenly put upon, which also I finde observed in the Character of our Henry the seventh (who hath had the felicity above all his Praedecessor [...], to have his [...]ineamenti drawne by the ablest pen that hath êmployed it selfe in our Story) that his wit was ever sharpened by Danger, and that he had a greater Denterity to evade, than Providence to prevent them.

Another cause of Boldnesse (as I have formerly [...] faci­chat A [...]or. Ovid Met. 4. noted on that Passion) is strength of Love, as we see weake Creatures, indefence of their young ones, will set upon those that are strong, and the Tri­bune in A. Gellius, out of Love either of his Coun­trey,A. Gell. l 3. c. 7. or of Glory, did not only advice, but himselfe undertake the executing of a service, where in hee was before-hand certaine to perish. And the same Author telleth us of Euclide, a Desciple of Socra­tes, A. Gell. 6. c. [...]. Vile est corpus [...] qui [...] gloriam qua­ [...]. [...]iv. l. 2. who ventured in a disguise upon the evident danger of his Life to enjoy the Discourses and Counsels of his Master.

Lastly Pride, greatnesse of Minde or Parts, and opinion of Merit; especially if it meet with dis­contentednesse and conceits of being neglected, doth very often embolden men to great and now [Page 271] Attempts: For it is a very hard thing when great Abilities and vast Hopes meet together, to governe them with moderation. Private Ends being in that case very apt to engage a mans parts, and to take them off from publicke service unto parti­cular advantage. And therefore I take it, there is no temper of Minde that will with that evennesse and uniformity of proceeding, or felicity of suc­cesse, promote publicke and honourable Ends, as Height of Abilities, with moderation of Desires; be­cause in that case a man can never stand in his own light, no [...] have any mist or obstacle between his Eye and his End.

Now from this ground I beleeve did arise thatCic. Tusc. q. l. 5. Arist. Polit. l. 3. c. 13. Plut. in Alcib. & Arist id. ex Nicia. Eande virtutē & oderant & mirabantur. Liv. l. 5. Maxime of some of the States of Greece noted by Tully, and at large debated by the Philosopher, Nem [...] de nobis unui excellat, that they would not have any one man to be notoriously eminent in abilities above the rest, and thereupon instituted Ostracisme, or an honourable Bannishment, as a re­straint either to abate the excessive worth of emi­nent men: or to satisfie and asswage the Envy which others might conceive against them, who are apt to hate the vertues which they can onely admire: or lastly, to prevent the dangers which greatnesse of parts taking advantage of popula­rity and vulgar applause, might haply venture to bring upon things. Vpon this ground the Ephe sians expelled Hermodorus; and the Athenians, Aristides, because he was too just for the rest of the people. As one Voice in a Consort, which is loud above the proportion of the rest, doth not adorne, [Page 272] but disturbe the Harmony; and therefore usually m [...]n of great parts, have lien either under Envy or Iealousie. Mens minds out of I know not what ma­lignity, being apt to suspect that that will not be used unto Good, which might be abused unto Evill, which Tacitus noteth to have been the qua­lity [...]. of Domitian, and Ammianus Marcellinus of Con­stantius towards men of the greatest worth.

Now according to the difference of this Affe­ction in different men, so it worketh two diffe­rent [...] [...] [...]. 170. [...]. [...]. Effects.

1 There is a Happy and Discree [...] boldnesse, which doth not anticipate, but second and attend the mature counsels of the minde, and doth first call out and stirre up it selfe by wisedome, before it proceed unto Action▪ or Execution▪ like the Boldnesse of the Lyon, which is Slow, but at last prospers in what it undertakes. For after Counsell hath ripened Resolutions, Boldnesse is then the best Instrument to accomplish them, and in that case, quo minus timoris, minus fermè perituli, as the Historian speaks. The lesse feares are, the lesse also are their dangers, and the greater their Confi­dence, the surer their successe:

[...].
The Greeks by venturing did enjoy
Their ten yeares wish, and gained Troy,

2 There is a [...]. hasty and rash Boldnesse, which beginning too speedily without Counsell doth usu­ally end too Cowardly, without Courage; for rash [Page 273] men whom the Philosopher cals [...] men made up of confidence and feare, are bold and boasting before a Danger; but in it very timorous▪ or at least inconstant. Lyons in peace, but Harts in warre, as Tertullians Proverb hath it. [...]. Like those of whom Livy and Florus tell us, That they were more than men in the onset, and lesse than women in the issue, melting away from their Resolutions like Snow.

And another ill property of the Rashnesse of this Passion is, That it will expose a man to more danger than the successe which it aimes at can compensate [...]as he that fishes for a Gudgeon with a golden hooke: or as Vlysses who went backe to the Cyclop [...] his denne to fetch his cap and girdle which he had left behind him.

Another is, that it makes men Overvalue them­selves, and so undertake things too hard for them to endure or hold out in. Like [...]. Menelaus in the Poet, who would venture to fight with Hector or Ari [...]ioxenus in Tully, who being a Musitian, would needs determine in questions of Philosophy.

Lastly it hath a property as we say, to breake the Ice, and to give the first onset upon dangerous Attempts, which is a thing of very perillous con­sequence, not only to the Author, but many times [...]. to the publick Peace too, c forward, exulcerated, and seditious spirits, being too ready to follow what they dare not begin.

CHAP. XXI. Of the Passion of Feare: the Causes of it; Impotency, Obnoxiousnesse, Suddennesse, Neerenesse, Newnesse, Conscience, Igno­rance of an Evill.

THe opposite Passion to this ofVide Laert. in [...]. l. 7. of Hope is Feare: which be­ing an Equivocall Passion, and admitting of many different kinds, can sca [...]se have any whole and simple definition to explaine it. There is a Ver­tuous Feare; a Feare of Sinne and Shame; an Intellectuall Feare of Admiration, when the excel­lency of the Object dazleth our Eye; a Feare of Reverence; an Astonishing Feare, by reason of the Newnesse; and an Oppressing Feare, by reason of the Neerenesse and Inavoydablenesse of the Evill sea red. It is a Griefe, Trouble, Flight, Aversation of some approaching Evill apprehended, either as destructive, or as burthensome to our nature, and not easily resistable by our strength: For the qualification of the Object thereof, because it is in all circumstances like that of Hope (save in the Evill of it) I shall therefore forbeare to touch it, and shall onely in briefe consider the Dignities and Defects thereof in its Causes and Effects.

Fear is an humbling & debasing Passion, which [Page 275] alwaies importeth some manner of servitude and subjection in whom it resideth; So then as in the former Passion of Hope I noted the fundamentall cause thereof to be Weaknesse and W [...]nt: so like­wise in this of Feare, the Root and first Principle is Weakness [...] and Subjection; whereof the one im­plyes a disability in us to resist, the other a neces­sity to undergoe an evill.

Hence it is that wee feare the displeasure of Great men; or the Power of Vnjust men; or the Competition of Popular and Plausible men; or [...]bet. l. 2. 6. 5. the Cunning of Close and Malitious men; or the Revenge of Provoked men; or the Guilt of Inju­rious men that have wronged us already: because in all these cases there is some notice of Weake­nesse and Subjection in us: so that Feare is of all other a naked Passion: For as Nakednesse hath three evill properties; to disable for Defence; to expose to Injury; and from both to work shame in the consciousnesse of our dejected condition: So likewise Feare hath three properties; to make us Impotent and Obnoxious; and from both these to beget Shame. For though his speech was true,Diogenes apud l. a [...]rt. l. 6. [...]. Menander. Rubor est virtutis color, that Shame and Vertue have the same colour (which makes it seeme a companion rather of Perfection than of Weak­nesse; yet indeed it is rather a signe of a mind ver­tuously disposed in restifying the quicke appre­hensivenesse of its own defects, than any Adjunct of Vertue it selfe.

So then the Roots of this Passion are Weaknesse and Subjection both together; so that where either [Page 276] condition is wanting, there is not any proper ground of Feare, and therefore wee see sundry times strength takes off the yoake of Obedience, not only in the civill government of men, but in the naturall government of creatures by men, to whom by the law of Creation they were all made subject; yet the strength of many of them hath taught them to ferget their originall Subjection, and in stead of Fearing, to terrifie man their lord; and when ever we tame any of them, and reduce them to their first condition: this is not so much an act of our Dominion, wherby we awe them, as of our Reason, whereby we deceive them; and we are beholding more therein to the working of our Wit, than to the prerogative of our Nature; and usually every thing which hath knowledg enough to measure its owne abilities; the more it hath of Strength, the lesse it hath of Feare; that which Solomon makes the strongest, the Apostle makes the fittest to expell Peare, to wit, Love.

So likewise on the other side, Immunity from Sub­jection in the midst of Weaknesse removes Feare. Of this we may give an instance in guilty persons, who notwithstanding their Weaknesse; yet when once by the priviledge of their Sanctuary or mer­cy of their Iudge they are freed from the obliga­tion of the Law, though not from the Offence; their former Feares doe presently turne into Ioy and Gratulations: and that is the reason why Good men have such Boldnesse, Confidence, and Courage, that they can bid defiance unto Death; because though they be not quite delivered from [Page 277] the Corruption; yet they are from the Curse and Condemnation of Sinne, though by reason of their Weaknesse they are not delivered from the mouth; yet they are from the teeth and stings of Death; though not from the Earth of the Grave; yet from the Hell of the Grave; though not from Sinne; ye [...] from the Strength and Malediction of Sinne▪ the Law ou [...] Adversary must be strong, as well as our selves weake, if he looke for Feare.

The Corruption then of this Passion, as it depen­ [...]eth upon these Causes is, when it ariseth out of too base a conceit of our owne, or too high of ano­thers strength; the one proceeding from an errour of Humility, in undervaluing our selves; the other from an errour of Iudgement or Suspition in mi­staking of others. There are some men who as the Or [...]our speaks of despairing Wits, De [...] [...] [...]rentur, who are too unthankfull unto Nature in a sl [...]ight esteeme of the abilities shee [...]ath given them, and deserve that Weakenesse which they unjustly complaine of: The sight of whose Iudgment is not unlike that of Perspective Glasses▪ the two ends whereof have a double re­presentation; the one fuller and neerer the truth; the other smaller and at a farre greater distance: So it is with men of this temper, they looke on themselves and others with a double prejudice; on themselves with a Distrusting and Despairing Iudgement, which presents every thing remote and small; on Others with on Overvaluing and Admiring Iudgement, which contrariwise pre­sents all perfections too perfect. And by this [Page 278] means between a selfe-dislike, and a too high estimation of others, truth ever fals to the ground, and for revenge of her selfe, leaves the party thus [...] [...] Timorous. For as Er­rour hath a property to produce and nourish any Passion, according to the nature of the subject matter which it is conversant about: so princi­pally this present Passion; because Errour it selfe is a kinde of Formido Intellectus, a Feare of the Vn­derstanding: and it is no great wonder for one Feare to beget another. And▪ therefore when Christ would take away the Feare of his Disci­ples, he first removes their prejudice: Feare not those that can kill the Body onely, and can doe no more. Where the overflowing of their Feares seemes to have been grounded on the overiudging of an adverse power. Thus much for the Root and Essentiall cause of Feare: these which follow, are more casuall and upon occasion.

Whereof the first may be the Suddennesse of a [...] Evill, when it ceiseth upon (as it were) in the Dark:Prae c [...]ris Hostibu [...] [...]i­mentur R [...] [...]iui. Ammian. Ma [...]c. l. 28. for all Darknesse is comfortlesse; and therefore the last terrible Iudgement is described unto us by the Blacknesse and Vnexpectednesse of it, by the Darknesse of Night, and the Suddennesse of Lightning. All Vnacquaintaince then and Igno▪ rance of an approaching Evill, must needs workeMala praeviso siunt [...]. Ci [...] Tusc. q. l. 3. Annal. l▪ 1. Amazement and Terrour: as contrarily a foresight the [...] of worketh Patience to undergoe, and Bold­nesse to encounter it: as Tacitus speaks of Caecina, Ambiguarum rerum sciens eo (que) intrepidus, that hee was acquainted with difficulties, and therefore [Page 279] not fearfull of them. And there is good reason for this, because in a sudden daunt and onset of an unexpected evill, the spirits which were before orderly carried by their severall due motions un­to their naturall works, are upon this strange ap­pearance and instant Oppression of danger so dis­ordered, mixed, and sti [...]lled, that there is no power left either in the Soule for Counsell, or in the Body for Execution: For as it is in the warres of men, so of Passions, those are more terrible, which are by way of Invasion, then of Battell, which set upon men unarmed and uncomposed; then those which find them prepared for resistance: and so the Poet describes a lamentable overthrow by the Suddennes of the one side, and the Ignorance of the other:

Invadunt urbe [...] somno vin [...] (que) sepultam.
Dum ed parte qua mu [...]us di­r [...]tus [...] sta­tiones arma [...]as opponunt: Quintiu [...] [...] ab edpar [...]e, quae minimè [...]uspecta er [...] [...]mpetu [...]cto scal [...] cepi [...] [...] L [...]v. l. 32.
They do invade a City all at rest,
Which ryot had with sleep and Wine opprest.

And this is one reason why men inclinable to this Passion, are commonly more fearfull in the Night than at other times; because then the Ima­gination is presenting of Objects not formerly thought on, when the spirits which should streng­then, are more retyred, and Reason lesse guar­ded.

And yet there are Evils too, which on the other side more affright with their long expecta­tion and traine, than if they were more contracted [Page 280] and speedy. Som [...] set upon us by sleath, affrigh­ting us like lightning with a sudden blaze othersS [...]n. Ep. 14. with a train and pomp like a Comet, which is ushe­red in with a streame of fire, and like Thunder, which hurts not only with its danger, but with its noise: and therefore Aristotle reckoneth [...]. the signes of an approaching evill amongst the Objects of Feare.

Another cause of Feare may be the Neernesse of an Evill, when we perceive it to be within the reach of us, and now ready to set upon us: For a [...] it is with Objects of Sence in a distance of place▪ so it is with the Objects of Passion, in a Distance of Time; Remotion in either, the greater it is, the lesse present it makes the Object; and by conse­quence, the weaker is the impression there-from upon the faculty: and this reason Aristotle gives why Death, which else where he makes the most terrible evill unto Nature, doth not yet with the conceit thereof, by reason that it is apprehended at an indefinite and remote distance, worke such terrour and amazement: nor so stiffe Reason and the Spirits, as Objects farre lesse in themselves injurious to Nature; but yet presented with a determined Neerenesse. And the reason is plaine, because no Evill h [...]ts us by a simple apprehen­sion of its Nature, but of its Vnion: and all Pro­pinquity is a degr [...]e of Vnion. For although Futu­rition be a necessary condition required in the Ob­ject, which must inferre Feare; yet all Evill, the lesse it hath d [...] Future, the more it hath de Terri­bili: which is the reason, why that Carnall Secu­rity, [Page 281] which is opposed to the Feare of God, is described in the Scripture, by putting the Evill Day farre from us, viewing as in a Landskip and at a great distance the terrour of that Day. And if here the Atheists Argument be objected, Let us eat and drinke, for to-morrow wee shall die: Where the propinquity of Ruine is made an In­ducement unto Ryot. Wee must answer, that an Atheist is here in both right and vaine, in that he conceiveth Annihilation, or never more to be the best close of a wicked life; and therefore most ear­nestly (though most vainly) desireth that it may be the issue of his Epicur [...]sme and Sensuality. And here briefly the Corruption of Feare in this particular is, when it takes advantage by the ap­proach of Evill, to swell so high as to sinke Rea­son, and to grow bigger than the Evill which it is afraid of.

——propius (que) pericl [...]
Aenead. 8. I [...] [...] & pe­ [...]iculo plura & ma [...] viden­ [...] me [...] [...]s cum [...] [...], [...]um sin [...]r [...] C [...]c. d [...] Divi [...]. 1. 2
It Timor, & major Martis jam apparet imago▪
Their Feare gets closer than the thing it feares,
Warres Image bigger than it selfe appeares.

For as it is a signe of distemper in the Body, when the unequall distribution of nourishment and humours causeth some parts to exceed their due proportion of greatnesse: so is it likewise in the saculties of the Minde, when the Inferiour grow high and strong; if Reason raise not it selfe to such a proportion, as still to maintaine and [Page 282] manage its authority and government over them. But this is to be observed only of the Rising and Strength, not of the Humility and Descent of Reason: For though it be fit for the power of Reason to keep it selfe up above rebellion; yet is it not necessary that it should stoup and sinke ac­cording to the lownesse or sordidnesse of any Passion. As in the Body, though we would have all parts increase alike; yet if one part by distemper grow weake, wee require in the rest a fellow-fee­ling, not a fellow-languishing▪ yea indeed in both cases, where the inferiour part is weaker, it is the course of Nature and Art to fortifie the higher; because in a Superiour there is required as well a power to quicken and raise that which droo­peth, as to suppresse and keep under that which rebelleth.

Another cause of Feare may be Ne fam [...] aut rem in maju [...] [...] aut [...] animo [...] rer [...] novitate [...]. Iustin. l. 14. [...]. Clem. Alex. Cl [...]m. l. 2. [...]. l. 3. c. 7. Arrian Epict. l. 2. c. 1. N [...]m velu [...] [...], at (que) omnia Caecu in tene­br [...] [...]: ita n [...]s i [...] luce time [...]us. L [...]r. Newnesse of Evill: When it is such, wherewith neither the Minde it selfe hath had any preceeding encoun­ter, whereby to judge of its owne Strength; nor any example of some other mans prosperous issue to confirme its hopes in the like successe: For as before I noted out of the Philosopher, Experi­ence is in stead of Armour, and is a kind of For­titude, enabling both to judge and to beare trou­bles: for there are some things which he elegant­ly calleth them, [...]. Empty Dangers: Epi­ctetus calleth them, [...]. Scar-crowes, and Vizors, which children feare only out of Ig­norance: as soone as they are knowne, they cease to be terrible. As the log of timber which was [Page 283] cast into the pond, did with the first noise excee­dingly affright the Frogges, which afterwards when it lay quietly, they securely swam about. And this Ignorance and Inexperience is the cause that a man can set no bounds to his Feare. I grieve for so much Evill as hath befallen me; but I feare so much as may befall me; and thePli [...]. l. 8 ep. 18. Ver [...]or omnia, imagin [...] om­nia quae (que) na­tura [...] est, [...]a max­imè mitui quae maximè abo­mi [...]or, fingo,. Plin l. 6. ep 4. Vid. Sen. ep. 13. Prob. § 14. [...]. 15. more strong and working my Fancy, the greater my Feare; because what I cannot measure by Knowledge, I measure by Imagination▪ the figments of Fancy do usually exceed Truth.

And from this Ignorance likewise it is, that Timorous men are usually Inquisitive, as the Phi­losopher notes; and so the Prophet expresseth the Feare of the Idumeans in the Warre, Watch­man! What of the Night? Watchman! What of the Night? Feare usually doubleth the same questi­ons, as Griefe doth the same Complaints. There­fore men in a fright and amazement, looke one another in the face; one mans countenance, as it were asking counsell of another▪ and once moreIs [...]. 13. 8. 21. 11. [...]. 51 31. Gen. 42. 1. [...]Schol▪ [...]n S [...]. Deut. 28. 25. In mag [...] [...] s [...] per [...] [...] tan­quam maximè [...]. Pl [...]. [...] Mario▪ Deut. 28. 28. 95. from hence grow the Irresolutions of Timorous men, because they know not what to doe, no [...] which way to fly the things they feare: in which respect they are said to fly from an Enemy seven wayes, as ever suspecting they are in the worst. Pavidei semper Consilia in incer [...]o, they never can have fixed and composed Counsels: and it is the usuall voice of Men in their Feares, I know not what to do, I know not which way to turne my selfe; Trembling of Heart, and Fayling of Eyes, Blindnesse and Astonishment: Ignorance and [Page 284] Feare, doe thus usually accompany each other. And therefore the Stoicks make [...] and [...] aLaert. in Ze­ [...]. l. 7. sluggish Affection of Minde, whereby a man shrinketh backe, and declineth businesse, be­cause of difficulty of danger which hee obser­veth in it; and a Tumultuary and distracted frame of Mind, not knowing which way to take, to be amongst the kinds of this Passion of Feare. The Poet speaking of the Sabine Virgins, whom the Romane youth snatched away, and tooke to them for Wives, hath thus elegantly described this distraction of Feare.

Vt fugiunt aquilat timidissima turba Columbae,
Ovid. de Arte Amandi. l. 1.
Vt (que) fugit visos agna novella lupos:
Sic illa simuere viros sine lege mentes,
Constitit in nulla qui fuit ante Color.
Nam Timor unus erat, facies non una timoris
Pars laniat Crines, pars fine mente sedet.
Altera maesta filet, frustra vocat altera matrem,
Haec queritur, stupet hac, hac fugit, illa manet.
As weake and fearfull Doves the Eagle flie,
And tender Lambs when they the Woolfe espie:
So the affrighted Sabine Virgins runne
Pale and discolour'd, Romane youth to shunne.
Their Feare was One, but Feare had not One look,
Part here sit reav'd of sense, part there doth pluck,
And teare their haires, One silent mourns, another
With a successelesse Outcry cals her Mother.
One moanes, the fright another doth amaze:
One flies for Feare, for Feare another staies.

[Page 285]Now the reasons why newnesse of evill doth thus work fear, may be many. For first, all Admiration is [...] kind of feare: it being the property of man, not only to feare that which is Against, but that also which is above our Nature, either in regard of na­turall and civill dignity, which worketh a fear of Re­verence; as to parents, governours, masters; or in re­gard of Morall Excellency and Excesses above the strength of the faculty, which worketh a Feare of Advancement of Learning. Admiration. Now then it is the property of every thing, that brings novelty with it to worke more [...]. Laert. in Ze­non. l. 7. Pl [...]tarch. de A [...]d. [...]. [...]. ph. l. 1. [...]. 2 or lesse, some manner of admiration, which, (as the Honour of this ages learning cals it) is a broken knowledge, and commonly the first step, which we make in each particular Science: & therfore chil­dren are most given to wonder, because every thing appeareth New unto thē. Now then when any evill shall at onc [...] fright our nature, & pose our under­standing, the more our Ignorance doth weaken our Reason, the more doth it str [...]ngthen our Passion.

Againe, though such evils may happily be inNat. Qu [...]st. l. 7. c, 1. themselves but sleight, yet the very strangenesse of them will worke an opinion of their greatnesse: for as that of Seneca is true, Magnitudinem rerum [...] sub duci [...]: that use makes smal esteem of great things: so it will follow on the contrary side, that Novelty makes evill appeare greater, as the way which a man is least acquainted with s [...]emes the longest.I [...]l. Capit [...]l. in Max m [...] & [...]. Vid. [...] S [...]turn. And therfore the Romans did use them­selves unto their gladiatory fights and bloody spectacles that acquaintance with wounds and blood might make thē the lesse fear it in the wars.

[Page 206]And lastly, such is the imbred cautelousnesse of Nature in declining all noxious things, and such is the common suspition of the Minde, whereby out of a tendering of it's own safety, it is willing to know every thing before it make ex periment of any, and thereby it is made naturally fearfull even of harmlesse and inoffenssive thing [...] (Omniatutatimens, much more then of those which bring with them the noyse and face of evill.

Now the coruption of this passion herein i [...], when it falleth too soone upon the Object, and snatcheth it from the understanding before that it hath duely weighed the nature of it; when [...]s Aristotle speakes of Anger) that it runs away from reason with an halfe message, so the Object shall be pluckt away from the understanding with an halfe judgemen [...]. For when a man hath but an halfe and broken sight, like him in the Gospel, he will be easily apt to judge men as big as trees, and to passe a false sentence upon any thing which he feares.

Another cause of Feare may be Conscience of evill and guiltinesse of minde, which like mud in water, the more it is stirred, doth the more soule [...]isd. 17. 11. and thicken: For wickednesse, when it is condemed of it's owne witnesse is exceeding timorous, and being [...]. Anal. lib. 6. pressed with conscience, alwayes forecasteth terrible things; and as the Historian speaketh of Tyrants, so may we of any other wicked men, Si recludan­tur mentes, posse aspici laniatus & ictus, their mindes with lust, cruelly and uncleane resolution, be­ing no lesse torne and made raw, then the body flight [Page 207] with scourges: Every vicious man hath a double flight from God, a flight from the Holinesse, and a flight from the Iustice of his will. Adam first eates, and next he hides: as soone as he hath trans­gressed the Covenant, he expects the Curse, and therefore wee shall still observe that men are afraid of those whom they have injured. Aelian. Var. Hist. l. 13. c. 38. Al biciades having provoked the Athenians, was afraid to trust them, saying, It is a foolish thing for a man when he may flie, to betray himselfe into their hands from whom he cannot flie. And therefore they who would have us feare them, de­sire nothing more then to be privie to our guilts, and to know such crimes of us, as by detecting of which, they have it in their power to bring ei­ther infamie or losse upon us.Inven. S [...]tyr. [...] erit verri qui ver­rem tempore qu [...] valt. Accusare p [...] test, &c.

Scire volunt secreta domus, atque inde Timeri.
Into our secret crimes they pry, that so
We may feare them, when they our vices know.

And therefore innocency is the best Armour that any man can put or against other mens ma­liceProv. 28. 1. or his owne feares: For the righteous are bold as a Lion.Minus time­ [...]ant Epami­nondem. [...] [...]. Pl [...]tarch. de [...].

Other causes of Feare might here be obser­ved which I shall but intimate. As we feare active and busie men, because if they be provo­ked, they will stirre and looke about to revenge themselves.

We feare likewise Delators, because they are inquisitive and pry into the secrets of others. Plutarch compares them unto cupping glasses [Page 288] which draw ever the worst humours of the body unto them, and to those gates through which none passed but condemned and piacular per sons. We may liken them unto flies, which re­sort onely to the raw and corrupt parts of the body, or if they light on a sound part, never leave blowing on it, till they dispose it to putrefaction. For this is all the comfort of malevolent persons, to make others appeare worse then they are, that they themselves, though they be the worst of men, may not appeare so.

We feare also abusive and Satyricall wits, which make use of other mens names, as of Whetstones to sharpen themselves upon.

Omnes hi metuunt versus, odere poetas,
Fanum habet in corn [...], longe suge; dummodo risum
[...]orac. [...]. 1. S [...]. 4.
Excut [...]at sibi, non hic cuiquam parcet amico.
Et, quodcun (que) semel Chart is illeverit, omnes
Gestiet a furno redeuntes scire, lacuque,
Et pueros, & anu [...]——
These all hate Poets, feare to suffer seorne
From those curst wits, which carry hay in horne.
Shun them, they wil not spare their dearest friend
to make thēselves sport. Thē what they have pend
Th'are big with, till old wives & boyes that goe
From Ovens and from washpooles know it too.

Lasty, we feare, close, cunning; and suppressed [...] A [...]tst. Rb [...]. l. 2. malice, which like a skinn'd wound doth wrankle inwardly: Crafty, insinuative, plausible men, [Page 289] that can shrowd and palliate their revengefull purposes, under pretexts of love. I formerly no­ted it of Tiberius, and [...]. Aelius Spartianu [...] observeth it of Antoninus Geta, that men were more afraid of his kindnesse then of his anger, because his use was to shew much curtesie there where he inten­ded mischiefe.

And [...]. Caesar was wont to say that he was not afraid of Antony and Dolabella, bold adversaries, but of Brutus and Cassius, his pale and leane ene­mies, who were able to smoother there passion, till they had fit opportunity to act it. The Itali­ans (they say) have a Proverb wherein they pro­mise to take heed themselves of their enemie, but pray to God to deliver them from their friend. And this as it is of all other the most dangerous and the most unchristian, so is it the most unworthy and sordid disposition of minde, (I cannot finde wordes bad enough to character it [...]. by) which at the same time can both flatter and hate, and with the same breath praise a man, and undoe him. And therefore the Arist. [...]th c. lib. 4. cap. 8. [...] Philoso­pher telleth us that a magnanimous man is [...] & [...]. Such an one as doth boldly professe as well his displeasure as his love, estee­ming it timorousnesse to stifle and conceale his affections.

Of all Christs enemies, Iudas when he kissed him, the Herodians when they praised him, and the Devill when he confess'd him were the worst and ill-favouredest. A leprosie was ever unclea­nest when it was whitest, and Satan is never more [Page 210] wicked or more ugly then when he puts on Sa­muels Mantle. Hatred when it flatters, is the most mishapen monster. Like those poisons which kill men with laughing; or like the Philistines trespasse-offering, Mice, and Emerauds made of gold.

CHAP. XXVIII. Of the Effects of Feare, suspition, Circumspe­ction, Superstition, 'Betraying the suc­cours of Reason, Feare Generative, Refle­cting, Inward, weakning the faculties of the Minde, Base Supition, wise Caution.

I Proced to consider some of the Effects of this Passion, whereof the first may be Sus­pition and Credulity, which either other mens rumors, or our owne working Imagi­nation frameth untoit self. Which effect of Feare the Historian hath wisely observed, Retineri comeatus Tac [...]. lib. 4. dum Timet, Credit, what he feared that he belee­ved. And in another place speaking of the strange relations, which had been made of Monsters, his Iudgement on the report is, Visa, sive ex metu cre­dita. A [...]al. lib. 2▪ It was uncertaine whether they had beene [Page 211] really seen or beleeved out of Feare. For as timo­rous men are by their own suspicion ready to frame unto themselves new terrours, and to feare where no feare is, which the Poet hath observed.

Quae finxêre Timent.
[...] M [...]and.
—they are afraid, Of fancies which themselves have made.

So are they ready likewise to beleeve the ap­parition of their owne braine for reall terrours: For Tacitus his speech is here likewise true: Fin­gunt Creduntque, first they feigne, and then they beleeve.

Now the Reason hereof may be, First, the gene­rallQuorum in al­ [...]orius m [...]nu vita posita est, saepius ill [...]d cogitant quid p [...]ssit is cujus in diliou: sunt quà [...] q [...]id de [...] facere. Cic. pro q [...]inc­tio. Impression of Nature, which being subject unto Infinite dangers, hath therefore given it a wisedome of providence, and circumspection to foresee those evils, which cannot by dexterity be so easily shifted off, as they may at a distance be prevented; so that wee finde even in the most cleare and undisturbed order of our operations toward any new thing (though not apprehen­ded as noxious and offensive to our Nature) un­till it be better understood, a secret drawing back and feare least it should prove hurtfull unto us; how much more then when it is once prepos­sessed with passion: For as cloth once died from it's naturall white, will take no other but a darker colour: So minds once steeped in the bitter De Timore is [...]o me [...] [...] de q [...]ae d [...]m apud al▪ [...]odig. . 9. cap. 26. hu­mours of this melancholique passion, will sel­dome [Page 292] admit of any, but more blacke and feare­full conceits. Quod de [...] ob­servani [...] Am­mian Marcell. lib. 16. [...] [...] l'lu­tar [...]bus de Me­dea R [...]ipid. in Medea. De Domitian [...] [...] quidam [...] magu quam cum [...] sunt Timend [...] sunt. Sen [...]. Ep. 11. And from this suspition of feare it is that timerous men are usually cruell when they gaine any advantage. Their jealousie tea­ching them to doe that unto others which they feare from them.

A second Reason may be, because in feare the minde of man is drawne to a neerer sense of it's weaknesse, and to a more prejudicate apprehensi­on of the adverse power: and therefore it is a true observation, Tacit. Annal. lib. [...]. Vid. Plutarch. de superstitione Et lib. contra Epicur. Max. Tyrius [...]. 4. Clem. Alex. Strom. lib. 7. p. 51 [...]. Nist. lib. 2. Prona ad Religionem p [...]rculsa semel mentes, &c. Mindes once possessed with feare­full conceits, are most forward in sacrifices, and Religious Ceremonies, to avert the evils, which they expect. So that as Tacitus on another oc­casion speakes, Inclinatis ad credendum. So I may say, Inclinatis ad timendum animis loco omnium, eti­am Fortuna, When the minde is once drooping, things which before passed away as matters of course and casualty, are now drawne within the compasse of presages and Emphaticall evils.

But here by the way we are to remember that this credulity of feare is to be understood with re­spect to it's owne suspition, otherwise in regard of those strengthening helpes which are given against it, it is ever Incredulous: O thou of little faith! why doest thou feare?

Now this effect of Feare is generally in it selfe a corruption of it: For though I would have a mans dangers make him provident and so­licitous in the forecasting future evils out of a sound and sober conjecture, according as are [Page 293] the likelihoods of their event, and not have him flatter himselfe in a carelesse security, nor divert his Minde from such unwelcome and pensive thoughts, like Vitellius in Tacitus, who in the neere approach of his fatall [...]ine, was Trepidus dein Te­mulentus, one houre Fearfull, and the next Drun­ken, smothering in himselfe every thought of en­suing danger, and enduring nothing but I [...]cundum & L [...]surum; that which was pleasing, though harmefull to him; yet I would not have the mind tormented with ungrounded Fancies, and preoc­cupate Evils to be no further effected than in our braine, because hereby it is made soft and irreso­lute, tumultuary and confused, and both wayes much indisposed and disabled for Action.

Another ill Effect of Feare, is a Dislike of whatever means Reason presents for the free­ing of us, whence issue Inconstancy and con­tinuall Change of Resolutions, hating all Coun­sels when they are present, and recalling them when they are too farre past▪ which Effect is ele­gantly described by the Author of the Booke of Wisedome, who saith that Feare is a betraying of the Succours which Reason offereth: a submitting of them to the false interpretations of a crooked and pre­judicate suspition, which overcuriously discove­ring Weaknesse in all means, and making use of none, doth thereby betray Nature into the hands of Danger. Themistocles apud l'lut. Apo [...]. They say of a certaine Fish, that it hath a Sword, but it hath not a Heart: a perfect Embleme of Feare, which though you put into Armor, yet you cannot give it Courage. And [Page 294] C [...]abrias ib. & O [...]t. a de [...]. [...]. Alex. Arist. [...] &c. [...]. [...]. [...]dip. [...]yr. [...]ac. A [...]. [...]. 3. [...]. Omnia tuta imens. Non [...] [...] [...] suum quā boste [...]m tu crun [...] [...] tanto. Liv. l 1. [...]. l. 3. therefore as he said, an army of Lyons led by a Hart, would doe lesse service than an army of Harts led by a Lyon, because in that case Feare would betray her owne succours. And this I finde a frequent observation, that Pavidis consiliain in­certo. Feare ever dazleth the Eye, and blindeth the Mind in all her Counsels: and Timor etiam auxilia reformidat. It is afraid of the very succors that are offered. And therefore it is noted as a great maste­ry of Vlysses over his Feares, that he could thinke and wisely advise what to do.

—Nec talia passus Vlysses, Oblitusq, sui est Ithacus discrimine tanto.
Although with Feares opprest▪ yet he had not
The Cares and thoughts of his own peace forgot.

Now the reason of this may bee first, because Feare is a Multiplying and Generative Passion, ever producing motions of its owne Nature. He [...] which feares danger from anothers power, will ea­sily [...]. In q [...]m sed usu receptum, quod honesta confilia, [...]ei [...], [...] mala aut pros. pere [...] ita velp b [...]n tur, vil [...] ▪ pre­ [...]. [...]. l. 5. ep. 21. [...]. Epict. l. 2. c. 1. feare Errours or Impotency in his owne ayds▪ and it is * common with men to thinke them­selves Vnwise, when they feele themselves Vnhappy▪ & this very thought that they are so, doth I know not by what Fascination make them so. So that as a chased Buck, when he flyes from the Dogges, doth many times fly into the Net which was spread for him: so when our Feares drive us from one mischiefe, the often hamper and intangle us in another.

[Page 295]Againe it is the property of Feare, to make us euer reflect upon our own Weaknes, & (as I said) not only to present it, but to worke it: as the Sun when it discloseth unto us the Glorious Lights of the one part, is commonly it selfe hid in the other part of the Heavens: as contrarily, when it shineth on the Earth, it hides the Starres: so it is in those two Offices of Reason▪ the Transient and Reflexive act, that whereby we looke Outward on others; or Inward on our selves, specially where there is Passion to withdraw and pervert it; as the one is stronger, so commonly the other is weaker: which is true most of all in this Passion of Feare, wherein the more we see of dangers from outward oppositions, the lesse we see of inward strength for resistance. Insomuch that great minds, when they meet with great dangers, are oftentimes stagge­red, as the Po [...]t intimates, when Ajax came forth to battell:

[...]
Illad. [...] [...]62.
Feare had the other Trojans all opprest;
Yea Hectors heart panted within his breast.

A third Effect may be a Weaknesse of the Fa culties of the Minde, and the Spirits in the Body; whereby the one is made unfit for Search or Counsell; the other for Service or Execution. And hence (as Plutarch noteth) it imports in thePlut. de [...]up. Greeke, a Binding or Shutting up, and so with­drawing and indisposing the Soule for Action. [Page 296] And such Actions, as Feare forceth a man upon, are presumed to be so weake and unnaturall, that it is a Maxime in the Law, Per metumgesta, pr [...] non ratis habentur: Those things which wee doe in Feare, are void and invalide to binde, when the Feare which forceth them is removed. And as it is in the Civill State, so it is in the Morall Common-wealth of the Soule, there are three principall wayes to inferre Weaknesse, Forreign Incursions, Intestine Tumults, and an Emptying of the Parts, all which are to be seen in an Extre­mity of Feare. Where first two things are to be granted, one concerning the Body, and the other the Mind. The first is, that the Spirits being of the most strong, subtle, and quicke motion, are the principall Instruments of Entercourse, either in Negotiation to, or Service from Reason: the other, that the Mind being of a Spirituall and Elevating Nature, retaines then the perfectest power of Operation, when it least of all suffers the Incursion of grosser Passions, which yet I un­derstand not of all manner of Ministry and Ad­mixtion of Appetite, with Reason (as if the Regu­lar motions of inferiour powers did not serve to sharpen the Counsels of the higher) but onely of Invasion and Tyranny.

Which granted, wee may observe all the three former causes of Weaknesses in an Extremity of Feare. For first there is a Confused and Vnser­viceable mixture of Passion and Reason: The Passion with too much outrage and assault breaking in, and distracting the advices of Reason, which is [Page 297] Forreigne Incursion: For, though these two are not parts of a different Regiment; yet they are of a different Nation (if I may so speake) the one belonging to the higher, the other to the lower parts or region of the Soule. Secondly, there is Tumult and Disorder amongst the Spirits, which is Civill Dissention. Thirdly, there is a Retyring of them to the principall Castle or Fort, the Heart, whereby the Outward Quarters are left Naked and Vngarrison'd; which though it be a strengthning of the Better, yet it is a Weakning of the Major part, and this answereth unto Emp­tying or Vacuity. By all which, both Reason is made unfit for Counsell (all the Conceipts therof being choaked and stifled with a disorderly throng of Spirits and Passions) [...]nd the Body like­wise is so benummed, that though our discourse were entire, yet it could not be there seconded with any successefull service. And hence are those [...]. many ill Effects of Feare upon the Body, white­nesse of Haire, Trembling, Silence, Thirst, Pale­nesse. Horrour, Gnashing of Teeth, Emission of Excrements. The Outward parts being over­cooled, and the Inward melted by the strength of the Spirits retyring thither. Which Homer hath thus described, speaking of a Coward.

His Colour comes and goes, nor doth he set
[...].
Long in one place; he croucheth to his feet;
His Heart pants strong, and intercepts his breath,
His Teeth doe gnash with, but the thoughts of Death.
[Page 298]Brave men are still the same, not much agast,
When the first brunt of their Attempts is past.

Where by the way we may observe what Se­neca also tels us, that Feare doth usually attend the [...]. beginnings of great enterprizes, even in the worthiest men. Which mindeth me of one more, (and that an usefull and profitable) Effect of this Passion, I meane [...]. [...] [...]. [...]. Care, Wisedome, and Caution, which ever proceeds from a Moderate Feare, which is a Dictate of Nature. And therefore the weakest Fishes swim together in shoales, and the weakest Birds build in the smallest and outer­most boughes, which are hardest to come unto. And we may observe that Nature hath made the weakest Creatures swiftest: as the Dove, the Hare, the Hart: and the [...]. say that the Hare is very quicke at hearing, and sleepeth with his Eyes open, every way sitted to discouer danger before it surprise him. For as in Religion, a Feare that is governed by the Word of God, so propor­tionably in Morality: a Feare grounded by the Word of Reason, is the Principle of Wisedome. As Security and Supinenesse is the Root of Folly, which Tiberius replyed to the petition of Hortulu [...], wherein he requested of the Senate a Contributi­on from the publicke Treasury to recover the ho­nour of his Family, which now was sunke and be­gan to wither. Industry saith hee will languish, Idlenesse will increase, if no man have Feare or Hope in himselfe: but all will securely expect a supply from others; in themselves l [...]zy and bur­thensome [Page 299] unto us: and it is the judgement of Ta­citus upon one of the wisest Policies, which ever that Emperour practised, I meane his writing to the Legions abroad, Tanquam adepto principatu, as if he were already Emperour, when at home in the Senate he used only Modesty and Refusals, That he did it out of Feare, so wise a Counsellor was his [...]. Passion unto him. And we find that some * great Commanders have caused their Skout-watches to be unarmed, that Feare might make them the more vigilant. And therefore this Passion is the [...]. Instrument of Discipline, seasoning the Minde, as ground Colours doe a Table, to receive those beauties and perfections, which are to bee super­induced.

CHAP. XXIX. Of that particular Affection of Feare, which is called Shame. What it is. Whom we thus feare. The ground of it, Evill of Turpitude, Injustice, Intemperance, Sordidnesse, Soft­nesse, Pufillanimity, Flattery, Vaine-glory, Misfortune, Ignorance, Pragmaticalnesse, Deformity, Greatnesse of Minde, Vnworthy Correspondencies, &c. Shame, Vitious and Vertuous.

BEsides this generall Considera­tion [...] Arist. Eth. l. [...]. c. 1 [...]. [...], &c. Arist. R [...]et. l. 2. c. 6. [...]. Dama [...]ce▪ de Orthod. sid. l, 2. c. 15. A. Gell. l. 9 c. 6 [...] Iliad. [...] 214. of the Passion of Feare, there is one particular thereof, which calleth for some little observa­tion; namely, Shame, which is a Feare of just Disgrace, and Reproof in the Minds of those, whose good opinion wee doe or ought to value, as hee said in the Poet, [...].

Now those whom we thus feare, are wise men, (for so Polydamas is said to looke behind and be­fore him.) Aged men, and all whose presence wee reverence as Parents, Rulers, Counsellers, Friends: Any whom we our selves Admire, or who Admire us. We feare disgrace with those whom we Ad­mire, because their judgement of us, is in our own Apprehension, a kind of Touch-stone, which is [Page 301] we cannot suffer the Tryall off, argues us to be but corrupt and uncurrant Mettail. And wee feare it with those who Admire us, because as every man it willing to see his face when it is cleane, in that Glasse which represents it fairest: so when it is soule, of all others he shunneth that most. In the former case we are in danger to misse of what wee desired; in the other, wee are in danger to ship­wracke what we before inioyed.

Wee are apt to be ashamed with our Friends, because their opinion wee value, and with our Enemies, because theirs we feare; with our Friends, because they are Grieved; with our Enemies, be­cause they are delighted with that which shames us.

Againe wee feare in this Regard, Rigid and Se­vere Men, who are not ready to forgive, not to put Candide and Charitable Constructions upon what we doe. Therefore when Cat [...] was present (who was virrigida Innocentia, a sterne and severeLiv. l. 3 [...]. val. Max. lib. 2. [...]. 10 Vid. e [...]am lib. 4 cap. 5. Censor of the manners of Men) none durst call for the obscoene spectacles of their Floralia, being more awed by the Authority of the man, than al lured by the pleasure of the Playes.

Likewise Busy and Garrulous men, because they enquire into our Crimes, and having disclosed, do divulge them. For which cause wee feare in this case the Multitude, because an ill name is like an [...] [...] [...] ­dosed [...] [...]. [...]p [...]. l 7. c. 1. ill face, the broader it is drawn, and the more light it hath about it, it appeares the more deformed. As a little Gold beaten into thin Leaves: a little Water drawn into a thin steeme and vapor, seems [Page 302] wider than it was at first: so even lesser Crimes be­ing multiplied through the mouthes of many, do grow into a spreading cloud, and obscure a mans name. For hee is presumed to be void either of wisedome or modesty, that doth not feare many Eyes. We feare Innocent and Vertuous Men, their presence aweth us from Liberty of Sinning, and maketh us blush if they deprehend us in it, be­cause Examples have a proportionable Authority over the Heart of Man, as Lawes have, which wee doe not trespasse without Feare. And therefore the Philosopher adviseth to live alwaies so, as if some grave, and serious and severe person were ever before us, to behave our selves sub Custode, & Sev. [...]p. 11. & 25. Cydias [...]rator Atheniensi [...] a [...]d Aristote­le [...]. R [...]et. l. 2. cap. 6. Et Persae adu [...] ­co [...] praeài­ [...]. [...] [...]bent quod Cy [...] [...] [...]sset Pl [...]tarch. Apoth. Aristid. [...]rat. de [...] Paedagoge, as under the Eye of a Keeper, because such a mans conversation will either regulate ours, or disgrace it. Vitious men do the lesse feare one another, by how much they stand in need of mutuall pardon, as we finde Stertorius (if I forget nor) giving those souldiers of the Enemies army their lives, who had but one Eye, hee being him­selfe Mon [...]phthalmos.

Againe we feare Envious and malevolent per­sons, because such looke upon our Actions with prejudice; and as Momu [...] when he could not finde fault with the face in the Picture of Venus, picked a quarrell at her Slipper: so these men will ever have somthing either in Substance or Circum­stances of our Actions, to misreport and expose to scandall.

Lastly we feare those in this respect, whose Company we shall most be used unto; because that [Page 303] leaves us not time wherein to forget our Errours, or to fortify our selves against them. It makes a man live ever under the sense of his Guilt. In which respect Cat [...]major was wont to say, That a man should most of all reverence himselfe, be­causePlutarch A­poph. hee is ever in his owne sight and Company.

The Fundamentall Ground of this Affection, [...]. is any Evill that hath either Guilt, or any kinde of Turpitude in it, or any signes and suspitions there­of, reflecting either on our selves, or any of ours, whose reputation we are tender of. And thus the Apostle telleth us, that all Sinne is the matter of Shame, when it is revived with a right judgement. What fruit had you then in those things whereof you are now ashamed. That which hath Emptinesse in the Beginning, and Death in the End, must needs have Shame in the middle. But though all Sinne with respect to Gods Eye and Iudgement doth cause Shame yet in the Eye of men, those cause it most which have any notable & more odious Turpitude adhering unto them. As either obscene or subdo­lous, and dishonest Actions when they are dete­cted, forging of Deeds defacing Records, coun­terfeiting of names or seales, suborning of Wit nesses, making use of ingenious Professions, as Cloakes to palliate, and instruments to provoke Abusive and Illiberall practises.

Such are all kinde of Sordid Actions or Beha­viours, as Gaine raised out of despicable Com modities, (as [...] [...] in Ve [...]p. c. 23 v [...]d. [...] apud [...] lib. [...] Vespatian set a vectigal or excise up­on Pisse) and the Philosopher tels us of some that made a oo [...]r. [...] V [...]d. [...]. [...]. pu [...] [...]. [...]. 2. [...] V [...]d. de ca Theophrast. gaine of the dead. Such are also the [Page 304] Livings which by sordid ministers, Panders, Bawdes, Curtezans, Vid. Desid. Herald. digres. l 1 c. 21. Parasites, Iuglers, Vid. l Ti [...]. [...]aneg. Taci▪ Annal. l. 4. Dela tors, Cheaters, Sharkes, and shifting Compani­ons make unto themselves, such the Poets miser [...].

Hera [...]. l. 1. Sat. 1. Vid. Pl [...]ut. Aut. l. [...]ll. 2, [...]. [...]
Populus me sibilat at mihi plaudo Ipse do, si mul ac nummos contemplor in arcâ.
The people hisse me all abroad,
But I at home my selfe applaud.
When in my Coffers I behold,
That which none hisse at, heapes of Gold.

Many particular Causes there are which are apt to excite this affection, some whereof I shall briefly name as.

First Sloth, and shrinking from such labour, which those that are better, older, weaker, more delicate then our selves doe willingly undergoe. [...] Thus Menelaus in the Poet seeing the Grecians as fearefull to undertake a single combat with He­ctor, as they were ashamed to deny it, did thus up­braid their Cowardize.

[...].
Illl [...]d▪. 97.
What Grecian soldiers turn'd to Grecian dames?
O verè [...] ▪ eui [...] [...] [...]. 9.
That can digest so great, so many shames?
What not a man of Greece (O fowle disgrace)
Dare meet or looke proud Hector in the face?
Well, sit you downe Inglorious, Heartlesse men,
Turn'd to your first water and earth: yet then:
[Page 305]Ile take up Armes; for Victories last End,
Doth not on Our, But Divine will depend.

In like manner Hector rebuketh the basenesse of Paris in flying from Menalaus.

[...].
Trim Warriour, tell me what thy Lute can doe,
[...]iad. [...]. 55. [...] Vocal lapides quibus [...]dul. [...] ex Anti­ [...] more [...] [...]. [...]. Quam [...]niquè [...] [...] ij qui minu [...] habent, [...] s [...]mper [...] [...] [...] [...]. [...]. lho [...]m.
What Venus Graces, comely heire, sweet hew,
When thou shalt wallow in the dust? Th'art far,
Fitter to weare Stone-coat, then Coat of War.

Againe, any thing which argueth pusillanimity or littlenesse of minde is a just ground of shame, as to recount curtesies & upbraid them, & there­fore he said in Seneca, Non tanti est vixisse. That his life was lesse worth, then to be so valued to him, in daily Exprobrations, and that his blood with lesse trouble to him might have beene let out at his veines, then to be every day disordered, and called up into his face. To receive continuall Gifts, and be ever craving from our inseriours, burthen some to those who can lesse beare it.

Hereunto referre all Light ludicrous and ridi­culous behaviour, wherein if a Grave or seriousPlutarch. A. [...]opi l. [...]con. [...] [...] Plutarch. & [...]. [...]. Eun [...]. [...] Act 2. [...]. 2. A [...]l. 1. [...] 7. & [...] la [...]ti Ar­ [...] in mil. 1, Glor. man be deprehended, it rendreth him suspected of a minde that can flag and lessen, and therefore Agesilaus being so taken playing with his childe made his Apologie for it, and desired his friend not to thinke light of him, till he had children of his owne, for love will teach Greatnesse of Mind to descend.

Also all sordid Arts of a Flattery, which prai­seth, [Page 306] imitateth, creepeth, changeth, complieth, transformeth it selfe to all shapes to get a li­ving, and like Crowes pulleth out mens eyes, with praises that it may after more securely make a prey of them, Fadum crimen servitutis, as the Historian well cals it, A servile and filthy Crime.

Any thing which argueth vanity, and windi­nesse of minde, as Vid. Theoph. [...] Pla [...]ti mil [...] Glor Arist. Eth c. l 4. c. 13. Val. Max. [...]. 9. c. 15. Arrogance, and vaine glori­ous Ostentation, ascribing to our selves things which belong not unto us, intruding into the learning Lands, [...]cheiements of other men, as hee who called all the ships in the harbour at AthensPlutarch. l. De [...] [...] his owne. Labore alien [...] magnam partam gloriam verbis sapè in se trans [...]ovet. Whereunto belong Absurd, and unusuall Affectations in words or fashions, mimicall and fantasticall gesticulations srothy and superficiall Complements, Strange and exoticke Habits, which are usually the seum of Light, and unsetled mindes, and ever expose them to contempt. In so much that Alexander himselfe escaped not the Imputation of Lenity, when he followed the fashions of those Coun­tries which he had subdued.

Misfortune and decay in the outward Orna­ments of Life, for it is not in mens fortunes, as in their monuments wherein Carios jam [...] [...]a­sumq▪ mino­rem [...] & [...] [...] viculu, [...]. q [...] In­venal. Ruine doth many times conciliate Reverence.

Nil habet Infelix Paupertas durius inse Quam quod ridiculos homines facit—
Vnhappy Poverty hath nothing worse,
Then that it maketh men ridiculous.

And therefore men of sunk and broken estates are ashamed to live there, where they have beene formerly in Credit and Estimation, as Hecuba complaining in the Tragaedie.

[...]
Eu [...]ipid. in Hec.
M [...]gnum do­ [...]oren habet unde cum ho­no [...]e dec [...]sseris codem [...] ig­nominia re­verti. Cic. pro l. Muran [...]. [...], Iliad. [...].
In this my broken and dejected case,
Pardon me, if I shame to shew my face.
To Polymestor, whose Eyes once have seene,
Me, a now spoyled Captive, then a Queen.

Againe, Ignorance and Ineptitude in our own proper functions and miscarriage in our owne Arts and professions, is an Exprobration, eitherAr [...]ium pecca­ta artificibus pu [...]ori sunt &c.—Sen. Ep. 97. of indiligence, or of weaknesse. As want of pro­ficiancy in a Student, of Elocution in an Orator, of Military wisedome in a Souldier, &c. And therefore a Physician will seldome stay to see his Patient buried, he usually departs before the sicke man, because Funerals are Convicia Medi corum. Yet all Ignorance is not matter of dis­grace, for some things there are below the inqui­ry, or Studies of some men. And therefore though Tully tels us that when Themistocles de­clinedCic. Tusc. qu. lib. 1. the Lute▪ he was esteemed more Ignorant then became a person of quality, yet it was a brave Apologie which he made for himselfe, [Page 308] That though he knew not to handle a Lute, yet [...]. he knew to conquer a Citie. And Gel [...] when others after a Feast sang to an Instrument, called for his great Horse, and did excellently manage that. And as it was a cautelous Answer which Favorinus gave touching Adrian the Emperour, who had censured him in his owne profession ofSpa [...]tian in Adrian [...]. Grammer. That he durst not be learnedner then he who commanded thirtie legions; so it was a ruer answer which another Artificer gave in the like case unto a Prince. God forbid Sir that youPlutarch. should know things of so meane a quality, better then I who owe my subsistence unto them. [...].

And as Ignorance in our owne, so Intrusion and Vsurpation of other mens offices, is a ground of shame, especially if they be such as wherein we descend the below the Dignity of our places or [...] [...] [...], [...]rna­mentum in [...] Sal [...] la [...]. de [...]. lib. 4. professions, as when men of liberall condition ap­ply themselves unto the businesse of fordid per­sons. For every man is intrusted with the Dig­nity of his place, he is to be not onely the posses­sor, but the Protector of it, which when he be­traies, it doth justly Revenge it selfe upon him with contempt and disgrace.

Againe, any notorious externall Deformities, Siden. [...]. l. 3 [...]. 13. [...]. [...]. Vid. Vo [...] [...]. part. 1. p. 78. 79 O [...] [...] [...] lib 3. c. 17. [...]9. and Dehonestament a corporis, especially if there be any thing of our owne, either guilt or servility in them. The Grecians taking notice of the ill shape and worse conditions of Thirsiti [...], are said to looke on him with derision and laughter, then when they had other occasions of sadnesse. And when Vlysses his Companions were by Circe [Page 309] transformed into shape of Swine, they wept and were ashamed of their owne deformities. And the Poet describeth Delophebus whom Menelaus had dismembred,

—Pavitantem & dira tegentem Supplicia.
Aen [...]id. 6.
Afraid of being knowne, carefull to hide
His mangled wounds, that they might not be spide.

And we finde how carefull men were to coverVid. [...] ­um lib. 6. Val. Max. l. 6. c. [...]. §. 7. any of these notes and prints of Infamy, or servi­lity, which persons either extremely vicious, or in [...]. Calig. c. 27. bondage were marked withall, for infamous or servile persons were wont so to be branded.Lips. l. 2. Elect. c. 15.

Many times Greatnesse of Minde is a cause of Shame, either for something which such a man suffereth in himselfe, or in those that are neare unto him, such was that of the Romanes, Ad fur­ [...] Caudinas, of which the Historian giveth this observation. [...] ob [...] fixi in terram ocu­li [...] ad omnia [...] a [...]res & p [...]dor [...] lu­ [...], ingentem [...] [...]rarum ex alto anim [...] [...] j [...]dicia tran [...]. Liv. l. 9. Capitol. in M [...]x.

Their obstinate silence, Eyes fastened to the Earth, Eares refusing all comfort, Faces ashamed to behold the light, were certaine Evidences of a minde deeply resolved upon Revenge. And of Maximinus, of whom the Historian telleth us, that out of a Desire to conceal his Ignoble birth, he slew all, even the best of his friends, which were Conscious unto it. So poverty meeting with Pride doth often suffer conflicts with this [Page 310] Passion of shame, when penury denies that which Luxury and Pride demaunds.

—Quid enim majore Cachi [...]no.
Iuvenal.
Excipitur vulgi quam pauper Apicius?
Who without much irrision can endure,
To see a Beggar a proud Epicure?

Againe, Acqual [...]tance and Intimacy with In­famous Pet. Victor in Ar [...]ic. Rhet. l. 2. persons is noted by the Philosopher a­mongst the Grounds of shame, and therefore it was upbraided unto Plato that Calippus, the Mur­therer of his hoste had been bred in his Schoole.Plutarch. l. de capiend. ex [...]. utili­tate. And to Secrates, that he was resorted unto by Al­cib [...]ades, a factious and turbulent Citizen, and to Themist [...]cles that he held correspondence, and in­telligence with Pausanius a Traitour; and weTaci [...]. [...]. l. 5. c. 6. finde how fatall the favour of [...] after his fall, was to many of his friends, that no wonder if every man not onely out of Indignation, but out of feare too cryed out.

—Nunquam si quid mihi credis amavi
Iuvenal. [...]. 1 [...].
Hunc hominem.

Such being the impotent and immoderate Passions of many men to trample on the sam [...] persons in their calamity, whom in their grea [...] nesse they almost adored, as he said,

[...].
When the Oake is fallen that stood,
Torent. A. delph.
Then every man will gather wood.

Lastly, not onely things shamefull to them­selves, but such as are signes, and Intimations of them doe usually beget this Affection. As Aes­chinus in the Comaedian, blushed when he saw his Father knocke at the doore of an infamous woman, because it was a token of a vicious inten­sion. [...]. lu Ca­sar. And therefore Casar was wont to say. That hee would have those that belonged unto him free, as well from Suspicion, as from Crime, for we shall never finde that a man who is tender of his Conscience will be Prodigall of his Credit, and he who is truely fearfull of incurring Censure from himselfe by the Guilt of a Crime, will in some proportion be fearfull of incurring censure from others by the shew and suspition of it; for as a Good Conscience is a Feast to give a man a cheerfull heart; so a good name is an oyntment to give him a cheerefull Countenance.

There is a Twofold shame, The one Vertuous, [...] [...]. in Dioge­ne. as Diogenes was wont to say, That Blushing was the colour of Vertue, The other Vicious, and that [...] ille vul­ [...] & rubo [...] quost contra p [...]dorem mu­ [...]. [...]. in Agric. either out of Cruelty, as Tacitus and Seneca observe of Domitian, that he was never more to be feared then when he blushed. Or else out of Cowardize, when a man hath not strength enough of Coun­tenance, to out-face and withstand a Vicious so­licitation, as it was said of the men of Asia, that they had out of tendernes of face, exposed them­selves [Page 312] to much inconvenience, because theyQuidam nua­ [...] magis [...] [...]uri eru­ [...] Ti­mendi sint. quasi omnem v. recundiem essude int. Syl­la tu [...]e erat violentissimu [...] [...]uen faciem ejus sanguis o [...] viser [...]t. Sen [...]e Epist. could not pronounce that one Syllable, Noe. It was a better Resolution, that of Zenophanes, who being provoked unto some vitious practise, confessed himselfe a Coward at such a Chal­lenge, as not daring to doe dishonestly.

I will conclude this matter with that Excel­lent Similitude wherwith Plutarch beginneth it, in that golden book of his touching the same Argu ment. That as Thistles, though noxious things in themselves, are usually signes of an Excellent11. Plutarch. de vil. Puda [...]e Ground wherein they Grow, so shamefastnesse thought many times a weaknesse, and betrayer of the Minde, is yet generally an Argument of a soule, ingenuously and verttuously disposed.

CHAP. XXX. Of the Affection of Anger. The Distincti­ons of it. The Fundamentall Cause thereof, Contempt. Three kindes of Contempt, Dis-estimation, Disappointment, Calum­nie.

I Now proceed to the last of the Passions, Anger, whereof, in it self a subject of large Discourse, yet being every where obuious, I shall not speake much. I intend not therefore distinctly to han­dle the severall kindes of this Passion, which Ari­stotle in his Ethicks hath given us, Ethic. lib. 4. cap. 11. which are a sharpe Anger, and an Hard or Knotty Anger. And Saint Paul who likewise gives us Three kindes of it. Whereof the first I may call a [...]. Vid Domas [...] de O [...]thod. fid. lib. 2. [...]. 16. [...]ale Rhodes. lib. 12. [...]. 57. [...] [...] [...] [...] Inveterata plun. bea, alta mente reposta vindictae occasimem [...] expec­ [...] [...] close and buried anger, which he names bitternesse, the other a violent No [...] tulin [...] non verbis commo tion, adeo Ivam condiderat. Yacit. de libe. Annol. l. 2. burning Anger, which he calls Wrath, and the last a Desiring and pursuing An­ger, which seemeth to have it's [...] derivation from a word which signifies to Desire, and therefore is defined by Aristotle to a be [...]. & by the b Stoicks [...], words of prosecution and pursute. For these differ not Essentially or formerly amongst themselves, but onely in diversity of Degrees, and in order to the diverse constitutions of the [Page 315] Subject wherein they lodge, and of the habitsIliad. [...]. 259. unde Crabr [...] ­net irritare apud Plaut. Ampbit. Nunc in Fer­mento to [...]a est, ita t [...]rget mi­b [...]. Plant. Ca­si [...]. wherewith they are joyned.

In which respects we might observe severall other shapes of this Affection. For there is the a Anger of a Waspe, which is an Hasty, Pettish, and Fretfull Anger, proceeding from a nature b Leavened and habituated with Choler, which is presently stirred and prouoked. And there is the Anger of a Pectora qui [...] ple vum (que) gemen­tes nec copere I [...]arum fluctus in pectore pos­sunt. [...] uer. l. 3. [...]. [...]. 167. Lion, which is slow, but strong & severe, thus Elegantly described by d Homer.

[...]
He first walkes by with sk [...]rne, but when swift youth,
Vrge him with Darts, then with devouring mo [...]th
He turnes againe, and at his lips is seene
A boyling f [...]ame, while his stout heart within
Rouseth itselfe with
Dolor [...] [...]. [...]. Immani [...] [...] ­lot insecerat Ivd Claud. Multa in Ira [...] & Ridicula. Pl [...]t.
groanes: and round about
His Tayle, beating his sides and loynes, cals out
And wakeneth proud Revenge. Thus stir'd he flies
Right on with red and fierie sparkling eyes
To kill or to be kill'd—

There is further a Cowardly verball and ridi­culous Anger, like that of Whelps, which barke aloud, but run away from the thing which An­gers them. Which spendeth it selfe onely in stormes of empty Expressions, rather pleasing then punishing those whom they light on, and rendering the person that useth it a very [...], [Page 314] or Skarre▪Crow, formidable to children, but to men ridiculous, like Geta in the Comedian.

Ruerem, agerem, raperem, tunderem, prosternerem.
Terent. A­delph. Act. 3. Scen. 2.

There is a grave and serious Anger, like that of Agamemnon. An insolent and boasting Anger,Iliad. [...]. like that of Achilles. A sullen and stubborne Anger like that of the Romanc Armie disgrace­fully used by the Samnitians. A cruell and ra­ging [...]lv. lib 9 Val. Max. l. 9. cap 3. Act. 9. 1. 26. 11. Anger, like that of Scylla, who in an excesse of fury, vomited up blood, & died. And thus Saul is said to Herodot. Tholi [...]. Val. [...]. l. 9. have breathed out threatnings, and bin [...] spirat sa [...]guinem Se­ner. Thyest. [...]. Hom. v. [...] Theocrit. Idyl. [...]. Ira Cadat naso vugos (que) Sanna Perse [...]. 5. exceeding mad against the Church. A Revenge­full and impatient Anger, as that of 3. § 3 Plin lib. 33. cop. 1. Horay. Epo. l. O [...]. 4. Cambyses, who being reprooved by Prexaspes for his Drun­kennesse, con [...]uted the reproofe with this act of Cruelty, he shot the sonne of his Reproover tho­row the heart, to prove the steaddinesse of his hand. An Anger of Indignation at the honour and prosperity of unworthy persons, as that of the Roman Nobility, who seeing Cu. Flavius, a man of meane Condition, advanced to the Prae­torship, threw away their golden Rings, (the signes of their honour) to testifie their just In­dignation. The Poet thus Elegantly expresseth the like against Menas, made of a Slave a Free­man by Pompey.

Videsne Sacram metiente te via [...]
Cum bis ter [...]lnarum tog â
Vt or a vertal [...]uc & huc euntium
Liberrima Indignatio?
[Page 316]Sectus flagellis hic trium viralibus
Praconis ad fastidium,
Arat falernimille fundi jugera
Et appiam mannis terit.
When thou pacest up and downe
In thy long Gowne,
Seest thou how the people fret
To see thee Iet?
How with Indignation bold,
They cannot hold
To see a man, so lately plow'd
With scourges low'd,
Vntill at length the weary Cryer,
Began to Tyre,
Dressing a thousand Acres now
With Horse and Plow?

Lastly, an Anger of Emulation, or a displea­sure against our selves for comming short by our negligence of the perfections of other men whom haply by industry we might have equal­led. As Themistocles professed that the TrophiePlutarch. [...]. of Miltiades would not suffer him to sleepe. And Caesar wept wh [...] he read the atchiements of Alex­ander, as having not at his age done any memora­blePlutarch. in caesare. thing. And Thucydides hearing Herodotus re­cite a History which he had written, brake forth into a strange passion of weeping which the Hi­storian espying thus comforted his Father you are a happy man to be the Father of such a Son, [...]. Who is carriedSuidas in [...]. with such a vehement affection unto Learning.

[Page 317]But to passe over these particulars, I shall in the generall content my selfe with a briefe Conside­ration of the Causes and Effects of this Passion.

The Fundamentall and Essentiall Cause ofDespect [...] [...] sum, [...] qu [...] s [...]m qu [...]ru Alexi. A [...] Ego qu [...] D [...]t ùm [...] Regina, Iovu (que) E [...] S [...] & Conjux und [...]umgente [...] annot. Bellagero, & quisquam nu men Iunonu adore [...]. Praete­rea Aentad. 1. Anger, is Contempt from others meeting with the love of our selves. Whether it be disestima­tion and undervaluing of a mans person, or disap­pointment of his purposes, or slandering his good name, or any other way of casting injury on him. or any of these particulars being impaired (if by such on whom we may hope to receive revenge) doe worke not only Anxiety and Griefe (which is a motion of slight) but hope also and desire to ease it selfe, if not in the recovery of its own losse, yet in the comfort of another mans: For Calami­tyQ. Curt. [...] So [...]. Ajex, [...] [...] [...]. (as the Historian speaks) is ever either queru­lous or malignant, Cum suo malo torquetur, quiescit dien [...]. When it feels it selfe wrung and pinched, it quickly proceeds either by justice or revenge to please it selfe in † retaliation.

For the former of these, as it is the common property of Man with all other Creatures to love himselfe: so it is his particular desire also, being Animal Sociale & Politicum, to be Loved by others; because hereby that Love of himselfe, which pro­ceedeth from Iudgement and Reason, is confir­med. For every man doth more willingly beleeve that, whereunto he hath farther authority to per­suade him. And therefore though Love be not sinisterly suspitious, nor too envious in interpre­ting a mans owne, or a friends actions and beha­ [...]iour; yet that Love, which is not blind and furi­ous, [Page 318] will be ever ready to submit it selfe unto the opinion of stayed and indifferent judgements, be­cause it is conscious to it selfe, how easily it may miscarry, if it r [...]ly upon its owne censure, wherein Reason, Affection, and Prejudice are mixed to­gether.

Now then when a man already strongly posses­sed with a love of his owne or his friends person or parts, shall find either of them by others sleighted and despised; from whose joynt-respect he hoped for a confirmation of his judgement▪ there hence ariseth not onely a [...] ▪ I [...] d [...] dolor os­sibu [...] a [...]. Aeu [...]ad. 9. Affectus nun­quam sine tor­ment [...] sul vio­lentm, qui [...] dolorem cum inferre [...], pa [...], &c. Val. Max. l 9. c. 3. Dolor addidi [...] Iram. Ovid. Met. 12. Griefe to see his Expectation deceived, and his Opinion undervalued▪ but with­all a [...]pes addita suscitat Iras. Aenead. 10. Desire to make knowne unto the persons, who thus contemne him by some manner of face or tongue, or hand, or heart, or head, Revenge, (for all these may be the instruments of our An­ger) that there is in him more courage, power and worth than deserves so to be neglected. Which Passion in a word, so long as it submits it selfe to the government of Reason, is then alwaies allow­able and right, when it is grounded on the Pride and Insolency of others, who unjustly contemne us. And then Irregular and Corrupt, when it pro­ceeds from the root of Pride and Ambition in our selves, which makes us greedy of more honour from others, than their judgements or our owne worth suffers them to afford us.

To this branch of Contempt may bee referred Forget fulnesse of friends and acquaintance, where­by we upbraid them with obscurity and distance, as well from true worth, as from our affection: For [Page 319] Omnia quae curant, meminerunt, saith Tully: and Ari­stotle to the same purpose. Those things which wee doe respect, doe not lye hid and out of our sight.

Next hither may be referred all Vngratefull per­sons, who sleight those favours which they haveEjectū, li [...]tore [...]gentem. Except, & reg­ni dem [...]us in par [...]e lecavi. Amissam clas­sem [...] a morte [...]duxi. Heu su [...] [...]n­censaseror, &c. Ae [...]ad. 4. received from other mens bounties, and out of a swelling and height of stomacke, cannot endure to acknowledge any obligations; but desire to receive benefits, as Corrupt men take Bribes in the darke, and behind their backs, that so neither others, nor (if it were possible) their owne eyes might be witnesses unto it: For as Tacitus speaks, Gratia oneri habetur,: such is the pride of some men, that they disdaine not to be overcome in any thing▪ though it be in kindnesse. And therefore Vbi multum beneficiâ antevenêre, pro gratia odium redditur, saith the same Author: When they finde themselves overloaden with Love, the best requi­ [...]all which their high minds can affoord, is hatred: which cannot but worke a double Anger; an An­ger against our selves and our owne weaknesse in the choice of so unfit a subject for the placing of our benefits; and an Anger at that contemptuous Pride, which so basely entertained them.

Hither also we may referre those Locked and Close men, who even to their friends are so refer­red, and keep every thing so secret, as if none were worthy, to whose Iudgement or Trust they might commit themselves.

Hitherto likewise are referred Acceptation of persons in equallity of merit with unequall re­spect, [Page 320] negligence of outward ceremony and beha viour▪ and generally what ever else may worke an opinion that we are undervalued.

The second branch of this first Fundamentall Cause was an Hindering of the projects and pur­poses of another, which is not only a Privative (as the former) but a Positive and Reall Injury, which includes that other, and addes unto it, as being not only a sleighting, but an assault upon us; no [...] an Opinion only, but an Expression of our weak­nesse; a course so much the more likely to insenc [...] nature, and make it swell, by how much violent and opposition, is more sensible in motion than in rest. So that these two former Injuries, I thinke I may well compare to a Banke, and to a Bridge, or some other stops to a River in his course: Where­of the former doth Confine the River, and not Op pose it, as not hindring it in its direct and naturall motion (which it rather helpeth by more uniting the parts) but only in a motion Laterall and indi­rect, which nature intended not; and therefore herein we see not any manifest fretting and noise, but only a secret swelling and rising of the water, which breaks not into outrage and violence: But the Latter resisting the naturall course of the streame in its owne Chanell, and standing direct­ly crosse, where the Nature should passe, makes it, not only in time to overswell on all sides, but in the meane time works in it great tumult & noise.

Sp [...]mens, & fervens, & ab Obice Savior ibit.
It foames and boyles, and with a raging force,
Fights with all Obstacles, that stop its course.

So of these two Degrees of Contempt in An­ger▪ the former as being onely a Confining and Li­miting Contempt, which shuts up a mans worth within too narrow and strait a judgement, works indeed a secret swelling of the Heart with Indig­nation at the conceipt of such disesteem; but this breaks not out into that clamour (as S. Paul cals it) that noise of Anger, as the other doth, which a [...]iseth out of a direct opposition against our counsels or actions.

Vnto which opposition may be reduced all manner of injurious proceeding, which tends to the prejudice and disappointing of any mansQuem ego cre­do manibus. pedibu [...]q, [...] omnia [...] ma­ [...]is i [...] ad [...]o nisi ut inc [...]mmodet quam, &c. [...]. A [...]d. Act. 1 S [...]. 1. ends; whether it be by closenes and undermining, as cheats and couzenages in the preventing of lawfull, or by other politicke wisedome in hinde­ring unlawfull ends; or whether by open and pro­sessed Opposition, as in matters of Emulation, Competition, Commodity, and the like; or lastly, whether it be such as takes notice, and discovers ends which desired to be undiscerned. And there­fore Tacitus reckoning the ambiguous and closeAnnal l. 1. speeches of the Emperour Tiberius, sayes that it was Vnicus Patrum metus si intelligere viderentar, the Senate seared nothing more than to discover that they understood him; which is the same with his judgement after: Eò acriùs accepit recludi quae premeret, nothing did more exasperate him than to [Page 323] see those things taken notice of, which he desired to suppresse and dissemble. Both which were true in Scaur [...]s; one of the Senatours, who adventuring to collect Tiberius his willingnesse of accepting the Empire, in that he did not sorbid by his Tri­bunitiall Authority the relation thereof by the Consuls, did thereby procure his utter and jmpla­cable hatred.

But of all Contempts, the last of the three is greatest; that I meane, which immediately vio­lates our Reputation and Good name; because it is a derivative and spreading injury; not only disho­nouring a man in private and reserved opi­nion, but in the eyes and Eares of the World; nor only making him odious in his life, but in his me­mory. As there is in a man a double Desire▪ the one of Perfecting; the other of Perpetuating him­selfe: which two answer to that double honour of our creation, which we lost in our first Father; the honour of Integrity in Goodnesse; and the honour of Immunity from Corruption: So there may bee from the violation of these sundry degrees of An­ger, or any other burthensome Passion wrought in us. But when in injury we find them both assaul­ted, and not only our parts and persons (which be­long to our perfection) privily undervalued; but our name and memory (which belong to our pre­preservation) tainted likewise, we cannot but be so much the more insenced, by how much perpetu­ity accumelates, either to weaknes or perfection: But of this Fundamentall cause of anger enough.

CHAP. XXXI. Of other Causes of Anger: first in regard of him that suffers wrong: Excellency, Weaknesse, strong Desires, Suspition. Next in regard of him who doth it; Basenesse, Impudence, Neerenesse, Freedome of Speech, Contention, Ability. The Effects of Anger, the Immutation of the Body, im­pulsion of Reason, Expedition, Precipi­tance. Rules for the moderating of this Passion.

THose which follow, are more Accidentall: whereof some may be considered ex parte Pa­tientis, on the part of him that suffers; and some ex parte In­ferentis Injuriam, on the part of him that doth the Injury. Touching the patient or subject of an Injury, there are three Qualifications, which may make him more inclinable to Anger, upon supposition of the Fundamentall Cause, Contempt: and the [...] first of these is Excellency, whether Inward from Nature, or Accidentall from Fortune: For hereby men are made more jealous of their Credit, and impatient of Abuse, as well perceiving that all Injury implies some degree both of Impotency in [Page 324] the Patient, and of Excellency (at least conceited) in the Agent. As Aristotle speaks, [...],Rhet. l. 2, [...]. [...] that Injurious men are commonly highly con­ceited of their owne Excellency, which cannot well stand with the height and distance of that minde which is possessed with his owne good opinion ▪ and this cause the Poet intimates in those words▪

—Manet altâ mente repôstum,
Anead. 1.
Iudicium Paridis, Spretae (que) injuria formae.
A deep and lasting Discontent is bred
To see their Beauties undervalued
By a weake wanton Iudgement.

It wrought a deep Indignation in the Minds of Power and Wisedome to see a weake and wanton Iudgement give Beauty the precedence in their Emulation. Which undervaluing of worth, how much it is able to possesse a man with Griefe and Fury: the one example of Achitophel alone may discover, who upon the rejection of his counsell, when he was too low to revenge himselfe on Absa­lon, executed his Anger on his owne necke.

The second Qualification of the subject is Weaknesse and De [...]ect, when the mind finds it selfe assaulted in those things, wherein it is most of all Deficient: which Aristotle hath observed, when he tels us, that [...]. R [...]. l 2. [...] [...] [...]. [...]. [...] l 22. c 14. [...]. D [...] [...]. [...]. Idyll. 1. Sicke men, Poore men and Lovers are commonly most subject to this Passion: It being as great a paine, and a greater contempt to [...]ub and provoke an old wound, than to make a [Page 325] new. That injury which proceeds against men ofOmnes quibus res lunt, minus secundae, magis [...], ne [...]cio quo modo [...] ad [...] omnia accipi­ [...] [...] prop­ [...] s [...] [...] impo­ [...] [...] se s [...] ­per credunt n [...]gligi. T [...]r▪ Adolph. Act. 4. S [...]. 3. [...] inter se quam pro levi­bus noxij [...] i [...]a [...]? qua propt [...]r? quia caim qui cos guberuat [...] insirmum [...]. Ide. He­cyr. Act. 3 5 c. 1.—. Minuti semper, & in­ [...] est animi exigui (que) vo­luptas ultio. Inv. n. Sat. 13. Iracundiores sunt Incolumi­bus languidi saemina mari­bus, &c. A [...]m. Mar. lib. 27. Vi [...]. Causia. de [...]. l. 8. [...] 29. [...]. [...]. Sophoc. Ajax. Sen de [...]. l. 2. c. 21. high and eminent quality, cannot possibly pierce so deep as that which is exercised upon open and naked weaknesse: because the former proceeds only from strife and emulation; but the other from insultation and pride: the one is only a dis­esteem; but the other a contumely and exproba­tion: the one is a conflict of judgements, but the other a conflict of passions; and therefore likely to be the greater. For a neglect of worth and good parts (unlesse, as sometimes it falleth out, it pro­ceeds from Basenesse and Ignorance) is an injury from Worth also: but a Neglect, and despising men already downe, is an injury from stomacke and height of mind; wherein the party offended cannot labour so much to cleere it selfe from the Imputation, as to revenge it selfe for it.

Another reason why Weaknesse the better dispo­seth a man to Anger, may be, because such men are most Tender to feele an injury, most Suspitious to feare it, and most Interpreting to over-judge it. All which being circumstances of aggravation to increase a wrong, are likewise good means to adde degrees and heat unto our Passion.

Lastly, to give a reason of both these two for­mer causes together, it may be a Disappointment and Frustrating of Expectation: For men of emi­nency and worth, expect rather Approbation and Imitation than Contempt. And men weake and defective, expect Compassion to cover, and not Pride to mocke, and so double their wounds: and both these are in some sort debts of Nature, [Page 306] it being the Law of Reason to honour Merit, as it is the Law of Mercy to cover Nakednesse: and for both I am sure it is the Law of Charity, as not to vaunt or be puffed up in our selves: so nei­ther to rejoyce or thinke evill of another: and we may well conceive Anger will be strong, when it thinks it selfe lawfull.

Vnto this particular of Weaknesse wee may also reduce that which the Grammatian hath obser­ved on Virgil, Plus Irarum advenit, cum in manus non potest venire, cui irascimur. Anger is increased when it cannot reach the thing with which it is angry. And therefore the chaining up of Woolves and Mastives enrageth them, because it restraineth them; which the Poet hath excellently described. [...]. [...].

Ac veluti pleno Lupus iusidiatis evili,
Cum fremit ad caulos, ventos perpessus & imbres
Nocte super media: tuti sub matribus agni
Balatum exercent. Ille asper & improbus irâ
Savit in absentes, collecta fatig at edendi
Ex longo rabies, & siccae sanguine fauces.
Haud aliter Rutilo muros & castra tuenti
Ignescunt Ira, & durus dolor ossibus ardet.
As a fierce woolfe with winds, storms, midnight, whet
When in close solds the secure lambs do bleat,
Barks at his absent prey with the more Ire:
When rag'd and deceiv'd Hunger doth him tyre.
So Rutilus seeing his foes all safe,
Doth vex and boyle with the more burning chase.

[Page 307]For it is a great torment to an Enemy, when heVid. Pl [...]t. d [...] capiend. ex host. utilitat. can finde no in-let nor advantage against him, whom he hates.

Another cause of Anger may be strong Desires: [...]. Lucian. For alwaies vaster and more exact our desires are, it is so much the harder for them to be pleased or satisfied. And therefore as the Philosopher notes, Luxurious men are usually transported with An­ger,R [...]et. l. 10. because men love not to be stopped in their pleasures: and hence as Plutarch observes, men areDe Ira. lib. usually most angry there, where their desires are most conversant: as a Country-man with his Bay­liffe; or an Epicure with his Cooke; or a Lover with his Corrivall, because all these crosse men in that which they most love. Now strength when it is opposed, is collected and gathered into the more excesse; as we see in Winds or Rivers, when they meet with any thing which crosseth their full passage.

The last Qualification of the Subject, whereby he is made more Inclinable to this Passion, is a suspitious, apprehensive, and interpreting fancy, ready to pick out injury where it cannot be justly found; and (that its Anger may be imployed) to frame occasions unto it selfe. And therefore tis wise advise of Seneca, Non vis esse Iracundus? ne sis S [...]n. de Ir [...]. l. 3. c. 11. Curiosus. He which is too wise in his judgement on other mens Errours, will be easily too foolish in the nourishing of his owne Passion: and its commonly seen in matters of censure and suspiti­on, the more sight and reason goes out, the lesse useth to abide within. Now is it hard for a man, [Page 328] if he be peremptorily possessed with this opinion; yet he is a common subject of others contempt, to find out, either in defects of Nature, or rudenes of custome, habit, education, temper, humour or the like, some probable ground or other for excep­tion; which yet when it is further inquired into, will prove rather strangenesse than injury.

And this is generally a Corruption of Anger▪ First, because it is hereby oftentimes unjust, ei­ther in fastning it selfe there where it was justly neglected: for we may ever observe that Suspiti­on proceeds from Guilt, and none are more jea­lous of being neglected than those that deserve it: as it is observed of some reproachfull speeches, which a Senatour was accused to have uttered a­gainst the honour of Tiberius: Quia ver a erant dicta credebantur. His suspitious mind was persuaded that they had been spoken, because hee was con­scious that they had been acted; and therefore (as was before noted) it was the custome under such men to avoid all manner of Curiosities, and search into things done by them, which might easily be subject unto sinister judgement; and ra­ther to affect Ignorance with Security, than to be ruined with wisedome. And next it is corrupt, because it is rash and hasly, being led by a halfe judgement, the worst guide to a headlong and blind Passion.

The next degree of causes is of those which qualifie the Agent, or him that worketh the inju­ry, and there may be amongst many other, which cannot be reckoned, these generall ones.

[Page 329]First Basenesse, which works a double cause of Anger: One for an injury of Omission, in negle­cting those respects which are required in men of meane and inferiour ranke towards their superi­ours: Another for a positive enquiry in the evill exercised against them. And many times the for­mer alone is a cause of Anger, without the later: For this distance of persons doth quite alter the nature of our Actions, insomuch that those de­meanors, which are commendable and plausible toward our equals, are rude and irreverend toward those that are above us: and this is that which makes the wrath of God in the Scripture to bee set out so terrible unto us: because of the infinite distance between the Vnmeasurable Glory of the Maker of the World, and the basenesse of sinners; and therefore the comparison which useth to bee made for the defence of Veniall sinnes, that it is altogether unlikely that God, infinitely more merciful than men, should yet be offended at that which a mans neighbour would pardon him for, as a foolish angry word, or the stealing of a Far­thing, or the like, is without reason: because be­tween man and man there is a Community both in nature and weaknesse; and therefore,

Ha [...]c veniam, petimu [...] (que) damus (que) vicissim.
Because we both our Errours have,
We pardon give, and pardon crave.

But it is an Argument of infinite Insolence [Page 311] in a vile Creature for feeding it own Corruption and selfe-love in a matter of no value to neglect one command of him, who by another is able to command him into Hell, or into nothing.

The next Quality in the Injurer, which may raise this Passion is Impudence, either in words or carriage. And the reasons hereof may be:

First, because as Aristotle observes, all Impu­dence is joyned with some Contempt, which is the Fundamentall and Essentiall Cause of An­ger.

Secondly, because all Impudence is bold, stiffe and contentious, which are all incitements to this Passion. For as Shame being a Degree of Feare works an acknowledgement of our owne weaknesse; and therefore a submission to the po­wer [...]. l. 2 c. 3. Corpora mag­ [...] satis est prostrare Leo [...]l. [...] num [...]inem, cum ja­c [...] host is [...]al▪ [...] Ovid. Trist. li [...]. 3. Eleg. 5. wee have provoked, which as Aristotle ob­serves) procureth from beasts themselves lenity and mercy: So Impudence in all other things being contrary to it, must likewise produce a con­trary Effect.

Thirdly, those things which we Impudently do, we do willingly likewise. And therefore wee shall observe in the Scripture how reigning sins that is, those which are done with greedine [...]se of the appetite, and full consent of the will, are set forth by the names of Stubbornnesse, Rebellion, whorish Fore-head, Brasse, and Yron. Now no­thing doth more aggravate a wrong then this, that it proceeded from the will of man. And the rea­sons are,

First, because a mans Power is in his Will▪ but [Page 310] Passions and other blind Agents, when they work ungoverned, are our Imperfections, and not our Power; and therefore the easier borne withall.

Secondly, to a Plenary, Spontaneous Action, (such as I take most of Impudence to be) there are required Antecedenter, Deliberation, Approba­tion, and Assent▪ and Consequenter▪ Resolution, Per­severance, and Constancy. All which, as they take away the two principall conditions required unto Lenity; Consession and Repentance: so likewise doe they adde much to the weight of an injury, because an actition which is thus exercised, is a worke of the whole Man, and imployes a perfect consent thereunto: so a perfect and compleat en mity toward the person offendeth thereby. Wher­as others are but the wrongs of some part, such as are of those of the wil, led by an ignorant; or those of Passion, led by a traduced Vnderstanding; and they too not of a part regular, but of an Vnjoin­ted and Paralyticke part, which followes not the motion of a stayed reason; and therefore as they proceed from more disorder in our selves, so doe they worke lesse in the party offended.

Another thing which may raise and nourish this Passion, is any degree of neer Relation between the parties; whether it be Naturall by Consan­guinity; or Morall, by Society, Liberality, or any [...]. de [...]. l. 2 c. 31. other friendship. For as it is prodigious in the Body Naturall to see one member wrong and pro­voke another: so in Vnions Civill or Morall, it is strangely offensive to make a divulsion. There­fore we are more angry for the neglect offered us [Page 332] by friends, or those of whom we have well deser­ved, than by enemies or Iob. 19 19. Z [...]b. 13. 6. Psal. 41. 9. 55. 12. strangers. No wounds go so deep as those we receive in the house of our friend.

And the reason why this difference between men neerly referring each other should worke a greater Anger between them, is: First, because herein we may finde that which before I observed as a furtherance to this Passion, Disappointment, and frustrating of Expectation: For in this case, we expect Sympathy & not Division. Secondly, because all Anger is a kind of dis-joyning or Di­vulsion of things before joyned: there therefore, where is the greatest Vnion, must needs bee the strongest and most violent separation; as in the Body, the Divulsion of Soule is more horrible than of an Arme, or some other member; because the one is an Essentiall, the other onely an Inte­grall Vnion: and so it is with those who are by bloud or friendship made one; as the dividing of them is more strange and violent, so doth it pro­duce a stronger Passion.

Another cause of this Passion in respect of the Injurer, may be a too great Freedome and indis­creet use of speech; especially if it be in way of correction and rebuke: For as Solomons speech is true, Mollis responsio frangit Iram, a soft answer pa­cifies wrath: so on the contrary it is true likewise, Dura Correptio unit Iram; that an harsh rebuke knits it. Anger is by nothing more nourished than by much speaking, though not in the par [...]y that speaketh; because Speech is to Anger, like Teares [Page 313] to Griefe, a spending and venting of it, yet al­wayes in another, unto whom we minister farther matter of offence. To which purpose, is that speech of Syracides. Strive not with a man that is full of tongue, and heape not wood upon his fire.

Another Cause, which I shall observe is con­tention and Difference, whether it be in Opini­ons or in Inclinations: because this must needs be ever joyned with some undervaluing of ano­ther mans choice and judgement; which if it be not seasoned with much sobriety, will easily induce a man to beleeve, that it proceeds not from Zeale to Truth, but from a humour of Op­position. Wherewith many men are so farre pos­sessed, that one must hardly dare to speake the truth in their company for feare of endangering it and them. Like Chry [...]ippus in Laertius, who used to boast that hee often wanted Opinions, but those once gotten, he never wanted Arguments and Sophismes to defend them.

The last cause which I shall note of this Pas­sion is in him, who offends us, his very Abilities, when we see them neglected: for this provokes to more displeasure, then naked impotency. Weaknesse, when it miscarries, is the object of Pitty: but strength, when it miscarries, is the object of Anger.

—— [...]
Illiad. 117.
[...]
[...]
I should not blame unworthy and base spirits
To sl [...]g and shrinke from Battle: but for merits
So to forget themselves, for you to be
Vnlike the men you are, What man can see
Such weaknesse, and not wonder, chide, debate;
Till you your selves doe your owne Errours hate.

Vnto all these we might adde some others which the Philosopher toucheth, as neglect of our Calamities, or rejoyeing at them, or divulging [...] ▪ Vid. quae de hac [...] [...] Nun [...]ius apud [...]. An [...]g. them, or bringing readily the report of them un­to us, receiving the report of them with pleasure. Or lastly, representing the Signes which may bring into minde the memory of any injuries done us. As the Levite sent the parts of his A­bused Concubine up and downe unto the Tribes of Israel to move them unto Indignation. So [...]. lib 44. Antony in the funerall Oration upon Iulius Cae­sar produced his robe stained with the blood which Brutus and Cassius had shed, to worke ad [...] ­testation of that fault in the people.

Now concerning all these causes together (be­cause it would be two tedious to gather particu­lar circumstances of dignity and corruption from all of them) we are to conclude that Anger, as it ariseth from any of them, is then onely Re­gular and Iust, when it keepes these conditions.

I First, that it still observe proportion and conformity to the rules of Love: otherwise it i [...] not Ira in Delictum, but Ira in fratrem not agains [...] the Crime but the person of my brother: [...] [Page 315] kn [...]w the nature of this passion is to be Transient to goe out from us on our brother and reforme him: not Immanent to worke upon our selves and deforme us: I meane by soyling the habite of Charity, which ought alwayes to remaine in­violate.

2 Secondly, that it keepe likewise due pro­portion unto judgement, and that unto a true judgement, and a whole judgement; otherwise it is not onely to be Angry with our brother, but, which is farther, to be angry with him unadvised­ly. Iudgement then must be true first, that is, cleare, setled, and untransported; and that like­wise in two actions; in the Act of Interpreta­tion, which reacheth unto the Injurie; and in the Act of Direction or Government, which reach­eth unto the Passion.

3 And next it must be a whole judgement: and that in both the former. It must judge fully of the nature and circumstances of the injury, which ever receives it degrees of Intention or re­mission, not from the matter of the Act, but from some particular Qualifications and Circumstan­ces joyned thereunto.

Secondly, it must judge fully of the Act of Passion, not onely in Informing, quod sit, that Re­paration of our selves is lawfull; but [...] too, in the manner and forme how to undertake it. Because as Passion, being without Reason inIra de Causa [...] Iracundia de vitio. [...]. it selfe, wants the tongue of judgement to inform it what to do; So, being blinde, it wants the hand of judgement to leade it in the doing of it: and [Page 316] this I take to be the proper way of governing this Passion. But that which was once prescribed by Athenodorus the Philosopher, unto Augustus to re­peateD [...]d m [...] [...] [...] Lit. [...] [...] [...] a lu­ [...]andi [...] cobibentes p [...]ius dom [...] ex [...]. Iube­bant, ut esset deliberandi spatium. Vid. [...] lut. qu. Rom. q. 28. Vid. l'lutarch. [...] over the Alphabet between the Passion and the Revenge, is too boyish and slight, as diverting the minde from the occasion to some other trifle, which is onely to cozen and not to conquer ou [...] distemper; and therefore though it may for a time allay it, yet this is but as the cures of Empe­ricks, which give present ease, but search not into the roote, nor leave such [...]n habit within, as shall in after occasions limit the unrulinesse of such distempers, like those odours which use to raise men out of a fit of the falling sicknesse, but doe not all cure them of the disease.

Now to speake a word or two of the Effects of this Passion: they are such as are wrought, ei­ther in our selves or others. Concerning the for­mer, they are either outward effects, which [...]each to our bodies, or inward, which reflect upon Rea­son.

Those on the body are clamour (as Saint Paul cals it) in the Tongue, Tumour and Inflamma­tion in the Heart▪ Fire in the Eyes, and Fierce­nesse and Palenesse in the Countenance, and a sensible alteration in the whole man. The use or deformity of all which depend upon the subor­dination of Passion unto Reason, or Dominion over it. For if it be Governed and obedient, there is an excellent use of these alterations in the body (which will not then be permitted to be excessive) namely the testification of our just [Page 317] displeasures at an offence received, and the inli­vening or sharpning of us (if occasion require to the prosecution of further lawfull redresse; forVid. ene [...]. de [...]ra lib. 2. c. 35. Vos qu [...] si [...]edia specu­l [...]m spectetis in Irá. Cognoscat sa­ciem vix satis [...] [...]uam O [...]id. de Arte Amandl. lib. 3. Vid. Plutarch. Plumbea [...] iras [...] Plaut. Ethic. lib. 7. though I would not have a man in his passion suffer a Metamorphosis, and turne his face into a torment punishing himselfe as much with De­formity, as his adversary with feare, yet neither can I like that close and dissembled, that poli­tique and stomacke Anger, which cunningly shrowds it selfe under a calm and serene counte­nance; which being unnaturall to this passion (whose property it is, Non insidiari sed palàm agere, not to worke by way of Ambush and Stra­tagem, but visibly) will quickly degenerate into Malice and Rancour.

The Inward Effect of this Passion, is an Exci­tation of Reason; to judge of the wrong and meanes of Redresse, which is then Regular, when it is done Ministereally and by way of service to the whole; but most corrupt and dangerous, when it is done by prepossession, transporting, confounding, or any other way tainting of Rea­son; which is to make it a party rather then a Iudge.

[...]
Which makes sometimes a Wise man breake
Into Distempers wilde and weake.

In which ill office there is not any Passion more busie and fruitfull then this of Anger by reason of it's suddennesse, and of it's violence: both which are strong meanes to smother or [Page 318] divert Reason, as we see in Tiberius himselfe, who though a man of a close and sad judgement, and of most reserved Passions (insomuch as he lived in them and nourished them a long time before either their working or discovery) yet when he was provoked by Agrippina, to a more violent Anger then usuall, his Passion we see for the time altered his nature. Et veram occulti pectoris voc [...]m elicuit, Num ide [...] l [...]deretur, quia non regnaret. He brake forth into words, strange and unusuall from so close a disposition; to wit, Whether she were wronged because she did not reigne? which is Tacitus his observation upon the Anger of that man.

The last Effect is expedition and Dexterity inexecuting those means which Reason judgeth needfull for satisfying our selves against the per­sonVires inijcit ad pericula [...]. [...]. lib. 3. [...] 11. [...]. Vid. Cal. Rh [...]d. l. 1 [...]. c. 5 3. l. 7 that hath offended us, wherein it's assistance, while it is Regular, is of excellent use in mans actions, because it makes bold and resolute. But here one maine corruption is to be avoided, Pre­cipitancy and impatience of Delay or Atten­dance on the determination of right reason▪ which makes it commonly runne away with an halfe or a broken judgement. In which respect Aristle in his Ethicks very elegantly compares it to a hasty servant, that goes away posting with halfe his errand and to Dogs, wch, as soon as ever they heare a noise, barke presently before they know whether it be a stranger at the doore, or no [...] so Anger attends Reason thus long, till it receive warrant for the justnes of seeking redresse, & then [Page 319] suddenly hastens away without any further liste­ning to the rules of Decorum and Iustice, which it should alwayes observe in the prosecution there­of: Lest while it is too intent on his owne right, it fall in that extreame which it pretendeth to revenge, the wronging of another.

There is not any Passion which standeth more in need of Moderation then this doth, both be­cause it is one of the frequentest which we are troubled with, and the most unruly, as that which can over-beare the rest, and, of all other, hath the least recourse to [...]. Thucyd. lib. 2. Reason, being hasty, Impetu­ous, full of Desires, Griefe, Selfe-love, Impati­ence, which spareth no Plutarch. [...]. Sen. de Ira lib. 3. cap. [...]. & [...]. persons, friends or [...]oes, no things, animate or Ip [...] [...] qui [...] [...] [...]m. [...] S [...]t. 10. Pl [...]. de Ira. in animate, when they fit not our fancy. And therefore Donat & Coel. Rhod. l. 12 c. 53. Grammarians tell us that it hath its name Ira from Ire, because a man in his Anger usually goeth away from his Reason, and as his Anger slackens, he is said, ad se redire, to returne again unto himselfe. And there­fore those men in whom Reason is most predo­minant, are least transported by this Affection, and most often displeased with themselves for it. It was a strange commendation given to So crat. lib. 7. c. 22. Theodosius Iunior, that never any man saw him Angry; And such a power had Plutarch. in Lyc. Lycurg [...] over himselfe, that when an insolent young [...]n had done him no lesse injury then the striking out of one of his Eyes, by lenity and mansu [...]tude hee convinced and gained him. Plut. [...]n Pe­ricle. And Pericles that great Statesman and Oratour of Greece, being all the day reviled by a [...] Impure companion, [Page 320] commanded his servant at night to light him home unto his houseSenec. de Ira lib. 3. c. 12 & 38. Plut. de serd num: vidi [...]at. nothing more obvious then Examples of this kinde.

That we may therefore so ma [...]nage this Passi­on as to be Angry but not sinne, it will be requisite▪

1 To let it have an Eye upward, as Moses did, whonever expressed any other Anger that wee read of but zealous, and Religious, when the in­jury directly aimed at God and his honour. It is very improbable that any thing will move too fast upward.

2 To convert it Inward into a selfe-displi­cencySicut aquil [...] es [...] inter a [...] bulandum un­gu [...] intro [...]. Vid. Plu. de [...]u [...] S [...]n. de. [...]ra, l [...]b. 2. cap. 2 [...]. [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] Ir [...] l. 3. [...] [...]. and severity towards our owne Errours, for the more acquainted any man is with him­selfe, the lesse matter he will finde of Anger with other men, as having so much both to doe, and to blame at home. Anger ever [...]riseth from the Value which wee set upon our selves, which will ever then be most modest, when we take of it the fullest view.

3 Follow it not too Close, joyn not too soon, not too hastily with it, though it may be used sometimes, it must never be incouraged, being o­ver-bold and forward of it selfe. And therefore as many drugges must be prepared before wee may [...] to use them; so we must take heed of disp [...]ing this affection without its due cor­rective [...] Plutarch de And. poe [...]u. must first be schooled before it be im­ployed, as men bridle their horses before they ride them. It is not good drinking in muddy water so soone as it is stirred, give it time to sub­side and settle.

[Page 321]4 Keepe it not long, it is the Spawne of Malice and Contention, and time will hatch it. It is a Corroding thing which will fret and staine the Vessell in which it is kept. Let not the Sunne goe downe upon it, 'tis ill being in the darke with so bad a Leader. It may passe through the heart of a wise man, but it Resteth onely in the b [...]some of Fooles.

5 Remove the Occasions of it, withdraw Fuell from so catching a Flame. They say of Turpentine, and some other like things. That they will draw and sucke Fire unto them. Certainely of all Fire there is none so ductile, so sequacious and obsequious, as this of Wr [...]th. It was not ill done therefore ofPl [...], A [...]opt. S [...]. de [...]ra lib. 3. c. 40. C [...]. [...]od. l. 12▪ [...]. 52. C [...]tys and Augustus, To cause those curious Vessels to be broken of purpose, which ha­ving beene accidentally broken might have made [...] breach likewise upon the dis [...]retion of their owners.

6 Give not an easie Eare to Reports▪ nor [...] d [...] I [...]a [...] [...]. 22 23, 2 [...] an Easie entertainement to suspicio [...]s, bee not greedy to know who or wherein another hath wrong'd thee. That which wee are desirous to know, or apt to beleeve, wee shall be the more ready to revenge. Curiosity and [...]dulity, Plu [...]. in Alex. & l. curiosit. [...] Dion. C [...]ss. l. 41. are the Handmaides unto Passion. Alexan­der would not see the woman after [...]hom he might have Lusted▪ Nor Casar search Pom­peyes Cabinet, l [...]st he should find new matters of Revenge. He chose rather to make a Fire of them on his Hearth, then in his Heart. In­ju [...]ies [Page 322] unknowne doe many times the lesse hurt; when I have found them, I then begin to feele them, and suffer more from mine owne discovery then from mine enemies attempt.

7 Bee Candid in Interpreting the thing [...] wherein thou sufferest. Many times the glasse through which I looke, makes that seeme formidable, and the wave, that crooked, which in it selfe was beautifull and straight. Hap­ly thou art Angry with that which could not intend to hurt thee, Thy Booke, thy Penne, the stone at which thou stumblest, the windeS [...]. d [...] Ira lib. 2. c, 26. or raine that beates upon thee: bee Angry gaine, but with thy selfe, who art either so bold as to be Angry with GOD, or so foolish, as to be Angry with nothing. Thou art dis­pleased at a Childish or an Ignorant miscar­riage, Call it not Injury but Imprudence, and then pitty it. Thou art Angry with Coun­sell, Reproofe, Discipline; why doest thou not as well breake the Glasse in which thy Physitian Ministreth a potion unto thee. Bee Angry with thy sinne, and thou wilt love him that takes it from thee. Is hee that ad­viseth thee thy Superiour? Thine Anger is undutifull, is hee thy friend, thine Anger is ungratefull.

8 Give Injuries a New Name, and that will worke a new Affection. In blinde Agents call it Chance▪ in weake Persons, Infirmity, In simple, Ignorance, in wise Counsell, in Su­periours, [Page 323] Discipline, In equals, Familiarity' in Inferious, Confidence, where there is no other construction to be made, doe as Ioseph and David did, call it Providence, and see what God sayes to thee by it. Get a mindeMinimas re­rum discordia turbat pac [...]m su [...] [...] [...]enent Lucan Vid. Sen. l. 4. c. 33. S [...]n. de Ira l. 2. c. 25. 26. conversant with high and noble things, the more heavenly, the lesse Tempestuous.

9 Be not Idle, Sluggish, Luxurious, wee are never more apt to bee Angry, then when we are sleepy or greedy. Weake resolutions and strong Desires are sensible of the least ex­a [...]peration, as an empty ship of the smallest Tempest.

Againe be not [...]ver-busie neither▪ That man can hardly bee master of his Passion that is not master of his imployments. A minde ever burdened, like a Bow alwayes bent must needes grow impotent, and weary, the fittest preparations to this distemper. When a mans businesse doth not poise, but presse him, there will ever bee something either undone or ill-done, and so still matter of Vexation. And therefore our Mindes as our VesselsPlutarch. [...] [...] Sen [...]. l. 3. c. 6. Sen. de Ira l. 3. cap. 16. [...]. Sopb. Autig. Plut. Sympos. [...]. 4. q [...], 2. must bee unloaded, if they would not have a Tempest hurt them.

Lastly, wrastle not with that which pinch­eth thee. If it bee strong it will hurt, if cunning, it will hamper and entangle thee. Hee that strives with his burden makes it heavier. That Tempest breakes not the stalkes of Corne, which rends asunder the armes [Page 324] of an Oake, the one yeelds, the other with­stands it. An humble weaknesse is safer from injury, then a stubborne strength.

I have now done with the Passions of the Minde. And briefly proceede to those Ho­nours and Dignities of the Soule of Man which belong unto it in a more abstracted Consi­deration.

CHAP. XXXII. Of the Originall of the Reasonable Soule, whe­ther it be immediatly Created and Infused, or derived by Seminall Traduction from the Parents. Of the Derivation of Originall sinne.

THe dignity of Man in respect of his Soule alone, may be gathered from a consideration either of the whole, or of the par [...]s therof. Cōcerning the whole, we shall consider two things; Its Originall, and its Nature. Concerning the Originall of the Soule, divers men have diversly thought; for, to let passe the Opinion ofPhila [...]ri de Haeres. Sel [...]uci, &c. Seleucus, who affirmed that it was educed out of the Earth, and that [...] Tract. ad Me­nam contra Orig. Hieron. Epist. ad M [...] ­cell. & [...] Theo­phyl. Alex. Ep. Pasc. [...]. Ana­sta [...]. [...] Anagog. con­temp. lib. 11. of Origin and the Plato [...]ists who say that the Soules of men were long agoe created, and after detruded into the Body as into a Prison: There are three Opi­nions touching this question. The first of those who affirm the Traduction of the Soule by genera­ [...], some of which so affirm because they judged [...] a Corporeall substance, as did Aug. de [...]. 86. cp. 157 de Gen. ad lit. l. 10. c. 25. Tertull. de [...] c. 5. 6. 7. 22. 25. 27. Tertullian. Others because they beleeved that one spirit might as easily proceed from another, as one fire or light be kindled by another: as Hieron. Epist. ad Marcelli­ [...]um. [...] de [...] [...] l. 2. Iucife­rian apud Aug. [...]. 81. Apollinarius, Nemesi­ [...], and divers in the Westerne Churches, as St. Hierome witnesseth. The second, of those who deby the naturall Traduction, and say that the [Page 392] Soule is [...] [...]ion infused into Bodies, orga­niz'd and praedisposed to receive them; of which Opinion among the Ancients were Hieron. cp. [...]d [...]am. contra Io­an▪ Hi [...]us. St. Hierom, Hilar. de Trin. l. 10. Hilarie, Ambros. de Noah & Arc [...]. c. 4. Ambrose, Lactant. de [...]. Hom. c. [...]. Lactantius, Theod. de cu­rand [...]gr. affect. ser. 4. Theodoret. Aeneas Gaz. in su [...] [...]. Ae­neas Gaz [...]us, and of the moderne Writers the ma­jor part. The third is of those who doe haesitare, stick betweene both, and dare affirme nothing certaine on either side, which is the moderation of Aug [...]p. 7. 18. 157. & [...]. l. 1 c. 1. de Gen. ad li [...]. 10. & de [...]. St. Augustine and Gregory Greg. l. 7. cp. 53. the great, who af­firme that this is a question incomprehensible, and unsolvable in this life. Now the only rea­son which caused St. Austin herein to haesitate, seemeth to have been the difficulty of traducing Originall sinne from the Parents to the Children. For saith he (writing unto St. Hierome touching the Creation of the Soule) If this Opinion doe not oppugne that most fundamentall faith of Ori­ginall sinne, let it then be mine, but if it doe op­pugne it, let it not be thine.

Now since that Opinion which denieth the Traduction, seemeth most agreeable to the spiritu­all substance of the soule, I shall here produce some few reasons for the Creation, and solve an argument or two alledg'd for the Traduction of the Soule, reserving notwithstanding unto my selfe, and others, the liberty and modesty of St. Austins haesitation, which also I finde allowedEccles. 11. 5. by the Holy Ghost himselfe.

Two things there are of certainty in this point. 1. That the soule is not any corporeall Masse or substance measurable by quantity, or capable of substantiall augmentation. 2. That [Page 393] the Traduction of one thing out of another, doth connotate these two things, That the thing tra­duced doth derive Being from the other, as from its original principle; & that this derivation be not any other manner of way, but Ratione semi­ [...]ali, & per modum decisionis, by a seminall way, and the decision, seperation, or effluxion of sub­stance from the other: which things being laid, The Arguments against Traduction are these.

First, the testimonies of Holy Scripture, cal­ling God the Father of spirits, as our naturall Pa­rent the Father of our bodies, Iob 33. 4. Eccles. 12. 7. Esa 57. 16. Num. 16. 22. 27. 16. Heb. 12. 9. Zach. 12. 1. which though they doe not according to the judgement of St. Aug. conclude the point by infallible consequence, yet doe they much fa­vour the probability of this Opinion.

2. To have Being by Traduction, is, when the soule of the Child is derived from the soule of the Parent, by the meanes of Seed: but the Seed of the Parent cannot reach the Generation of the soule, both because the one is a Corpore­all, the other a Spirituall substance, uncapable of Augmentation, or Detriment. Now that which is spirituall, cannot be produced out of that which is corporeall: neither can any Seed be discinded or issue out from the soule, being substantia sim­ [...]lex, & impartibilis, a substance simple, and indi­visible.

3. That which is separable from the body, and can subsist and work without it, doth not depend in its Being or making upon it; for if by the Gene­ration [Page 394] of the Body the soule be generated, by the corruption of the Body it would be corrupted; for every thing that is generable, is corruptible. But the Soule can subsist and work without the Body; therefore it doth not from corporeall ge­neration derive its Being.

4. If the Soule be seminally traduced, it must he either from the body, or from the soule of the Parents▪ not from the Body, for it is impossible for that which is not a body, to be made out of that which is a Body, no cause being able to pro­duce an effect out of its owne spheare, and more noble than it selfe; not from the soule, because that being a spirituall and impartible substance, can therefore have nothing severed from it by way of substantiall seed unto the constitution of another soule.

5. If there be nothing taken from the Pa­rents, of which the soule is formed, then it is not traduced by naturall generation: but there is nothing taken from the Parents, by which the soule is formed; for then in all Abortions and miscarrying Conceptions, the seed of the Soule would perish, and by consequence the soule it selfe would be corruptible, as having its Origi­nall from corruptible seed. These and diversH [...]eron. ad Pam­mach. & in l. 32. Eccles. 12. Co [...]tr. Ruffiaum l. 2. c. 1. 2. & dialog▪ de Orig [...]n. Anim▪ inter [...]peracjus Tom. other the like arguments are used to confirme the doctrine touching the Creation of the Rea­sonable Soule. Unto which may be added the judgement and testimony of some of the fore­cited Fathers. St. Hierome telleth us that the Ori­ginall of the soule in mankinde is not as in other [Page 395] living creatures. Since as our Saviour speaketh, The Father worketh hitherto. And the Prophet Esat telleth us, That hee formeth the spirit of m [...]n within him, and fram [...]th the hearts of all men; as it is in the Psalmes. And so Lactamius (whom I doe won­der to finde numbred amongst the Authors that affirme the Traduction of the soule, by Ruffinus, and the Author of the Dialogue amongst the works of Hierome). It may be questioned (saith he) whether the soule be generated out of the Fa­ther, Mother, or both. Neither of all three is true; Because the seed of the Soule is not put in­to the Body by either, or both of these. A Body may be borne out of their Bodies, because some­thing may be out of both contributed; but a Soule cannot be borne out of their Soules, in as much as from so spirituall and incomprehensible a substance nothing can issue forth or be severed for that use. So also St. Hilary, The Soule ofHilar. de T [...]in. l▪ 10. & in p. 62▪ man is the work of God; the generation of the flesh is alwayes of the flesh. And againe, It is in­bred and an impress'd Beliefe in all; that our Soules have a divine Originall: And in like man­ner Theodoret, God (saith he) frameth the Bodies of living creatures out of Bodies subsisting be­fore; but the Soules, not of all creatures, but of Men only hee worketh [...] out of nothing that had beene before.

Against this Doctrine of the Soules Originall,At [...]ag. d [...] Re­s [...]r. G [...]d. de Eccles. dog. [...]. 23. The principall argument is drawn from the con­sideration of Originall sinne, and the propagation thereof, which alone was that which troubled [Page 396] and staggerd S. Augustine in this point. For if theAug. cp. 28. Soule be not naturally traduced, how should Originall sinne be derived from Adam unto it? And if it were not in the loynes of Adam, then neither did it sinne in his loynes; whereas the A­postle expresly telleth us, that by one Man sinne came into the world, and that in one all have sin­ned; and that not only by imputative participa­tion, but by naturall Propagation, deriving an in­haerent habituall pollution, which cleaveth in­separably to the soule of every man that en­treth into the world, and is the fruit of Adams loynes.

Unto which Argument to omit the different resolutions of other men touching the pollution of the Soule by the immediate contact of the flesh, and the Parents attinging the ultimate dis­position of the Body, upon which naturally fol­loweth the Union of the Soule, (God being plea­sed to work ordinarily according to the exigence of second causes, and not suffering any of them to be in vain for want of that concurrence, which he in the vertue of a first and supreame cause is to contribute unto them.) I shall set downe what I conceive to be the Truth in this point.

First then, it is most certaine that God did not implant Originall sinne, not take away Originall righteousnesse from Man, but man by his Praevari­cationAug. de [...]ivit. De [...]. l. 13. [...]. 14. and Fall did cast it away, and contract sin, and so derive a defiled nature to his posterity. For as Ma [...]arius excellently speaketh, Adam havingMa [...]ar. Ho. 1 [...]. transgressed, did lo [...] the pure pos [...]esion of his Nature.

[Page 397]Secondly, Originall injustice as it is a sinne, by the default and contraction of Man, so it is also a punishment by the ordination, and disposition of Divine Justice. It was mans sinne to cast awayAug. contr. Iul. l▪ 5. c▪ 3. the Image of God; but it is Gods just judgement (as hee hath that free dispensation of his owne Gifts) not to restore it againe in such manner as at first he gave it unto that nature which had so rejected and trampled on it.

Thirdly, In this Originall sinne, there are two things considerable, The Privation of that Righ­teousnesse, which ought to be in us; and the lust or Habituall concupiscence, which carrieth Nature unto inordinate motions. The Privation and want of Originall justice is meritoriously from Adam, who did voluntarily deprave, and reject that Ori­ginall rectitude which was put into him, which therefore God out of his most righteous and free disposition is pleased not to restore unto his Nature in his posterity againe. In the habituall lust are considerable these two things [...] The sinfull disorder of it, And [...] the Punish­ment of sinne by it. Consider it is as a Punish­ment of Adams first Praevarication; and so, though it be not efficiently from God, yet it falls under the Order of his Justice, who did most righte­ously forsake Adam, after his wilfull fall, and leave him in the Hand of his owne Counsell, to transmit unto us that Seminary of sinne which himselfe had contracted.

But if we consider it as a sinne, we then say that the immediate and proper cause of it, is lapsed nature [Page 398] whole and entire by Generation and Seminall Tra­duction derived upon us. But the Re [...]ter cause is that, from which wee receive and derive this Nature. Nature I say first fallen; for unto Nature Innocent belonged Originall Righteousnesse, and not Originall sinne.

2. Nature derived by ordinary generation as the fruit of the loynes, and of the womb. For though Christ had our Nature, yet hee had not our sinne.

3. Nature whole and entire. For neither part (as some conceive) is the Totall spring and fountain of this sinne. For it is improbable that any staine should be transfused from the Body to the Soul, as from the foule vessell to the cleane water put into it. The Body it selfe being not Soly and alone in it selfe corrupt and sinfull; else, all Ab­ortions and miscarrying conceptions should be subject to damnation. Nothing is the seat of sin which cannot be the seat of Death the wages of sinne.

Originall sinne therefore most probably see­meth to arise by Emanation, partiall in the parts, totall in the whole; from Mans Nature as guilty, forsaken, and accursed by God for the sinne of Adam. And from the parts not considered ab­solutely in themselves, but by vertue of their concurrence and Vnion, whereby both make up one compounded Nature. Though then the Soule be a partiall subject or seat of Originall sinne; yet wee have not our sinne and our soule from one Author; because sinne followes not [Page 399] the part, but the Nature whole and entire. And though we have not from our Parents Totum na­turae, yet we have totam naturam, wee have our whole nature, though not every part of our na­ture. Even as whole Christ was the Son of Mary, who therefore by vertue of the Communication of properties in Christ, is justly called [...], the Mother of God, against the Nestorians in the Councell of Chalcedon. Though in regard of his divine Nature, he was without beginning; & the reason is, because the integrity of Nature ariseth from the Vnion of the two parts together, which is perfected by Generation; so then wee say that Adam is the Originall, and meritorious cause. Our next Parents, the instrumentall and immediate cause of this sinne in us, not by way of Physicall Emission or Transmigration of sinne from them to us, but by secret contagion, as S. Augustine speaks.Contr. Iulian. l. 5. c. 14. For having in the Manner aforesaid from Adam by our Parents received a nature, most justly for­saken by God, and lying under the Guilt and Curse of the first praevarication, from this Na­ture thus derived, as guilty and accursed doth im­mediately and intimately flow Habituall pollu­tion. So then Habituall Concupiscence is from Adam alone meritoriously by reason of his first praevarication. From Adam by the mediation of our Parents seminally by naturall generation. And from Nature generated not as Nature, but as in Adam guilty, forsaken and accursed, by secret and ineffable Resultancy and Emanation. This is that which I conceive of this Great difficulty, not [Page 400] unmindfull in the meane time of that speech ofNihil peccato originals ad prae­dicandum noti­us, nihil ad in­telligendum se­cretius. Au [...]. dc morb. Eccles. cap. 22. S. Augustine, That there is nothing more certaine to be knowne, and yet nothing more secret to be understood than Originall sinne. For other Argu­ments to prove the Traduction of the Soul, they are not of such moment; And therefore I passe them by, and proceed to the consideration of the Soule in its Nature.

CHAP. XXXIII. Of the Image of God in the Reasonable soule, in regard of its simplicity, and spirituality.

COncerning the dignity of the soule in its nature and essence, Reason hath ad­ventured thus farre, to confesse thatMacrob de s [...]m­no Scip. p 1. c. 14 divine particu­la [...], Philo. the soule of man, is in some sort a spark and beame of divine brightnesse. And a greater and more infallible Oracle hath warranted that it was breathed into him by God himselfe, and was made after his Image and likenesse, not sub­stantially, as if thereVid. contra [...] impietatem d [...]cretum con [...]il, [...]racar. cap. 5. [...]. Da [...]se. de orth. fid. lib 2. cap. 12. were a Real Emanation and Traduction of the Soule out of God; which were blasphemous and impious to conceive: but only by way of Resemblance, and imitation of God properties in mans originall created nature which is more notable in him, than in the othe [...] parts of the world; there is indeed in all God [...] est ollis vigor &c [...]le­stis Origo. works some kind of image, and lineaments, an [...] footsteps of his glory.

[Page 401]Deum nam (que) ire per omnes Terras (que) Tractus (que) maris Coelum (que) profundum, &c.
For all the tracts of Earth, of Sea, and Sky,
Are filled with divine immensity.

The whole world is a great [...]. Orig. apud Eu­seb. de praepar. Evang. lib. 6. c. 11. F [...]nxit i [...] essigi­e [...] mod [...]tum c [...]ncta Deorum. Ovid. Met. 1. In alii [...] creatur [...] est simili [...]udo dei tantùm per m [...] ­dum Vest [...]i; in Sola Rationali Creatura per modum imagi­nis. Vid. Aquin. part. 1. qu. 93. art. 6. [...]. Philo. apud Eu­seb. de praepar. Eva [...]g. lib. [...]. cap. 18. [...]. Gieg. Nyssen. Serm [...] in ver­b [...] illa s [...]amus [...], &c. [...]. Arist. Ethic lib. [...]0 c 7. Deorum cogna­tione [...]enetur. [...]. de Divin. lib. 1. & lib. de A [...]icit. Porphyr. apud Euseb. de pr [...]p. Ev [...]g lib. 11. cap. 28 lib. 1. Clem. Alex. in s [...] lib. 4 Strom [...]. Ipse etiam C [...]c. in somnio Scipio. book, wherein we read the praise, glory, power, and infinite­nesse of him that made it, but man is after a more peculiar manner called [...] and [...] the image and glory of God; the greater world is only Gods workmanship, wherein is represented the wisdom and power of God, as in a building the Art and cunning of the workman; but man (in the origi­nall purity of nature) is besides that, as wax, wherein was more notably impressed by that di­vine spirit (whose work it is to seale) a spirituall resemblance of his owne goodnesse and sanctity. Againe, the greater world was never other than an Orator to set forth the power and praises of God; but he made the soule of man, in the be­ginning as it were his Oracle, wherein he fastned a perfect knowledge of his law and will, from the very glimpses and corrupted Reliques of which Knowledge of his Law, some have beene bold to call men [...]the kindred of God, And Senec. Liber Animus & Diis cognatus; which is the same with that of Aratus cited by S. Paul [...], for wee are his off-spring, yea Euripides (as Tully in his * Tusculans observes,) was bold to call the soule of man, by the name of God; and Seneca will venture so farre too. Quid [Page 402] aliud vocas animum quàm deum in humano corpore S [...]cc. cp. 31. & 41. hospitantem. But to forbeare such boldnesse, as (it may be) one of the Originals of heathen Ido­latry: Certaine it is, that there are (as Tully ma­ny times divinely observes) sundry similitudes betweene God and the minde of man. There are indeed some Attributes of God, not on­ly incommunicable, but absolutely inimita­ble, and unshadowable by any excellency in mans soule, as immensity, infinitenesse, omnipo­tency, omniscience, immutability, impassibility, and the like; but whatsoever spirituall, and Ra­tionall perfections the power & bounty of God, conferr'd upon the soule in its first Creation, are all of them so many shadowes and represen­tationsVid. Aug. de Gen. ad li [...]. lib. 6. c. 12. of the like, but most infinite perfections in him.

The Properties then and Attributes of God,A [...]bros. Hexam. lib. 6. c. 8. Tertull. lib. [...]. contra Marci [...]. cap, q. 9. 16. Clem. Alex. in Protreptic p. 30. Basil. Hexam. Hom [...]. 10. wherein this Image chiefely consists, are first these three. Spirituality with the two immediate consequents thereof, Simplicity and Immortality, in which the soule hath partaked without any after corruption or depravation. Concerning the former, it were vast, and needlesse, to con­fute those Vid. Theodo­red. Serm. 5. de Natura Hom & Nemes. cap. [...]. S [...]u, Nyssen. lib. de Ani [...]i. Pla­tarch de placi­tis Philosoph. l. 4. c. 2. Tertul. de Anim. Senec. Nat. qu. l. 7. c. [...]4 sundry opinions of ancient Philo­sophers, concerning the substance of the soule; many where of Tully in the first of his Tusculans hath reported; And Aristotle confuted in his first de Anima. Some conceived it to be blood, others the braine, some fire, others ayre; some that it consists in Harmony and Number; and the Phi­losopher Dicaearchus, that it was nothing at all [Page 403] but the body disposed and fitted for the works of life. But to let these passe as unworthy of refutation, and to proceed to the truth of the first property.

There are sundry naturall reasons to prove the Vid. Nem [...]s. de Anim. cap. 2. Cl [...]udi [...]n. Ma­mercum de statu An [...]me. lib 2. Plotin, a [...]d [...]u. sib. de praeparat. Evang. l. 25 c 21 Damisc de Or­thod. fi. le. l. 2. c 12 Plutarch. lib. de placitis Philo­soph. lib. [...]. c. 2. 3. Aug. lib. de quan [...]itate Ani­me. Spirituality of the soule; as first, the manner of its working, which is immateriall by conceiving objects, as universall, or otherwise purified from all grosnesse of matter, by the Abstraction of the Active understanding, whereby they are made in some sort proportionall to the nature of the In­tellect Passive, into which the species are im­pressed.

Secondly, its in dependance on the body, in that manner of working; for though the operations of the soule require the concurrence of the com­monsense and imagination, yet that is by way only of conveyance from the object, not by way of assistance to the elicite and immediate act. They only present the species, they doe not qualifie the perception. Phantasmata are only objecta operation is; the objects they are, not instrumenta operandi, the instruments of the soules working. The Act of understanding is immediatly from the soule, with­out any the least concurrences of the body there▪ unto, although the things whereon that act is fixed and conversant, require, in this estate, bo­dily organs to represent them unto the soule; as light doth not at all concurre to the act of see­ing, which solely and totally floweth from the visive faculty, but only serves as an extrinsecall assistance for qualification of the Medium and ob­ject [Page 404] that must be seene. And this reason Aristotle lib. 3. de Ani­ [...]a. cap. 5. hath used to prove, that the understanding, which is principally true of the whole soule, is not mixt with any body, but hath a nature altogether di­vers there-from, because it hath no bodily or­gan, as all bodily powers have, by which it is enabled to the proper acts that belong unto it. And hereon is grounded another reason of his, to prove the Soule immateriall, because it depends not on the body in its operations, but educeth them immediately from within it selfe, as is more manifest in the Reflexion of the soule, upon its owne nature, being an operation (as hee ex­preslyIbid. cap. 6. speaketh) seperable there-from, the soule be­ing not only actus informans, a forme informing, for the actuating of a body, and constitution of a compound substance, but actus subsistens too, a forme subsisting; And that per se, without any necessary dependance upon matter. It is an act, which worketh as well in the body, as whereby the body worketh.

Another reason of Aristotle in the same place, is the difference betweene Materiall and Imma­teriall powers. For (saith he) all bodily cognosci­tive faculties doe suffer offence and dammage from the too great excellency of their objects, as the eye from the brightnesse of the Sunne, the eare from the violence of a sound, the touch from extremity of heat or cold, and the lik [...]. But the understanding on the contrary side is per­fected by the worthiest contemplations, and the better enabled for lower enquiries. And there­fore [Page 405] Aristotle in his Ethicks, placeth the most compleat happinesse of man, in those heavenly intuitions of the minde, which are fastned on the divinest and most remote objects; which in Re­ligion is nothing else, but a fruition of that bea­tificall vision (which, as farre as Nature goes, is call'd the contemplation of the first cause) and an eternall satiating the soule with beholding the Nature, Essence, and glory of God.

Another reason may be drawn from the con­dition of the Vnderstandings Objects, which have so much the greater conformity to the soule, by how much the more they are divine and abstra­cted. Hoc habet animus argumentum suae divinitatis, (saith Seneca) quòd illum divina delectam. This ar­gument of its divinenesse hath the minde of man, that it is delighted with divine things; for if the soule were corporeal, it could not possibly reach to the knowledge of any, but materiall substan­ces, and those that were of its owne Nature; otherwise we might as well see Angels with our eyes, as understand any thing of them in our minds. And the ground of this reason is, that axiome in Philosophy, that all reception is ad modum recipientis, according to the proportion and capacity of the receiver. And that the ob­jects which are spirituall and divine, have greatest proportion to the soule of man, is evident in his Understanding and his will, both which are in regard of truth or good unsatisfiable, by any materiall or worldly objects, the one never rest­ing in enquiry, till it attaine the perfect know­ledge, [Page 406] the other never replenished in desire till it be admitted unto the perfect possession of the most divine and spirituall good: to wit, of him who is the first of Causes, and the last of Ends.

From this Attribute of Spirituality flowes im­mediatly that next of Simplicity, Vnity, or Actuality; Aris [...]t. d [...] Ani­ [...]a lib 3. cap. 6. for Matter is the root of all perfect composition, every Compound consisting of two Essentiall parts, matter and forme. I exclude not from the Soule all manner of composition; for it is pro­per to God only to be absolutely and perfectly simple: But I exclude all Essentiall composition, in respect whereof the Soule is meerely Actuall; And so I understand that of Tully, Nihil est Animus ad­mixtum, Tuscul. q l. 1. & lib. de Se­nectut. nihil concretum, nihil copulatum, nihil coag­mentatum, nihil duplex.

CHAP. XXXIV. Of the Soules immortality proved by its simpli­city, independance, agreement of Nations in acknowledging God and duties due unto him, dignity above other Creatures, power of un­derstanding things immortall, unsatiablenesse by objects Mortall, freenesse from all causes of corruption.

ANd from this Simplicity followes by a ne­cessary & unavoydable consequence, the third property spoken of,V [...]d Plutarch. lib. d [...] placit. Philosoph 4 c. 7 quae ex Sen [...]a [...] u [...]um co [...]legit Dionys. Gotho­ [...]td. in lo [...]x ipso [...]. Ti [...]l de An mo. Cicer. Tusc. qu. lib. 1. Ca [...]o ma­jor, sive de se­nect. & de Ami­ [...]t. [...] [...]am [...] ­riam [...] [...]. [...] 1. Euseb. de prae­par. Evang. lib. 11. ex P [...]one porpher. &c. N [...]mes Ae [...]rs Gaz [...]us in [...]. Erast [...]. [...]. Immortality, it being absolutely impossible (as Tully excellently observes, & it is the argument of Iul. Scaliger on this very occasion) for any simple and uncom­pounded Nature to be subject to death and cor­ruption; For (saith Tully) Interitus est discessus & secretio ac direptus earum partium quae conjunctione [...]liqua tenebantur. It is a separation (and as it were) a divulsion of parts, before united each to other, so that where there is Ni [...] [...] [...] esse quod [...] a [...]um [...] quem est: Iste [...] for­ [...] [v [...]z. Sim­ [...]] n [...] possunt perd [...]e actum per quem sunt, quia sibi i [...] s [...] sunt Actus. Nihil au [...] [...]otest se­ [...] perdere. Contarenu [...]. lib. 1 de Immort. Animae. no Union, there can be no separation, and by consequence no death nor mortality.

Another reason may be the same which was alledged for the spirituality of the soule, namely independance in operation, and therefore conse­quently in Being upon the body. And that In­dependance [Page 408] is manifest, First, because the acts of the soule are educ'd immediately in it selfe, without the Intercedence of any organ whereby sensitive faculties work. Secondly, because the soule can perceive and have the knowledge of truth of universals, of it selfe, of Angels, of God, can assent, discourse, abstract, censure, invent, contrive, and the like; none of which actions could any wayes be produced by the Intrinsecall concurrence of any materiall faculty. Thirdly, because in Raptures and Extasies, the soule is (as it were) drawne up above and from the body, though not from informing it, yet certainely from borrowing from it any assistance to the produce­ing of its operation. All which prove, that the soule is separable from the body in its Nature, and therefore that it is not corrupt and mortall as the body.

Another reason may be taken from the Uni­versall agreement of all Nations in the Earth in Cum de Ani­marum at [...] ni­tate [...], non [...]ve mo­mentun apud no [...] habet con­st [...]sus H [...]mi­num aut timen­tium infer [...] ▪ aut colen [...]ium. [...]. c. [...]p 117. Religion and the worship of some Deity, which cannot but be raised out of a hope and secret Re­solution that that God whom they worshipped, would reward their piety, if not here, yet in ano­ther life. Nulla gens adeo extra leges est project [...] ut non aliquos deos credat, saith Seneca; whence those fictious of the Poets touching Elyzium and fields of happinesse for men of honest and well orde­red lives; and▪ places of Torment for those that doe any way neglect the bonds of their Re­ligion.

[Page 409]Ergo exercentur poenis, veterum (que) malorum Supplicia expendunt.
Therefore they exercised are with paine,
And punishments of former crimes sustaine.

For in this life it is many times in all places seene, that those which have given themselves most liberty in contempt of Gods Lawes, and have suffered themselves to be carried by the swinge of their owne rebellious Passions, unto all injurious, ambitious, unruly Practises, have commonly raised themselves and their fortunes more than others, who out of tendernesse and feare have followed no courses but those which are allowed them. And yet these men who suf­fer so many indignities out of regard to Religi­on, doe still observe their duties, and in the midst of all contempt and reproach, fly into the bo­some of their God: And as Lucretius himselfe that Arch-Atheist confesseth of them:

—Multò in rebus acerbis Acri [...]s advertunt animos ad religionem.
Their hearts in greatest bitternesse of minde,
Unto Religion are the more enclinde.

Their very terrors and troubles make them more zealous in acknowledging some Deity and in the worship of it. Hic Pietatis h [...]s? would not this easily have melted their Religion into no­thing, and quite diverted their minds from so fruitlesse a severity, had they not had a strong and indeleble perswasion fastned in their soules, that a state would come, where in both their Pa­tience should be rewarded, and the insolencie of [Page 410] their Adversaries repayed with the just Ven­geance they had deserved?

As for that Atheisticall conceit, that Religion is only grounded on Policie, and maintained by Princes for the better Tranquillity and Setled­nesse of their States, making it to be only Impe­riorum Vinculum, a Bond of Government, that the Common-weale might not suffer from the fury of minds secure from all Religion, it is a fancie no lesse absurd, than it is impious. For that which hath not only beene observed and honour'd by those who have scarce had any forme of a civill Regiment amongst them, but even generally as­sented unto by the opinions and practice of the whole world, is not a Law of Policie and civill Institution, but an inbred and secret Law of Na­ture dictated by the consciences of men, and as­sented unto, without and above any humane im­position. Nor else is it possible for Legall insti­tutions, and the closest and most intricate con­veyances of Humane Policy so much to entangle the hearts of men (of themselves enclinable to liberty) nor to fetter their consciences, as there­by only to bring them to a regular conformity unto all government for feare of such a God, to whose Infinitnesse, Power and Majestie they As­sent by none but a civill Tradition. It must be a visible character of a Deitie acknowledged in the Soule, an irresistible Principle in Nature, and the secret witnesse of the heart of man, that must constraine it unto those sundry religious ceremo­nies (observed among all Nations) wherein even [Page 411] in places of Idolatry, were some so irksome and repugnant to Nature, and others so voyd of Rea­son, as that nothing but a firme and deepe Assu­rance of a Divine Judgement, and of their owne Immortality, could ever have impos'd them up­on their consciences. And besides this consent of men unto Religion in generall, we finde it al­so unto this one part hereof touching the Soules immortality. All the wisest and best reputed Philosophes for Learning and stayednesse of life, and, besides them, even Barbarians, Infidels, and savage people have discerned it. Adeò nescio quo mod [...] inhaeret in menibus quasi seculorum quod­dam augurium futurorum, saith Tully. The Soule hath a kinde of presage of a future world; And therefore he saith, that it is in mans Body a Te­nant,Tus [...] qu [...]l 1. tanquam in dome al [...]enâ, as in anothers house: And is only in Heaven as a Lord tanquam in domo suâ, as in its owne.

Though in the former of these, the ignorance of the Resurrection made him erre touching the future condition of the Body, wherein indeed consists a maine dignity of Man above other creatures. And this Opinion it is which he saith was the ground of all that care men had for po­sterity, to sow and plant Common-wealths, to ordaine Lawes, to establish formes of Govern­ment, to erect Foundations and Societies, to ha­zard their Blood for the good of their Country; all which could not have beene done with such freedome of Spirit, and prodigality of life, un­lesse there were withall a conceit that the good [Page 412] thereof would some way or other redound to the contentment of the Authors themselves af­ter this life: for it was a speech savouring of in­finite Atheisme.

[...].
When I am dead, and in mine V [...]ne;
What care I though the World burns?

Now although against this present ReasonTull. Tus [...]. qu. lib 1. drawne from the consent of men (which yet Hea­thensSen [...] [...] 117. themselves have used) It may be alledged that there hath beene a consent likewise of some, That the Soule is nothing else but the Eucrasie or good Temperature of the Body, and that it is therefore subject to those Maladies, Distempers, Age, Sicknesse, and at last Death, which the Bo­dy is; as amongst the rest Lucretius takes much paines to prove: yet the Truth is, that is Votum magic quàm Iudicium, never any firme opinion grounded on Judgement and Reason, but rather a desire of the heart, and a perswasion of the Will inticing the Understanding so to determine. For the conscience of lewd Epicures and sensuall minds, being sometimes frighted with the flashes and apprehensions of Immortality, which often times pursues them, and obtrudes it selfe upon them against their wills, shining like lightning through the chinks & crevises (as I may so speak) of their Soules, which are of set purpose closed against all such light, sets the Reason on work to invent arguments for the contrary side, that s [...] their staggering and fearefull impiety may b [...] something emboldned, and the Eye of their [Page 413] conscience blinded, and the Mouth mustled from breathing forth those secret clamors and shrikes of feare. The Deniall then of the Immortality of the Soule is rather a Wish than an Opinion, a corruption of the Heart and Will, than any Na­turall Assertion of the understanding, which cannot but out of the footsteps and reliques of those first sacred Impressions, acknowledge a spirituall resemblance in the Soule of Man unto some supreame Deity, whom the conscience in [...]acon Essay of Athe [...]sme. all its Enormities doth displease: And therefore it is observed that the Mind of an Atheist is con­tinually wavering and unsatisfied, never able so to smother the inbred consciousnes of its im­mortality, as not to have continuall suggestions of feare and scruple. Wheresoever there is an impious Heart, there is alwayes a shivering judgement.

Another Reason of the Soules immortality may be drawne from the dignity and prehemi­nence of Man above other Creatures: for hee is made Lord over them, and they were ordained to be serviceable to him, and Ministers for his contentments: which dignity cannot possibly stand with the Mortality of the Soule. For should not many other Creatures farre exceed Man in [...] [...]ad. [...]. 446. the Durance of their being? And even in their time of living together, how subject to weake­nesses, sicknesse, languishing, cares, feare, jealou­sies, discontents, and all other miseries of Mind and Body, is the whole Nature of Man, of all which, other creatures feele the least disturbance? [Page 414] Are not Men here, beyond the rest, the very pro­perDiogenc [...] vo­care shl [...]b it [...]. Lac. l. lib. 6. [...] Solon ad [...]oe­sum. vid. Theo­doret. [...]om. 5. de n [...]ura Hom. & Clem. Alex. Strom. lib. 3. p. 316. 317. Edit. Hi [...]ns. subjects and receptacles of misery? Is not our heart made the Naturall center of feares and sorrowes? and our Minds, as it were, Hives to entertaine numberlesse swarmes of stinging and thorny Cares? Are wee not Vassals and Slaves to many distempered passions? Have not our very Contents their terror, and our Peace distur­bance? Are not all our Comforts, wherewith wee strive to glut and stuffe our selves here, the glorious Vanities, and golden delusions and co­senages of the world? And how miserable must their miseries be, whose very happinesse is un­happy? And for Reason, what comfort could wee finde in it, when it would alwayes be pre­senting unto us the consideration of an eternall losse of all our contentments, and still affright us with the dark and hideous conceit of Annihila­tion? Mortality and Corruption makes Un­reasonablenesse a Priviledge; And in this case the Beasts would be so much the more happy than Man, by how much the lesse they know their owne wretchednesse. An Atheist would be in this life farre happier than he is, if he could bring himselfe to have as little Reason as he hath Religion.

Another Reason may be taken from the Na­ture of Mans reasonable Faculties. To every Power in Man, as God hath assigned a peculiar operation, so likewise hath hee given it Objects of equall extent thereunto, which are therefore able to accomplish its naturall desires, whereby [Page 415] it fasteneth on them. And for this cause from the Nature of the Objects, wee easily rise to know the Nature both of the Faculties and Es­sence; for from the Essence flowes naturally the Faculty, from the Faculty is naturally educed the Operation, which requires naturally Objects proportionall, convenient, satisfactory, and of equall extent. Where therefore no mortall ob­ject beares full convenience, nor is able to satiate and quiet the Faculty, there it and the Essence, from which it flowes, are both immortall. Now we see sensitive Powers finde in this life full sa­tisfaction, as the Sight from all the Variety of Colours, the Eare of sounds, and the like: only the Reasonable Parts, the Understanding, and the Will can never be replenished in this estate of Mortality. Have they as great and wide con­tentments,Fecisti no [...] ad [...]e, & n [...]equietum est cor nostrum [...] requiescat in [...]e Aug. Con­ses. l. 1. c. 1. vid. Ibid. lib. 4. cap. 10. 12. de Trinit. lib. 13. cap 8. Omni [...] mihi Co­pia quae Deu [...] me [...] no [...] est, E [...]esta est▪ Con­sess. lib. 13. c. 8. Vid. [...]iam de Civ. Dei. lib. 8. cap. 8. lib. 11. c. 13. l 12. c 1. as the whole frame of Nature can here afford them; still their pursuites are restlesse, still they find an absence and want of something, which they cannot finde. Orbis Alexandro an­gustus; In this case every man is like Alexander. This world wherein wee now converse, is too straight and empty to fill the vastnesse, and limit the desires of the Soule of Man. Only the sight and possession of God, the most infinite good, can satisfie our Understandings and our Wills. For both these Faculties (as all others in suo Ge­ [...]re) ayme at summum. The Understanding is carried ad summam Causam to the first of Truths; the Will ad summum Bonum to the last of Ends; and therefore he only which is the First and the Last, [Page 416] can satisfie these two searching and unquiet fa­culties. Hi motus Animorum a [...] (que) haec certa [...]ina.

These are the Motions, this the strife
Of Soules, aspiring unto life.

All the Knowledge we heap up here, serves on­ly as a Mirrour wherein to view our ignorance, and wee have only light enough to discover that wee are in the dark. And indeed, were there no Estate wherein Knowledge should receive a Perfection, and be throughly proportioned to the Heart of man, The labour of getting the Knowledge wee have, and the vexation for the want of what wee have not, and the griefe of parting so soone with it, would render the vexa­tion of it farre greater than the content.

Hoc est quòd palles? cur quis non prandeat hoc est?
Is this the fruit, for which we fast?
And by pale studies sooner waste?

Do we toyle and sweat, and even melt our selves away for that which wee sooner forsake than finde? Doe wee deny our selves the content­ments and satisfactions most agreeable to our corporeall condition, being without hope of ac­complishing our wishes in another estate? It is naturall for gaining of Knowledge to hasten un­to that whereby we loose both it and our selves? and to labour for such a purchase, which like lightning is at once begun and ended, yea indeed sooner lost than gotten? Certainly were man not conscious of his owne immortality, there [Page 417] could be no stronger inducement to sottishnesse, luxury, riot, sensuality, and all other unbridled practises. It is registred for the impiety of A­theists; Let us eat and drink, for to morrow wee shall dye.

Another Reason may be framed after the same manner, as was that to prove the Spirituali­ty of the Soule from the manner of its operation. And it is grounded on those two ordinary Axi­omes in Philosophy, That every thing is received according to the quality of the Receiver, and that every thing hath the same manner of [...]ssence, as it hath of ope­ration. Now the Soule of Man can easily receive impressions and conceits of immortality, and discourse thereupon: therefore also it is in its owne Essence and nature immortall. Wee see even betweene things meerely corporeall, as the Object and the sensitive Organ, how small a dis­proportion works incapacity. Much more must it be found in so great a difference as would be betweene immortality of Objects and corrupti­on of the Soule that worketh on them. We can­not picture an Angel or Spirit, nor make any im­ [...]ateriall stamp in a piece of wax, since a corporeall substance is capable of none but corporeall im­pressions. And therefore wee see that even a­mongst Bodies, the more pure and subtile they are, the more are they exempted from the per­ception of the quickest and most spirituall sense, the sight. Now the mind of man in Understand­ing, is but as wax to the seale, or as a Table and Picture to an Object which it represents: which [Page 418] is the ground of that Paradox in Aristotle, that in understanding the Soule is (as it were) made the Object that is understood. Because, as the Wax, after it is stamped, is in some sort the very Seale it selfe that stamp'd it, namely Representa­tive, by way of Image and resemblance; so the Soule, in receiving the species of any Object, is made the picture and image of the thing it selfe. Now the understanding, being able to appre­hend immortality (yea indeed apprehending e­very corporeall substance, as if it were immor­tall, I meane by purging it from all grosse mate­riall and corruptible qualities) must therefore needs of it selfe be of an immortall Nature. And from the latter of those two Principles, which I spake of, namely, that the quality of the Being may be gathered from the Nature of the Opera­tion, Aristotle inferres the separability and indepen­dance of the understanding on the Body, in the third de Animâ afore-named: For the Soule be­ing able to work without the concurrence of any bodily Organ to the very act it selfe (as was be­fore shewed) must needs also be able to subsist by its owne nature, without the concurrence of any matter to sustaine it. And therefore hee saith in the same place, that the understanding is separable, uncompounded, impassible; all arguments of immortality. Other reasons are produced for the proofe hereof, taken from the causes of cor­ruption, which is wrought either by Contraries working and eating out Nature; or by Defect of the Preserving cause, as light is decayed by ab­sence [Page 419] of the Sunne; or thirdly by corruption of the subject whereon it depends. None whereof can be verified in the Soule. For first, how can any thing be contrary to the Soule, which recei­veth perfection from all things? for Intellectus omnia intelligit, saith Aristotle, yea wherein all Contraries are reconciled and put off their Op­position? For (as a great man excellently speak­eth)Mornay of Christian Religion. Chap. 14. those things, which destroy one another in the World, maintaine and perfect one another in the Minde; one being a meanes for the clearer apprehension of the other. Secondly, God, who is the only Efficient of the Soule (being else in it selfe simple and indivisible, and therefore not capable of death, but only of Annihilation) doth never faile, and hath himselfe promised never to bring it unto nothing. And lastly, the Soule de­pends not, as doe other Formes, either in Ope­ration or Being, on the Body, being not only Actus informans, but subsistens too, by its owne abso­lute vertue.

CHAP. XXXV. Of the Honour of Humane Bodies by Creation, by Resurrection; of the Endowments of Glo­rified Bodies.

ANd now, that this particular of im­mortality may farther redound bothVid. Cal. Rho­dig. lib. 2. cap. 9. 10. 11. Aug. de Gen. ad lit. l. 6. c. 12 &c. Platonic. [...] sen­tenti [...] Ca [...]cer, Apostolic. i Tem­plum. Tertul. de An [...]m. Tertull. de Car­ne Christi. Vid. Aug. lib. 7. de Trinit. cap. 6. to the Honour and comfort of Man, I must fall upon a short digression touching mans Body: wherein I intend not to meddle with the Question, How mans Body may be said to be made after the Image of God (which sure is not any otherwise, than as it is a sanctified and shall be a Blessed Vessell, but not as some have conceited, as if it were in Creation Imago Christi futuri, nec Dei opus tantum, sed & Pig­nus: As if Christ had beene the patterne of our Honour, and not wee of his Infirmity, since the Scripture saith, Hee was made like unto us in all things, and that he Assumed our Nature, but never that we were, but that we shall be like un­to him) not, I say, to meddle with this, I will only briefly consider the Dignity thereof in the particular of immortality, both in the first structure, and in the last Resurrection of it. The Creation of our Bodies, and the Redemption of our Bo­dies, as the Apostle calls it. What Immunity was at first given, and what Honour shall at last be restored to it. In which latter sense it shall certainly be Secundum Imaginem, after his Image, [Page 421] who was Primitiae the First fruits of them that rise. That as in his Humility his Glory was hid in our Mortality, so in our Exaltation our Mor­tality shall be swallowed up of his Glory. And for the first estate of Mans Body, we conclude in a word: that it was partly Mortall, and partly Immortall: Mortall in regard of possibility of Dying, because it was affected with the mutuall Action and Passion of corruptible elements: for which reason it stood in need of reparation and recovery of it selfe by food, as being still Corpus Animale, and not Spirituale, as St. Paul distinguish­eth, a Naturall, but not a Spirituall Body. But it was Immortall, that is, Exempted from the Law of Death and Dissolution of the Elements, in vertue of Gods Covenant with man, upon con­ditionAug. de Gen ad lit. lib. 6. cap. 25. de Civ. dei. l. 13. c. 19 Vide quae fuse & erudite disscrit Georg. Zeem [...]n▪ Tract. de I [...]. Dei. cap. [...] sect. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5 [...]. of his Obedience. It was Mortall Condi­tione Corporis, by the Condition of a Body; but immortall Beneficio Conditoris, by the Benefit of its Creation; else God had planted in the Soule such naturall desires of a Body wherein to work as could not be naturally attained; For the Soule did naturally desire to remaine still in the body. In the naturall Body of Adam there was no sin, and therefore no death, which is the wages of sinne.

I come now to the Redemption of our Bodies already performed in Pignore & in Primi [...]its, In our Head, & in some few of his Members, Enoch, Ellas, and (as is probable) in those dead Bodies which arose to testifie the Divine power of our crucified Saviour; and shall be totally accom­plished [Page 422] at that day of Redemption, as the same Apo­stleEph. 4 30. calls the Last day: that day of a full and fi­nall Redemption, when Death, the last enemy, shall Luk. 21. 28. be overcome. And well may it be called a day of Redemption, not only in regard of the Creature, which yet groaneth under the Malediction and Tyrannie of sinfull Man: nor yet only in respect of Mans Soule, which, though it be before admit­ted unto the purchased Possession of the Glori­fying Vision, and lives no more by Faith alone, but by sight, shall yet then receive a more abun­dant fulnesse thereof, as being the day of the Manifestation and plenary discovery both of the Punishing Glory of God in the Wicked, and of his Merciful and Admirable Glory in the Saints: but also and (as I think) most especially in respect of the Body. For there is, by vertue of that Om­nipotent Sacrifice, a double kinde of Redempti­on wrought for us: The one Vindicative, giving us Immunity from all spirituall dangers, deliver­ingLuk. 1. 68. us from the Tyrannie of our Enemies, fromHeb. 9. 1 [...]. the Severity, Justice, and Curse of the Law;Luk. 21. 28. Rom. 8. 23. which is commonly in the New Testament cal­ledEph. 1. 7. simply [...] and [...], a Deliverance from evill; The other Purchasing, or Munificent, by not only freeing us from our own wretched­nesse, but farther conferring upon us a Positive and a Glorious Honour, which St. Iohn calls [...], a Power, Priviledge, Prerogative, andIoh. 1. 12. Title unto all the Glorious Promises of Immor­tality: which like wise St. Paul calls [...],Eph. 1. 14. the Redemption of a purchased Possession, [Page 423] and a Redemption unto the Adoption of Sonnes. Now then the Last day is not Totally and Perfectly a day of Redemption unto our Soules in either of these senses, since they are in this life delivered from the Malediction of the Law, from the Wrath of the Judge, from the Tyrannie of the Enemie, from the Raigne of Sinne, and by Death freed not only from the Dominion, but from the Pos­session, or Assault of the Enemie; not only from the Kingdome, but from the Body of Sinne; and is withall in good part possessed of that Blisse, which it shall more fully enjoy at last. But our Bodies, though before that Great day they par­take much of the benefits of Redemption, as be­ing here sanctified vessells, freed from the Au­thority and Power of the Devill, World, Flesh, and from the Curse of Death too, wherein they part not only with life, but with sinne; yet after all this doe they want some part of either Re­demption: as namely to be raised and delivered from that dishonour and corruption, which the last Enemie hath brought upon them: and to be Admitted into those Mansions, and invested with that Glory, whereby they shall be Totally possessed of their Redemption. In a word, the Soule is in its separation fully delivered from all Enemies, which is the first; and in a great mea­sure enjoyeth the Vision of God, which is the second part or degree of mans Redemption. But the Body is not till its Resurrection, either quite freed from its Enemie, or at all possessed of its Glory. I meane in its selfe, though it be in its [Page 424] Head, who is Primitiae & P [...]gnus Resurrectionis, the first fruits and earnest of our Conquest over Death.

Touching the Dignity of our Bodies, though there be more comfort to be had in the Expecta­tion, than Curiosity in the enquirie after it; yet what is usually granted, I shall briefly set down. And first, it shall be Raised a whole entire and per­fect Body, with all the parts best fitted to be Re­ceptacles of Glory; freed from all either the Usherers in, or Attendants and followers on the Grave, Age, Infirmity, Sicknesse, Corruption, Ignominie, and Dishonour: And shall rise a true, whole, strong, and honourable Body. For though every part of the Body shall not have those pe­culiar uses, which here they have, since they nei­ther eat, nor drink, marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the Angels of God: yet shall not any part be lost: Licet enim officiis liberentur, judiciis re [...]i­nentur: T [...]ull. Though they are freed from their Tem­porall service, for which they were here or­dained, yet must they be reserved for receiving their judgment, whether it be unto Glory, or unto Dishonour.

The second Dignity is that Change and Al­terationVid. Aug. de C [...]v. Dei. lib. 13. cap. 20. & 23. & Epist. 146. of our Body from a Naturall to a Spiri­tuall Body, whereby is not meant any Transub­stantiation from a Corporeall to a Spirituall sub­stance: For our Bodies shall, after the Resurre­ction, be conformable unto Christs body, which, though glorious, was not yet a Spirit, but had flesh and bone, as we have. Nor is it to be understood of [Page 425] a thinne, Aereall, Invisible Body (as some have collected) since Christ saith of his Body, after he was risen, Videte, Palpate. Wheresoever it is, it hath both its quantity, and all sensible qualities of a Body Glorified with it. It is a strong Argu­ment, that it is not there, where it is not sensible; And therefore the Doctrines of Vbiquity, and Transubstantiation, as they give Christ more thā he is pleased to owne, an Immensity of Body; so doe they spoyle him of that, which hee hath beene pleased for our sakes to assume; Extensi­on, Compacture, Massinesse, Visibility, and other the like sensible Properties, which cannot stand with that pretended miracle whereby they make Christs Body (even now a Creature, and like un­to ours in substance, though not in qualities of Corruptibility, Infirmity, Ignominie, Animality) to be truly invested with the very immediate properties of the Deity. True indeed it is, that the Body of Christ hath an efficacie and operati­on in all parts of the world, it worketh in Heaven with God the Father by Intercession; amongst the blessed Angels by Confirmation; in Earth, and that in all ages, and in all places amongst Men, by Justification, and Comfort; in Hell amongst the Devils and Damned, by the Tremblings and Feares of a condemning and convicting Faith. But Operation requireth only a presence of Ver­tue, not of Substance. For doth not the Sunne work wonderfull effects in the bowels of the Earth, it selfe notwithstanding being a fixed Pla­net in the Heaven? And why should not the [Page 426] Sunne of Righteousnesse work as much at the like distance, as the Sunne of Nature? Why should he not be as Powerfull Absent, as he was Hoped? Or why should the Not presence of his Body make that uneffectuall now, which the Not existing could not before his Incarnation? Why should we mistrust the Eyes of Stephen, that saw him in Heaven, at such a Distance of place, when Abraham could see him in his own bowels through so great a Distance of Time?

That Speech then, that the Body shall be a Spirituall Body, is not to be understood in either of those former senses: but it is to be understood first of the more immediate Union and full In­habitation of the vertue and vigour of Gods Spi­rit in our Bodies, quickning and for ever sustain­ing them without any Assistance of Naturall or Animall qualities, for the repairing and aug­menting of them in recompence of that, which by labour and infirmity, and the naturall oppo­sition of the Elements, is daily diminished. Se­condly, it shall be so called in regard of its Obe­dience & Totall Subjection to the Spirit of God, without any manner of Reluctance and dislike. Thirdly, in respect of those Spirituall qualities, those Prerogatives of the Flesh, with which it shall be adorned, which are

First, a Shining and Glorious Light, wherewith­all it shall be cloathed as with a Garment: for the Iust shall shine as the Sunne in the Firmament. Now, this shal be wrought first by vertue of that Communion, which wee have with Christ our [Page 427] Head, whose Body, even in its Mortality, did shine like the Sunne, and had his cloathes white as light. And secondly, by diffusion and Redundancie fromDe m [...]i [...] A­nim [...] in Corpus, vide C [...]l Rho­dig. lib. 1 [...]. cap. 15. 16. our Soule upon our Body, which by the Beatifi­call Vision, filled with a Spirituall and uncon­ceiveable brightnesse, shall work upon the Body, as on a Subject made throughly Obedient to its Power unto the Production of alike qualities.

The second Spirituall Property shall be Im­passibility, not in respect of Perfective, but in re­spect of annoying, disquieting, or destructive Pas­sion. There shall not be any Warre in the mem­bers, any fighting and mutuall languishing of the Elements; but they shall all be sustained in their full strength by vertue of Christs Communion, of the Inhabitation of the Spirit, of the Domi­nion of the Glorified Soule. There shall be no need of rest, or sleepe, or meat, all which are here requisite for the supply of our Infirmities and daily defects, and are only the Comforts of Pilgrimage, not the Blessednesse of Possession. For although Christ after his Resurrection did eat before his Disciples, yet this was none other­wise done, than that other, the Retaining of his wounds, which was only for our sakes; that our Faith touching the Truth of his Body, might not be without these visible and inferiour Witnesses, by which he was pleased to make his very Glo­rified flesh a proportioned Object to our fraile sense and faith, that so wee might thence learne confidently to rely for our selves as well on the Benefit of his Exaltation, as of his Humility. Or [Page 428] it was done (as St. Augustine speaks) Non ex Ne­cessitate, De C [...]i. Dei. lib. 14. sed ex Potestate: as the Sunne is said to draw and suck up standing waters: Non Pabuli Egestate, sed Virtutis Magni [...]adine, Not to Nourish, but to Manifest its vertue.

Thirdly, the Body shall be a strong and beauti­full Body, throughly able to minister unto the Soule any service, wherein it shall imploy it, and shall be no longer, as it is now, the clogge and luggage thereof. It shall likewise be free from all blemish and deformity (which ever ariseth out of the distemper & discord of the Elements) (as it is by good probability conjectured) reducedIta [...] p [...] ­rum de Corpor [...] ut nihil deforme mantal in Cor­pore. Vid. Aug. En­chirid. c 91. & de Civ▪ Dei. lib. 2 [...]. cap. 19▪ 20. Tertul de Resu [...] ­vitia de [...]en­tur, Natura [...]r­vabitur. Aug. de Civ. Dei. l. 22. cap. 17. unto a full, comely and convenient stature, even in those, who were in their Death contemptible, Infants, lame, dismembred, or any other way dishonoured with the miseries of corruption; Naturae, non injuriae reddimur, we shall be restored to our Nature, but not to our shame; the Dust shall still retaine and bury our dishonour, and it shall be one part of our Glory to be made fit for it.

The last quality of our Bodies, which I shall observe, is a perfect subtilty and agility, best befit­ting their service for the Soule in all speedy mo­tion; which surely shall be there so much the more requisite, than here on earth, by how much Heaven is a more ample and spacious Country. And thus while the Body is made an attendant on the Soules glory, it is likewise a partaker of it. Unto these, adde the sweet Harmony of the Af­fections, the exact and exquisite Operation of the [Page 429] senses, the Bodily communion and fellowship of the Saints, and, above all, the Eternall Corpo­reall vision of that most sacred Body, whence all ours derive their degrees of Honour, whose pre­sence were truly and without any Hyperbole able to make Hell it selfe a Place of Glory: how much more that Country, and those Mansions, where the Soule likewise shall be swallowed up with the immediate vision and fruition of Di­vine Glory. Our Soules are not here noble e­nough to conceive what our Bodies shall be there.

CHAP. XXXVI. Of that part of Gods Image in the Soule, which answereth to his Power, Wisedome, Know­ledge, Holines. Of Mans Dominion over other Creatures. Of his Love to Knowledge. What remainders we retaine of Originall Iustice.

THe other Properties or Attributes of God, of which Mans Soule beareth an Image & dark resemblance, are those, which according to our Apprehension seeme not so Intrinsecall and Essentiall as the former. And they are such as may be either ge­nerally collected from the Manifestation of his Works, or more particularly from his Word. These, which referre unto his Works, are his Power in Ma­king and Ruling them; his Wisedom in Ordering [Page 430] and Preserving them; his Knowledge in the Con­templation of them: and of these it pleaseth him at the first to bestow some few degrees upon mans Soule.

Concerning the Attribute of Power, most cer­taine it is that those great parts of Gods work­manship, Creation, and Redemption, are incommu­nicably belonging unto him as his owne Prero­gative Royall. Insomuch that it were desperate blasphemy to assume unto our selves the least re­semblance of them. Yet in many other proceed­ings of Gods works, there is some Analogie and Resemblance in the Works of Men. For first, what are all the motions and courses of Nature, but the Ordinary works of God? All formes and intrinsecall Motive Principles are indeed but his Instruments; for by him we live, and move, and have our being. And of all other works, mans only imitate Nature: as Aristotle observes of the Works of Art, which peculiarly belong unto Man (all other Creatures being carried by that naturall instinct, which is Intrinsecally belong­ing to their condition, without any manner of Art or variety.) The Resemblances of Nature in the Works of Art are chiefly seene in these two Proportions: First, as Nature doth nothing in Vaine, but in all her Works aymes at some End, the Perfection, or the Ornament, or the Conservation of the Universe (for those are the three ends of Nature subordinate to the Maine, which is, the Glory of the Maker) so likewise are the works of Art all directed by the Understanding to some [Page 431] one of those ends; either to the perfection of Men, such are all those, which informe the Vn­derstanding, and governe the life: or to his Conservation, as those directed to the furthering of his welfare, and repairing the decayes, or shel­tering the weaknesses of Nature: or lastly to his Ornament, such as are those Elegancies of Art, and Curiosities of Invention, which, though not necessary to his Being, yet are speciall instru­ments of his delight, either Sensitive or Intel­lectuall.

The second Resemblance, is betweene the Manner and Progresse of their Workes: for as the Method of nature is to proceed, ab imperfecti­oribus ad Perfectiora, and per determinata Media ad [...] Finem; So Art likewise as is plaine in those which are Manuall) by certain fixed rules, which alter not, proceeds to the producing of a more perfect effect, from more tough and unformed beginnings, by the help of Instruments, appro­priated to particular services. But this, because [...]t limits Mans dignity, as well as commends it, I for beare to speake of. Though even herein also we doe seeme to imitate God, who in his great worke of Creation did proceed both by successi­ [...] of Time, and degrees of Perfection; only it is Necessity in us which was in him his Will.

To come therefore nearer, it is observable, that in the first Act of Gods power, in the Ma­king and Framing of the World, there was No thing here below created properly, immediatly, and totally, but the Chaos and Masse, or the [Page 432] Earth without forme, and voide, out of the Obe­dience whereof, his Power did farther educe and extract those Wonderfull, Va [...]ious, and Beauti▪ full Formes, which doe evidently set forth unto the Soule of Man, the Glory and Majestie of him that made them. By a small Resemblance of this manner of Working, Man also in those Workes of Art, peculiar to him from other Creatures, doth ex Potentia Obedientiall (as the Schooles call it) out of the Obedience and Sub­jection [...] V. d. T [...]rtul. de [...]. c. 26. Ambros. [...] l. 6. c. 6. [...]. O a [...]. 1. [...]. much­minem▪ &c. Aug. [...] Gen. ad li [...]. lib. 3. c 20. [...]. de O th [...]d. [...]. [...]. 2. cap 30. [...] his [...] men [...] [...] [...] [...] alta▪ De [...] adhuc, & quod Dimina [...] [...] [...] posse [...] [...] [...] es [...] Ovid Me [...]. [...]. 1. [...] [...] [...] [...] ▪ vit eum [...] [...] de­buis s [...]b [...] [...] [...] [...]. qu [...] esse [...]. Aug. [...]. [...] 8. in [...] [...]. of any proposed Masse produce, Non per Naturam, sed per Imperium, not out of the Nature of the Subject, but by the command of Rea­son sundry formes of Art full of Decency and Beauty.

And for Government, I meane Subordinate, and by Derivation or Indulgence, it is mani­fest that all Creatures inhabiting the World with him were subdued unto Man; and, next un­to the Glory of the great Maker, were ordained for his service and benefit *. And therefore, when ever wee finde any of them hurtfull and Rebellious, wee cannot but remember that the occasion thereof was our owne disloyal­ty; they doe but Revenge their great Masters wrong, and, out of a Faithfull care and jealousie to Preserve his Honour, Renounce their Fidelity and Obedience to a Traitom *. And indeed how can we looke to have our Dominion intire over Beasts and inferiour Creatures, when by conti­nuall Enormities we make our selves as one of them? [Page 437] [...] Continued by the Generall Providence of God, whereby hee is pleased to preserve things in that course of Subordination wherein first hee made them, and like a gracious Prince, to con­tinue unto Man the use of his Creatures, even then when hee is a prisoner unto his Justice. Renewed, by the Promise and Grant made againe unto Noah. And there is a Double Promise under which wee may enjoy the Creatures, the one a Morall Promise made unto Industry, as, The Diligent hand maketh Rich; and, hee that Ploweth his Land, shall have Plenty of Corne: the other an Evangelicall Promise made unto Piety, and Faith in Christ, whereby is given unto Christian men both a freer use of the Crea­tures than the Iews had, and a purer use than the wicked have. For, unto the Cleane all things are Cleane.

And this Grant of God doth sometimes shew it selfe extraordinarily, as in the Obedi­ence of the Crowes to Eliah, the Viper to Paul, the Lyons to Daniel, the Whale to Io­nah, the Fire to the three Children, and the trembling and feare of wilde Beasts towardsEus [...]b. lib. 8. c. 7. Ignis Polycar­pum n [...]u [...]. Eus [...]b. l. [...]. c. 14. many of the Martyrs: Alwayes Ordinarily, in ordering and dispensing the course of Nature so, as that Humane Society may be preser­ved, both by power in subduing the Crea­tures which hee must use, and by wise­dome in escaping the Creatures which hee doth feare.

Now for the second Attribute, Gen 1. v. [...]lt. Eccles. 7. 30. Wisedome, [Page 438] there is also a remainder of the Image there­ofCol. 3. 10. in Man: for albeit, the fall and corrupti­onGen 2. 19. 23. Ioh. 1. 5. of Nature hath darkned his eyes, so that hee is enclined to worke Confusedly, or toEph. 4. 17. 18. Rom. 3 13▪ walk as in a Maze, without Method or Or­derCol. 1. 21. (as in a Storme the Guide of a VessellProv. 22. 15. is oftentimes to seek of his Art, and forced to yeeld to the windes and waves) yet cer­taine it is that in the minde of Man there still remaines a Pilot, or Light of Nature; many Principles of Practicall prudence, whereby (though for their faintings a man do's often miscarry and walke awry) the course of our Actions may be directed with successe and is­sue unto Civill and Honest ends. And this is evident, not only by the continuall practise of Grave and Wise men, in all States, Times, and Nations; but also by those sundry lear­ned and judicious Precepts, which Historians, Politicians, and Philosophers have by their naturall Reason and Observation framed for the compassing of a Mans just ends, and also for Prevention and disappointment of such in­conveniences as may hinder them.

Lastly, for the Attribute of Knowledge, It was doubtlesse after a most eminent manner at first infused into the Heart of Man, when hee was able by Intuition of the Creatures to give unto them all Names, according to their severall Properties and Natures; and in them to shew himselfe, as well a Philosopher, as a Lord. He [...] filled them, sayth Siracides, with [Page 439] the Knowledge of Vnderstanding. And herein, if wee will beleeve Aristotle, the Soule is most neerely like unto God, whose infinite Delight is the Eternall Knowledge and Contemplation of himselfe, and his Works. Hereby, saith hee, the Soule of man is made most Beloved of God,Ethic. l. 10 and his minde, which is Allied unto God, is it selfe Divine, and, of all other parts of Man, most Divine. And this made the Serpent use that In­sinuation only, as most likely to prevaile, for compassing that Cursed and miserable project of Mans ruine. By meanes of which Fall, though Man blinded his understanding, and [...]obd him­selfe of this, as of all other blessed habits, I meane of those excellent Degrees thereof, which he then enjoyed: yet still the Desire remaines Vast and impatient, and the pursuit so violent, that it proves often praejudiciall to the estate both of the Body and Minde. So that it is as true now, as eyer, that Man is by Nature a Curious and inquiring Creature, of an Active and restlesse Spirit, which is never quiet, except in Motion, winding it selfe into all the Pathes of Nature; and continually traversing the World of Know­ledge. There are two maine Desires naturally stamped in each Creature; a Desire of Perfecting, and a Desire of Perpetuating himselfe. Of these Aristotle attributeth in the highest degree, the latter unto each living Creature, when he saith, that of all the works of living Creatures, the most naturall is to Generate the like: and hisLib. 2. de Anim. c. 4. Reason is [...]. Because [Page 440] hereby that Immortality (the Principall end (as hee there supposeth) of all naturall Agents) which in their owne Individuals they cannot ob­taine, they procure by deriving their Nature un­to a continued off-spring and succession. But (though in regard of life it hold true of all) Man notwithstanding is to be exempted from the uni­versality of this Assertion. And of himselfe that other desire of Perfection, which is principally the desire of Knowledge (for that is one of the principall advancements of the Soule) should not only in a Positive sense, as Aristotle hath de­termined in the Entrance to his Metaphysicks, but in a Superlative degree be verified, that He is by nature desirous of Knowledge. This being the Principall thing (to use Aristotle his owne reason) whereby Man doth▪ [...], Partake of Divinity, as I observed before out of Aristotle himselfe. And the reason of the difference be­tweene Man and other Creatures in this parti­cular is: First, Because Man hath not such ne­cessary use of that former desire, as others have, in regard of his owne Immortality, which takes away the Necessity of Propagation to sustaine his Nature. And secondly, because Knowledge, the Perfection of the Soule, is to Man (as I may so speake) a kinde of generation, being of suffici­encie to exempt the Person, endued therewith, from all injurie of Time, and making him to sur­vive and out-live his owne Mortality. So that when the Body hath surrendred unto each Re­gion of the World those Elements and Prin­ciples, [Page 441] whereof it was compos'd, and hath not so much as Dust and Cinders left to testifie that Being, which once it had, then doth the Name lie wrapped in the Monuments of Knowledge, beyond the reach of Fate and Corruption.

The Attributes of God, which are manifested more especially in his Word, though sundry, yet (as farre forth as they had ever any Image in Man) may be comprized in this more Generall one of Holinesse. Whereby I understand that Absolute and Infinite Goodnesse of his Nature, which is in him most Perfect, Pure, and Eter­nall. Of which, though Man according to that measure, as it was unto him communicated, was in his great Fall utterly rob'd and spoyl'd, as not being able in any thing to resemble it, or to retaine any the least Prints of those Pure and Di­vine Impressions of Originall Righteousnesse▪ yet still there remaines, even in depraved and Polluted Nature fome shadowes thereof: There is stil the Opus Operatum in ma