THE PASSIONS OF THE …

THE PASSIONS OF THE minde in generall.

Corrected, enlarged, and with sundry new discourses augmented.

By Thomas Wright.

With a treatise thereto adioyning of the Clymatericall yeare, occasioned by the death of Queene ELIZABETH.

Si ignoraste, ô pulcherima inter mulieres, egredere, & abi post vestegia gregum, & pasce haedos tuos iuxta taberna­cula pastorum. Cant. 1.
If thou know not thy selfe, O fayrest among women, goe foorth and follow the steps of thy flocks, and feede thy Kiddes by the tabernacles of Shepheards. Cant. 1.

LONDON Printed by Valentine Simmes for Walter Burre, and are to be sold in Paules Churchyard at the signe of the Crane. Anno. 1604.

TO The right Honorable my very good Lord the Earle of Southampton.

SOme seaven yeares ago (right Honorable) I was requested by divers worthy Gentlemē, to write briefly some pithie discourse about the passions of the minde: because (as they sayd) they were things ever in vse, and seldome without abuse: they were dayly, yea and almost hourely felt no lesse craftie, then dangerous, much talkt of, and as yet never well taught. Their demaund seemed to me so rea­sonable, honest, profitable, and delightfull, as I deemed it discourtesie, and incivilitie, not to condescend to satisfie their sute. A treatise hereupon I penned, but I know not how in the inundation of my crosses it suffered ship­wrack with the rest of my writings: and at what time I supposed it had bin lying rotting in the bottome of the sea, a favorable gale brought it ashoare, where being found (belike by some that liked it well) was taken vp, entertayned, and dispersed abroad. When I beheld it, I wondred, and could not tell whether to reioyce to see mine aborted infant revived, or feare whether it had bin maymed and corrupted: for I doubted it had passed by some hands, which might have cavsed me speake in a language I never vnderstood. At last I fell a perusing of [Page] it, and in deede found, it had not bin hardly vsed, but kindly dealt withall, & what escapes were overslipped, proceeded rather from the vncorrected copie (for of three this was most vnpersit) then from any vncivill en­tertaynement. After that the whole impression was dis­persed, the Printer made meanes to have me adde what I thought wanting, and to amend that I iudged amisse. And so I have augmented this edition with as much more as the first copie conteyned. The which after I had absolved, it seemed of it selfe by a connaturall sym­pathie to present it selfe vnto your Honour. For literall labours are vsually offered to such personages, with whom they particularly consort: and how could any passions finde out a person more proportionate then your Honour? They concerne Gentlemen and Noble­men, to guide them in the way of civill conversation: Your Gentrie is well knowne: they appertayne to souldiours to stirre them vp to courage, and magnani­mitie: your martiall prowesse are patent at home, and famous abroad. They belong to Magistrates and offi­cers, for discovery and manage of subiects: your place, and evident hopes of further preserment presage, that this part cannot but agree to you. For me thinks as often as I consider your presence about his Maiestie, it see­meth to me, with mine eyes to behold an other match­lesse Parmenio, for trust and fidelitie about our invin­cible Alexander of the North. Wherefore my passions being provided for Courts, Fields, and Senates, finde in you vnited, that they sought for dispersed: for as it is di [...]icill to determine which of them hath chiefest part in you, so it is easie for me to resolve how fit this dis­course is for you, which levelleth at all three. I doubt [Page] not but I might say to you as Plotinus a famous Philo­sopher in Rome sayd to Origen, when he entred into his Schoole to heare him reade, who presently at Origens aspect rubore suffusus, blushing, ceased to speake: Origen Porphyr. in vita Plot. requested him to proceede, Plotinus replied, that it was time for a professour to hold his peace, when his audi­tors before-hand knew what he intended to teach. You need not learne of me those things, which both by stu­die and practise you have attayned vnto: yet it is no small comfort for a man to see, either that he knoweth, confirmed, or that he doeth, approved. If these sillie la­bours shall content your Honour, I wish no other re­compence: for that which liketh you in this kinde, I know will not dislike the best: and that which pleaseth the best, by right reason, should be a good inducement, to content all. If these blasted leaves be acceptable to your Lordship, when the fruites are ripe, you shall re­ceive a fatter crop: in the meane time Christ Iesus preserve you in his grace, protect you from your enemies, and de­liver you from inordinate Passions.

Your Honours devoted servant, Thomas Wright.

THE PREFACE vnto the Reader.

I Have divers times weighed with my selfe, whence­from it should proceed that Italians, and Spaniardes, with other inhabitants [...]eyond the Alpes, should ac­count [...] lemings, Englishmen, Scots, and other Nations,Tramontani sem [...]. dwelling on this side, simple, vncircumspect, vnwarie, easie to be de­ceyved, and circumvented by them. And the cause of my doubting was, for that I had perceived, by long experience in Schooles, both in Spaine, Italie, France, and Flaunders; that [...]emings, Scots, and Englishmen were ever equall, and rather deeper Schollers, than ey­ther Italians or Spaniards, so many for so many: Whereunto we may adde the proofe of former ages, wherein all the worlde will confesse, that our Nation hath yeelded as profound and learned Schoole-men as any Nation vnder the Sunne, in like quantity and pr [...]portion. For, what Countrie in any age did ever represent vnto the world, such venerable w [...]ttes, as England, by yeelding our venerable Bede, who, borne in a corner of the world, comprehended the whole world in his boundiesse apprehension & iudgement▪ what age ever see before our Alexander de Hales, a Divine more [...]rrefragable in all his doctrine and opinions, the chiefe master of Schoole-men, before that Eng­land sent him into [...]rance? In what Countrie ever appeared such a mirrour of learning, of subtilitie, of brevitie, of perspicuitie, (in deepest matters, and vnto worthy spirites) as when Scotus shewed himselfe in the chayre at Oxford? whom, for his worth, some other Countries with no lesse vntrueth, than ambition, have challenged for theirs, and would have bereaved England of one of the worthies of the world, What might I not say of O cams, of Bacons, of Middle­tons, in forraine Nations more accounted of, than prized at home, [Page] whose doctrine, the best highly esteeme, whose wittes the wisest ad­mire, and whose opinions innumerable Doctors doe follow? Where­fore we may well glory in this, that our Countrie hath affoorded most of the masters, & of the chiefest Wits, which at this time both Sco­tists, Reals, and Nominals do follow, eyther in Philosophie, or Divi­nitie. And yet for all this, our Nation is accounted simple and vn­wise, among divers others.

Moreover, let vs cast our eyes vpon all sortes of Artes and Trades, from the very shooe vnto the hatte, from the shirte to the cloake, from the kitchin to the Court, and we shall see our Nation as well furnished, as compleate, and artificiall as any other: and as all tra­vellers can well affirme, farre superior to the Spantards, and nothing inferior vnto the Italians. I must confesse, that in some one or other trade, the Italians surpasse vs, but they be such, as eyther England regardeth not at all, or prizeth not very much: but, in such as our Countrie esteemeth, wee may, eyther equall or preferre our selves before them. And yet for all this, a hie-minded companion doubted not, within these few yeeres, to call our Nation, vncivill, and barba­rous▪ and others, to repute vs as simple and vnwarie. After some consideration and reflexion vpon our selves, with reference vnto o­ther Nations, I found out three causes, why those which inhabit these Northerne Climates, are accounted simple and vnwise.

The first is, a naturall inclination to Ʋertue and honestie, much more palpable and easie to be perceyved in these colder Countries, than in those hotter Climates: this we may proove by common ex­perience, for both Spamards and Italians, if they can have a I lem­ming, or an Englishman for their servant, if he be alike qualified with those Country-men, they will preferre him before their owne, for fidelitie, sinceritie and diligence. The very blushing also of our people, sheweth a better ground, wherevpon Vertue may build, than certaine brazen faces, who never change themselves, although they committe, yea, and be deprehended in enormious crimes; for the shame of vice, is a good commencement of Vertue, because it pro­ceedeth from a iudgement disliking of evill, which is an apt beginning of good. Wherefore Aristotle calleth shamefastnesse a vertue, notArist. 3. mora. Nico. cap. 8 [...] for that it is a true vertue indeed, (for it most of all raigneth in [Page] children, who are not capable subiects of morall Vertues) but be­cause it is the seede of Vertue, or a spurre to Ʋertue, or a bridle from vice: or a way, preparation or disposition vnto an honest vertu­ous life. And therefore Plato said that iustice & shame fastnes werePlato in pro­tagor. the giftes of Iupiter. This naturall foundation of honestie, other Nations baptize with the Name of Simplicitie, which they vnder­stand, not in such sort as it resembleth a Vertue, and bordereth vpon sinceritie and vpright dealing, but rather as a vice bending to stupi­ditie, & lacke of knowledge. The common sort of Spaniards and I­talians, censuring our inclinations, with an erroneous iudgement, ac­count that a passion of ignorance, which in very deed, is the first step vnto prudence, esteeming them foolishly vnwary, whom they ought to have reputed rather vertuously wi [...]e.

The second cause is, Education, for prudence and policie are wonne by experience, experience by practise, practise by conversati­on, conversation by communication with people, the which in Citties is better attained vnto then in Villages, and in Citties of greater com­merce and resort, than in Cities of lesser repayre. This wee trie by common consent of all men, who acknowledge the inhabitants of Sea­townes to be more craftie than the rurall colonies, and therefore I­landers are iudged most craftie of all, yet my meaning is alwayes, cae­teris paribus, because, as some Ilanders have little trade, so some Citties no great resort. The nature of mens wittes is such, that one whetteth and pollisheth greatly another, for as their faces are vari­ous, so their inventions setches, sleights and iudgements are diverse.

Wherefore those that have great commerce with men, either they themselves; or else see the various dealings and practises of others, cannot but in time greatly perfite their owne iudgements and vnder­standings: this we may dayly perceyve in our owne Countrie, where­in our Northerne and Welchmen, when they come to London, are very simple, and vnwarie, but afterwards, by conversing a while, and by the experience of other mens behaviours, they become won­derfull wise and iudicious. The Italians therefore and Spaniards, disdayning greatly to dwell long in the Countrey, and betaking them­selves almost wholly vnto Cities, by a continuall conversation, even from their youth, become very nimble in the managing all affaires, [Page] and consequently, very politique and craeftie. For great Citties (spe­cially Emporiall) affoord vnto them all sorts of positique prudenc [...], eyther for vniversall governement of the State, or particular regi­ment of the Cittie, or private oeconomie for a family, or common conversation with men: all which Citties, as open Schooles, teach a­bundantly; villages and townes, eyther nothing, or very sparingly. The most of our Englishmen contrariwise, eyther dwell in the Coun­trie, or in Citties not so populous, wherein they may enioy such meanes, as enable other Nations vnto the attainement of w [...]t▪ po [...]i [...]y, and prudence, wherefore this defect of conversation impeacheth greatly the warines of our Countriemen with other Nations: where­by sundry of our rurall Gentlemen, are aswell acquainted with the civill dealing, conversing, and practise of Citties, as many Kockneis, with the manuring of lands, and affayres of the countrey. Our Eng­lish youth also, for most part, are brought vp, with too much feare and terrour: for eyther their Parents or Schoole-masters passe the borders of mediocritie in this part: because they eyther punish them too extreamely, or threaten them too severely: whereby th [...] passi­ons of pusillanimitie & feare specially when any matter of moment is to be attempted, so distract their present attention, that they cannot almost possibly vpon a sudden consider the circumstances, weigh the matter, and resolve aright: for these restraining Passions witharaw a great part of their soules consideration. The Italians and Spani­ards contrariwise, by bringing vp their children with more libertie, enlarge their hearts with boldnesse and audacitie, in such sort, as v­sually you shall see them at sixteene or seventeene yeeres of age, as bold and audacious as ours at thirtie: and contrariwise ours at sixe­teene or seventeene, drooping with feare and timiditie, as if they were so many chickens drawne out of a Well.

The third cause is, a certaine naturall complexion and constitu­tion of body, the which in very deed inclineth and bendeth them of hotter Countries more vnto craftinesse and warinesse, than them of colder Climates; This we may perceyve in Italy it selfe, where the L [...]mbards are more simple than the Romanes, and these not so craf­tie as the Neapolitanes, not these comparable to the Sicilians. The like we finde in Spaine, where the Biskains are not so subtle as the [Page] Castilians, nor these so craftie as the Andalusians. Wherefore, as we proove in beasts, that some, by their naturall instinct, are more wil [...]e than others, as Foxes, Monckies, and Apes, so we finde in men, that some surpasse others in aptnes to deceyve, and in craftinesse to circumvent. And in this we may confesse that Spaniards and Ita­lians goe before vs, for commonly they can better conceale their owne Passions, and discover others, than we. Our people, for most part, reveale and disclose themselves very familiarly and easily; the Spaniard and Italian demurreth much, and selleth his secrets and his friendship by drammes, you shall converse very long with him, before you shall know what is in him: he will shew a countenance of friendship, although he intendeth revenge: he can trayne his pur­poses afarre off, to vndermine where hee pleaseth: hee will praise where he spiteth, and disprayse where he loveth for a further pro­iect: hee can observe his times better than we for his plots, and marke fitter occasions to effectuate his i [...]tent: he can winne ground in a mans affection by some small conversation, and after prevaile in what he list, when he hath got the advantage. In sine, he can dis­semble better his owne passions, and vse himselfe therein more cir­cumspectly, than we can doe. Wherefore I thought good to trie if a little direction would helpe [...]ur Countriemen to counterpoise their native warinesse, and open the way, not to become craftie and de­ceitfull, which is vitious, but how to discover other mens passions, and how to behave our selves when such affections extraordinarily pos­sesse vs, the which is the chiefest poynt of prudence, and fittest mean▪ to attayne vnto religious, civil, & gentlemanlike conversation, which is vertuous. Whereunto especially this discourse of Affections ay­meth, albeit for more compleate doctrine, I have handled almost all those questions, which concerne the Passions in generall.

But for all this, I would not have any man to thinke that I am of opinion, that all Italians and Spaniards go beyond all Englishmen in subtiltie and warinesse, for I have found divers of our Nation, whom I beleeve, neyther Italian, nor Spanyard c [...]uld over-reach, in what negotiation soever: but onely I meane that for the most part, those Nations surpasse ours in a certaine politique craftinesse, the which Nature first bred in them, Education per [...]ited, Vertue amen­deth, [Page] and Art discovereth. The which I have endevoured first of all (as I thinke) to draw into forme and method, according to the principles of Sciences, hoping that some other will hereby take occa­sion, eyther to perfite mine, or to attempt a better; my desire is, the good of my Countrie; the effect, every mans prudent carriage; the last end, the glory of God; whereunto all our labours must tend, and all our actions be directect: and therefore, to him let these little sparkes be consecrated, to kindle the [...]ire in his most holy Temple.

& in tremore. sperando.

To the ternall, and aeternall Vnitie.

FLame of bright love and beauty, thou (whose beames▪
Reflected heere, have so [...]bellished
All Creatures) finding how my fancy fed
Vpon this earthy circles glimmering gleames,
Not else reclaimable from those extreames,
Centrally drewst my heart to one faire head,
Enamelled with browne, blew, white and red;
So to allure it to those heavenly Reames.
Purify all the Passions of my Minde,
And light my vnderstanding: So may I
Reede foorth, and heed what Passions heere I find.
Kindle my will and heave it vp, for why
Even as thy love, like fire, drawes vp my love,
Right so my love, like fire, will mount above.

To the Author.

IN Picture, they which truly vnderstand,
Require (besides the likenesse of the thing)
Light, Posture, Height'ning, Shadow, Culloring,
All which are parts commend the cunning hand;
And all your Booke (when it is throughly scan'd)
Will well confesse; presenting, limiting,
Each subt'lest Passion, with her source, and spring,
So bold, as shewes your Art you can command.
But now, your Worke is done, if they that view
The severall figures, languish in suspence,
To iudge which Passion's false, and which is true,
Betweene the doubtfull sway of Reason', and sense;
Tis not your fault, if they shall sense preferre,
Being tould there, Reason cannot, Sense may erre.
B. I.

The first Booke of the PASSIONS of the MINDE: wherein is declared, the essence of Passions.

The end and profite of this Discourse, wherein are declared the Passions and Affections of our Soules. CHAP. I.

THERE can be no man, who works by right reason, but when he first intendes his worke, he aymeth at some end, he levels at some good; viz. either to instruct the wit with doctrine, move the will to virtue, delight the minde with pleasure; or in fine, direct the Reader to do some thing that may be, either commodious to him­selfe, or profitable to the common weale. This Trea­tise therefore of the Passions of the Minde, cannot but carry with it, a goodly and faire glosse of profite and [Page 2] commoditie, not onely because it concerneth every mans particular, but also, for that there be few estates or conditions of men, that have not int'rest in this mat­ter; the Divine, the Philosopher, the curers both of the bodie and the soule, I meane the Preacher and Physiti­an; the good Christian that attendeth to mortificati­on, and the prudent civill Gentleman that procureth a gratefull conversation, may reape some commoditie touching their professions; and in sine, every man may, by this, conse to a knowledge of himselfe, which ought to be preferred before all treasures and riches.

The Divine herein may first challenge his parte, be­cause the inordinate motions of Passions, their preven­ting of reason, their rebellion to virtue are thornie bri­ars sprung from the infected root of original sinne (the which Treatise wholy concerneth Divines, and all the deformed broode thereby ingendred:) the Passions likewise augment or diminish the deformitie of actuall sinnes, they blinde reason, they seduce the will, and therefore are speciall causes of sinne: whereuppon a­mong Divines grew that common distinction of sins, that some are of Passion, others proceede from igno­rance, [...] others from malice and wilfulnesse; Finally, Pas­sions are meanes to help vs, and impediments to with­draw vs from our end: the Divine therefore, who spe­cially entreateth of our last end, and of the meanes to atchieve it, and difficulties to obtaine it, mu [...] of neces­sitie extend the sphere of his knowledge to this subject of our Passions; and for this respect of Divines they areSee Thom. cum Scholasticis in 12 q. 22. & a­lios in 1. part. vbi de h [...]mine. divinely handled.

The Philosopher, as well naturall as mo [...]ll, the one for Speculation, the other for Practise, wade most pro­foundly [Page 3] in the matter of our Passions. The naturallSee the Philo­sophers in the second and third de Ani­ma. Philosopher contemplating the natures of men and beasts sensitive soules (for Passions are common to both) consequently enter into discourse about the acti­ons and operations thereof; for, without the know­ledge of them it were impossible to attaine vnto the perfite vnderstanding of either of them. The morall Philosopher, describing maners, inviting to virtue, dis­swading from vice, sheweth how our inordinate ap­petites must be brideled with fortitude & temperance, he declareth their natures, their craft & deceit, in what sort of persons they are most vehement, and in whome more moderate; and to be briefe, he spendeth wel nie in this disputation, all his morall Philosophie, in teach­ing how they may be vsed, or abused.

The christian Orator (I meane the godly Preacher) perfitely vnderstanding the natures and proprieties of mens passions, questionlesse may effectuate strange matters in the mindes of his Auditors. I remember a Preacher in Italy, who had such power over his Audi­tors affections, that when it pleased him he could cause them shead aboundance of teares, yea and with teares dropping downe their che [...]ks, presently turne their sor­row into laughter; and the reason was, because he him­selfe being extreamely passionate, knowing moreover, the Arte of mooving the affections of those Auditors; and besides that, the most part were women that heard him, (whose passions are most vehement and mutable) therefore hee might have perswaded them what hee li­sted. The same commoditie may be gathered by all other Oratours, as Embassadours, Lawyers, Ma­gistrates,See Aristotle▪ Rhetorikes. Captaines, and whatsoever would perswade [Page 4] a multitude, because, if once they can stirre a Passion or Affection in their Hearers, then they have almost halfe perswaded them, for that the forces of strong Passions, marvellously allure and draw the wit and will to judge and consent vnto that they are mooved. Many things more might be saide concerning this matter, but in all the other Chapters folowing, except this first, I meane to touch this point very largely.

As this Treatise affordeth great riches to the Physi­tian of the soule, so it importeth much the Physitian of the bodie, for that there is no Passion very vehement, but that it alters extreamely some of the foure humors of the bodie; and all Physitians commonly agree, that among diverse other extrinsecall causes of diseases, one, and not the least, is, the excesse of some inordinate Pas­sion: for although it busieth their braines, as also the na­turall Philosophers, to explicate the manner how an o­peration that lodgeth in the soule can alter the bodie, and moove the humors from one place to another, (as for example, recall most of the bloud in the face, or o­ther partes, to the heart, as wee see by daily experience to chance in feare and anger) yet they consent that itSee Fracasto­riu [...] libr. de sympathia & lib. 2. de intel­lectione circa medium. may proceede from a certaine sympathie of nature, a subordination of one part to another, and that the spi­rites and humors wait vpon the Passions, as their Lords and Maisters. The Physitians therefore knowing by what Passion the maladie was caused, may well inferre what humor aboundeth, & consequently what ought to be purged, what remedy to be applied; & after, how it may be prevented.

If all the aforesaide Professions may challenge each one a part in this Discourse; surely the good Christian, [Page 5] whose life is a warrefare vpon earth; he, who if he love his soule, killeth it; he, whose studie principally stan­dethIob 7. 1. in rooting outvice, and planting of vertue; hee,Mar. 8. 35. whose indevour specially is imployed in crucifying old Adam, and in refining the image of Christ: he, who pretendeth to be ruled by reason, and not tyrannized by preposterous affection, this man (I say) may best peruse this matter, he may best meditate it; he may best know where lieth the cave of those Serpents and Basi­liskes, who sucke out the sweete blood of his soule; hee may see where the thorn sticketh that stingeth his heart: finally, he may view his domesticall enemie, which ne­verMatt. 10. 36. permits him to be quiet, but molesteth in prosperi­tie, deiecteth in adversitie; in pleasure makes him disso­lute, in sadnesse desperate, to rage in anger, to tremble in feare, in hope to faint, in love to languish. These were those temptations of the flesh that S. Paul did pu­nish,1. Corint. 9. 27 saying; Castigo corpus meum, & in servitutem redigo, I chasten my body, and bring it into servitude: these were those members the same Apostle exhorted vs to mortifie vpon earth, Mortificate membra vestra quae Coloss. 3. 5. sunt super terram. Seeing then how all the life of a spi­rituall man ought to bee imployed in the expugnation of these molestfull Iebusites, without all doubt it im­portes him much to knowe the nature of his enemies, their stratagems, and continuall incursions, even vnto the gates of the chiefest castell of his soule, I meane the very witte and will.

Not only the mortified Christian had need to know well his passions, because, by brideling them he winnes a great quietnesse of minde, and enableth himselfe bet­ter to the service of God, but also the civil Gentleman, [Page 6] and prudent Polititian, by penetrating the nature and qualities of his affections, by restraining their inordi­nate motions, winneth a gratious cariage of himselfe, and rendereth his conversation most gratefull to men: for I my selfe have seene some, Gentlemen by blood, and Noblemen by birth, yet so appassionate in affecti­ons, that their company was to most men intollerable: for true is that Salomon saide, Vir iracundus provocat Prover. 15. 18. rixas, qui patiens est mitigat suscitatas, An angry man raiseth brawles, but a patient man appeaseth them after they be raised. And therefore howe vngratefull must his company seeme, whose passions over-rule him? and men had neede of an Astrolabe alwayes, to see in what height or elevation his affections are, lest, by casting forth a sparke of fire, his gun-powdred minde of a so­dayne be inslamed. I omit how he may insinuate him­selfe into other mens love and affections, how in trave­ling in strange countries he may discover, to what passi­on the people are most inclined; for as I haue seene by experience, there is no Nation in Europe that hath not some extraordinarie affection, either in pride, anger, lust, inconstancie, gluttonie, drunkennesse, slouth, or such like passion: much it importeth in good conversation, to know exactly the companies inclination; and his so­cietie cannot but be gratefull, whose passions are mode­rate, and behaviour circumspect. I say nothing of Ma­gistrates, who may by this matter vnderstand the incli­nations and dispositions of their inferiors and subiects. But finally I will conclude, that this subiect I intreat of, comprehendeth the chiefe obiect that all the antient Philosophers aymed at, wherein they placed the most of their felicitie, that was, Nosce teipsum, know thy selfe: [Page 7] the which knowledge principally consisteth of a perfit experience every man hath of himselfe in particular, and an vniversall knowledge of mens inclinations in common; the former is helped by the latter, the which knowledge is delivered in this Treatise.

What we vnderstand by Passions and Affections. CHAP. II.

THree sortes of actions proceede from mens soules, some are internall and immateriall, as the actes of our wittes and willes; others be meere externall and materiall, as the acts of our senses, seeing, hearing, moving, &c. others stand betwixt these two extreames, and border vpon them both; the which wee may best discover in children, because they lacke the vse of reason, and are guided by an internall imagination, following nothing else but that pleaseth their sences, even after the same maner as bruite beastes doe: for, as we see beastes hate, love, feare and hope, so doe children. Those actions then which are common with vs, and beastes, wee call Passions, and Affections, or pertu [...]bations of the mind, Motus (saith saint Augustine) animae quos Graeci [...] appel­lant ex Latinis quidam vt Cicero 3. Tuscul perturbationes dixerunt, alii affectiones, alii affectus, alii expressas passiones vocav runt. The motions of the soule, called of the Greekes [...], some Latines, as Cicero, called them per­turbations, [Page 6] [...] [Page 7] [...] [Page 8] others affections, others affectes, others more expresly name them Passions. They are called Passions (although indeed they be actes of the sensitive power, or facultie of our soule, and are defined of Da­mascene: Motio sensualis appetitivae virtutis, ob boni vel ma­li Damasc. 2 de fide orth. ca. 22. imaginationem: a sensual motion of our appetitive fa­cultie, through imagination of some good or ill thing) because when these affections are stirring in our minds, they alter the humours of our bodies, causing some passion or alteration in them. They are called pertur­bations,Cic. in 3. Tusc. for that (as afterward shall be declared) they trouble wonderfully the soule, corrupting the iudge­ment, & seducing the will, inducing (for the most part) to vice, and commonly withdrawing from vertue, and therefore some call them maladies, or sores of the soule. They bee also named affections, because the soule by them, either affecteth some good, or for the affection of some good, detesteth some ill. These passions then beThe definiti­on of Passions Zeno apud Cic. 4 Tusc. it [...] defi­nit. perturbatio ceu [...] aver­sa a recta rati­one contra na­turam animi commotio. certaine internall actes or operations of the soule, bor­dering vpon reason and sense, prosecuting some good thing, or flying some ill thing, causing therewithall some alteration in the body.

Here must bee noted, that albeit these passions inha­bite the confines both of sense and reason, yet they keep not equall friendship with both; for passions and sense are like two naughtie servants, who oft-times beare more love one to an other, than they are obedient to their Maister: and the reason of this amitie betwixt the passions and sense, I take to bee, the greater confor­mitie and likenesse betwixt them, than there is betwixt passions and reason: for passions are drowned in corpo­rall organs and instruments, aswell as sense; reason de­pendeth [Page 9] of no corporall subiect, but as a Princesse inWhy passions follow rather Sense tha [...] Reason. her throne, considereth the state of her kingdome. Pas­sions & sense are determined to one thing, and as soone as they perceyve their obiect, sense presently receives it, and the passions love or hate it: but reason, after shee perceiveth her obiect, she standes in deliberation, whe­ther it bee convenient shee should accept it, or refuse it. Besides, sense and passions, as they haue had a leagueCic. vbi supra. Aristotle insi­nuates 3. Eth. ca. 2. the longer, so their friendship is stronger, for all the time of our infancie and child-hood, our senses were ioint­friendes in such sort with passions, that whatsoever de­lighted sense, pleased the passions; and whatsoever was hurtfull to the one, was an enemy to the other; and so, by long agreement and familiaritie, the passions had so engaged themselves to sense, and with such bondes and seales of sensual habites confirmed their friendship, that as soone as reason came to possession of her kingdome, they beganne presently to make rebellion; for right rea­son oftentimes deprived sense of those pleasures he had of long time enioyed, as by commaunding continen­cie, and fasting, which sense most abhorred: then passi­ons repugned, & very often haled her by force, to con­descend to that they demaunded, which combate andRom. 7. 23. captivitie was well perceived by him, who sayd, Video aliam legem in membris meis repugnantem legi mentis meae & captivantem me in lege peccati: I see an other law in my members, repugning to the law of my minde, and lea­ding mee captive in the law of sinne. Whereupon Saint Cyprian sayde, Cum Avaritia, &c. Wee must con­tendCypr. in lib d [...] mortalitate. with avarice, with vncleannesse, with anger, with ambition: wee have a continuall and molestfull bat­tell with carnall vices, and worldly inticements.

Moreover, after that men, by reason, take possession over their soules and bodies, feeling this warre so migh­tie, so continuall, so neere, so domesticall, that eyther they must consent to doe their enemies will, or still bee in conflict: and withall, foreseeing by making peace with them, they were to receive great pleasures and de­lights, the most part of men resolve themselves, never to displease their sence or passions, but to graunt them whatsoever they demaund; what curiositie the [...]ies wil see, they yeelde vnto them; what daintie meates the tongue will taste, they never deny it; what savours the nose will smell, they never resist it; what musicke the eares will heare, they accept it; and finally, whatsoever by importunitie, prayer, or suggestion, sensualitie re­questeth; no sooner to reason the supplication is pre­sented, but the petition is graunted. Yet if the mat­ter heere were ended, and reason yeelded but onely to the suites of sensualitie, it were without doubt, a great disorder to see the Lorde attend so basely vpon his ser­vants: but reason once beeing entred into league with passions and sense, becommeth a better friend to sensua­litie than the passions were before: for reason straight­waies inventeth tenne thousand sorts of new delights, which the passions never could have imagined. And therefore if you aske now, who procured such exquisite artes of Cookerie, so many sawces, so many broths, so many dishes? No better answere can bee given, than Reason, to please sensualitie: who found first such gor­ge [...]s attyre, such varietie of garments, such decking, trimming, and adorning of the body, that Taylors must every yeere learne a newe trade? but Reason to please s [...]n [...]ualitie: who d [...]uised such stately Palaces, such deli­cious [Page 11] gardens, such precious canopies, and embroidred beddes? but Reason to feede sensualitie. In fine, dis­course over all artes and occupations, and you shall find men labouring night and day, spending their witte and reason to excogitate some newe invention to delight our sensualitie: In such sort, as a religious man once la­menting this ignominious industry of reason, imployed in the service of sense, wished with all his hearte, that godly men were but halfe so industrious to please God, as worldly men to please their inordinate appetites. By this wee may gather howe passions stand so confined with sense and reason, that for the friendship they beare to the one, they draw the other to bee their mate and companion.

Of Selfe-love [...], or Amor proprius. CHAP. III.

ALthough in the precedent Chapter wee touched, in part, the roote from whence did spring those spinie braunches of bri­arie passions, that was the league and con­federacie made with senses; yet for more exact intelligence of their nature, or rather nativitie, I thought good to intreate of selfe-love the nurse, mother, or rather stepdame of all inordinate affections.

God, the author of nature, & imparter of all goodnes hath printed in euery creature, according to his divine [Page 12] providence, an inclination, facultie, or power to con­serve it self, procure what it needeth, to resist & impugne whatsoever hindereth it of that appertaineth vnto his good and conservation. So we see fire continually ascen­deth vpward, because the coldenesse of the water, earth, and ayre much impeacheth the vertue of his heate: hea­vie substances descend to their centre for their preserva­tion: the hare flieth from the houndes: the partridge hideth her selfe from the tallent of the hawke; and in fine, God hath enabled every thing to eschew his enne­my, and enioy his friend. Whereuppon grew that pro­trite distinction of a triple appetite, naturall, sensitive, and reasonable: the first we finde in elements and plants, the second in beasts and men; the third in men and an­gelles: the first, Philosophers call, a naturall inclination: the second, a sensitive appetite: the third, a reasonable or voluntary affection: neverthelesse the naturall incli­nations of inanimate creatures, and the sensitive appe­tites of living thinges, dissent in some points; because they with one motion eschew their contraries, procure their owne good, and obtaine that they need; as for ex­ample, the fire by the same motion ascendeth to heaven, getteth his place, and flieth from earth and water, as con­traries: the boyling water set from the fire, cooleth it selfe, and withall, expelleth the vnnaturall heate. Men and beastes with one appetite prosecute the good they desire, and with an other they slie the evill they abhorre: as for example, with one appetite a man desires good wine, and with another detesteth ill wine. An other dif­ference (besides) there is, because men and beasts, in their appetites, have a certaine pleasure and delectation, paine or griefe, the which affections can not be found [Page 13] in any inanimate creatures. This delight or payne God imparted vnto vs, that wee might thereby be stirred vp to attempt those actions which were necessary for vs, or flie those inconveniences or harmes which might annoy vs: for who would attend to eating or drincking, to the act of generation, if Nature had not ioyned thereunto some delectation? A pregnant proofe of this may be seene in sicke men, who having lost their appetites, loathe nothing so much as meate.

Heere we may beginne, to discover the coasts of Selfe-love, for God having so bountifully granted vs meanes to provide for such thinges as were needefull, and to avoyde such things as were harmefull, adioyning pleasure to the one, and paine to the other: wherevppon ensued, that having a reasonable soule, the which, like an Empresse was to governe the body, direct the senses, guide the passions as subiects and vassalles, by the square of prudence, and rule of reason, the inferior partes were bound to yeeld homage, and obey. Then Selfe-love vpstarts, and for the affinitie with sense, for the causes alleadged in the precedent chapter, will in no case obay reason, but allured with the baite of pleasure and sensu­alitie, proclaymeth warres and rebellion against pru­dence, against the love of GOD; in so much this ty­rant prevaileth, that if reason commaund a temperate dyet, she will have exquisite and superfluous dishes: if reason will be contented with a meane & decent attire, she will have gorgeous, and above her state and conditi­on: In summe, from this infected love, sprung all the evils, welnie, that pester the world, the which Saint Au­gustine Aug. lib. 22. deciv. cap. 2 [...]. With saint Augustine consenteth Plato 5. de legibus, And Arist. 9. Eth. c. 8. doth gather together, yet leaveth out many, Mordaces cur [...], &c. griping cares, perturbations, moanes, [Page 14] feares, madde ioyes, dissensions, strifes, warres, strata­gems, angers, enmities, falshood, flatterie, theft, rapine, and a number more which there he reckneth; and I, to avoyd tediousnes, omit. Yet by this may also be vnder­stood that famous distinction, more practized than kno­wen of many, I meane of two loves, the one, that buil­deth the citie of Ierusalem, the other, the citie of Baby­lon; Aug, super psal. 64. that is, the love of God buildeth the cittie of the predestinate; Selfe-love the cittie of the reprobate, that repaireth the ruines of Angelles, this filleth the infe [...]all dennes with Divels: for charitie, and the love of God, being the base and foundation of all goodnesse, with­out which all vertues are dead, and not availing to life everlasting, rendreth a spirituall life, animating the iust to serve God, flie vice, follow vertue; with which vertues and good workes, Gods church is replenished, and Sa­thans synagogue emptied.

Contrariwise, Selfe-love following inordinate affecti­ons, inticeth the cittizens of Ierusalem, to prosecute plea­sures, vnbridle their senses, enioy the roses till they flou­rish, not to let wither the Mayie flowres of their flesh, haleth the poore soules from the libertie of Ierusalem, to the captivitie of Babylon, thereby casting the children of God into the thraldome of Sathan. By this it appea­reth, howe God gave every man an inclination to love himselfe; yet subordinated to reason: and how, by the pleasure of sensualitie, it is growne to such a head, that rather it ruleth reason, than reason ruleth it. Selfe-love then may bee defined, an inordinate inclination of the soule, affecting too much the pleasures of the body a­gainst the prescript of right reason: this may well be cal­led [...], olde Adam, the law of the flesh, sensualitie, [Page 15] the enemie of God, the spring of vice, the roote of im­pietie, the bane of godly conversation, the obiect of mortification, the sincke of sinne, ever craving, never concent, tyrannizing over the greatest, and overthrow­ing the least.

How the Passions may be well directed and made profitable. CHAP. III.

IT hath beene declared (I thinke) sufficiently, howe most men inordinately followe the vn­brideled appetite of their sensual passions; yet no doubt but they may, by vertue be guided, and many good men so moderate and mortifie them, that they rather serve them for instruments of vertue, than foments of vice, and as an occasion of victory, than a cause of foyle: For Christ our Saviour, in whom neyther sinne, nor inordinate affection could fall, no doubt, was subiect to these passions, Tristis est anima Matth. 26. Luke 22. Marke 14. mea, sayth he, vsque ad mortem, My soule is sadde even vntill death: And, Coepit pavere & toedere, He beganne to bee afrayde and heavy. Feare and heavynesse, no doubt, are passions of the mind: yet, because in Christ they were prevented with reason, and guided by vertue, neyther alluring him to sinne, nor ingendring vitiousHieron. ep. 22. ad Eustoch. quem sequun­tur scolastici. Psalme 4. Philip. 2. habites: therefore of Divines, they rather were called propassions, than passions. Moreover, the Scriptures [Page 16] exhort vs to these passions, Irascimini, & nolite peccare, Be angry, and sinne not. Cum metu & tremore salutem o­peramini, with feare & trembling worke your salvation: And therefore it were blasphemous to say, that abso­lutely all passions were ill, for so the Scriptures should exhort vs to ill. The reason also commonly allowed of Philosophers and Divines, most pregnantly prooveth this veritie: for if the motions of our willes be vertu­ous, directed with the square of Gods lawe, and pru­dence, if the inferior appetite or passions obey and con­curre with the will, then with much more ease, pleasure, and delight, vertuous actions are accomplished & per­formed. Yea, oftentimes they take away the molesta­tions and tediousnesse that occurre in the practise of good woorks. For example, often in prayer men feele arridity, lothsomnesse, and paine; yet if the sensible ap­petite get a little delight therein, if Cor & caro exultant in Deum, that is, our heartes and flesh reioyce in God, then paine is turned into pleasure, and a molesting ser­vice into a delightfull obsequie. Hereupon the Philoso­phers and Fathers perceyving what commodities these passions afforded to a vertuous soule, with divers simi­litudes declared their service: Some say, they wereCic. 3. Tusc. sparkes of fire apt to kindle vertue; others, that theyBasil. hom. cont. ir [...]sc. Basil. de virgi­ [...]tate. were souldiers, armed to attend their captayne: They be like water, sayth Basil, that sustayneth oyle above, that it may swimme purely, and not be infected with earth: others compare them with horses which draw a coach;Lactant. lib. 6. c. 17. so the passions draw the soule to the fruition of her ver­tuous obiects. Cicero in 4 Tusc [...]lan▪ calleth anger, cotem, the whetstone of fortitude. And indeede mee thinkes the passions of our minde, are not vnlike the foure hu­mours [Page 17] of our bodies, whereto Cicero well compares them in the aforesayd Booke: for if blood, fleugme, choller, or melancholy exceede the due proportion re­quired to the constitution and health of our bodies, pre­sently we fall into some disease: even so, if the passions of the Mynde bee not moderated according to reason (and that temperature vertue requyreth) immediatly the soule is molested with some maladie. But if the hu­mours be kept in a due proportion; they are the preser­vatives of health, and perhappes, health it selfe.

By this Discourse may be gathered, that Passions, are not onely, not wholy to be extinguished (as the Stoicks seemed to affirme) but sometimes to be moved, and stir­red vp for the service of vertue, as learnedly Plutarch tea­cheth:Plutarch▪ in libro de virt [...]. a [...]r. for mercie and compassion will move vs often to pitty, as it did Iob, Quia ab infantia mea mecum crevit miseratio, Compassion grewe with mee from my in­fancy, and it came with me out of my mothers wombe: therefore hee declareth what succour hee gave to the poore, Iob 31. 18. Ire, and indignation will pricke for­ward the friendes of God, to take his quarrell in hand, and revenge him of his enemies. So Christ, mooved with zeale (which is a passion of love, bordering vpon anger) cast the buyers and sellers out of the Temple of Ierusalem, because, Zelus domus tuae commedit me, theIohn 2. zeale of thy house did eate me. The passion of shame­fastnesse brideleth vs of many loose affections, which would otherwise bee ranging abroad. The appetite of honour, which followeth, yea and is due vnto vertue, encourageth often noble spirites to attempt most dange­rous exploytes for the benefite of their countries: feareEccle. 1. 27. 2. Cor. 7. 9. expelleth sinne, sadnesse bringeth repentance, delight [Page 18] pricketh forward to keepe Gods commandements: andPsal. 118. 32. to bee briefe, passions are spurres that stirre vp sluggish and idle soules, from slouthfulnesse to diligence, from carelesnesse to consideration. Some questionlesse they (almost by force) draw to goodnesse, and others with­draw from vice: For if that many noble Captaynes had not possessed by nature, such vehement passions of glo­ry and honour, they would never have atchieved such excellent victories for the good of the Common-weale. If many rare wittes had not been pressed with the same affections, we should never have seene Homers Poetrie, nor Platoes Divinitie, nor Aristotles Philosophie, nor Plinies Historie, nor Tullies Eloquence; for Honour they aymed at; and although perhaps they tooke thier ayme too high, affecting more glory than their labour deserved; or compleasing themselues more in the opi­nions and fancies of men, than reason required; yet no doubt, but if they had levelled right, and at no more than their workes merited, nor more prized the opini­ons and honours given by men, then they in very deede had beene to bee esteemed; without all question, they had obtayned more renowne, and their passions had bin occasions of great good to all their posterity, as now they profite them, although they proceeded from their Authors vanitie. I take it, that shamefastnes in wo­men restrayneth them from many shamefull offences, and feare of punishment retaineth from theft, and the remorce of conscience calleth many sinners to the grace of God.

Hereby wee may conclude, that Passions well vsed, may consist with wisedome against the Stoickes; and if they be moderated, to bee very serviceable to vertue; if [Page 19] they be abused, and overruled by sinne, to be the nurce­ry of vices, and pathway to all wickednesse. And as I thinke, the Stoickes were of this opinion, for they said, that feare and heavinesse was, Aegritudo quaedam, or, ani­mi Cic. 4. Tus [...]ul. adversanteratione contractio.

An explication of the division of our sensitive appetite into Concupiscibile and Irascibile, that is, Coveting and Invading. CHAP. V.

BEfore we do declare the number of passi­ons that issue out of our soules, it is neces­sary to premitte a common division of our sensuall appetite, found out by experi­ence, allowed of by Philosophers, andArist. lib. 1. Rhetor. c. 10. Damasc, li. 2. fid [...]i orthod. cap. 12. Thom. 1 [...]. q. 23. a. 1. & scolastici ibidem. approved by Divines; that is, in concupiscibile, which in English may be termed, Coveting, Desiring, Wishing; and, irascibile, that is, Anger, Invading, or Impugning, (for so I thinke it may better be called.) These coveting and invading appetites, are not two faculties or powers of the soule, but one onely power and facultie, which hath two inclinations; as we have but one power or fa­cultie of seeing, but two eyes, one power of hearing with two eares; so wee have one sensuall appetite, with two inclinations; the one to covet, the other to invade.

In the manner of explicating these two inclinations, both Divines and Philosophers dissent: yet two explica­tions [Page 18] [...] [Page 19] [...] [Page 20] there are, as more common, so more probable, and more conforme to reason. The first may bee declared after this manner: Wee see by experience, that beastes sometimes have great facilitie to prosecute, or obtayne those obiects they covet; as for example, a horse, the grasse which groweth in the pasture where he feedeth, sometimes they have great difficulty; as for the Lyon to eate a Beare: sometimes they have great facility to eschew that evill they hate; as a Woolfe or a Foxe to escape with his prey from a little Curre: other times we prove they have extreame difficultie to avoyde it; as a Bull to fly from a Lyon. Nowe the authors of this ex­plication conclude, that the coveting appetite, inclineth onely to the obtayning of those obiects which may ea­sily be come by, and to the eschewing of those that may easily be escaped: the invading appetite onely inclineth to the possessing of those obiects which may hardly be gotten, and hardly escaped.

This explication (in my opinion) as it is more com­mon, so it is more vnture: for who doubteth but many both love and desire (which according to all Doctours are operations of the coveting appetite) divers things harde to be compassed; as, the two vnchaste Iudges, the chaste Susanna: and in beasts we see they often affect, love, and desire, that they hardly can purchase. It were folly, to thinke the foxe affected, loved, or desired not a goose, because she were surely penned vp, hardly to be come by: or the wolfe desired not the sheepe when she is defended with the shepheards dogges.

Besides, many be angry (which is a passion of the in­vading appetite) for things they may easily avoyde, as the Lady which child her maide, because the floore of [Page 21] her chamber was defiled with a droppe of a candle. Fi­nally, we knowe God himselfe to bee affected with an­ger, to whome nothing can be hard or difficile. Many things more might be saide concerning this matter; as how the difference, of hardly, or easily obtaining a thing can not cause such diversities of inclinations; for so wee might say our seeing might be divided; for some things we see with facilitie, others with difficulty; some sounds wee heare easily, others hardely. Moreover, the diffi­cultie of obtaining an obiect, rather deterreth a man from procuring it, than inciteth to prosecute it, and therefore consequently it cannot be a cause of distincti­on. But these arguments, and many more, for brevities sake I omit, pretending after another maner to explicate this division.

The other explication, and as easie to be perceived as the precedent, is this. First, as we have insinnuated before, God and Nature gave men and beasts these na­turall instincts or inclinations, to provide for themselues all those thinges that are profitable, and to avoyde all those things which are damnifieable: and this inclina­tion may bee called, concupiscibilis, coveting; yet be­cause that GOD did foresee, that oftentimes there should occurre impediments to hinder them from the execution of such inclinations, therefore he gaue them an other inclination, to helpe themselues to overcome or avoide those impediments, and to invade or impugne whatsoever resisteth: for the better execution whereof, he hath armed all beasts, either with force, craft, or slight, to eschew all obstacles that may detayne them from those things which they conceive as convenient. Wher­fore, to the Bull hee hath imparted hornes, to the Boare [Page 22] his tuskes, to the Lion clawes, to the Hare her heeles, to the Fox craft, to Men theyr hands and witte: And for this cause wee see the very little children, when any woulde deprive them of theyr victualles, for lacke of strength to fight, they arme themselves with teares. To this explication it seemeth that the names of Irascibilis and Concupiscibilis more aptly agree, than to the other, because heere onely Irascibilis invadeth and impugneth, and not affecteth or desireth, as in the other. And thus much concerning this division. How many Passions there are coveting, and how many invading, in the next Chapter shalbe declared.

The division and number of Passions of the Minde. CHAP. VI.

THomas Aquinas, with the troupe of Tho­mists affirmeth, that all the Passions of our Minde be no more than eleaven: Sixe he placeth in the coveting appetite; and five in the invading: The first sixe are, love, desire, or concu­piscence; delight, or pleasure; and three opposite to these, hatred, abhomination, sadnesse, or paine. The latter five are, hope, and despaire, feare, and audacitie, the fift is ire. This number may be declared by experi­ence, and approoved with reason: the experience is common (welnie) in all beasts, but most evident in the [Page 23] wolfe, and the sheepe: First, the wolfe loveth the flesh of the sheepe, then he desireth to have it, thirdly, he re­ioyceth in his prey when he hath gotten it: Contrari­wise, the sheepe hateth the woolfe, as an evill thing in himselfe, and thereupon detesteth him, as hurtfull to herselfe; and finally, if the woolfe seize vpon her, shee paineth and grieveth to become his prey: thus we have love, desire, delight, hatred, abhomination, griefe, or heavinesse, the sixe passions of our coveting appetite.

But now, put case the Woolfe should see the shep­heard about his flocke, armed with a guard of dogges, then the Woolfe fearing the difficulty of purchasing his prey, yet thinking the event, though doubtfull, not im­possible, then he erecteth himselfe with the passion of Hope, perswading him the sheepe shall be his futureHope. spoyle after the conquest: and thereupon contemning the dogges, despising the shepheard, not weighing his hooke, crooke, stones, or rurall instrumentes of warre, with a bolde and audacious courage, not regardingBoldnesse. any daunger, hee setteth vpon the flocke; where, in the first assault, presently a mastife pincheth him by the legge; the iniurie he imagineth ought not to be tollera­ted: but immediatly inflamed with the passion of Ire,Ire. procureth by all meanes possible to revenge it: the shepheard protecteth his dogge, and basteth the woolfe (as his presumption deserved.) The woolfe perceiving himselfe weaker than he imagined, & his enemies stron­ger than he conceyved, falleth sodainely into the passion of Feare, (as braggers doe, who vaunt much at the be­ginning,Feare. but quaile commonly in the midle of the fray) yet not abandoned of all hope of the victory; therefore he stirreth vp himselfe, and proceedeth forward; but in [Page 24] fine, receyving more blowes of the shepheard, more woundes of the dogges, awearied with fighting, fea­ring his life, thinking the enterprise impossible, oppres­sed with the passion of Desperation, resolveth himselfe,Desperation. that his heeles are a surer defence, than his teeth, and so runneth away. By this example wee may collect the o­ther five passions of the invading appetite, hope, bold­nesse or presumption, anger or ire, feare and despe­ration.

Aristotle reduceth all passions to pleasure and payne:Arist. 2. E [...]h. cap. 3. for as we see (sayth hee) there is no wickednesse men will not attempt for pleasures; so wee trye many to bee deterred from the study of vertue, onely for the feare of paine. Some other moderne Philosophers ayming (almost at the same marke) distinguish in generall, all Passions into two members, that is, some consist in pro­secuting, procuring, or getting of some good thing pro­fitable vnto them: others, in flying, or eschewing some ill thing that might annoy them. I sayde they aymed, almost both at one marke, because, who prosecuteth any obiect that conduceth to his nature, receyveth thereby pleasure, as the thirstie desireth drinke, and drinke affordeth pleasure, so he that shunneth any thing disconvenient to nature, shunneth consequently payne, which concomitateth such disagreeing obiects, as a dog that flyeth from a stone cast at him. With these two di­visions consenteth the third, that all Passions may be di­stinguished by the dilatation, enlargement, or diffusion of the heart: and the contraction, collection, or com­pression of the same: for (as afterward shall bee decla­red in all Passions) the heart is dilated or coarcted more or lesse. Many more wayes they may be distinguished, [Page 25] but the best, and most easie division I take this to be, these which I will set downe, explicated after this ma­ner: First, all our Passions eyther tend to some good, or fly some evill; if they tende to good, and prosecute it, then the good prosecuted may bee considered in three maners; absolutely in it selfe, and so we have the passi­on of love; or as of vs to be possessed and enioyed, and so we have the passions of Desire and Hope: and if it bee vehement, it incourageth men to attempt many difficulties, & often to be more bold than wise. Third­ly, if the thing desired be present, and possessed, then riseth vp the passion of Pleasure and Delight: so that our affections are carryed to good thinges, eyther ab­solutely, future, or present; for good thinges passed, although they often stirre in a man, pleasure, yet they are conceyved, after a sorte, of presence; either, be­cause they were acceptfull to God then, and so please him yet; or for the present testimony of a good con­science, for the precedent vertuous actions; or finally, for the credite, honour, and glory, which remayneth with those who were witnesses of our good behaviour and godly proceedings.

If our Passions eschew evill, eyther absolutely, by hatred, or some future evill by feare, or some present evill, by pensiuenesse and sadnesse. And vnto these six, love, desire, pleasure, hatred, feare and sadnesse, all or­dinate and inordinate Passions may easily be reduced, as in every particular Treatise shal be declared. Never­thelesse, I can not but allowe that common division of Thomas Aquinas, admitted by schol [...]sticall Doctours as very convenient, because in very deede, wee proove some notable differences in so many passions; howbeit, [Page 26] not essentiall, but accidentall: yet (in my iudgement) this I have betaken mee to, ought to bee preferred, as more easie to be perceyued, more expedient to be de­clared, and more methodicall to bee remembred. Be­sides, if every diversity or change we finde in passions, were a sufficient reason to encrease their number, with­out doubt I could adde welnie eleven more; as, Mer­cy, Shamefastnesse, Excandescencie, Envy, Emulation, Anxitie, Confidence, Slouthfulnesse, Zelotypia, Ex­animation, Iactation or Boasting, with many more. And if you answere, that these may bee included in those eleaven, as inferior Species in their superiours; even so say I, those five that Thomas Aquinas putteth in the invading appetite, I can reduce to those sixe I have set downe as members thereunto belonging.

The seate, place, and subiect of the Passions of the Minde. CHAP. VII.

FIrst, it cannot bee doubted of, but that the passions of our mindes worke diuers effects in our faces; wherefore a Poet sayd wisely:

O quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu!

How hard is it, a fault with face not to bewray.

And to the same effect sayd Salomon, In facie pruden­tis Prouerb. 17. [Page 27] lucet sapientia, oculi stultorum in finibus terrae: In the face of a wise man Wisedome shineth: the eyes of fooles in the limittes of the land. And in another place, Cor hominis immutat faciem, sive in bona, sive in mala: Eccles. 13. 26. The heart of a man changeth his countenance, whe­ther it be in good or evill: for in anger and feare we see men, eyther extreame pale, or high coloured; in me­lancholy and sadnesse, the eyes are heavy; in ioy and pleasure, the motions of the eyes are lively and plea­sant, according to the olde proverbe, Cor gaudens exhi­lerat Proverb. [...]. faciem, a reioycing heart maketh merry the face. And questionlesse wise men often, thorowe the win­dowes of the face, behold the secrets of the heart, ac­cording to that saying of Salomon, Quomodo in aquis Prou. 27. 1 [...]. resplendent vultus prospicientium, sic corda hominum mani­festa sunt prudentibus: as the faces of those which looke into waters shine vnto them, so the heartes of men are manifest vnto the wise: not that they can exactly vn­derstand the heartes which bee inscrutable, and onely open vnto God, but that by coniectures they may aime well at them: for as he which beholdeth his face in the water, doth not discerne it exactly, but rather a sha­dowe, than a face; even so he, that by externall phi­siognomy and operations, will divine what lyeth hid­den in the heart, may rather conceive an image of that affection that doth raigne in the minde, than a perfite and resolute knowledge: yet doubtlesse this small sha­dow may help much Superiors or Examiners to trace out divers matters, and get light of the secrets of mens affections, as Alexander the great, endued with this ex­perience once prooved, who after hee had wonne the citie of Tarson, belonging to Darius, entring vpon a [Page 28] hote summers day, naked into the river Cydmus, andQu [...]ntu [...] Cur­tius lib. 3. thereby catching a vehement ag [...]w, insomuch that hee could not proceede against his enemies, which then were very neere: wherefore he resolved himselfe to take some vehement medicine, that presently should eyther amend him, or end him. An ancient Physition, which from his youth had alwayes attended vppon him, cal­led Philip of Acarnon, promised that he would prepare him such a potion: the matter was concluded; but whilest the Physition prepared the medicine, Parmenio a captaine, whom Alexander of all others loved, and trusted most, vnderstanding Alexanders determination, sent him a letter; disswading him, by all meanes, not to deale with the potion of Philip, because he vnderstood he was corrupted by Darius, Alexanders enemy, with promise of a thousand talents, and his sister in marriage, that he should kill him: Alexander astonied with these newes, was cast into a woonderfull perplexitie; Shall I adventure, thought he, to drinke this medicine? What if it be poyson? Shall I not then be accounted the cause of mine owne death? Shall I suspect the fidelitie of my Physition? Or shall I suffer my enemy to kill me in my bedde? While he was in this deliberation, the Physitian brought him the potion. When the King sawe him, he raysed himselfe vpon his elbow, and taking his letter in his left hand, with the other hand hee tooke the cuppe, and strait supped it off: when he had done so, hee deli­vered the letter to Philip to reade, and whilest hee was reading, he beheld him continually in the face, suppo­sing that if hee had bin faulty, some token would have appeared in his countenance: when Philip had read the letter, he shewed more tokens of displeasantnesse, than [Page 29] of feare: the which, with the loving words of the Phy­sitian, assured Alexander of his servants fidelity, and caused him, not onely to reiect all feare of death, but al­so to conceyve an extrarodinary hope of amendment, as indeede not long after it proved. By this example, su­periours may learne to coniecture the affections of their subiectes mindes, by a silent speech pronounced in their very countenances. And this poynt especially may bee observed in women, whose passions may easily be disco­vered; sor as harlots by the light and wanton motions of their eyes and gestures may quickely be marked, so honest matrons, by their grave and chaste lookes, may soone be discerned. To which effect the Spose sayd vn­to his Spouse, Vulnerasti cor meum in vno oculorum tuo­rum, Cantic. 4. 9. Thou hast wounded my heart with one of thine eyes: because, thorow the window of her eye, hee be­held the chastitie of her heart. By this wee may knowe the cause, why children, and epsecially women, cannot abide to looke in their fathers, masters, or betters faces, because, even nature it selfe seemeth to teach them, that thorowe their eyes they see their heartes; neyther doe we holde it for good manners, that the inferiour should fixe his eyes vpon his superiors countenance; and the reason is, because it were presumption for him to at­tempt the entrance or privy passage into his superiors minde, as contrariwise it is lawful for the superior to at­tempt the knowledge of his inferior. The Scriptures also teach vs, in the face of a harlot, to reade the impu­ritie of her heart. Mulieris fornicati [...] in extollentia oculo­rum, Eccles. 26. & in palpebris illius agnoscetur. The fornication of a woman shall be knowen by the lifting vp of her eyes, and in her eye-bries.

Hereby also we may perceyve the cause of blushing, for that those that have committed a fault, & are there­in deprehended, or at least imagine they are thought to have committed it; presently, if they be, Candidae na­turae, that is, of an honest behaviour, and yet not much grounded in vertue, they blush, because nature beeing afrayd▪ lest in the face the fault should be discovered, sendeth the purest blood, to be a defence and succour, the which effect, commonly, is iudged to proceede from a good and vertuous nature, because no man can but allowe, that it is good to bee ashamed of a fault. And thus to conclude, we must confesse, that Passions have certayne effectes in our faces; howbeit some doe shew them more evidently than others. Yet wee may not say, that this face is the roote and kore where the Passions reside, but onely the rhinde and leaves, which shew the nature and goodnesse of both the roote and the kore.

That there are Passions in the reasonable soule. CHAP. VIII.

NOw that we have determined how the Passi­ons must dwell in an other soyle than the face; the order of methode requireth wee should wade deeper into the soule, to view, if in the reasonable part, we might finde out their habita­tion. And to be briefe in this poynt, I thinke it cannotThree causes why there bee affections in the will, like those which reside in the sensitiue ap­petite. [Page 31] be douted vpon, but that there are some affections in the highest and chiefest part of the soule, not vnlike to the Passions of the Minde: for to God the Scriptures ascribe love, hate, ire, zeale, who cannot be subiect to any sensitive operations: And therefore, as in him they are perfections, and we are commaunded, and may imi­tate him in them, there is no reason why they should be denyed vnto vs, in such sort as they be perfite, and that is principally in the Will.

Besides, we know most certaynely, that our sensitive appetite cannot love, hate, feare, hope, &c. but that by imagination; or our sensitive apprehension we may con­ceyve; for, Malum amare possumus, incognitum vero a­mare non possumus: wee may love an ill thing, but wee cannot love an vnknowne thing: nowe experience tea­cheth vs, that men doe feare the iudgements of God, they love him, and hope in him, they hate sinne, and finally, exercise many notable affections, which reason prescribeth, and whereunto the sensitive apprehension ascendeth not: Furthermore, as beneath shall be decla­red, the sensitive appetite often, yea and (for the most part) traleth and haleth the will to consent and follow her pleasures and delights, even for the same reason that she pretendeth the: as for example, (I would to God it were not true) howe oft yeeldeth the will to the appe­tite, in procuring sensuall pleasures and pastimes, for no other ende, than to pleasure the vnpleasable appetites, and lustes of the flesh? this, experience more pregnant­ly prooveth it, than any reason can confirme it: finally, as our witte vnderstandeth whatsoever our senses per­ceive, even so our will may affect whatsoever out passi­ons doe follow: for as the obiect of the wit is all trueth, [Page 32] teall, or apparant, so the obiect of our will is all good­nesse indeede, or carrying the glosse thereof. Never­thelesse I must confesse that these affections which re­side in the will, differ much in nature and qualitie from those that inhabite the inferior partes of the soule, be­cause, these being bredde and borne in the highest part of the soule, are immateriall, spirituall, independant of any corporall subiect; but those of the sensitive appe­tite, are materiall, corporall, and depending vpon some bodily instruments, as beneath shall be delivered.

That the heart isc the peuliar place where that Passions allodge. CHAP. IX.

NO Philosopher can deny, but that our Passions are certayne acci­dents and qualities, whose imme­diate subiect, house, and lodging is the very facultie and power of the soule, because all vitall opera­tions (of which sort Passions are) challenge, by right, that the mo­ther which hatched them, should also sustayne them, and harbour them in her owne house. But a question may be demaunded, and not easily resolved, whether the faculty of our sensitive appetite hath allotted vnto it some peculiar part of the body, where shee exerciseth [Page] her proper functions and operations: for, as wee see by experience, the facultie of seeing, the power of hea­ring, the sense of smelling, tasting, and touching, have assigned vnto them divers corporall instruments, habi­tations or seates, wherein they see, heare, smell, taste and touch; as eyes, eares, nose, tongue, flesh and sinewes: nowe the question propounded is thus to bee vnder­stood, whether may there be determined any Parte of the bodie, wherein peculiarly the passions of the minde are effected. To which question I answere, that the ve­ry seate of all Passions, is the hearte, both of men and beastes: divers reasons move me to this opinion. First, the very common experience, men trie daily and houre­ly in themselves, for who loveth extreamely, and fee­leth not that passion to dissolve his hearte? who reioy­ceth, and proveth not his heart dilated? who is moy­led with heavinesse, or plunged with payne, and percei­veth not his heart to bee coarcted? whom inflameth ire, and hath not heart-burning? By these experiences, wee proove in our hearts the working of Passions, and by the noyse of their tumult, wee vnderstande the woorke of their presence. The second reason is, because as our sensitive apprehension hath her seate in the brayne (for we all proove, that in vnderstanding, we especially bend the force of our soule to the former part thereof) so the affections and passions, in proportionate manner, must have some corporall organ and instrument, and what more convenient than the heart? for, as the brayne fit­teth best, for the softnesse and moysture, to receyve the formes and prints of obiects for vnderstanding; even so the heart endued with most fiery spirites, fitteth best for affecting. Lastly, for what other reason, in feare and an­ger [Page 34] become men so pale and wanne, but that the blood runneth to the heart, to succour it?

I saw once in Genoa, a Bandite condemned to death, and going to Execution, to tremble so extraordinarily, that he needed two to support him all the way, and for all that he shivered extreamely. Besides, whence-from proceedeth laughter, dauncing, singing, and many such externall singes of ioy, but (as wee say) from a merrie heart? therefore ioy and feare dwell in the heart. How­beit, I thinke this most true, and especially in those pas­sions, which are about obiectes absent, as love, hatred, hope, flight, ire, and such like; yet I cannot but con­fesse, that when the obiectes are present, and possessed by sense, then the passions inhabite, not onely the heart, but also are stirred vp in every part of the body, where­as any sensitive operation is exercised; for if wee taste delicate meates, smell muske, or heare musicke, we per­ceyve, notonely that the heart is affected, but that also the passion of ioy delighteth those partes of our sences: the like wee prove in payne and griefe, for which cause commonly wee say, our teeth ake, our fingers, toes, or legges payne vs: Payne therefore, and Pleasure, beeing Passions of the Minde, and evermore felt in that part of the bodie, where Sense exerciseth her operations: there­fore, as touching is dispersed thorow the whole bodie, even so the Passions of pleasure and payne; for in eve­rie parte, if it bee cherished, it reioyceth, if be hurte, it payneth.

Yet supposing the Passions principally reside in the hearte, as wee perceyve by the concourse of humours thereunto, wee may demaund two curious questions. The former is, for what ende hath Nature given this al­teration [Page 35] or flocking of humours to the hearte? It see­meth, questionlesse, for some good ende; for God and Nature worke not by chaunce, or without respecting some benefite of the subiect.

To the which question it may bee answered; First,Why humors flocke to the heart in passions. that the humours concurre to helpe, dispose, and enable the heart to worke such operations: for as we prove by experience, if a man sleepe with open eyes, although his sight be marvellous excellent, yet he seeth nothing, because in sleepe, the purer spirites are recalled into the inner partes of the body, leaving the eyes destitute of spirits, and abandoned of force, which presently in wa­king returne againe: euen so I conceive, the heart, pre­pared by nature to digest the blood sent from the liver, yet for divers respectes, not to have the temperature which all Passions require; for love will have heate, and sadnesse colde, feare constringeth, and pleasure dilateth; the heart therefore which was to bee subiect to such di­versities of Passions, by Nature was deprived of all such contrary dispositions, as the Philosophers say, that Ma­teria prima caret omni forma, quia omnes formas recipere debet. And, although the hearte hath more excesse of heate than colde, yet a little melancholly blood may quickly change the temperature, and render it more apt for a melancholly Passion; The second reason may be, for that these humours affecting the heart, cause payne or pleasure, thereby inviting Nature, to prosecute the good that pleaseth, and to flie the evill that annoyeth: as in the Common-wealth, Vertue ought to be rewarded with preferment, and vice to be corrected with punish­ment; even so in this little common-wealth of our bo­dies, actions conformable to Nature, are repayde with [Page] pleasure, and passions disconsorting nature, punished with payne.

The other question concerneth the efficient cause of these humours, what causeth their motions to the heart; they themselves, as it were, flie vnto the heart? or the parte where they soiourned, sendeth or expelleth them from her, and so for common refuge they runne to the heart? or finally, the heart draweth them vnto it? This difficultye requireth an answere, whereby many such like questions may bee resolved: as for example, when the meate in our stomackes is sufficiently disgested, the chile which there remayneth, prepared to be sent to the liver for a further concoction; doth it ascend thither by it selfe, as vapours to the head? or doth the stomacke ex­pell it? or the liver drawe and sucke it?

To this demaund I answere, that (in mine opinion) the partes from whence these humours come, vse their expulsive vertue, sending the spirites choler, or blood, to serve the heart in such necessity, as the hand lifteth vp it selfe to defend the head: howbeit, I doubt not, but the heart also affected a little with the passion, draweth more humors, & so encreaseth. Many more curious ob­iections here I omit, which perhaps would delight the more subtil wits, but hardly of many to be conceived.

What sort of persons be most passionate. CHAP. X.

OVt of the precedent Chapter we may ga­ther, how that the heart is the seate of our passions, that spirites and humours con­curre with them: here we may deduce a conclusion most certayne and profitable, that according to the disposition of the heart, humours, and body, divers sortes of persons be subiect to divers sortes of passions, and the same passion affecteth divers persons in divers manners: for, as we see fire applyed to drie wood, to yron, to flaxe, and gunpowder, worketh divers wayes; for in wood it kindleth with some diffi­culty, and with some difficulty is quenched; but in flaxe soone it kindleth, and quencheth; in yron with great difficulty is it kindled, and with as great extingui­shed; but in gunpowder it is kindled in a moment, and never can bee quenched till the powder be consumed. Some men you shall see, not so soone angrie, nor yet soone pleased, and such be commonly fleugmatike per­sons; others you have, soone angrie, soone friended, as those of a sanguine complexion, and therefore com­monly they are called good fellowes: others be hardly offended, and afterward, with extreame difficulty re­conciled, as melancholy men: others are all fiery, and in a moment, at every trifle they are inflamed, and, till their heartes be consumed (almost) with choller, they never cease, except they be revenged. By this we may confirme that olde saying to be true, Animi mores cor­poris [Page 38] temperaturam sequ [...]ntur, the manners of the soule followe the temperature of the body. And, as in mala­dies of the body, every wise man feeleth best his owne griefe; euen so, in the diseases of the soule, every one knoweth best his owne inclination: neverthelesse, as Physitions commonly affirme, how there be certayne vniversall causes which incline our bodies to divers in­firmities; so there are certayne generall causes, which move our soules to sundry passions. First, young men generally are arrogant, prowde, prodigall, incontinent, given to all sortes of pleasure. Their pride proceedeth from lacke of experience; for they will vaunt of their strength, beautie, and wittes, because they have not yet tryed sufficiently, how farre they reach, how frayle they are; therefore they make more account of them, than in very deede they ought to be esteemed. Their prodi­gality is caused by confidence they have in their owne strength and abilitie, whereby they thinke they shall be able to get more; contrariwise, both olde men, and wo­men are consecrated to covetousnes, because the weake­nesse of their bodies promiseth them no such force, as they may be inabled to gather much more: and there­fore you shall finde, that old women, where both weak­nesse of sexe, and feeblenesse of body concurre toge­ther, to be most addicted to avarice.

Yoong mens incontinencie, boldenesse, and confi­dence proceedeth of heat which aboundeth in them, and those, whose complexions are hotest, are most subiect to these affections. They extreamely affect plea­sures, because they spent (as boyes) almost the time of growth in getting of habites, alluring and haling to pleasure; for commonly wee see all sortes of boyes, till [Page 39] they come to the vse of reason and discretion, most addicted to pastimes and playes. Besides, heate woulde be easily extinguished in youth, if they did not mode­rately exercise it in time of growth, for that the moyst­nesse of their bodies, and superfluous humors woulde otherwise hardly be consumed: And I haue seene di­vers youthes too much brideled, and therefore broken: yet immoderat pastimes inflameth their blood, and causeth agews, and death. Youth also are inconstant, and rarely persist long in one purpose, partely occasio­ned (as I thinke) by many alterations of their bodies, which easily will chaunge their mindes; and partely helped with the lacke of a ripe resolution, and firme iudgement, because, as daily they varie in opinions, so daily they alter their determinations.

Olde men are subiect to sadnesse, caused by coldnesse of bood: to suspect ill, by reason of long experience, wherein they haue often beene deceived; to lament, to bee fastidious, teastie, froward, and neuer conten­ted, for that ipsa senectus morbus est, Olde age is a perpe­tuall sickenesse: wherefore, as sicke men are ever wri­ning, so olde men are never satisfied. They are accusto­med to be obstinate in their owne opinions, because many of them condemne yoong men of lacke of expe­rience and practise, imagining that learning and wis­dome should harbour vnder a night-cappe. Herevpon groweth a certaine spirit of contempt, whereby they despise the yonger sort: and as travellers, for the most part, relate mountaines of marvelles, that they haue seene and heard in forraine countries, so olde men re­count wonders they see and heard in passed ages. An­olde verse also is too well verified in many old men.

Sordities, irae, nummorum copia mira
His natura senis tribus est infectu venenis.
Filth, avarice, and pettish rage,
These poysons three infect old age.

Women, by nature, are enclined more to mercie and pitie than men, because the tendernesse of their com­plexion moveth them more to compassion. They sur­passe men also in pietie and devotion; or as they ac­knowledge their weakenesse, and vnablenesse to resist adversities, or any other iniurie offered, so they have occasion to recurre vnto God, by whose goodnesse they may be protected. Neyther are they so prone to incontinency as men, for lacke of heate, and for a na­tive shamefastnesse: yet foure passions greatly possesse them; pride, for beautie, or some finall sparke of wit, [...]ix est mulier it a turpu, aut senio consecta; quae non gaudet & libenter au­diat, si dicatur esse pulchra. Hieron. in epist. which indeede, for lacke of witte, they prize more then right reason requireth, but selfe-love maketh a little to bee much esteemed, where no better can bee had. Envie also the daughter of pride, for the most parte, carieth the traines of women, whereby they are greeved at their equalles good proceeding: Whence­from springeth an other passion to them too naturall, but to many pernicious; for envy causeth them to whet their tongues to kill their neighbors same with detrac­tion. The fourth most protrite and manifest vnto the worlde, is their Inconstancie, according to that aunci­ent verse:

Quid levius fumo? flamen,
quid flamine? ventus,
Quid vento? mulier,
quid muliere? nihil.

The which in English may thus be translated:

What lighter is than smoke? the flame,
then flame? the winde:
Then wind? a woman, more
than her nothing I finde.

This Inconstancie principally springeth from the same roote, that the instabilitie of yoong men issueth from, that is, lacke of prudence and iudgement in their determinations; for wise men doe not resolve them­selues verie quickely, but with great consideration and deliberation, and therefore they expend well the cir­cumstances and impediments, which may occurre and hinder that they resolved to doe. But yoong men and women, for the most part, resolve rashly and performe rarely, because that they concluded without maturity, and in the execution finde some impediments; for which of necessitie they must miscary: from this same vnpure fountayne descendes that endlesse talke daily frequented by women; for in halfe an houre five men will bee wearie with conference, and barren in matter, but three women will jangle, and never lacke new sub­iectes to discourse vpon.

Many things more might be sayde of this matter, but I finde all bookes and common places, so stuffed with these discourses, that I thought it superfluous to write any more, especially, for that I knowe, that women will be easily offended with those that dispraise them, as they will be woonderfully well pleased with those that commend them: yet they must pardon me, if [Page 42] with their good inclinations I shew the ill; if I say, commonly they be inclined to such passions, yet euery rule admitteth some exception; yea, if they be ill incli­ned, and refraine those affections, questionlesse, the greater is their commendation: for as the husbandman deserveth more praise, if he manure well a thornie soile than a fertile fielde; so that women ought more to bee prized, which is worst inclined, and best mortified.

Therefore to conclude, I am not of Senecaes opinion, that Mulier amat, aut odit, nihil est tertium, that a woman loveth, or hateth, and nothing is third; for although in some sorte of women, I holde it very probable, yet I cannot allow it to be common to all; for, onely women that bee of a hote complexion, and for the most parte, those that be blacke or browne, I take to be of that con­stitution, and indeede those have their affections most vehement, and perhappes, little women have a smacke thereof, according to our English Proverbe:

Faire and foolish, little and lowde,
Long and lazie, blacke and prowde.
Fatte, and merrie, leane, and sadde:
Pale, and pettish, redde and badde.

By which saying wee may gather, that howbeit wo­men, commonly, be subiect to the aforesayde passions, yet because diverse women have sundry complexions, so they bee subiect to sundry Passions. Even as in like sorte, I could say of men; for some are more proane to one Passion than an other, according to the Italian Pro­verbe:

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

That is,

If little men were patient,
And great men were valiant,
And red men were loyall,
All the world would be equall.

To this seemeth not vnlike an other olde saying of theirs.

From a white Spaniard,
A blacke Germaine,
And a red Italian,
Liber [...]nos Domine.

And we in English.

To a red man, reade thy reed:
With a browne man breake thy bread:
At a pale man draw thy knife:
From a blacke man keepe thy wife.

The which we explicate after this sort.

The redde is wise,
The browne trustie,
The pale peevish,
The blacke lustie.

By which auncient Proverbes may be collected the verity of the assertion set downe, that divers complexi­ons [Page 44] are inclined to divers passions, and in generall I take them to be very true, and verified in the most part, for that the same causes which concurre to the framing of such a constitution, serve also to the stirring vp of such a passion: as for example, a little man having his heate so vnited and compacted together, and not dispersed into so vast a carkasse as the great man, therefore he, by temperature, possesseth more spirits, and by them be­commeth more nimble, lively, chollericke, hastie and impatient.

Many more discourses I could deliver about this subiect, but indeede it requireth a whole booke; for I might declare, what Passions they are subiect vnto, whom Nature monstrously hath signed, what affecti­ous rule Rustickes, possesse Cittizens, tyrannize over Gentlemen; which are most frequented in adversity, and which in prosperity: I might discourse over Flem­mings, Frenchmen, Spaniardes, Italians, Polans, Ger­manes, Scottishmen, Irishmen, Welchmen, and En­glishmen, explicating their nationall inclinations good or bad: but every one of these exacteth a whole Chap­ter; and perhaps some of them more prowd, than wise, would be offended with the trueth; for this passion of Pride over-ruleth all the children of Adam: for we see very few will confesse their owne faultes, and then they thinke their reputation disgraced, when they are singled from the rest, and condemned of some vice: thereforeSee Ler [...]nu [...] Lem [...]ius de complexion lui they must of force have it, although they will not heare it. Thus I will ende this matter, referring the Reader to the next bookes, where handling the passions in parti­cular, I shall have occasion more in particular to touch this vniversall subiect.

The manner how Passions are mooved. CHAP. XI.

AS the motions of our Passions are hidde from our eyes, so they are hard to bee perceived; yet for the speculation of this matter, I thinke it most necessary, to declare the way and ma­ner of them; the which will give light, not onely to all the Discourses following, but also to all the Chapters preceding,: First then, to our imagination commeth, by sense or memorie, some obiect to be knowne, con­venient or disconvenient to Nature, the which beeing knowne (for Ignoti nulla cupido) in the imagination which resideth in the former part of the braine, (as we proove) when we imagine any thing, presently the pu­rer spirites flocke from the brayne, by certayne secret channels to the heart, where they pitch at the doore, sig­nifying what an obiect was presented, convenient or disconvenient for it. The heart immediatly bendeth, either to prosecute it, or to eschewe it: and the better to effect that affection, draweth other humours to helpe him, and so in pleasure concurre great store of pure spi­rites; in payne and sadnesse, much melancholy blood, in ire, blood and choller; and not onely (as I sayde) the heart draweth, but also the same soule that informeth the heart residing in other partes, sendeth the humours vnto the heart, to performe their service in such a woor­thie place: In like maner as when we feele hunger (cau­sed by the sucking of the liver and defect of nourish­ment in the stomacke) the same soule which informeth [Page 47] the stomacke, resideth in the hand, eyes, and mouth; and in case of hunger, subordinateth them all to serve the stomacke, and satisfie the appetite thereof: Even so, in the hunger of the heart, the splene, the liver, the blood spirites, choller, and melancholy, attende and serve it most diligently.

By this manifestly appeareth, that we insinnuated in the last Chapter, howe the diversities of complexions wonderfully increase or diminish Passions: for, if the i­magination bee very apprehensive, it sendeth greater store of spirites to the heart, and maketh greater impres­sion: likewise, if the heart be very hote, colde, moyst, tender, cholericke; sooner, and more vehemently it is stirred to Passions thereunto proportionated; finally, if one abound more with one humour than another, he sendeth more fewell to nourish the Passi­on, and so it continueth the lon­ger, and the stronger. ⸪

The second Booke wherein are declared foure effects of inordinate Passions.

AFter the declaration of the foure causes of our Passions, formall, materiall, efficient, and finall; the order of methode requireth wee shoulde entreate of their effectes and proprieties. And heere I must speake specially of inordinate pas­sions, because, although those which be ordinate, participate in parte, some of those effectes, yet for that the inordinate principally cause them, therefore I thought good to sette them downe, as more necessary, and that by them coniecture be made of the rest.

There be foure proprieties consequent to inordi­nate Passions; blindenesse of vnderstanding, perversi­on of will, alteration of humours; and by them, mala­dies and diseases, and troublesomnesse or disquietnesse of the soule. The first proprietie I meane to handle in this Chapter, the other, in the three next following.

Passions blinde the Iudgement. CHAP. 1.

WIse men confesse, and ignorant men prove, that Passions blind their iudge­ments and reason: for (as Saint Basil saide) Quemadmodum oculis turbatis, Basil psal &c. 23. 1. &c. As when the eyes are troubled, wee can not perceive exactly the ob­iects of our sight; even so, when the heart is troubled, no man can come by the knowledge of trueth: the which similitude Saint Chrysostome declareth more apt­ly,Chrysost. hom. 1. in Iohan. Sicat oculorum acies, &c. As the facultie of our eyes, being pure and bright, it laboureth nothing to depre­hend the least moaths, but if an evill humour descende from the head, or some darkenesse fall vpon the eyes, a dimme cloude is cast before the pearles thereof, which permitteth them not to see, even grosse blockes: So it befalleth to the soule, when every inordinate affection is purged that might offend her, shee seeth all thinges convenient most aptly, but being troubled with many affections, all that vertue shee leeseth; neyther can shee behold any high thing. To the authoritie of these Fa­thers, experience agreeth, for I never knewe any man troubled with a vehement passion of hatred, ire, or love, who would not bring many reasons to confirme his purpose, although after he had performed his pleasure, and the tempestuous passion was past, hee condemned himselfe, and thought his fact vitious, and his reasons [Page 49] frivolous. The which experience teacheth vs, that men (for the most parte) are not very good iudges in their owne causes, specially for the Passion of Love, which blindeth their iudgement; for which, Nathan propoun­ded to David his owne fault, as another mans case; how the rich man, by force, bereaved the poore man of his sheepe, having so many of his owne, because he knew, that Davids iudgement, in his owne cause, might easily be corrupted: the selfesame did the good woman The­cuites to David, for the recalling of Absolon: And in­deede the Passions, not vnfittely may bee compared to greene spectacles, which make all thinges resemble the colour of greene; even so, he that loveth, hateth, or by any other passion is vehemently possessed, iudgeth all things that occurre in favour of that passion, to be good and agreeable with reason, so there scarse can be found any man that hateth, or is angry with an other, but hee thinketh his hatred and ire to be most iust and reasona­ble: for in very deede, while the Passion is afloate, the execution and performance thereof, is conformable and very convenient vnto our beastly sensuall appetite, and therefore all beastes stinged by such passions, presently proceede vnto execution, but men having vnited in the same sensitive soule, reason and discourse, are bound, both by the lawe of Nature, and commaundement of God, divers times to represse and resist such vnreasona­ble and beastly motions. Yet I know some subtill witte would gladly vnderstand how it commeth to passe, that vehement passions so vndermine the iudgement, and suborne it to give sentence in favour of them: for, why may not the passion, beeing in the hearte, and inferior parte of the soule, permitte the higher portion, the tri­bunall [Page 50] seate of Reason alone, without trouble or mole­station; as we see by experience, that fire being drie and hotte by nature, although it heateth, yet that hindereth not the drying; so, why may not the witte iudge aright, howbeit the passion affecteth a wrong?

To this obiection three reasons may be rendered. The first I have largely delivered in my third Booke of the Ioyes of heaven: and in summe, this is the substance. Our soule being of a determinate power and activitie, cannot attend exactly to twoo vehement and intensive operations together: as for example, wee cannot attend perfectly to sweete musicke, perceive daintie smelles, or taste delicate meate, all three, or twoo of them at one time, either for lacke of spirites, or in regarde of the limitted influence of the soule, which cannot impart sufficient activitie to such intensive operations: where­fore the soule being possessed of a vehement passion, her force is so exhausted in that action, that if shee will continue therein, shee can not exactly consider the reasons which may disswade her from attending or following such affections: the passion therefore which hindereth and stopp [...]th the eyes of the vnderstanding from the consideration of those meanes which might moove the mind to withdrawe it selfe from that action, may well bee saide to blinde the witte, as hee which shutteth another mans eyes, maketh him blindefolde, not by taking away the power of seeing, but onely by hindering it from action.

The second reason is, not onely a privation of consi­deration of those thinges, which may extinguish the passion, but also an inforcement or constraint, onely to consider those motives or reasons which tend in favour [Page 51] of that passion: for although the mayne parte of the soules activitie bee haled away with the passion, yet there remaineth some sparks of light in the vnderstand­ing, to perceive what is represented vnto it, as when we heare sweete excellent musicke, we may perceyve some dainety smelles, howebeit, not in that perfection wee might, if our soules were not distracted with hearing; even so, some life is left to be imployed to vnderstan­ding, albeit not so great, because the soule is distracted with a Passion, the which inforceth the witte onely to consider, what may conduce to the continuation and preservation thereof: the manner may thus bee decla­red; for whatsoever we vnderstand, passeth by the gates of our imagination, the cosin germane to our sensitive appetite, the gates of our imagination being prevented, yea, and welnie shutte vp with the consideration of that obiect which feedeth the passion, and pleaseth the ap­petite; the vnderstanding looking into the imagination, findeth nothing almost but the mother and nurse of his passion for consideration, where you may well see how the imagination putteth greene spectacles before the eyes of our witte, to make it see nothing but greene, that is, serving for the consideration of the Passion.

Furthermore, the imagination representeth to the vnderstanding, not onely reasons that may favour the passion, but also it sheweth them very intensively, with more shew and apparance than they are indeede; for as the Moone, when she riseth or setteth; seemeth greater vnto vs, than indeede shee is, (because the vapours or clowdes are interposed betwixt our eyes and her) even so, the beauty and goodnesse of the obiect represented to our vnderstanding, appeareth fayrer and goodlier [Page 52] than it is, because a clowdy imagination interposeth a miste. And here it falleth foorth, as hee which is most studious, is best learned; and commonly, he that is best learned, is most studious: so, hee that once apprehen­deth the pleasure of the passion, ordinarily followeth it, and the passion increaseth the imagination thereof, and the stronger imagination rendreth the passion more ve­hement, so that oftentimes they enter but with an inch, and encrease an ell: whereupon ensueth, that a false i­magination corrupteth the vnderstanding, making it beleeve that thinges are better than they are in very deede. And by this meanes, the witte two wayes is troubled; first, in that the vehemency of the imagina­tion causeth a vehement apprehension and iudgement of the witte; secondarily, the false representation bree­deth a false conceite in the minde: and by these wee prove the imagination and passions to prevaile so migh­tily, that men, in great payne, or exceeding pleasure, can scarce speake, see, heare, or thinke of any thing, which concerneth not their passion.

And for this same cause, when wise men deale with any person wonderfully pensive, commonly they en­devour with reasons to diminish the cause of their griefe: as if a woman hath lost her onely sonne in wars; then to mittigate her sorrowe, they will shewe her, that death apprehendeth all men sooner or later; it is a tri­bute must bee payde; this worlde yeeldeth nothing but miserie; happier are they that depart from it, than those that enioy it; his death was glorious, for his Countrey, for his Prince, the which among valiant captaynes, and noble mindes, hath alwayes beene prized above tenne thousand lives; if he had dyed an infarnous death, for [Page 53] treason, for rapine, for iniustice, then shee might have iustly lamented; but in dying for iustice, for obedience, for vertue, with glory, she hath rather an exceeding oc­casion of ioy, than a motive of griefe. All which per­swasions (as you see) tende to no other ende, but to rectifie her iudgement, and to represent vnto the vnder­standing, those reasons which might rebate the passion of sorrowe, concealed from it, by the strong imagina­tion of all those things which might encrease her griefe. Besides, the vehemencie of the passion continueth the force of our imagination, because, whatsoever passeth by the gates of our senses, presently entreth into the court of our imagination, where the sensitive appetite doth entertaine it: therefore, seeing all passions cause some sence or feeling, more or lesse in the body, so long as they endure, the imagination likewise representeth to the vnderstanding, so long the obiect of the passion, and as a deceitfull Counsellor, corrupteth his Iudge.

The last reason, which importeth more then both the other, proceedeth from a naughty will, for that the soule, hauing rooted in it, these two partes, sensitive and reasonable: the will perceiving that the soule reioyceth, she also contenteth herselfe, that the inferior appetite should enioy her pleasure, or eschew her griefe, with rea­son, or against reason, she careth not, so she may be made partaker: as the great Turke permitteth every one to live in his Religion, so they pay him tribute. And for this cause she commandeth the witte to employ all the power and force, to finde out reasons and perswasions that all the appetite demaundeth, standeth with reason and is lawfull; the which collusion, I take to be one of the rootes of all mischiefes, that nowe cover the face of [Page 54] the world, that is, a wicked will commanding the wit, to finde out reasons to pleade for Passions: for this cor­rupteth, yea wholy destroyeth the remorce of consci­ence, the carefull gardian of the soule: this maketh men obstinate in all enormious vices; for when the witte is once perswaded, and no further appellation can be ad­mitted, then the soule is confirmed almost in malice; this maketh so many Atheists, for vinum & mulieres a­postatare Eccles. 19. faciunt sapientes, wine and women make men leave Religion: for as wine maketh men drunke, and robbeth the vse of reason; so inordinate love and affec­tion make drunke the soule, and deprive it of iudge­ment; this, in fine, robbeth soules from God, and car­rieth them to the divell. For if we examine exactly the groundes and origens of Apostasie from true fayth, and the causes of heresies, we shall finde them, to be some one or other wicked vice of the will, or vehement Passi­on which perverteth the iudgement, specially when the Religion forbiddeth or punisheth those vices, where­vnto the wicked will or Passions tend. S. Augustine re­lateth diuers, who denyed the tormentes of hell, and their Eternitie, thereby to flatter their vitious affectionsAug. lib. 1. de [...]. cap. 18. with a pretended assurance of impunitie. S. Chrysostome reporteth, that the arch-heretike Paulus Samosetanus, forChrysost. hom. 7. in Iohan. the love of a woman forsooke his fayth and religion. S. Gregorie the great imputeth it to avarice and cove­tousnesse, that many fall from their faith, or not admit a true faith: for the Iew that thirsteth after Vsury, will hardly admit Christianitie, which shutteth from theGregor. lib 20. moral. cap. 12. holy mount of Gods eternal blessednesse, all those that lende their money to Vsurie, as in the 14. Psalme is ma­nifest. Furthermore wee may aptly remonstrate, how [Page 55] inordinate Passions cause and ingenerate in the soule, all those vices which are opposite to prudence. The first is Precipitation, or Rashnesse, which is nothing else, butPrecipitation. an vncircumspect, or vnripe resolution or determinati­on in affaires or negotiations: for the iudgement being blinded with the Passion, considereth not exactly, for the importance of the businesse, those circumstances, which may withdraw it from the prosecution of such a vitious action. I remember that when I was in Italy, there was a Scottish Gentleman, of most rare and singu­lar partes, who was a Retainer to a Duke of that Coun­trey, hee was a singular good Scholler, and as good a Souldier; it chanced one night, the yong Prince, either vpon some spleene, or false suggestion, or to trie the Scots valour, mette him in a place where hee was wont to haunt, resolving eyther to kill, wound, or beate him, and for this effect, conducted with him, two of the best Fencers hee could finde, the Scot had but one friende with him; in fine, a quarrell is pickt, they all draw, the Scot presently ranne one of the Fencers thorow, and killed him in a trice, with that hee bended his forces to the Prince, who fearing, least that which was befallen his Fencer, might happen vpon himselfe, he exclaimed out instantly, that he was the Prince, and therefore wil­led him, to looke about him what he did: the Scot per­ceyving well what he was, fell downe vpon his knees, demaunding pardon at his handes, and gave the Prince his naked rapier, who no sooner had receyved it, but with the same sword he ranne him thorow to death: the which barbarous fact, as it was condemned of all men, so it sheweth the Precipitation of his passionate irefull heart: for if hee had considered the humble submission [Page 56] of his servant, and loyaltie of his subiect, and valour of his souldier; if he had weighed the cowardlinesse of his fact, the infamie that hee should thereby incurre, hee would never have precipitated into so savage an offence. But if with overmuch rashnesse a man contemne or de­spise any Lawe, preferring his passionate iudgement be­fore the prescript of lawe and reason, then his headdi­nesse is termed Temeritie.

The second vice is Inconstancie, which is a changeInconstancie. or alteration of that purpose or resolution, which a man had prudently determined before. And this we may daily try in al incontinent persons, who resolutely deter­mine in the calme of their passions never to fal into their former filthinesse, but presently, when the Passion ari­seth, all the good resolutions are forgotten, and that which an vnpassionate mind detested, a passionate soule most effectually pursueth. Not much vnlike that which David once writ of himselfe, Ego dixi in abundantia Psalme 29. mea, non movebor in aeternum: I sayde once in my abun­dance, or as the Calde text hath, in my tranquillitie, I will not be moved eternally: Avertisti nanum tuum, & factus sum conturbatus: Thou turnedst away thy hand, and I was troubled: as if he had sayde, thou per­mittedst me to be troubled with a Passion, and then my confident determination was changed.

The third vice against Prudence, groweth vpon ex­cesse of wicked consideration, as precipitation & incon­stancieAstutia or craftinesse. vpon the want or defect of circumspection. For the Passion delighting or afflicting the minde, causeth the iudgement to thinke, invent, devise all meanes possi­ble, eyther to enioy the Passion of delight, or to avoyde the molestation of sadnesse and feare. Wherefore Love [Page 57] is sayd to be Ingeniosissimus, most wittie; for the thought of such matters as concerneth love, continually deligh­ting the minde, and rolling daily and hourely in the fan­cie, suggesteth a worlde of conceites and inventions, to finde out meanes and wayes, to nourish, preserve, and increase the Passion, insomuch, as they which love ve­hemently, are never well, but eyther with them whom they love, or solitary by themselves, coyning some new practises, to execute their inordinate love and affections. No better proofe we neede of this matter, then the in­finite experiences in every Countrie are tryed. The same I may say of Ire, Ambition, &c. All which Passi­ons consisting in prosecution of some thing desired, and bringing with them a certaine sence of delight, enforce the mind [...] (for fostering and continuing that pleasure) to excogitate new meanes and wayes for the performance thereof.

How Passions seduce the Will. CHAP. II.

WIthout any great difficultie may be de­clared, how Passions seduce the Will: because the witte being the guide, theThe first rea­son why passi­ons seduce the will. eie the stirrer, and directer of the Wil, which of it selfe, beeing blinde, and without knowledge, followeth that the wit representeth, propoundeth, and approveth as [Page 58] good: and as the sensitive appetite followeth the directi­on of imagination; so the Will affecteth, for the most part, that, the vnderstanding perswadeth to bee best. Wherefore the waves and billowes of apparant reasons, so shake the sandye shealfe of a weake Will, that theyThe second reason. mingle it with them, and make all one. Besides, the sen­sitive appetite beeing rooted in the same soule with the Will, if it be drawne, or flieth from any obiect, conse­quently, the other must follow; even so, the obiect that haleth the sensitive appetite, draweth withall, the Will; and inclining her more to one part than another, dimi­nisheth her libertie and freedome.

Moreover, the Will, by yeelding to the Passion, re­ceyveth some little bribe of pleasure, the which moveth her, to let the bridle loose, vnto inordinate appetites, be­cause she hath ingrafted in her, two inclinations; the one to follow Reason, the other to content the Sences: and this inclination (the other beeing blinded by the cor­rupt iudgement, caused by inordinate Passions) here she feeleth satisfied. Finally, the Will, being the governesseThe third reason. of the Soule, and loathing to bee troubled with much dissention among her subiectes, as an vncarefull Magi­strate neglecteth the good of the Common-weale, to avoyde some particular mens displeasure; so the Will, being afrayde to displease sense, neglecteth the care she ought to have over it; especially perceyving that the Soule thereby receyveth some interest of pleasure, or escheweth some payne.

By this alteration which Passions worke in the Witte and the Will, we may vnderstand the admirable Meta­morphosis and change of a man from himselfe, when his affectes are pacified, and when they are troubled. [Page 59] Plutarch sayde they changed them like Circes potions,Plutarch in moralib. from men into beastes. Or we may compare the Soule without Passions, to a calme Sea, with sweete, pleasant, and crispling streames; but the Passionate, to the raging Gulfe, swelling with waves, surging by tempests, mina­cing the stony rockes, and endevouring to overthrowe Mountaines: even so, Passions make the Soule to swell with pride and pleasure; they threaten woundes, death and destruction, by audacious boldnesse and ire: they vndermine the mountaines of Vertue, with hope and feare; and in summe, never let the Soule be in quietnes, but ever, eyther flowing with Pleasure, or ebbing with Payne.

How Passions alter the Body. CHAP. III.

ALthough in the ninth Chapter sufficient­ly was declared, how the Passions of the minde alter the humours of the body, yet some peculiar discourses, concer­ning that matter, were reserved for this place.

Two sortes of Passions affect all men, some (as wee sayde before) dilate, and some compresse and restringe the heart: Of the first was sayd, Vita carninum est cordis Proverb. 14. 3 [...] sanitas, the life of flesh, is the health of heart; for indeed, a ioyfull and quiet heart reviveth all the partes of the [Page 60] body: Of the other was written, Spiritus tristis exsiccat prb. 17. ossa: a sadde Spirit dryeth the bones. And for that all Passions bring with them ioy or payne, dilate or coarct the heart; therefore I thinke it not amisse, to declare the reason, why these two Passions worke such alterations in the body, to the end, that by the knowledge of them, we may attayne to the vnderstanding of the rest.

Pleasure and Delight, if it bee moderate, bringeth health, because the purer spirites retyre vnto the heart, and they helpe marvellously the digestion of blood, so that thereby the heart engendreth great aboundance, and most purified spirites, which after being dispersed thorow the body, cause a good concoction to be made in all partes, helping them to expel the superfluities; they also cleare the braine, and consequently, the vnderstan­ding: For although while the Passion endureth, it blin­deth a little the indifferent iudgement, yet after that it is past, it rendereth the brayne better disposed, and ap­ter to represent, whatsoever occurreth for speculation. From good concoction, expulsion of supersluities, and aboundance of spirites, proceedeth a good colour, a cleere countenance, and an vniversall health of the bo­dy. But if the Passion of pleasure bee too vehement, questionlesse it causeth great infirmitie: for the heart be­ing continually invironed with great abundance of spi­becommeth too hote and inflamed, and consequently engendereth much cholericke and burned blood: Be­sides, it dilateth and resolveth the substance of the heart too much, in such sort, as the vertue and force thereof is greatly weakened. Wherefore Socrates was wont to say, that those men, which live continently and frugally, had more pleasure, and lesse payne, than those, who with [Page 61] great care procured inticements to pleasure; because intemperate pleasures, besides the remorce of minde, infamie, and povertie, which waiteth vpon them, for the most part, hurt more the body, than delight it. And some, with too vehement laughter have ended their dayes; as Philemon did. Plutarch recounteth also, howeErasm. lib. 6. Apotheg. Plutarch. in Hannib. the Romanes, leesing to Hannibal, newes was brought to Rome, and specially to two women, that their sonnes were slaine: afterwards, a remnant of the souldiers re­turning, these two afflicted, ranne with many more, to know the manner of their sonnes deaths, and amongst the rest, found them both alive, who for ioy, gave vp their ghosts. And vniversally, after much pleasure and laughter, men feele themselves both to languish, and to be melancholy.

Yet the Passions which coarct the heart, as feare, sad­nesse, and despayre, as they bring more payne to the minde, so they are more dangerous to the body; and commonly, men proove lesse harme in those, than in these: and many have lost their lives with sadnesse and feare; but few, with love and hope, except they changed themselves into heavinesse and despayre. The cause why sadnesse doth so moove the forces of the body, I take to be, the gathering together of much melancholy blood about the heart, which collection extinguisheth the good spirits, or at least dulleth them; besides, the heart being possessed by such an humour, cannot digest well the blood and spirites, which ought to be dispersed thorow the whole body, but converteth them into me­lancholy, the which humour being colde and drie, dry­eth the whole body, and maketh it wither away; for colde extinguisheth heate, and drynesse moysture, [Page 62] which two qualities principally concerne life.

These Passions prevayle often so much with men, that they languish away and die: as it befell to the Marquesse of Santa Cruz in Spaine, the Generall to the Kinges Navie against the Frenchmen, who had taken the Azo­res; and D. Diego di Padiglia, the Governour of the Ca­stle of Millan, who receyving certayne wordes of dis­grace from the King of Spaine, they permitted them­selves to be so ore-ruled with the melancoly Passion, that they scarce could chawe their meate and swallowe it downe; at least, they never made good digestion, and so with an vngracious death, they ended their disgraced life.

Questionlesse, this vehement sorte of Passions, pro­ceedeth from an high, prowde, and ambitious minde, and without all doubt, extraordinarie selfe-love▪ the which, although by Gods Lawe they are prohibited, yet by the vayne humours of men, such spirites are highly prized. I remember that in Italy, after the yeere, one thousand five hundred eighty and eight, I heard divers Italian Captaines, greatly condemning the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the King of Spaines Generall in his Navie against England, because he dyed not of Melan­choly, for that his Fleete miscarried so basely, and was foyled by the English Forces so easily. What Maladies growe by cares and heavinesse, many can testifie, and fewe men there bee, which are not subiect to some me­lancholy humour, that often assaulteth them, troubling their mindes, and hurting their bodies; the olde Physi­tians can witnesse this veritie, confirmed by long expe­rience, and registred in verse, as a Medicine to all Poste­ritie.

Si vis incolumem, si te vis reddere sanum,
Schola salerna.
Curas tolle graves, irasci crede prophanum.
If thou wilt live in health,
devoyde of griefe and payne,
Set carking cares aloofe,
and choler thinke prophane.

And Euripides,

[...]
Sorrowes to men diseases bring.

And Salomon, Tristitiam longè expelle à te: Multos Eccles. 30. 25 enim &c. Expell sadnesse farre from thee; For sadnesse hath killed many, neither is there any profite in it. Zeale (that is, envie, emulation or indignation) and anger shorten thy dayes, and Thought (that is, superfluous care and sollicitude) bring old Age before her time.

To conclude, I am of opinion, that Passions cause many Maladies, and welnie all are increased by them, for that all payne engendreth melancholy; which, for the most part, nourisheth all diseases: for many we reade of that were cured by mirth, but never any by sorrow or heavinesse. When Alfonsus King of Naples was aban­doned of his Physitians, as in a desperate case, then he called for Quintus Curtius, and tooke such delight to heare him reade, that hee recovered his health agayne, and presently reiected his Physitians, as not able to cure (by Physicke) that he obtained by alittle delight. This fact I cannot greatly commend, for Physicians and Me­dicines were ordained by God, and a wise man wil not [Page 64] despise them; it may bee, Quintus Curtius pacified the Kinges melancholy minde, which no medicine could doe.

Yet there occurreth one poynt in this matter, not to be omitted, that Passions ingender Humors, and Hu­mors breede Passions: how Passions cause Humors, we have hitherto sufficiently declared; but how Humors stirre vp Passions, must now be delivered. We reade in the Machabees, how, before they led the Elephants to fight in warres, they accustomed to mingle iuyce of grapes and mulberies together, to sharpen and incense them more to battell, and it seemeth a thing frequented in many Nations, to stirre vp beastes to fight, by shew­ing them some redde colour, for thereby they imagine, that the sight of blood inflameth them to the shedding of blood: as in Spaine they vse, when they chace their wild Bulles, and in Italy their Bufaloes. The true cause, why beastes are incensed with a redde colour, Valesius an excellent Physitian rendreth: for (saith he) the sight of redde things (according to the common opinion of Galen, and other Physitians) stirreth and inflameth the blood, therefore they prohibite those which are much given to bleeding, to behold any redde colour. And I my selfe in Italy have heard Physitians commaund, that redde clothes, coveringes, and hangings should bee ta­ken from before the patients, which were labouring in a tertian Agew; because they affirmed, that red colours mooved and inflamed the blood. Now if the blood of Elephants, being incensed with a red colour, had force to stirre in them the Passion of Ire in battell; how much more may we say, that if much hote blood abound in the body, that subiect, by the force of that Humor, shall [Page 65] easily, and often bee mooved to anger; if temperate blood abound, or be mingled with fleugme, to mirth; if melancholy exceede, to griefe and heavinesse? And in effect we proove in dreames, and Physitians progno­sticate by them, what humor aboundeth, for Choler causeth fighting, blood and wounds; Melancholy, dis­grace, feares, affrightments, ill successe, and such like: these dreames are caused by the spirites, which ascend into the imagination, the which being purer or grosser, hotter or colder, more or lesse, (which diversitie depen­deth vpon the humours of the bodie) moove divers Passions according to their Nature. And for this cause we may resolve another difficulty, why some men are alwayes, almost merry; others, for the most part, melan­choly; others, ever angry: this diversity must come from the naturall constitution of the body, wherein, one or other humor doth predominate. The selfe same cause may be alledged, why sometimes wee feele our selves; we know not why, mooved to Mi [...]th, Melancholy, or Anger: insomuch that any little occasion were suffici­ent to incense that Passion: for, as these humors depend vpon the heavens, ayre, sleepe and waking, meate and drinke, exercise and rest, according to the alterations of these externall causes; one or other Humor doth more or lesse over-rule the body, and so causeth alteration of Passions.

Out of this discourse, and the 9. Chapter, we may re­solve some prettie curious Questions, more talkt of and practised, then well vnderstood.

The first is, how can possibly a mans conceite worke strange effectes in his body? As for example, Hypocrates exhorteth Physitians, if two kindes of meate were to [Page 66] be ministred to a Patient, the one healthfull, and the o­ther a little hurtful, or not so good as the other, that they should preferre this being much desired, before that not so well liked: and generally, both Philosophers and Physitians maintayne, that the opinion of the Patient, of the Physitians knowledge, and good­nesse of the Phisicke, importeth much for the curing of any maladie. The reason is plaine (for these and such like experiences) for the Imagination herein (though erroneously conceaving things better then indeede and really they are) causeth a vehement Passion of Hope, wherewith followeth an extraordinary Pleasure in the things; which two Passions awake, or rowze vp the pu­ [...]er Spirits, and vnite them together, qualifying and re­sining them in the best maner; which thus combined, do most effectually co-operate with Nature, & streng­then her in the performance of any corporall action or vitall operation.

Secondly, how S. Austens opinion may bee verified, who thinketh, that the Bulles with white spots, which continued ever among the Egyptians, and were adored for their god Apis, was ever engendred by the acte ofAug. de [...]ir. c. 5 the Diuell, to deceive the Egyptians, who caused in the braine of the Cowe, while she was in conceaving, the i­maginations of such a coloured Bul, which imagination wrought so mightily, that she conceaved the like, and so they never wanted spotted Buls. Galen also reporteth,Galen. de The­riaca ad Pison. Gen. 30. that a woman beholding a most beautifull picture, con­ceaved and brought forth a most beautifull childe, by a most deformed father, wee have also in the scriptures the like experience in Iacob, who to cause his Ewes con­ceave speckled lambes, put sundry white roddes in the [Page 67] chanels where the beasts were watered, and thereby the lambes were yeaned party-coloured. These prooved ex­periments, by the censure of Aristotle a sage Philoso­pher, and Galen a sound Physitian, proceeded from a ve­hement imagination in the time of conception. And for this cause saith Aristotle, wee see the yonglings of bruite beastes, for most parte to resemble in colours, fi­gures, temper, greatnesse, proprieties and conditions, their siers and dammes: but in men we observe farre o­therwise, for wise parents beget foolish children, & ver­tuous vitious; and contrariwise, foolish parents wise children, and vitious vertuous: faire parents procreate foule children, and deformed parents faire children: and among the children of the same parents, one will bee wise, another foolish, one fayre, another foule. The cause of this varietie, are the various imaginations of the Parents, at the time of their Conception: Beastes therefore not being distracted with these various Imagi­nations, conceave not with such diversitie. I am not ig­norant that Huartes in his triall of Wittes, derideth this reason, and saith that this answere of Aristotle savoureth of great simplicitie: for he resolveth all this varietie into the multiplicity & diversity of nourishment, which men receive, far different from beasts, which is vniforme, and for most part the same: as also for that generation is an o­peration of the vegetative and not of the sensitive soule. But by his leave, Aristotles opinion is as probable as his, and both ioyned together, make one complete & perfit. For albeit generation be an action of our vegetive soule, yet it is subordinate & greatly qualified by the sensitive, for divers imaginations of more or lesse pleasure in that acte, inciteth more or lesse thereunto, and so causeth a [Page 68] perfitter or more vnperfitte generation. The varietie also of nourishment and qualities or tempers of the seede, more or lesse concurre therewithall.

The fourth effect of Passions, which is, disquietnesse of the Minde. CHAP. IIII.

HEe that should see Hercules raging, Orestes trembling, Cain ranging, Amon pining, Dido consuming, Archimedes running naked, would little doubt, that Passions mightily change and alter the quiet temper and disposi­tion of the Minde: for if peace bee a concord, or con­sort of our sensuall soule with reason; if then the Mind be quiet, when the Will ruled by Prudence overruleth, moderateth and governeth Passions: questionlesse, then the soule is troubled, when Passions arise vp and oppose themselves against Reason: Inordinate affections (as ex­perience teacheth) many waies disquiet the Minde, and trouble the peaceable state of this pettie common­weale of our soule: but specially by five: by Contradi­ction, by Contrarietie, by Insatiabilitie, by Importuni­tie, by Impossibilitie.

Contradiction. § I.

BY two wayes the Subiectes of every Common­weale, vsually disturbe the State, and breede civill broyles therein: the first is, when they rise vp and rebel against their King: the second is, when they brawle one with another, and so cause riots and tumults: the former is called Rebellion, the latter Sedition. After the same manner, Passions either rebell against Reason their Lord and King, or oppose themselves one against another, that I call Contradiction, this Contrarietie. The former he well vnderstood, that sayde Spiritus concupis­cit Gal. 5. adversus carnem, & caro adversus Spiritum: The Spi­rit affects against the Flesh, & the Flesh against the Spi­rit. This internall Combate and spirituall Contradicti­on, every spirituall man daily perceyveth, for inordinate Passions, will he, nill he, cease not almost hourely to rise vp against Reason, and so molest him, troubling the rest and quietnesse of his Soule. It is related in the life of S. Anselme, our Archbishop of Canterbury, that wal­kingIn vita Ansel [...]. into the fieldes, hee saw a Shepheardes little boy, who had caught a Birde, and tyed a stone to her legge with a thread, and ever as the Bird mounted vp to soare aloft, the stone drewe her downe againe. The venera­ble olde man, much mooved at this sight, fell presently a weeping, lamenting thereby, the miserable condition of men, who no sooner did endevour to ascend to Hea­ven by contemplation, but the Flesh and Passions ha­led the heart backe againe, and drew it downe to earth, enforcing the Soule to lie there like a beast, which should haue soared in the Heavens like an Angell. For [Page 70] these rebellious Passions are like craftie Pioners, who, while Souldiers liue carelesly within their Castle, or at least not much suspect, they vndermine it, and breake in so vpon them, that they can hardly escape: in like ma­ner, these Affections vndermine the vnderstandings of men, for while the wittes are eyther carelesse, or im­ployed in other affayres, there creepeth vp into their heartes, some one or other perverse Passion, which transporteth the Soule cleane another way, in so much as that with extreame difficultie she can recall her selfe againe, and reduce her Affections vnto their former quietnesse and peaceable temper. Who seeth and [...]ee­leth not, that often times while Reason attendeth to Contemplation, a villanous Passion of Love with­draweth the attention, and with an attoxicated delight imprisoneth the Affection? who perceyveth not, that divers times Reason would pardon all iniu [...]ies, and Ire opposeth it selfe, importuning revenge? who experi­menteth not, that Reason woulde willingly fast and abstayne from delicacies, but inordinate Delight will feast, and endure no austerities? who knoweth not, that Reason often prescribeth, yea, vrgeth to labour and payne, for the service of God, or to performe the affaires of the worlde, and Sensualitie would passe her time idlely? And after this sort almost continually in­ordinate Passions contradict right Reason.

Contrarietie of Passions. §. II.

THe Egyptians fought against the Egyptians, the East winde riseth often against the West, the South against the North, the Winde against the Tyde, and one [Page 71] Passion fighteth with an other. The cholericke Caval­liere would with death revenge an iniurie, but feare of killing or hanging opposeth it selfe against this Passion. G [...]ttonie would have dainties, but Covetousnesse prescribeth parsimonie. Lecherie would raigne and dominier, but dreadfulnesse of infamie, and feare of diseases draw in the raynes of this inordinate Affection. By which opposition we may easily perceive, how vn­quiet is the heart of a passionate man, tossed like the Sea with contrary windes, even at the same time and mo­ment. An other Disquietnesse there is also, which to many happeneth, and that welnie vpon a sodayne: For some times a man will bee in the prime of his ioy, and presently a sea of griefe overwhelmeth him. In what a world of ioy lived Baltazar, when sitting at his Sup­perDan. 5. with his Minions and Concubines, hee caused in a Triumph to be set before him, for a glympse of his glo­rie, the golden Vessell which his Father had by Con­quest brought from the Temple of Hierusalem? and yet the Hand which appeared writing vpon the wall, drowned all his pleasure in a gulfe of feare and woe. Putiphars wife ws inflamed with love, when she alluredGenes. 10. chaste Ioseph to violate both her and his fidelitie vnto her husband: and presently the Passion of hatred as ve­hemently vexed her, as the Passion of love had former­ly tormented her.

Insatiabilitie of Passions. §. III.

HEll, earth, and a womans wombe, saith Salomon, areProu. 30. 15. vnsatiable; & with these he might have numbred a number of Passions. How vnsatiable was the lust of Sa­lomon, [Page 72] who had no lesse Queenes and Concubines then a thousand? How encreaseth the Passion of couetous­nesse3. Regs 3. with the encrease of riches? Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit. As riches flowe, so love doth grow. And herein we may resemble our Passions to men affected with the dropsie, who the more they drinke, the more they thirst: for drinke caufeth such a desire and encreaseth it, euen so a vehementinordinate Passion inclineth vohemently the soule to embrace or flie the obiect propounded; and a stronger Passion cau­seth a stronger propension and inclination, and conse­quently an insatiable desire of pleasure, or an exorbitant abhomination of paine. It is well knowne in Scotland how insatiable is the passion of Ire, and the appetite of Revenge, for their deadly wil never be quenched, but with the blood of all their enemies and their adhe­rents. In the Citty of Naples not many yeares since the base passionate people wanting corne, and imputing the dearth, either to the negligence or avarice of a certayne Magistrate, came and beset his house, killed diverse of his servantes, and finally caught the maister, and by maine force brought him into the market place, ript his belly, pulled out his heart, and there in presence of all the Cittie eate it with salt. Howe the Passions of Pride and Ambition, how vnsatiable they be in women and courtiers, all the world knoweth, and no man is igno­rant but he that knoweth nothing.

Importunitie of Passions. § IIII.

INordinate Passions either prevent reason, or are stir­red vp by a corupt iudgement, and therefore nei­ther [Page 73] observe time nor place: but vpon every occasion would be leaping into action, importuning execution. Let a man fall a praying or studying, or be busie in any negotiation▪ importance, and very often he shal feele a head [...]esse Passion to rush in vpon him, importuning him even then to leave all, and prosecute revenge, lust, glut­tonie, or some other vnbrideled desire. It is well knowne howe in the sacke of sundry Citties, when the vnruly and passionate souldiers should have attended and em­ployed all their forces to keepe the gates, or winne the Market places, or defend the common passages; con­trariwise by the importunitie of Passions, either distra­cted with desire of spoyle and riches, or drawne with appetite of private revenge, or haled with lust to violate Virgins or honest Matrons, leese in a moment all they wonne with extreame losse and labour, and perhappes also their lives withall▪ Sometimes you shall have a num­ber of greedy Passions like so many yong Crowes halfe starved gaping and crying for foode, every one more earnest than another to be satiated; to content them all is impossible, to content none is intollerable, to prose­cute one, and abandon the rest, is to carry so many hungry vipers gnawing vppon the heart-strings of the soule.

Saint Basil sayth, that inordinate Passions rise vp in aBasil. hom. in­ebrietat & luxnr. drunkard like a swarme of Bees, buzzing on every side: or like wilde horses drawing a coach, running with it headlong shaking, herrying and herling their Maister at their pleasure: for in such men a multitude of Passi­ons most apparantly discover themselves, and in re­garde that Reason in them is buried, and cannot holde the raines of such savage and vnreasonable beastes, ther­fore [Page 74] they breake out debostly, and never cease to range and revell, till Reason rise out of her cymerian darknesse, grave of oblivion, and puddle of ignorance and sence­lesse beastlinesse.

Impossibilitie of Passions. § V.

THere is no man in this life which followeth the streame of his Passions, but expecteth and verily beleeveth to get at last a firme rest, contentation, and ful satiety of all his appetites: the which is as possible, as to quench fire with fuell, extinguish a burning agew with hote wines, drowne an Eele with water. Rachel well de­claredGen. 30. 1. the impossible petitions of her Passions, when so importunely she demaunded children of Iacob, or else that shee woulde die: as though it lay in his power to have children at his pleasure. That epicure who wished his throat as long as a Crane (yet rather deserved a nose as long as a Woodcocke) that his dainty fare might longer feede his gluttonous taste, and not passe away almost in a moment, well declared that Passions sutes were not onely senslesse, but also impossible to be graunted. It is woonderfull what passionate appetites raigne in women when they be with childe; I have heard it credibly reported, that there was a woman in Spaine, which longed almost till death, to have a mouth full of flesh out of an extreame fatte mans necke. I will not heere condemne all women, who labour with such frantike fittes; yet I can not but approove a sage Phi­losophers sentence (who was my maister in Philoso­phy) that most of these appetites proceeded from wo­men [Page 75] extreamely addicted to follow their owne desires, and of such a froward disposition, as in very deede, if they were crossed of their willes, their Passions were so strong, as they vndoubtedly wold miscarry of their chil­dren; for vehement Passions alter vehemently the tem­per and constitution of the body, which can not but greatly preiudice the tender infant lying in the womb. And the rather I am perswaded to this opinion, for that I never knew any woman very vertuous, or well mor­tified subiect to these fancies. Neverthelesse, by these preposterous desires, and sundry appetites for things impossible, or almost impossible to be accomplished, wee may well conclude, that Passions desires keepe nei­ther sence, order, nor measure.

The third Booke of the Passions of the Minde: where­in are delivered the meanes to know, and mortifie Passions, what prudence and Policie may be practised in them.

Meanes for euery man to know his owne Passions. CHAP. I.

LIttle it would avayle the Physitian to speculate the causes and effects of infirmities, if he could not find foorth some remedies: so small profite the knowledge of our Pas­sions would affoorde vs, if wee could not attaine vnto some good meanes to direct them. And albeit in every particular treatise of particular Passions, I pretend to touch this string, yet I could not omit to set downe some generall rules, as both methode and matter require.

Before all other thinges, it is most necessary for hi [...] that will moderate or mortifie his Passions, to know his owne Inclination, and to what Passions his Soule most bendeth: for you shall have no man, but hee is inclined more to one Passion than another, the meanes to come to this knowledge, may be these: To expend thy natu­rall 1 constitution, for cholericke men be subiect to An­ger, melancholy men to Sadnesse, sanguine to Pleasure, flegmatike to Slouth and drunkennesse. Besides, consi­der 2 with what company thou most delightest, and in them thou shalt see a patterne of thy Passions: for like affecteth like: as Augustus being at a Combate, where was present an infinite number of people; and among the rest, as principal, his two daughters, Iulia and Livia: Sueton. he marked what company courted them, and percey­ved that grave Senatours talked with Livia, and loose yonkers, and riotous persons with Iulia; whereby hee came to discerne his Daughters inclinations and man­ners; for he well knew, that customes and company, are cousin germanes; and maners, and meetings, for the most part, sympatize together.

Hereunto adde thoughtes, and words: if one speake 3 and thinke much of beautie, vaine attire, glory, honour, reputation; if he feele in his heart, that often he desi­reth to be praised, or to insinuate his owne praise, it is most manifest, that the Passion of Pride pricketh him; and so I meane of all other Affections, because the minde doth thinke, and the tongue will speake accor­ding to the Passions of the heart: for, as the Ratte run­ning behinde a paynted cloth, betrayeth her selfe; even so, a Passion lurking in the heart, by thoughts and speech discovereth it selfe, according to the common Pro­verbe, [Page 79] ex abundantia cordis os loquitur, from the aboun­dance of heart, the tongue speaketh: for as a River a­bounding with water, must make an inundation, and runne over the bankes; even so, when the heart is over­flowen with affections, it must find some passage by the mouth, minde, or actions. And for this cause, I have di­vers times heard some persons very passionate affirme, that they thought their hearts would have broken, if they had not vented them in some sort, either with spite­full words, or revenging deeds: and that they could do no otherwise than their Passions inforced them.

Another remedy to know thy selfe, more palpable to 4 be perceived, & most profitable to be practised, I thinke to be a certaine reflexion, that thou mayest make of thy selfe, after this maner: marke in other men, their words, gestures, and actions, when as they seeme to thee to pro­ceed from some inordinate Passion; as if thou see (for ex­ample) one eate very greedily, stuffe his cheeks like two dugs, then plainly it appeareth, such actions glaunce out of gluttony: likewise, if thou heare one talke bawdily, questionles, such speeches leake out of a lecherous hart: If one be fickle in apparel, in customes, & exercises, such are the of-springes of inconstancy: after thou hast well noted the fruits of these Passions, make then a reflexion vpon thy selfe, and weigh whether thou hast not done heretofore, and daily doest such like, but that the vaile of self-love doth blind thy eies, that thou canst not see thē.

It is good also to have a wise and discreet friend, to ad­monish 5 vs of our Passions, when we erre from the path and plaine way of Vertue: for as I have often sayde, selfe-love blindeth much a man; and another may bet­ter iudge of our actions, than we can our selves: but I [Page 80] would not haue this Scindicke to be molestfull, and to make of a moale-hill, a Mountaine, but to shewe the Passion, and the reason why such wordes and actions were vndecent: Truely, if a man might haue such a friend, I would thinke hee had no small treasure. And especially this ought to bee practised by great Persons, who never (almost) heare the trueth concerning their owne actions: for Flatterie fayneth falshood: & hope of gayne and preferment, mooveth them to prayse vices for vertues. This Trueth might largely bee prooved, but that it is more palpable, by experience, than can be denyed.

It chanceth sometimes, by Gods permission, that our enemies (who prie into our actions and examine more narrowly our intentions then wee our selves) discover vnto vs better our Passions, and reveale our imperfecti­ons, then ever we our selves. As befell vnto S. Augu­stines mother, the holy Monica, who, (as he relateth in his Confessions) being from her youth accustomed to drinke onely water, was after some time by her friendes and parents, caused to sippe a little wine, and so by sip­ping little and little, she came to such a delight of drin­king wine, that she would sip off a prettie cuppe: It hap­pened one day, that the Maid of the house and shee fell at some wordes, and the Maid (according to womens fashions) vpbrayded her with all the faultes she knewe, and among the rest expostulated this, calling her meribi­bulam, a tos-pot, or tippler of pure wine: the godly Mo­nica conceyved such an aversion from wine, and such a shame by this expostulation, that she never drunke any more all the dayes of her life.

Lastly, a good way to know the inclinations of the [Page 81] mind, is like the manner we come by the knowledge of the inclinations of our bodies, that is, by long experi­ence. For as we say, if a man, before fortie yeeres of age be not a good physition of his owne bodie, that is, if he know not whether his inclination bendeth, what doth him good, what bringeth harme, he deserueth to be re­gistred for a foole; euen so, he that in many yeares by continuall practise of his owne soule perceiueth not where his passions lie, in my iudgement, he scarce deser­ueth the name of a wise man: for as he may be begd for an ideot, who riding a horse for tenne yeares, euery day from morning to night, and yet knoweth not the quali­ties of his horse, and the vices whereunto he is subiect; so he which euery day manageth his owne soule, if after tenne yeeres labour he cannot find whither the inclinati­ons tend, he may well be thought either very vitious, or very simple.

Meanes to mortifie Passions. CHAP. II.

AFter thou hast attained the knowledge of thy inclinations, thou must then consider, whe­ther they be extraordinarily vehement, or no: For, as to greater griefes stronger reme­dies are applied, so to furious and outragious passions, more forcible meanes are to be ministred. If thou tho­rowly perceiue thy passions to exceed the common course, then looke to the end of the 16. chapter, where [Page 82] thou shalt see how hard they are to be reyned, and what great, yea and extreame difficultie they cast vpon thee against vertue and goodnesse, and then thou mayest ac­cept these few rules.

Euery moderat passion bordureth betwixt two ex­treames, as liberalitie betwixt auarice and prodigalitie; temperat diet betwixt gluttonie and scarcitie; fortitude betwixt desperat boldnesse and superfluous feare, called timiditie. Men commonly by nature are more enclined to one of these extreames than another, as most men are giuen to couetousnesse, few to prodigalitie; more to eat too much, than to eat too little; more to be afraid when they need not, than to be too bold when they ought to be afraid. If then thou trie thy selfe, not vehemently in­clined to any of these passions, yet sometimes to exceed in one extreame, sometime in another; commonly the securest way to be practised, is to incline thy selfe to that extreame which men by nature most vehemently ab­horre, as prodigalitie, scarceuesle in diet, boldnesse in daungers. But if thou perceiue a vehement inclination to the one extreame, procure to bend thy selfe as farre to the other; for so thou shalt with more facilitie come to the middest: as commonly the Philosophers declare, by the example of a crooked staffe, the which to make straight, we bend to the other side, and make it as croo­ked contrariwise as it was before.

The second rule to moderate passions, we may learneSolus in illicitis non cadit, qui se aliquando & a licitis caute re­stringit. Gregor. lib. 5. moral. & hom. 35. super Euan. of Socrates, who to bridle extraordinarie and vnlawfull pleasures, was accustomed to abstaine from lawfull and not prohibited: For if one be addicted to drunkennesse, he shall with more facilitie ouercome this passion, if he [Page 83] abstaine from strong drinkes, he most affecteth, euen at such times as lawfully he may vse them.

The third rule to flie occasions, which may incense the passion whereunto we are inclined: for occasiones fa­ctunt latrones, a commodious and fit occasion to steale, maketh oftentimes theeues, which otherwise would haue been honest men: wherefore he that committeth him­selfe to sea in a boisterous tempest, deserueth to suffer shipwrack, & he that willingly without necessitie dealeth with infected persons, may blame himselfe if he fall into their diseases: so hee that is giuen to lasciuiousnesse, and vseth riotous companie, may condemne his owne wilful­nesse, if his passions rebell and ouercome him. For this cause God commaunded that the Nazarites which were consecrated to him, should drinke no Wine, not any thing that might cause drunkennesse; and least they should, by eating grapes or great reisins be allured to theNum 6. drinking of wine, he commaunded them, they should neither eat grapes nor reisins: So, hee that will not bee guided by affectiōs, must diligently auoid occasions. Yet this rule ought not to be vnderstood vniuersally, for it is conuenient to find out occasions to exercise some passi­ons, as to seeke the poore, to practise the passion of pitie; to visit the sick, to shew compassion; to exercise learning, to ouercome feare. But in such passions as Nature more than willingly would follow, best it were to flie occasi­ons: as he that will liue chast, must eschew much fami­liaritie with suspected persons, and vniuersally with all women; not looking vpon them, nor touching, except necessitie, or good manners, in some few cases requireth. The same may be said of gluttonie, pride, and such like, [Page 84] whereunto our corrupt nature is much inclined: yet if some man by experience haue prooued such passions not to be very rebellious, and that for most part he hath ouerruled them, he may be something the bolder: yet let him not be too confident, for the Fox often seemes to be dead, to seize more assuredly vpon his prey.

The fourth remedie, for noble spirits singular; of ba­ser mindes abhorred, yet of both worthie to be practi­sed, may be drawne out of the very poyson of passions, that is, when a most vehement and rebellious motion assaulteth thee, when the fiercenesse and tyrannie there­of welnigh possesseth thee, when thou art almost yeel­ding consent vnto it: then turne the force of thy soule with as much indeauour as thou canst to the contrarie, and with one naile driue out another; make of tentati­ons1. Cor. 10. 11. 2. Cor. 8. 9. a benefit, let vertue in infirmitie and weakenesse of resistance be more perfit, and ennobled: For as in warres the valiantest souldiours in greatest incounters are best tried, so in most vehement passions, the resolutest minds are best prooued. For Iosephs chastitie had neuer been so glorious, if his vnchast ladie had not so vehemently allu­red him to defile the bed of his lord. Iobs patience had neuer been so conspicuous, if the passion of griefe and sadnesse had not so violently seized vpon him. Abra­hams fortitude had neuer beene so heroicall, if the death of his onely sonne had not cut in a manner his heart strings asunder.

This meane, to mortifie passions, I take to be one of the most forcible and important remedies that men can vse, especially for two causes: the first, for that by these contrarie acts are bred in the soules, certaine habites, [Page 85] helpes, stayes, or inclinations most opposite vnto our passions; and therefore the passions being strong, they cannot be ouercommed, but by the might of excellent vertue: for as the deeper a tree is rooted in the ground, it requireth greater force to pull it vp; euen so, the greater possession the passion hath taken of the soule, the greater vertue it needeth to supplant it. It seemeth that Iob, afterIob. 13. 15. so many temptations, practised this remedie, when he said, Etiamsi occideret me, in ipso sperabo. Although God kill me, yet I will hope in him: For questionlesse, those pains and pangs did incite him to desperation; the which, with contrarie trust in God he most valiantly suppressed. Another cause may be yeelded, for that many passions proceed, not onely from the inclinations of nature, altera­tions of humours, but by the very suggestion of the di­uell, who watcheth his oportunitie, to take men at an aduantage, and to induce them to sundry inordinat affe­ctions; for which cause, they are called very often in Scriptures, vncleane spirits, because they leade men into vncleane passions and actions. The diuell therefore see­ing his temptations so valiantly resisted, his poysoned darts rebounding into his owne breast, I meane his illu­sions redound to his owne shame and confusion, dareth not be so bold another time to inuade so strong a sort, but with all his troupe will flie from it, as a swarme of filthie flies dare not approch neere vnto a boyling pot, Resistite diabolo, & fugiet à vobis, resist the diuell, and heIames 4. 7. will flie from you.

The fift remedie, not inferiour to the precedent, is to resist passions at the beginning: vse the remedie for ver­tue, that Pharaoh practised for tyrannie, in killing all the [Page 86] infants of the Iews, least they should encrease too much, and so ouerrun his countrey: While the sore is greene, seldome surgeons despaire, but festred once, they hardly cure it: so passions, while they knocke at the doore of our mindes, whilest they are a little entertained, if you ex­pell them not quickly, they will allodge longer with you than you would haue them. And the most easie way of all, and by spirituall men daily put in vre, is to diuert the thoughts to some other obiect: for as we vse in com­mon conuersation, when two be brawling about any thing, to diuert their talke to another matter; (for, as long as they continue about the same subiect, they are in dan­ger to fall into the same inconuenience) so the best way to expell an inordinate passion, is, to transport the atten­tion to some other matter; as he that will be rid of an ill guest, the worse he entertaineth him, the sooner he shall be dispatched of him: and for this cause, when any pas­sion oppresseth a man, those who are addicted to studie, haue great aduantage of others, because they may diuert their mindes easily with their Bookes.

The sixt remedie to mortifie passions, is, to bridle the bodie, that is, to chastise it, according to that saying of Saint Paule: Castigo corpus meum, & in seruitutem redigo 1. Corin. 9. 27. ne, cum alijs praedicauero ipse reprobus efficiar. I chastise my bodie, and bring it into s [...]ruitude, least I that preach to others, become reprobat. For questionlesse, he that pampereth his bodie, seedeth his enemie, and he that will feede it with dainties, cannot but find it rebellious; for this we see in wild beasts, That the best way to tame them, is by ill vsage: pamper a horse, and you shall haue him too wanton; pamper your flesh, and it will ouerrule [Page 87] you. And he that will mortifie his passions, and let his bodie flow with delicacies, doth like him which will ex­tinguish fire by adding more fewell. Therefore fasting, praying, lying hard, course shirts, pinching cold, much studie, and such austerities, are foements of vertue, and bane of passions: and in fine, how much the more with reason and prudence we afflict this rebellious flesh, we make it so much the more a fitter instrument for morti­fication, vertue, and all goodnesse.

The seuenth remedie, requireth a resolute good will and endeuour to attaine vnto this perfit gouernment of a mans selfe: whence from will follow a diligent execu­tion of mortification; for such a man will not cease daily and incessantly to demaund grace and fauour of God to ouercome his rebellious nature, resist temptations, with­stand all false allurements of this inticing world: Such an one will examine daily his conscience, and note what thoughts, words, or deeds, against God himselfe, and his neighbour, he hath committed, whereby either vertue is extinguished, or vice increased: Such an one will deter­mine in the morning when he riseth, not to let passe that day, without the extirpating of some stinking and poy­soned thorne, and planting some sweet and pleasant flower, within the garden of his soule: Such an one will not onely preuent occasions, but also arme himselfe as well as he can to resist such tentations as he knoweth especially shall be offered in certaine places and compa­nie, which he cannot conueniently auoid.

To this helpeth greatly the consideration of that small pleasure passions doe yeeld; for, almost, in a mo­ment they are commenced, practised, and past; where­fore [Page 88] much better it were to crosse them a little, and win a crowne of glorie, than to please them a moment, to be condemned to hell.

Lastly, but chiefely, when thy passions are most ve­hement, then seeke for succour from Heauen, flie vnder the wings of Christ, as the chickens vnder their henne, when the kite seeketh to deuour them: beate at the gates of his mercie, craue grace to ouercome thy mise­rie. He is thy Father, and will not giue thee a serpent, if thou aske him a fish: humble thy selfe before him, open thy sores and wounds vnto him, and the good Samaritane will poure in both wine and oyle; and then thou shalt see thy passions melt and fall away as clouds are consumed by the Sunne.

Prudence to be vsed in Passions. CHAP. III.

AS the Physitian of the bodie ordaineth not onely medicines for his patients maladies, but also prescribeth his diet, rest, or exer­cise, sleepe, or waking, what he ought to doe in the accession of his agu [...], what in declination: euen so about the passions of the mind, which are certaine diseases of the soule, like care and diligence must be vsed. The remedies were deliuered in the precedent chapter, the carriage and demeanour in them shall be set downe in the present.

Two sorts of prudence we may vse concerning passi­ons, [Page 89] the one how to behaue and carrie our selues when we are troubled with them; the other, how to deale with others, when we perceiue they are possessed of them: the first I will call prudence in passions; the se­cond, pollicie. The former I meane to handle here, the latter, in the next chapter.

The first point of prudence which all prudent men confesse and obserue, is to persuade our selues when we are mooued with a vehement passion, that our soules are then, as it were, infected with a pestilent ague, which both hindereth the sight of our eyes, and the tast of our tongues, that is, corrupteth the iudgement, and peruer­teth the will; that as certaine spectacles make moun­taines seeme mole-hils, and others, mole-hils like mountaines; euen so, passions make the passionate to iudge all those things which tend to the fauour of his passion, reasonable, great, and worthie, and all that stands against it, base, vile, and naughtie, as in the twelfth chap­ter was declared.

Hereupon followeth, that at what time the passion is aflote, and raigneth, it were not good to make any re­solution or determination of change: for some I haue seene so vehement in their passions, that whatsoeuer was suggested them, either by the diuell, or their passi­ons, they presently would put it in execution: I doe thinke there be few men liuing, which haue not ouer­shot themselues in this point, and repented when their soules were calmed, that they committed, when they were tempested.

The most part of the world is bewitched with this sorcerie; for what wicked resolutions attempt the cho­lericke [Page 90] in the very dregs of their anger? What desperat words flie? What fields are pitched in the heat of ire? How many kill, drowne, and hang themselues in me­lancholie and desperations? What fornications, adul­teries, incests, and other beastialities are effected in the furious flame of fleshly lust? All the world can witnesse, which I thinke to be too too sufficient proofe; wherfore Architas did wisely, when he found his seruants in the field, to haue committed once a fault, and perceiuing himselfe to be greatly mooued therewithall, he would not beat them in his ire, but said: Fortunati estis quod irascor vobis, Happie are you that I am angrie with you, for otherwise hee would haue beaten them. Cicero 4. Tuscul.

And Athenedorus, a wise Philosopher, departing from Augustus Caesar, and bidding him farewell, he left this lesson with him, most worthie to be printed in an Emperours breast, That when he was angrie, he should neither speake nor doe any thing, before he had recited the foure and twentie names of the Greeke Alphabet: The which lesson Caesar receiued as a most pretious iew­ell. Plutarch in Apoph. Rom.

The second point of prudence in passions, is, to con­ceale, as much as thou canst, thy inclinations, o [...] that pas­sion thou knowest thy selfe most prone to follow; and this for two causes: first, for credite: secondarily, for ma­ny inconueniences that may thereby ensue. It impea­cheth questionlesse greatly, a graue mans credite, a great mans authoritie, and a ciuile mans good conuersation, to be subiect to some one only inordinate passion: for such a corrupt iudgement hath now so much preuailed with [Page 91] men, yea, and euer hath ben, that they will contemne the whole, for some one notable defect: as for example, if we see a picture of a man or woman, drawne with exquisit colours, great proportion, and art; yet, if there be but one eye, one arme, yea or one finger out of square, men will say, the image is spoyled, for that one defect; yea, the first thing almost we marke, is the improportion or disquaring of that part.

How many prize, almost nothing, their geldings, be­cause they lacke their tailes, eares, mane, or good co­lours? Euen so, we trie by dayly talke, that commonly men descant vpon other mens doings; they will say, such a nobleman is resolute in warres, goodly in person; but subiect to choller, too much addicted vnto his owne iudgement▪ such a mā excelleth in learning, yea but pride ouerruleth him; such a Senatour iudgeth profoundly, but is impatient in hearing of causes; such a man raigneth in the Pulpit, but blinded with couetousnesse; such a man passeth in Musicke, but is buried, for the most part, in the tauerne; such a man giueth great almes, but attendeth too much to good cheere; and in fine, there is no man so well qualified, but alwayes the world will condemne him, because they iudge him stained with some passion: therefore great prudence wisemen account it, for graue and great persons, not to lay their passions open to the censure of the world. Many inconueniences may follow, if others know what passions men are subiect vnto; for if thy enemies would bee reuenged of thee, no fitter meanes they might sleightly vse, than to procure some way whereby thy passions should be stirred and put in execution; for by often ministring matter, thy passions [Page 92] would easily subdue thee: as a Spanish souldier and a Dutchman, after many bragges of their valour and feats of armes aptly insinuated: for (sayd the Spanish souldier) with one Spaniard, & a hundred buttes of wine, I would kill a whole armie of Dutchmen; because I would set my wine at night, in such a place, where I knew the Dutch troupes should lodge, and then I know they would ne­uer leaue drinking while there remained any wit in their braines; and so buried with drinke, it were no great ma­sterie to despatch them all. Nay, quoth the Dutchman, without any man, I would destroy a troupe of Spani­ards, onely by sending against them a multitude of wo­men, for they might easily make of them a massacre like Paris, or an euensong of Sicilie at midnight in their beds. These two knew well the inclinations of both Coun­tries, and consequenly perceiued the way how one might ouerthow the other; yet although they were simple and souldierlike discourses (for many things may be in com­mon auoided, which in particular may be hardly escaped) neuerthelesse they knew how easie a thing it was, by mi­nistring matter to passions, to cast a baite with a hooke to draw them into their owne ruine.

But some would be glad to know, how a man might well conceale his passions, so that the world should not iudge him passionat [...]. I answere, that this question yeel­deth some difficultie, for hardly can a passionate man bri­dle so his affections that they appeare not. But yet if he be neuer so passionat, and would but follow a litle directi­on, I thinke he might, albeit not wholy, yet in great part, auoyd the infamie of a passionate person. The way may be thus: in great assemblies, or at such times as most men [Page 93] marke our actions, wordes, and gestures, then if a man haue an occasion of choler, indignation, lust, pride, feare, or such like passion, if he refraine but a little, all those will at least suspect that he permitteth not his passions who­ly to ouerrunne him. For all historiographers whichBasil. in hom. de legend. lib. Gent. write of Alexander the great, highly commend his con­tinencie; and especially moued with the carriage of him­selfe, when Darius wife and her daughters were taken prisoners, and subiect to his power, they being beauti­full, he in the prime of yeeres; yet because he would but scarcely looke on them, hee woon for euer the name of Continencie.

Besides, it were good to dispraise in words before others, that passion thou art most addicted vnto; for by so doing thou shalt make men beleeue in deed, that thou abhorrest much that [...]ice; & questionlesse, if the passion be not too pregnantly known, such words will blemish a great part of mens conceits; for, according to the Italian Prouerbe:

Buone parole & cattiui fatti
Ingannano li sauij & li matti.

That is,

Wordes good, and workes ill,
Makes fooles and wisemen leese their skill.

I say not this, because I would haue a man to doe one thing, and speake another, but that if he cannot but some­time of fragilitie slide, it may bee a good way to recall him againe, and not to fall so often, if he speake in dis­praise of his owne fault; for men will be ashamed to com­mit often, that they themselues dispraise eagerly: and be­sides, [Page 94] it repaireth anew his credit, almost cracked with the former passion.

The third point may be, Not to vex and trouble thy selfe too much whē a passion seizeth vpō thee, but diuer­ting thy mind from it, and restraining thy consent as well as thou canst from yeelding vnto it; and in short time thou shalt see it vannish away: as wee prooue in daily temptations of ire, sadnesse, loue, lust, and such like, which fall and consume away euen by themselues: either because the humour which was mooued, returneth to his former seat, or the impression made in the imagina­tion deminisheth, or the attention of the soule destracted with other matters, faileth, or some other passion ex­pelleth it, or the deuill ceaseth to tempt; either (I say) all these, or most of them mittigat, consume, and wholy subuert that passion which before so troubled vs, and see­med insuperable.

The fourth poynt which ought principally to bee considered, and well waighed of those whose passions are most vehement and inordinate, is this, that they which perceiue in themselues such disordered affections, ought first to know the root of them to bee selfe-loue, and the greater they find the boughs of their passions, the greater and deeper root let them bee assured lieth hidden vnder the bottome of their soule: for which cause such men must persuade themselues to haue great diffi­cultie to vertue, and extreame facilitie to vice: that as they loue pleasures of the body exceedingly, so they hate all that may hinder or oppose it selfe thereunto mightily. That they bee blinded as battes in their owne conceits, apprehending that they loue or hate, farre differently [Page 95] from that it is in very deed; that they bee commonly too rash, attempting greater enterprises than their forces are able to performe, and for the most part more bold than wise, guiding their actions, [...] not by reason and iudgement, but by harebraine affections: and as they are headlong and obstinat when strong passions possesse them, so are they irresolute and inconstant when a weake affection dooth mooue them: for being accustomed to follow their appetites, as long as they continue they per­sist in one mood; but after the weeke passion is ap­peased, their iudgements and determinations are chan­ged.

These men ought to bee wonderfull warie in their words, and circumspect in their actions, alwayes hauing themselues suspected: wherefore I would persuade them, first to craue of God helpe and grace, to ouer­come so hard a nature: secondly, to conferre with wise and discreet men about their owne affaires and de­terminations, rather relying vpon them, than their owne iudgements: which counsell Salomon gaue, saying, Fili, ne innitaris prudentiae tuae. Sonne, be not married to thyProu. 3. 5. owne wisdome. Thirdly, that euery day they vse some meane to ouercome their peruerse nature: for as wee prooue by experience, such men haue many crosses and griefes of mind, their company (commonly) all es­chew; and to be short, they are a burthen to themselues and others; whereas if they would but with a little dili­gence moderat their passions, as such men bee wittie and high spirited, so they would be humble and affable; there is no sort of men, whose conuersation would be more gratefull than theirs: for they bee like vnto a fa [...] [Page 96] soile that yeeldeth great aboundance of what is sowne, good or euill, corne or darnell, flowers or weedes.

Pollicie in Passion. CHAP. IIII.

SInce men by nature are addicted to con­uersation, and one dependeth vpon a­nother, therefore it importeth much, to know how to second or crosse other mens affections, how we may please or displease them, make them our friends or foes. But because this subiect is infinite, I will only set downe certaine generall rules, whereby some small light may be had, how to liue and deale with men, to the in­tent, that loue, peace, and charitie be conserued: for good Christians ought not onely to procure an vnion with God, but also an amitie with men: and the world being greene in mallice, and withered in goodnesse, men more guided by passions, than ruled by reason, therefore the wiser ought to prouide a salue proportionated to the sore, and meanes to preuent mallice; least the children of darkenesse in prudence surpasse the children of light, seeing our Maister taught vs, how the cic of a doue ador­neth best the serpents head.

The first rule may be this. All men (commonly) are pleased with them, whom they see affected with those passions whereunto they are subiect and inclined. This rule, both experience teacheth, and reason prooueth. [Page 97] We see that lyons, tygres, and leopards, whose inclina­tions are most cruell, whose passions most fierce, yet one affecteth another and liueth in quiet societie, for the similitude of inclinations, and likelinesse of passions. A­lexander asked a pyrat that was taken and brought be­fore him, How he durst be so bold to infest the seas, and spoyle the commerceries? he answered, That he played the pyrat but with one ship, and his Maiestie with a huge nauie: the which saying so pleased Alexander, that he pardoned his life, and graunted him libertie: so much could the similitude of action transport the kings affection. The reason also of this rule may easily be de­liuered: because all likelinesse causeth loue, and as euery one iudgeth, he doth the best, or at least, approoueth well; euen so, he cannot disprooue, but allow the same in others. Hereupon followeth, that if thou wilt please thy master or friend, thou must apparrell thy selfe with his affections, and loue where he loueth, and hate where he hateth: and vniuersally, to sooth other mens hu­mours, plaineth the way to friendship and amitie: and as this meane fostereth flatterie, if it be abused, so it nouri­sheth charitie, if it be well vsed.

Out of this rule we may deduce the second, which ought no lesse to be obserued in conuersation than the former, That men commonly hate those whome they know to be of contrarie passions: whereupon procee­deth that common Prouerbe, He that hateth whome I loue, how can he loue me? for as fire with fire doe neuer iarre, so fire and water can neuer agree. But in the next Booke, which shall be of Loue, I pretend to discusse better this rule, because, as similitude causeth [Page 98] loue, so dissimilitude breedeth hatred. Therefore I omit to declare how sometimes likelinesse of passions engen­dreth contention, as we say, Figulus figulum odit, one potter hateth another; and, Inter superbos semper sunt iurgia; among prowd men there are euer brawlings: for if similitude of passions preiudicateth profit, then like­linesse of affections causeth dissention.

The third rule. Be not too credulous to men in their owne causes: for as selfe-loue for the most part conceiues what appertaineth to our selues, with a greater shew of good and honestie, than indeed the thing carrieth with it; so, men mooued therewith, declare the matter as they conceiue it: for words spring from conceits, these are the tree, those the flowers and leaues, which doe follow by iust proportion. Wherefore Alexander didPlutarch in Alexand [...]o. wisely (as Plutarch recounteth) at the beginning of his raigne, by shutting one of his eares with his hand, when he heard any accuser in criminall causes, thereby reser­uing (as he said) audience for the defendant. Contrari­wise, others mens matters, which hinder our profit or crosse our designes, for the most part wee extenuat and abase. As in Italie once befell to a number of wise men, who heard an Oration, wherein they were all welnigh persuaded: but the next day came vp another Oratour, and told a contrarie tale, and changed their minds, per­suading them all to the other part; for which cause we may adioyne the fourth rule.

The fourth rule. When you are induced to any thing by act, that is, by a tale well told in Rhetoricall manner, flexibilitie of voyce, gestures, action, or other oratoricall persuasions; good I hold it a while, for a man to suspend [Page 99] his iudgement, and not to permit his will follow too farre his motion, more artificiall than naturall, grounded vpon affection rather than reason: For that saying of Isocrates ought well to be weighed, who being demaun­ded, what was Rhetorike; answered, to make great things little, and little, great: wherefore, after Aeschines wasErasm. libr. 8. Ap [...]ph. banished from Athens, comming to Rhodes he made an Oration to the people in declaration of his cause of exile; they wondered at the Athenians, who had banished him so vndeseruedly: O quoth hee, you did not heare what Demosthenes answered to my reasons; ascribing wholy the cause of his exile, to the force and eloquence of De­mosthenes oration. By this example we see proued, that commonly wise Rhetoricians affirme, that Rhetorike in an ill cause, is a two edged sword in the hand of a furious man. Yet I would not by this condemne the facultie of eloquence, which I confesse, if it be well vsed, to be most profitable for the Church and common-weale: but because at this present it is sophisticated, by many, who couer stincking matters with fragrant flowers, and with a few sugred words temper the gall of their pernicious obiects; therefore euery wise man ought rather to exa­mine the Orators reasons, than to follow his intent with a seduced affection.

The fift rule. When men are possessed of a vehement passion, deale not with them by reprehension or indig­nation, especially in vehement manner, except it be some person that is superior, or in authoritie, but rather by a mild and soft sort of persuasion. The reason of this rule may well be gathered out of that wee haue hitherto deliuered: for contrarie passions breed hatred and dissen­tion, [Page 100] wherefore hee that is passionat, will hardly be per­suaded by him whom hee conceiueth contrarie to him: yea often those that at other times were good friendes, in time of passions for some such opposition, fall into end­lesse contention; for as we see, when a house in the midst of the streete is vehementlie inflamed, it were bootlesse to quench the flame with water, but the best remedie, and commonly practised, is to pull downe the next houses, that thereby the lacke of foement might diminish the flame [...]so, him that rageth with anger, hardly you shall ap­pease by wrangling or chiding; but either answere mild­ly, for Mollis responsio mitigat iram, a soft answere mit­tigateth anger: or, aunswere nothing, withdrawing the matter of anger from sight: the same in vehement lust or sadnes may bee practised, as in the particular Treatises shall be deliuered.

This rule holdeth vniuersally in all those which be our equalles, or at the least doe not much exceed vs in e­state, or wee them. But if a superiour, or a magistrat see his inferior, or subiect, vehemently caried in any passion, he may threaten, or reprehend him, because one passion often cureth another: so here the passion of feare may expell the passion of anger, lust, or what else soeuer tempteth, either to the passionats euill, or any disor­der in the common-weale: albeit, if the passion tend not presently to some sinne or great offence, better I hold it to deferre such reprehensions till the subiect be more ca­pable of them.

The sixt rule. No man ought to be employed to any office, act, or exercise, contrarie to his naturall passions and inclination. This rule concerneth all sorts of supe­riours [Page 101] in the imployments of their subiects, all parents for the education of their children, schoolemaisters for the training vp of their schollers. The ground of this rule dependeth of long experience, and reason. For by experience we learne, that men be oftentimes imployed to one trade, and neuer can profit therein: contrariwise, when either they of themselues, or others, do change that course to another, whereunto they were inclined, they become very excellent men. I knew one in Flaunders imployed of his friends to be a marchant against his in­clination, but he neuer scarce could abide to deale in mar­chandise: and so at last therwith awearied, left them, and turned his course to studie, wherein he excelled, and be­came one of the rarest preachers there; I my selfe heard him preach after, very godly and learnedly: a hundred such examples I could bring you. Reason also prooueth the same most manifestly: for three things are required of necessitie, to attaine to the perfection of any science, cunning, or office; Nature, Art, & practise: Nature affor­deth capacitie of wit, strength of bodie, and inclination of mind; the which inclination, if it be lacking, the sub­iect striueth against the streame, and although by force and constraint, nolens, volens, he follow such a trade a­gainst his mind, he may peraduenture doe some thing with great difficultie, the which labor if he had bestow­ed in that thing whereunto he was inclined, he would haue become a most excellent man.

This rule may not be vnderstood so absolutely, but that it admitteth some limitation; for some contrarie in­clination or passion proceedeth not from defect of na­ture, or abilitie of mind, but from an ill and vitious selfe­will, [Page 102] or wilfulnesse: and then it were good with sweet­nesse and inticements to allure such a person to follow that science, art, or trade, whereunto nature most incli­neth him. Another exception is, if the impediments of Nature bee but small, and the habiliments otherwise great, then the one ought to ouerrule the other; and af­ter a little labour in ouercomming the impediment, will follow a great facilitie in the atchieuement of the rest.

The seuenth rule serueth for great persons, who com­monly neuer resist their passions: therefore if a man vn­derstand once their inordinat affections, he may be very well assured to haue gained much ground in preuailing with them. And therefore wee see vsually, that if men see such persons addicted to this or that affection, to win their good wils, they will foster vp such fancies; if they be delighted in musicke, they present them with instru­ments, if in riding with horses, if in hunting with dogs, if in studie with literall labours, &c. for by thus feeding their fancies, they win their friendship.

Finally, there be generall hinderances, common to all, or most men, to get vertue and learning, and those ought by diligence and labor to be cut off; for the sweet fruits of vertue spring from bitter rootes of mortificati­on, and the praise of learning proceedeth from industrie and labour: therefore let no man persuade himselfe to attaine vnto any singular cunning, except his labour be singular.

Many more rules might be here deliuered, as that prowd men be pleased with praises, honor, and account; discontented with comparisons, with commending their equals, in not yeelding them honour, in disparaging their [Page 103] actions. Milde, modest, humble, meeke, are beloued vni­uersally, because we thinke them vertuous, who will ho­nour or not contemne vs. If thou wouldest obtaine any fauour, or inuite any man to pleasure, it were good to take him at such times as he is merrily disposed, as after meat. If thou wilt induce him to pensiuenesse, sorrow for his sinnes, the feare of God, or any sad passion, take him at such times as melancholie most oppresseth him; in darke and cloudie dayes, in the morning, in Winter, or in fine, at such seasons as that passion raigneth ouer him. These and many more I could set downe, but the order of method requireth they should bee allotted to particular Treatises. Wherefore I will conclude this Chapter with this sentence: That as hee is imprudent which hath strong passions, and endeuoureth not to con­ceale them from others, so he may be accounted vnpolliticke, who knoweth another mans passions, and cannot preuaile against them.

THE FOVRTH BOOKE, Wherein is explaned, how Passi­ons may be discouered.

CHAP. I.

AS by experience men may dis­couer the inclinations of dogs and horses, and other beastes, euen so by certaine signes wise men may gather the inclinati­ons whereunto other men are subiect. I omit heere what passions euery countrie incli­neth vnto: like wise, to what sorte melancholy, sanguine, flegmaticke and cholericke persons are addicted: for this was insinuated sufficient­ly aboue: neither will I handle what sortes of men, pas­sions most ouer-rule; for in the same place this was sufficiently entreated, onely I will brieflie deliuer some meanes, whereby in particular conuersation, euery one may discouer his fellowes naturall inclinations, not by philosophicall demonstrations, but onely by naturall coniectures and probabilities, because that wise men [Page 105] mortifie their passions, and craftie men dissemble: yet we may for the most part attaine vnto the knowledge of them, for that most men follow the instinct of Nature, and few, either the precepts of reason, or exquisit crafti­nesse, by which two meanes passions are concealed. He therefore that desireth to discouer an others passions or inclinations, after he hath considered from what coun­trey he came; if he be some of those mentioned hereto­fore, then he may discourse vpon him, and withall marke what passions are common to such persons, and after descend to these notes. For that we cannot enter in­to a mans heart, and view the passions or inclinations which there reside and lie hidden; therefore, as Philo­sophers by effectes find out causes, by proprieties essen­ces, by riuers fountaines, by boughs and floures the kore and rootes; euen so we must trace out passions and inclinations by some effects and externall operations. And these be no more than two, words & deeds, speech and action: of which two, knowledge may be gathered of those affections we carry in our minds: therfore first I will entreate of words, and then of deeds. Words repre­sent most exactly the very image of the mind and soule: wherefore Democritus called speech [...], theLacitius. image of life; for in wordes, as in a glasse may be seene, a mans life and inclination. Wherefore Diogenes Idem lib. 6. wondred that men would not buy earthen pottes before they proued by the sound whether they were whole or broken, yet they would be contented to buy men by sight before they prooued their speech: Whereupon grew that old prouerbe, frequented of Socrates and ap­proued of auntient Philosophers, Loquere vt te videam, [Page 106] speake that I may know thee: for passions so swell with­in the soule, that they must needs haue some vent, as Elihu said of himself; Loe, my belly is like to new wine lackingIob. 32. a vent, the which breaketh new vessels. Sometimes I haue enquired of sundry persons, what they thought of certaine mens inclinations; & I found that almost what­soeuer they had noted in others, commonly to proceed from one sort of speech or other. Plainely you may perceiue, if mens words openly tend to their owne com­mendations, if they bragge or boast of their valor in wars, learning, qualities giuen by nature, or purchased by la­bour, that they are of a proud disposition: if they dis­course lasciuiously or shamelesly, questionlesse what the tongue speaketh, the heart affecteth: if men talke of meat and drinke, of [...]ling and feasting, wishing for this meat, lamenting of that meat, such persons, for most part, ad­dict themselues to gluttonie: if they rage with furious words, braull or wrangle, such carie the conscience of cholericke. Thus you may coniecture by words, the pas­sions of the mind, when the speech manifestly carieth the coat of pride, choller, lust, or gluttonie. But many there be more wise than to commit such notorius errours, and blaze their imperfections to the eyes of the world: there­fore wee must sound out a little further, and wade some­thing deeper into a certaine secret suruey of mens spee­ches, to see if we may discouer some more hidden passi­ons. And this, either in the maner, or matter of speech.

Much talke.

HEe that talketh and pratleth too much, both by prophane and holy Writers, is accounted vnwise or rather foolish. Hereupon came those voices, Totum spiritum suum profert stultus, The foole puttethPro. 29. 11. foorth all his spirit: but Sapiens differt, & reseruat in po­sterum, A wise man deferreth and reserueth it for after­wardes. And beneath, Vidisti hominem velocem ad lo­quendum? stultitia magis speranda est quam illius correptio. Hast thou seene a man prone to speake? foolishnesse isVerse. 20. rather to be expected than his amendment. Wherefore fooles cary their hearts in their mouthes, wise men their mouthes in their hearts: for fooles speake, and then deli­berat; but wisemen first deliberat with reason, and then speake with circumspection. By this may be gathered the reason why ianglers & praters deserue to be registred in the catalogue of fooles, because many fancies come in­to mens minds, & he that wil poure foorth all he concei­ueth, deliuereth dregges with drinke; and as for the most part, presently men apprehend more folly than wisedom, so he that sodainely vttereth all he vnderstandeth, blab­beth foorth more froath than good liquor: and thus, much speech and hastie, proceedeth from rash foolish­nesse: the which passion raigneth, for the most part, in yong men, women, and doting proud old age. Therefore Theocritus sayd, that Anaximines had a flood of wordsStob. serm. 34. and a drop of reason: For if you descant vpon some long tale or discourse of theirs, you shall find them as void of matter, as prodigall in words. The cause hereof [Page 108] I take to be their lacke of iudgement; for whatsoeuer occurreth to their minds concerning any matter, they thinke such conceits, as they are new to them, so they should be to others; whereas in very deed other better wittes reiect and contemne them: wherefore the leaues of loquacitie spring from the root of small capacitie.

Taciturnitie.

SOme contrariwise bee of too little speech, the which taciturnitie, although it repugneth to modestie, which standeth betwixt these two extreames, yet commonly wise men account this extreame more secure; for many words almost euer offend, but silence very rare­ly: and therefore the Philosophers say, that he which will learne to speake, ought first to learne to hold his peace. This silence may proceed sometimes of sottishnesse, be­cause a man knowes not how to reason, and so you see clownes, or dull persons, not able to speake in a wise company. Sometimes of feare, as I haue knowne a most excellent Rhetoritian in writing, yet most vnable in spea­king, for the presence of his auditors did exceedingly af­fright him. Others vse it for prudence & pollicie, because in conseruation, when men either would conceale their owne affections, or discouer others; prudence and pol­licie require a space of silence, because the wisest man in the world, if hee talke long and much, without pre­meditation, will hardilie keepe close his passions from discreet hearers.

Slownesse in speech.

SOme sorts of men speake very slowly, and so leisure­ly, that a cart of hay might passe almost betwixt one word and another; the which manner of speech, is very lothsome and tedious to their auditors, and especi­ally to some quicke spirits intollerable. This lingering may proceed from some impediment of the instruments of speaking, a slownesse of conceiuing, or a certaine vaine conceit that men haue of their owne wisedome, the which they would distill into other men, drop by drop, as water falleth from the Limbecke; for they thinke, if they doe vtter their words faster, they should spill some of their prudence. And indeed, among dull persons of slow capacitie, I thinke it not farre amisse; except they linger so long, that before their ending, they forget their beginning: but amongst persons of good vnderstanding, it argueth, either slownesse of wit, or contempt of their vnderstanding, and it cannot be but maruellous molest­full vnto them, like as if a man were extreamely thirstie, and one should giue him drinke by drops, which maner of deliuerie cannot but grieue him, although the drinke be neuer so excellent: euen so, men of quicke capacitie haue a sharpe appetite, and would be presently satisfied, wherefore long lingering in speech hindereth greatly their naturall inclination and desire. Yet for all this I must confesse, that in some maiesticall and very graue persons, whose prudence and wisedome men much admire, few words pithie and leisurely spoken, argue both wisedome, grauitie, and magnanimity, as afterwards in the passion of boldnesse shall be declared.

Rashnesse in speech.

AS some men slide into slouthfulnesse, and lingering too much in their words, so others fall into a grea­ter extreamitie of rashnes and precipitation. TheseIob. 32. may well bee compared to new wine, that by venting bursteth the bottle? these bee foolish mouths whichProuer. 15. euer bluster foorth follies: these beare words in their mouths, as dogs arrowes shot in their thighs, the whichEcclesi. 19. so trouble, tosse and turmoile them, that they neuer can be quiet till they be drawne forth: euen so rash men in speech, haue an arrow in their tongues, they neuer rest till they haue vttered their minds. Such commonly are with child with their owne conceits, and either they must be deliuered of them, or they must die in child-bed. I haue seene some of these men of very fine wits, but not setled iudgements, they excell in apprehension, but faile in discretion; if they could stay themselues, and mo­derat a little their naturall furie and hastinesse, these would become very rare men: but for the most part, those I dealt withall of this constitution, I haue found to follow their owne inclination, and so with many good things they vtter many follies, yea many perni­cious conceits, and often daungerous; because, as they apprehend in euery matter, many things, and passe be­yond the common reach of ordinarie wits, so they with­out discretion, blab out good or bad, right or wrong, daungerous or not daungerous, and vtter what they conceiue, without iudgement, discourse, or reason: wher­fore such men may well bee called wittie, but not wise. [Page 111] These also easily contemne others, they are very hote in what they apprehend, and selfe-loue adioyneth an ac­count of their credit, and so rendereth (them obstinat in their owne opinions. This effect, in fine, proceedeth from lacke of iudgement, a prowd conceit of their owne conceits, a bold, hote and rash affection: and in fine, they often change their purposes, and alter their determinations.

Affectation in speech.

SOme haue a peculiar manner of parley, they speake in print, hunt after metaphors, coyne phrases, and labour extreamely that their wordes may smell of subti­litie, elegancie, and neat deliuerie, in such affected sort, that for the most part, they leaue nothing behind them, but a sent of foolish affectation and verball pride. These may well be compared to certaine birds which sing well, yet carie no flesh vpon their backes, but are as leane as carion: they are not vnlike strumpets, who veile diseased carcasses vnder rich attire. Amongst a thousand you shall scarse finde one ripe in iudgement, or sound in con­ceit: these men doe spend their time and studies, to find out new phrases, and that which they conceiued with great labour they vtter with extreame difficultie, they stammer often, and commit many discords, if they continue long in discourse; for the most part, their Epi­logue consorteth not with their Exordium. If they pen any thing to bee presented vnto the view of the world, you shal euer haue one new coined word or other which neuer saw light before it issued out of the mint of their [Page 112] imagination, and it will beseeme them as well as a pea­coks fether a fooles cap. I heard once one of these worthy parolists who had got by the end the word in­tricat; he comming among as wise men as him selfe, tould them, that such a gentleman and he did beare most intricat loue one to another: he would haue said intier. Another had got the word expostulat, and he imagined it was to require, and so he requested a friend of his, to expostulat a certaine fauour at his lords hands in his be­halfe. This affectation in speech proceedeth from a most vaine and notorious pride; the which no man (almost) will deny that conuerseth with such sorts of per­sons: for if you demand any of their acquaintaunce, what opinion they hold of such men; no other aunswere they can yeeld you, than that their words smell of presump­tion and arrogance. I cannot moreouer excuse most of these persons from certaine effeminat affections, be­cause such speeches especially were inuented to tickle women and gallants eares, that by alluring wordes they might win the credit of wittie, and so beguile the weaker mindes. These inameld speakers, for the most part, condemne others as barbarous and ignorant, because they frame not their speeches according to their humors: yea they will passe further, and despise all Authors who affect not in writing, that they frequent in prating. And I my selfe haue heard some of them, as presumtuously as ignorantly, censure most profound Doctours, yea and call them dunces and dolts, because they either could not, or would not deliuer their conceits after the others customarie follies.

Scoffing speeches.

CErtaine men entertaine their company with scoffing, nipping, gibing, and quipping: they thinke to haue wonne a great victorie, if in discouering some others de­fect, they can make the company laugh merrily: they wil seeme to make much of you, but the embracements of scorpions follow stinging tailes. This scoffing procee­deth from some, of meere simplicitie and foolishnesse, as common iesters, and therefore wise men weigh not such follies: others iest for recreation without harme, with no other intention, but onely to be merry: but those which especially ought to be marked, and their company es­chewed, so quip and nip, that they principally pretend to discredit, or shame those persons at whom they iest: and this scoffing manner is most malicious, and it proceedeth from pride and enuy, because, either they would con­temne others, or else make men not haue so good a con­ceit as they had before. And thus much concerning the maner of speech: As for the matter and obiect of talke, much might bee said, but I will abridge the matter as briefly as I can.

Discouerie of passions in the mat­ter of talke.

IF (as I sayd in the beginning of this chapter) men talke openly of such subiects as manifestly shew the ex­cesse of some passion; no man can call in question, but that such men are addicted to such passions: yet for that [Page 114] some (as I there set downe) carry themselues more wise­ly, we must looke into their demeanour more narrowly.

Disputation aboue the speakers capacitie.

SOme men will dispute, or rather wrangle about mat­ters exceeding their capacitie, as a Cobler of Chiual­rie, a Tailor of Diuinitie, a Farmer of Physicke, a Mer­chant of Martiall affaires: and in fine, a number of men will meddle with those matters, which either surpasse their capacitie, or at the least, they vnderstand not, for lacke of exercise, studie, or practise. Sometimes I haue heard these batchellors hold talke so wilfully and obsti­natly, in matters of Philosophie and Diuinitie, with such grosse errours and absurdities, that any wise man would either haue despised them for malapert and contentious, or else haue registred them in the predicament of fooles.

And without all question, this manner of speech, or wrangling, or let vs call it disputation, cannot but pro­ceed from great ignorance and arrogancie: for no wise man will contend in such matters as he knoweth not. Whereupon came that saying of Aristotle; Euery man ought to be credited in his Art: and that other common prouerbe; Let not the cobler passe his pantofle. For confirmation hereof, I will bring no better argument than euery mans common experience. There is no man (I thinke) but commonly he applieth himselfe to one thing or other, this trade or that, some studie or art: as for example, a Printer, or a Goldsmith; if another man ignorant of his art, should come and dispute with him, [Page 115] and condemne him, because he vseth such and such in­struments, this or that manner of working; he would laugh, and account him ignorant, as one that speaketh rather by chance than cunning, and hold him for more bold than wise: so questionlesse let these men assure themselues, that if they dispute of that they know not, they must be accounted presumptuous, although they would not. Neither for this I disallow some good wits, to propound their difficulties which occurre in matters wherein they are not practised; as for Lawyers in Diui­nitie, Physitians in Law, and Diuines in Physicke, espe­cially to such men as commonly are accounted learned in those faculties; yet not to contend much, because the further they passe forward, the harder it will be for them to wind out againe. This rule admitteth some exception; for I haue knowne Diuines very good Physitians, and Lawyers not altogether ignorant of Diuinitie, yea and Physitians practised in them both; in such cases often­times those of one profession may excell those of ano­ther: but this I hold for very rare, because, he that em­ployeth his wit to many sciences, commonly cannot be excellent in any. Wherefore men that be vnlearned, but discreet, either will not moue any questions in such mat­ters as passe beyond the sphere of their capacities, or else in such sort, as they rather intend to learne than to con­tend. But what shall a man doe when he falleth in com­panie with these wranglers, who neither are able to pro­pound a difficultie; nor capable of a good and solid an­swere? Questionlesse, it is a most molestfull life to liue in conuersation with such idiots: yet the best course I can find with them is by some palpable absurditie to reduce [Page 116] them to an open ignorance, as once befell a friend of mine, that talked with a vaine puritane (who vaunted he vnderstood all the word of God:) well then quoth the o­ther, I wil proue by Gods word you may not eat a blacke pudding; for we haue commaunded by the holy Ghost and the Apostles in the 15. of the Actes, that we should abstaine from eating of blood and strangled meates, now sir this precept is here set downe and commaunded to be kept, where haue you in all the scripture a warrant to transgresse it? The sillie fellow was brought to such an ex­tremitie, as I thinke this argument was the best lesson that euer hee learned in his life, to curbe his owne pre­sumptuous ignorance.

Spirit of Contradiction.

SOme men in speech are possessed with the spirit of Contradiction, and opposition; for they will shew themselues in company, able to controll, and gaine­say other mens opinions: because then they suppose the victorie gotten, when they crow ouer their compani­ons. Such conuersation cannot but displease the com­panie, those persons being a burthen to their fellowes: for as euery man liketh his owne opinion, and desireth it should be approoued, so all men mislike those that con­tradict them, and hold for false that they deliuered for true. This contradictious speech lieth rooted in vaine­glory, which spreadeth her braunches in other mens minds, by despising that they approoue: and I thinke no better remedie can be vsed, to amend such a sort of peo­ple, than that a gentleman vsed in Spaine to a gentlewo­man [Page 117] that did malapertly chide with him, Go your wayes (said he) whether you haue right or wrong, I know you must haue the last word: and so I hold him wise, who can smooth vp his talke, and leaue such quarreling and contentious spirits with the last word. Howbeit some­times they are tamed with as froward fellowes as they are themselues, who will as fast contradict them as they contradicted others. I would also aduise this sort of con­tradictors to eschew this defect, in regard of their owne credit, lest accustoming themselues so oft to contradicti­ons, they fall not into defence of many absurdities, and so, for lacke of reason, and too much pertinacie, they leese their reputation. True it is, that among ciuile gen­tlemen and eleuated spirits, it will often chance that there will arise in conuersation, a certaine diuersitie of opinion, and one must consequently oppose his iudgement a­gainst another: Wherefore in such a case, the opposer ought so to propound his reason, that he rather seemeth to desire to know the truth, than to triumph or insult ouer the other. The which he may the better performe, if hee vtter no word of contempt, if he be not very vio­lent in vehemencie of voice or action, if he make good the others reason as farre as it will extend and bring the matter in conclusion to a certaine reconciliation, or ma­ner of speech, or some such qualification.

Speciall matters.

TO discouer a mans passions, much helpeth the ma­ner of his speech, but I thinke, more the matter: for affection to any thing, if it bee vehement, must [Page 118] breake forth. Men that be vnwise, commonly speake of friuolous & base matters; vitious men of one or other sort of vice; graue and wise men of serious & profound mat­ters; and if they descend to some lower subiect, either they passe it ouer very sleightly, or therein touch some point so wittily, that ex vnguibus, you may know him a lion. Some men talke much of themselues, and as it were glancing at their owne commendation, and by little and little insinuating their owne praises: or if they be com­mended, presently you shall see them puft vp, and swel­ling with a vaine pleasure and delight they haue concei­ued of themselues. But you will perhaps demaund of me by the way, What if a man should commend me, or any thing appertaining vnto me, how ought I carry my selfe? If I accept the praise, I shall be accounted prowd; if I denie it, not to be so, I shall seeme to reprehend the praiser, and condemn him for a liar or a flatterer. In such a case, because it occurreth daily, therefore good it were, to foresee and prouide an answere presently. As Alfonsus king of Arragon answered an Orator, who had recited a long panigericall Oration of his praises; the king saidPanorm. lib. 1. de reb. gest. Al­fons. to him: If that thou hast said consenteth with truth, I thanke God for it; if not, I pray God graunt me grace that I may do it. Or else a wise man may say, This praise I deserue not, but your affection bettereth my actions: or, You by good nature and loue rather marke the little good I doe, than many defects therein committed: or, The spectacles of loue forceth you to censure all my im­perfections in good part. By this meanes you shall auoid a certaine vaine complacence in your owne doings, which offendeth much those who are giuen to censure [Page 119] your actions, neither shall you rudely denie that, your friend of courtesie affirmeth to be true.

Concealing and reuealing of secrets.

AS some are so secret, that they neuer will open any thing, almost, touching their own affaires; so others contrarily are so simple and blabbish, that they discouer many of their conceits and matters, especially concer­ning themselues, to any man, almost at the first meeting. The former, commonly, are craftie, because friendship requireth some communication in secrets, principally, if he be an especiall friend: yet this offence may well be tol­lerated in this mischieuous world, and declining age, wherein profit is prized, and friendship despised; or at least, men loue men more for their owne interest, than for vertue. Therefore, if thou be wise, trust no man with that thou wouldest not haue publickely knowne, except he be a tried friend by long experience, yea, although he be thy friend: but vitious (if amongst vitious persons there may be true friendship) assure thy selfe, that by ope­ning to him thy mind, thou hast halfe reuealed publickly thine owne secret: for such persons vsually (if they bee young men, women, or of a very ill behauiour) be vn­wise, blabbish, and most indiscreet in their speeches: be­sides, their loue being grounded in proper interest of plea­sure and gaine, when these by chaunce or displeasure shall faile, then persuade thy selfe, that all they know shall be reuealed, because such imprudent persons suppose that friendship once being dissolued, they are not bound any more, either to keepe secret, or conserue thy credit, and [Page 120] so with one breath they blow all away. Wherfore I take it for a generall rule, that a man shold reserue his secrets of importance, either to himselfe; or not to manifest thē, but only to honest & vertuous friends, least it befall vnto him as happened to three students in a colledge where I liued some yeers. It chanced a person of some authoritie there, wrot to the superior of the Colledge, a letter in discōmen­dation of those three students, all being mē in age, & good Scholers: this letter was showne by the superior, to one of these three; yet because it concerned not so much himselfe, as the other two, he marked not well the contents thereof: the superior gaue him strait order, that he should in no case reueale it to the other two; he promised, but performed it not, for presently he signified to them both as much as he remembred: the one of them being tou­ched something to the quicke, presently deuised a way how to come by the letter; and in fine, secretly got a sight of it by a certaine deceit: he signified to both the o­thers the contents thereof, yet being sharply prickt ther­with, he fell into a chase with the person that had written the letter, and spared not to signifie as much to the supe­riour, who wondered how he came by the contents ther­of. After a little while, he which wrote the letter, came to the Colledge, and hearing how the person which cha­fed in that extreame manner, had gotten intelligence of the letter, (because he was one of some authoritie) he cal­led him which first had reuealed the matter; who swore, that he neuer had vttered any such words, but indeed that the other had by a stratageme gotten knowledge of the letter: then the person which wrote the letter called him that so wililie had found it foorth, and (although he had [Page 121] sworne, neuer to discouer that the other had reuealed vnto him) presently he signified all the matter vnto him, and he then against his promise, reuealed the summe vn­to the person in authoritie, of the other; and thus all three broake their promises and their oathes, by reuealing of secrets. Who that knew these men, would scarcely haue beleeued, that any such errours could by them haue bene committed; but by this experience (because I was priuie to all their dealings) I got occasion, to suspect falshood in fellowship, to trie ere I trusted; and finally, thought none more secret than a man to himselfe: for many hearts must haue many breathings; and few can conceale from their friends any secret, when their friends reueale some secrets vnto them: and for that almost there liueth none so barren of friendship, but hee hath [...]me whom he tru­steth, therefore hardly from him he can keepe secret his owne heart, and what his friends reuealed vnto him.

Fained secrets.

YOu haue another sort of men, whome you may call, cousining friends: for in shew they pretend friendship, but in effect, cousonage or flattery. They will come to you very seriously, and deliuer a smooth tale in secret, and coniure you, that in no case you should reueale it: you promise and performe it, but your friend will not keepe that secret, for he presently, when your backe is turned, will doe as much to another, the second, and third; and so in fine, you shall haue that publique which was conceiued for secret. This couso­nage proceedeth from craftinesse, and dissembling friend­ship, [Page 122] because true friendship admitteth not many to com­munication in secrets. It may also spring from a laui­shing and too open a mind, for that indeed such a person cannot conceale any thing in his heart from such as doe seeme (in some sort) to be addicted to his friendship. I haue knowne diuers great persons subiect to this passion, but afterwards greatly crossed thereby, for those which once perceiued their humours, would neuer keepe close any of their secrets, and so by their pollicie they gained a reward like vnto liars, who though they say truth are not beleeued; euen so, such coyners of secrets haue not their secrets concealed, although they speake secrets in­deed: and one speaking of such a person said, he reuealed secrets to the whole citie: as who should say, he sold his secrets publiquely and the wiser sort would laugh in their sleeues to heare him speake of secrecie.

Sowers of dissention.

OTher men more maliciously pretend friendship, and vse strange dealing, either to make friends, or to breed dissention: some I haue found of such an humour, that if they see two conuerse familiarly together and one to affect much another, they, vnder colour of amitie, will goe secretly and reueale to the one of them, what they know, or heare, or that the other person his friend, secretly spoke or wrought to his discredit; yea, diuers things they will relate, by their owne malice in­uented, as by his friend discouered: yet this they will not deliuer, but vnder an oath, that he should not detect them to the other, whereby he of simplicitie often re­uealeth [Page 123] all he knew of his friend, because he beleeued his friend in very deed had betrayed him; whereas, for the most part, all was but a bait, forged to catch the seely simple soule. Presently after, they conuent the other, whom in secret they tell all they had fished out of his friend, in his dispraise, and so learne what they can of the other, charging him withall, in no case to manifest that he heard to the other. This stratageme I know many politique superiors to haue frequented, and some persons of great pollicie, but of most small conscience. Because this wicked inuention proceedeth from a most malicious vncharitable, and enuious mind, which hateth the peace and concord of friends; it argueth also, a craftie poli­tique wit, apt to sift out other mens actions: for he ca­steth the poore man into an inextricable labyrinth: for forcing him to sweare, he cannot examine whether his friend spoke so ill of him, or no; lest by the notice thereof he should incur the crime of periurie: neither can he tol­lerat in his mind, that his friend should so notoriously abuse him: wherefore he resolueth himselfe, either who­ly to breake friendship, or at least, not to vse his friend so familiarly as before.

But how shall a man behaue himselfe in such a case? At the beginning whē he telleth thee thy friends defects, excuse them, supposing the relatour to be ill informed, or that he mistooke thy friend; for true friendship requireth, that a friend should in all cases (when euidently the con­crary is not conuinced) defend the good name and esti­mation of his friend; and thereby the sower of dissention, shalbe frustrated of his intention.

Much more I could deliuer about this subiect, but to [Page 124] wise men it sufficeth to shew the way, & they will follow further than I can direct them: simple men, for as much as I can see, must first trie & then trust; for their rule lieth in experience and practise, more than in reading and spe­culation: because their owne harmes, or their neigh­bours must schoole them, for few are capable for practi­call rules in vniuersall, or at least, they can not apply them to particular subiects.

The discouery of passions by exter­nall actions. CHAP. II.

THe internall conceits and affections of our minds, are not only expressed with words, but also declared with actions: as it appeareth in Comedies, where dumbe shewes often expresse the whole matter, and by gestures in dancing some can giue to vnderstand most mechanicall arts andCalius Rhodi­ginus lib. 5. c. 3. trades. The Rhetoritians likewise doe not content them­selues with the simple pronuntiation of their Orations, but also prescribe many rules of action, the which they hold so much the better, how much more liuely it repre­senteth the conceits and affections of the mind, because that both thorow the eares and the eyes of their audi­tors, they intend to imprint them in their soules the dee­per: for indeed, words and actions spring from the same root, that is, vnderstanding and affections: and as leaues, [Page 125] floures, and fruit declare the vertues of trees, so wordes and actions the qualities of minds. And as if the fruit or flowers be corrupted or vitious, we know the root must be infected: so if mens words or actions be disconsorted, doubtlesse the soule cannot be well disposed; for, as one said well, A troubled Fountaine yeedeth vnpure water, & an infected soule, vitious actions, Plutarch in Moralib.

In many externall actions may be discouered internal passions, as in playing, feasting, going, drinking, praising, apparelling, conuersing, and writing. Somewhat I will note of each one in particular, remitting the rest to the Readers diligent consideration: for to intreat of all, would exceed the sphere of my proiect; & by discoursing of these few, wise men may passe forward with the rest.

I. Discouery of Passions in play.

PLay pregnantly prooueth passions: for pride, chol­ler, and couetousnesse, commonly wait vpon great gamsters. Some, when they leese, are so inflamed with ire and choller, that you would take them rather for bedlams than reasonable creatures; they sweare, curse, and crie; euery word spoken against them, sufficeth to picke a quarrell, or deserueth (in their iudgements) a buffet. This inordinat behauiour argueth, first blind­nesse and folly; for if you aske them with whom they are offended, they themselues cannot shew you: not with themselues, for that were madnesse; with the dice? and that were as great follie; with fortune? but that is nothing: therefore wee must conclude, that they (in such fits) are fooles, and brawle with the very aire.

Besides, these chafing players, play not for recreation, but for gaine; they vse company, more for couetousnesse than for honesty; because, they would not fret so much at their loosing, if they affected not too much the win­ning: and in very deed they abuse the nature of play, the which was giuen as a medicine to recreat mens afflicted minds: but these, preposterously rather afflict the mind, & make it a poison: for they are so anxious in themselues, and many feare so much to leese, that as soone as a little summe is drawne from them, you could hardely discerne whether the heart were more vexed with griefe, or the tongue defiled with oathes. I would truely that in euery common-weale princes should punish all persons, that play greater games than their abilitie doth affoord; for I take such sorts of exercises to be most pernicious, for ma­ny reasons, to the state; and I thinke the punishment mee­test for them, should be, that it were lawfull to beg them for Wardes, and giue them tutors, because they lacke discretion to vse their money. Rarely you find great play­ers, that carry not proud minds, who if they win, they vaunt of gaine, if they leese, they doe brag of losse: as a Spaniard in a brauado, thought he deserued great com­mendation, because hee was able one night to leese ten thousand crownes at dice.

Others, in play shew likewise their passions, albeit they exceed not much the lawfull quantity requisit to re­creation, yet they carry a secret pride, & vehement desire to win, because they would not be inferior to others, euen so much as in play: wherefore, if any cast come crosse vnto them, they will chafe as much for a penny, as ano­ther man for a pound. These men questionlesse haue [Page 127] some little shrubs of pride and vanitie: for although the most pleasure in play consisteth in the victorie; yet to af­fect it too much, to wrangle, to chafe, to fret therefore, argueth an vnmortified affection, the which wise men ought to ouercome, because such passions are in very deed childish, and vndecent for graue persons.

Some men wholly consecrat themselues to play, ei­ther you shall haue them at dice, cards, bowles, or some such game. These, as vnprofitable members, deserue to be cut from the bodie of euery good commonweale; for what wise man would tollerat a seruant in his house, which did nothing but eat, drinke, and play? They weigh little their soules, for if they did, doubtlesse they would spend better their time, because it seemeth that they were rather created to play than to labour, addicting them­selues more to the pleasures of the bodie, than to the ser­uice of the soule, and most like bruit beasts follow the inordinat appetite of sence, more than the right rule of reason. These actions proceed from a soule altogether depriued of vertue, and replenished with vice, which bet­ter may be named brutish than reasonable.

By this it appeareth, that those that are addicted much to play, are sensuall, chafers in play are couetous, great gamesters are foolish: the first getteth base pleasure, the second gaineth great vexation, the last winneth pouertie: all seeme to loue themselues; but doubtlesse, all hate their soules: I say, they seeme to loue their bodies, but indeed they are most cruell enemies, for they are butchers which feed their calues for slaughter; they are fishers, who cast a golden hooke with a little alluring bait, to catch the fishes for the frying pan; they cherish their bodies with a [Page 128] moment of pleasure, after to be punished with an eterni­tie of paine. To play too earnestly doth argue pride, co­uetousnesse, choller, or follie: to play too carelesly, trou­bleth good cōpany, & carieth some sparke of contempt: not to play at all, proceedeth either from extreame holi­nesse, grauitie, hypocrisie, or insensibilitie. Therefore in game vse the golden meane, play not too much, nor too seriously, nor to great game; take it as medicines, vse some attention, play for a trifle.

II. Discouery of Passions in feasting.

GReat feasters and gullars cannot but be subiect to many vices: First, leacherie springeth from glutto­nie, because, as their seats are neere by scituation, so they are subordinat in operation; gluttonie is the fore­chamber of lust, and lust the inner roume of gluttonie; therefore all disorders and tumults raised in the former, presently are perceiued in the latter. The superfluities of gluttony are norishments to leacherie, and great repasts swim vnder the froath of lust: wherefore, not without reason said some, Sine Cerere & Baccho friget Venus: Lust faileth where good cheere wanteth: and (almost) it is impossible that he should be continent in mind, that ac­custometh to gormandize his belly. But I know some will demaund, In what consisteth this gluttonie? where­unto I answere, That gluttons thinke, talke, and earnestly procure to haue great cheere, daintie dishes; they eate more than nature requireth; at the table they will haue the best; and in fine, the easiest rule to perceiue them, is to note their care and anxity to fare daintily, to feast of­ten, and therein to delight much.

Gluttouie causeth, not onely lecherie, but also bloc­kishnesse, and dulnesse of wit. Pingui [...] venter non generat subtilem sensu, say the Graecians; A fat belly engendreth not a subtile wit▪ for as if a man were drowned in a pud­dle of mire, he could not perceiue the light of the Sunne; euen so, a soule drowned in meat, fat, and blood, cannot behold the light of God: because, as Saint Basil noteth,Basil. in ser. de Ie [...]unio. when a cloud is interposed betwixt our eyes and the Sunne, it hindreth the light from vs: euen so there riseth from a gluttonous stomacke, a multitude of vapors to the braine, which causeth such a mist before the eyes of the soule, that shee cannot possibly speculate any spirituall matters, concerning her selfe, or the glory God. Here­upon followeth a rule to bee marked, That such men, in the heat of their gulling feasts ouershoot themselues ex­treamely, and the excesse of feeding venteth foorth in superfluous speaking: for the wit being a little distempe­red with fumes, the tongue breaketh forth into indiscreet words, and often they vtter so much in that foolish vaine, that afterwardes costeth them both griefe and paine: whereas a discreet man, obseruing them in such hu­mours, might get great aduantage, and reape no small commoditie.

Many more crooked braunches spring from this stemme of gluttony and feasting: for hardly at such times they can conceale secrets: vpon a full paunch common­ly waiteth slouthfulnesse, sleepe, and ease, and except his stocke be good, it will soone be spent: besides, great fare breedeth many diseases, for as abundance of doung in­gendreth abundance of vermine; so, abundance of meat, abundance of filthie thoughts, and pernicious maladies: [Page 130] forgluttonie must be the nursse of Physitians, since, Plures occidit gula quam gladius.

III. Discouery of Passions in drinking.

SVperfluitie of meat, causeth dulnesse of mind; but su­perfluitie of drinke, bereaueth men of wit: for as I haue seene in some hospitals of mad men, sundry diffe­rences of mandnesse, so I haue found not vnlike humours of drunkennesse; for some are merry mad, some melan­choly mad, some furious, others fainting: so in drunken­nesse, some you shall haue merry drunke, others dead drunke, others raging, others casting.

The Passions from whence this vice proceedeth, and whereunto it leadeth, are many: Drunkennesse groweth of intemperance, and causeth lust and vncleane talke: Nolite (saith the Scripture) inebriari vino in quo est luxu­ria, Ehes. 5. 18. Be not drunke with wine, wherein is lecherie. Drun­kennesse bereaueth men of reason, and for the present time maketh mad.

To drunkards commit no secrets, for experience hath taught vs, that many haue reuealed most secret matters when they were drunke; for hardly hee can keepe thy secret, who cannot keepe his owne wit. I heare in high Germany, that parents will see men drunke before they marry their daughters vnto them, because they wil know to what kind of drunkennesse they are subiect; and ac­cording to the good or ill qualities (if a drunkard can haue good qualities) they iudge him conuenient or not for their marriages. There is (almost) no passion in these men that you shall not discouer in their drunkennesse, be­cause [Page 131] that reason being buried in them, they rule them­selues wholly by inordinat appetites and sensitiue appre­hension, which cannot conceale at such time, the verie dregges of their passions. And therefore to conclude, drunkards haue little feare of God, they hurt their bo­dies, they dull their wits, they clog the soule with vices, they spend their substance, they spoyle the common­weale, one deuouring more than would suffice for three or foure: and finally, they are neuer to be trusted with any secret matter; for I hold him for a simple man, that cannot sound a drunkards soule, euen to the bottome.

IIII. Discouery of Passions in gesture.

THis subiect is very ample, and would require al­most a whole booke: but I will onely touch super­ficially some chiefe points. The gestures of the bo­dy may bee reduced vnto these heads; motions of the eyes, pronuntiation, managing of the hands and bodie, manner of going.

A rowling eye, quicke in mouing, this way, and that way, argueth a quicke, but a light wit, a hote cholericke complexion, with an vnconstant and impatient mind: in a woman, it is a signe of great immodesty and wanton­nesse. The reason hereof I take to be, for that such quick­nesse proceedeth from abundance of hote spirits, which cause good apprehension, but because they are not cor­rected by modesty, and vertue, it seemeth the subiect let­teth them range, according to their naturall inclination, which tendeth to quicknesse and lightnesse.

Heauie dull eyes proceed from a dull mind and hard [Page 132] of conceit, for the contrarie reason: therefore wee see all old persons, sicke men, and flegmaticke, slow in tur­ning their eyes.

Eyes much giuen to winking, descend from a soule subiect to feare, because it argueth a weakenesse of spi­rits, and a feeble disposition of the eyelids.

To stare fixly vpon one, either commeth from bloc­kishnesse, as in rustickes; impudencie, as in malitious per­sons; prudence, when from those in authoritie; inconti­nencie in women.

Who open their eyes, and extend them much, com­monly be simple men, but of a good nature.

Eyes inflamed and fierie, are the natiue brood of choler and ire: quiet and peaceable, with a certaine se­cret grace and mirth, are children of loue and friendship.

In Voice.

THere came a man to Demosthenes, desiring his helpe to defend his cause, and told him how one had beaten him: Demosthenes answered him again, saying, I doe not beleeue this to bee true thou tellestPlutar [...]. in De [...]ost. me, for surely the other did neuer beat thee. The plain­tife then thrusting out his voice aloud, said; What, hath he not beaten me? Yes indeed, quoth Demosthenes, I beleeue it now, for I heare the voice of a man that was beaten indeed: whereby we may see how he coniectu­red, by the lowdnesse of his voice, the iust indignation of his mind: For indeed, men in ire and wrath, shew, by their pronuntiation, the flame which lodgeth in their breasts. Wherefore Cato gaue counsell, That [Page 133] souldiers in the warre should terrifie their enemies with vehement voices and cries. A small trembling voice proceedeth from feare, and such an one commonly hauePlutarc. in Ro. Apoph. great Oratours, or at least, it were good they should haue, in the beginning of their Orations, for thereby they win a certaine compassion and louing affection of their auditors. Much more might be said of this subiect, but for that it concerneth specially physiognomie, and naturall constitution of the organs and humours of the bodie, therefore I will omit it.

Managing of the hands and bodie.

IN discoursing, to vse no gestures, argueth slownesse; too much gesticulation commeth of lightnesse: mediocri­tie proceedeth from wisedome and grauitie; and if it be not too quicke, it noteth magnanimitie. Some men you haue alwaies fidling about their garments, either prying for moaths, binding of garters, pulling vp their stockings, that scarcely when they goe to bed they are apparelled: this proceedeth from a childish mind, and void of con­ceits: and if you deale with men in companie, it also sheweth a little contempt of those with whom you con­uerse, because it seemeth you little attend what they say.

Some cast their heads, now hither, now thither, as wantonly as lightly, which springeth from folly & incon­stancie. Others scarce thinke they doe pray, except they wrie and wrest their neckes; which, either commeth of hypocrisie, superstition, or foolishnesse. Some gaze vp­on themselues, how proper bodies they beare, how neat and proportioned legs sustaine them, and in fine, al­most [Page 134] are inamored of themselues; so they are pleased with their owne persons: but this gesture displeaseth commonly, and proceedeth from pride and vaine com­placence in going.

To walke maiestically (that is, by extending thy legs foorth, and drawing thy body backe, with a slow and stately motion) in all mens iudgment vsually issueth from a proud mind, and therefore deserueth dispraise, ex­cept in a Prince, a Generall of an army, or a Souldier in in the sight of his enemies; because this manner of pasing sheweth an ostentation of the mind, and that a man would set foorth himselfe aboue others: which sort of vaunting, few can tollerat, because they can hardly suffer, that men should so farre inhance themselues aboue others.

To trip, to iet, or any such light pase, commeth of lightnesse and pride, because such persons seeme to take delight, that others should behold their singular sort of going. Fast going becommeth not graue men; for as philosophers hold, a slow pase sheweth a magnanimous mind: and if necessitie requireth not, a light pase argueth a light mind, because thereby wee know how the spirits are not sufficiently tempered & brideled; whereupon fol­loweth lightnesse of bodie and inconstancie of mind.

V. Discouerie of passion in Praysing.

I (Almost) neuer knew man discontented to heare his owne praise, and few there be who can tollerat to be dispraised: wise men doubt with Antisthenes the Philosopher, that when wicked men praise them, they [Page 135] haue committed some errour; and reioyce with Hector to be praised of vertuous men for their good indeuours. It were wisedome, not to praise any man exceedingly, but especially before a multitude, for that good men change their estates. What Emperor, in the beginning, was better than Nero? and who, in the end, more viti­ous? Salomon surpassed all his predecessours in wisedome, yet afterwardes fell into extreame follie. Wherefore it were wisedome to vse superlatiues very rarely, and say, such a man is vertuous, but not most vertuous. So there­fore praise good men, that thou reserue a caueat for their errours. Besides, commonly proud men cannot abide their equalls should much be commended, for the praise of the one obscureth the glory of the other; & as I haue obserued by experience, they either openly, or secretly will seeke to disgrace him and discouer some defects, the which impeacheth more his credit than your cōmenda­tion aduanceth his reputation, because that men be more prone to conceiue ill than good of others: therefore one said wisely, Calumniare semper aliquid haeret, speake euill, for euer some thing remaineth: that is, either a full persuasion, or a sinister suspition. Some men, when they haue done any thing worthy of praise, they either like hennes goe cackling in regard of their new layd egge, that is, blazing their owne works; or indeuour by secret insinuation, or grosse industrie, that others should commend them: as the Italian Poet did, who hauing made an Epigram which much pleased his fancy, shewed it to some of his friends, praysing it about the Skies: they presently demaunded, who was the Author? then he for very shame of pride, would not tell them that it was his, [Page 136] but with a fliering countenaunce well gaue them to vn­derstand, that the verses and the laughter were coosin germaines, and both issued from the same proud hart. In those Nations I haue dealt with all this secret passion: an itching humour of affecting praise, especially raigneth a­mong the Spaniards; for if a man will not publiquely praise their doings, they hold him to make little account of them, to be vnciuile, or perhaps their enemy. [...] this we may gather a very good rule to discouer passion [...] [...]or if that you see one much to please himselfe with others praises, and (as it were) to feed vpon the wind of mens words; doubt not but selfe-loue and vanitie possesse the best tenement of his heart: And this you may know, if the person praised, either openly confesse it, vnderhand insinuat it, or as it were with a smiling countenance silent­ly approue it: for as gold is tried by fire, so a man by the mouth of a prayser.

VI. Discouerie of Passions in Apparrell.

EXtraordinary apparrell of the bodie, declareth well the apparrell of the mind: for some you haue so in­constant in their at tire, that the varietie of their gar­ments pregnantly proueth the sicklenesse of their heads: for they are not much vnlike to Stage-players, who adorne themselues gloriously like Gentlemen, then like clownes, after, as women, then like fooles, because the fashion of their garments maketh them resemble these persons. And truely the Frenchmen and Englishmen, of all Nations, are (not without some good cause) noted [Page 137] and condemned of this lightnesse, the one for inuenting, the other for imitating; in other things we thinke them our inferiors, & herein we make them our maisters: and some I haue heard very contemptuously say, That scarce­ly a new forme of breeches appeared in the French kings kitchin, but they were presently translated ouer into the Court of England. This newfanglenesse proceedeth from an inconstant mind, a proud heart, and an effemi­nate affection. Augustus Caesar had alwayes in hatred, rich and gorgeous garments, because he sayd they wereSueton. banners blasing our pride, and neasts to breed leachery. Wherefore Saint Gregory plainly prooueth that glori­ousGregon in hom. attire proceedeth from pride, because that men or women will not vse their gallant garments, but in such places where they may be seene: and he that could sound the hearts of many vaine persons, should find the root of this gay apparrell an vnchast heart, and an arrogant mind. Whereunto well alluded Diogenes, being asked a question of a yoong man, very neatly and finly appare­led; he sayd he would not answere him before he put offLaer. lib. 6. his apparell, that he might know whether he was a man or a woman: declaring by his effeminat attire, his wo­manish wantonnesse.

As some offend in too much nicenesse, so others in too much carlesnesse and slouenry, not regarding in what manner and fashion they shew themselues abroad: which, in some, may come of a certaine contempt they haue of themselues, of pride, and the world; but this maner of mortification (howbeit I will not condemne all those that vse it, of hypocrisie) yet I hold, that for the most part, it carrieth a smell thereof: I know a man [Page 138] that some hold very godly and religious, yet when hee was to appeare before a prince, he would alwayes haue the barest cloke hee could get, to the intent the king might account him godly, mortified, and a despiser of the world: and perhaps Antisthenes went not farre a­wry when he saw Socrates in a torne coat, shewing a hole thereof to the people; Loe, quoth he, thorow this I see Socrates vanitie: for mortification standeth well with modestie and decent attire. Wherefore I take it vniuer­sally, that vnseemely garments, and neglect of apparell, for the most part, proceedeth from slouth, or hypocri­sie; for true and sound Vertue requireth grauitie and de­cencie.

Much might be said here concerning the newfangle madnesse, or lasciuious pride, or vaine superfluities, of womens pointing, painting, adorning, and fantasticall disguising: but I must say this vice in them to be reme­dilesse, because it hath bene in euery age, euer cried a­gainst, and neuer amended: and for my part, I am halfe persuaded this sinne carrieth with it a finall impenitence, which women neuer intend to change as long as they liue, but to carry it to the graue: for euery one will ex­cuse her selfe, because shee onely followeth the fashion and custome: if others would change, shee would bee contented to immitate; but if you aske another, she will say as much, but none will begin, and so their pride must be endlesse, and therefore incorrigible in this world, to be punished in another.

VII. Discouerie of passion in Conuersation.

COmmonly by conuersation you may discouer mens affections, for he that frequenteth good companie, for most part is honest; and he that vseth ill company, can hardly be vertuous: who euer saw a man very conuer­sant with drunkards, to be sober? who knew an indiui­duall companion of harlots, chast? I am not ignorant that a physitian may conuerse with sick men without in­fection, and cure them: but many physitians will scarce aduenture to deale with plaguie patients, lest in curing others, they kill themselues. Vices are plagues, and vici­ous persons infected: therfore it were good to deale with them a farre off, and not in such places where their vices are strongest, as with gl [...]ters in banquets, drunkards in tauernes, riotous persons in suspected houses, lest thou discredit thy selfe, and be infected with the others vice: as a gentleman I knew, who walking by Thames, and seeing his boy in watring his gelding to passe too farre, so that he was in danger of drowning, presently leapt in, thinking by swimming to deliuer them both, the boy caught hold of his masters foot, and puld him ouer head and eares, and so they were drowned all three for com­panie.

Who talks much before his betters, cannot but be con­demned of arrogancie, contempt, and lacke of prudence. To conuerse much with inferiours, as it breedeth con­tempt so it argueth a base mind, as though his conceits were no better than such persons deserued to be acquain­ted [Page 140] withall. Except inferiors be indued with some excel­lentContinuus aspe­ctus minus ve­rendos magnes homines ipsa satietate facit. Liu. lib. 35. Et maiestati maior ex longin­quo reuerentia Taci. 1. An. qualities: wherefore noblemen or princes may con­ferre with inferiors or subiects, if they be learned, mili­tarie men, or wise polititians: wherefore, to keepe, or win grauitie, great prudence it were, neuer to talke with those that be farre beneath vs in estate, and condition, but of serious matters: for such men, by sporting, wil account better of themselues, and in time, despise their superiors; for familiaritie aspireth to equalitie.

To enter into companie, although of equals, with­out some ciuile courtesie, or affable speech, commeth of rusticitie: to depart without taking of leaue, or salutation, argueth inciuilitie and contempt.

Too much familiaritie, with scoffing, and gibing, pro­ceeds from lightnesse, and rarely continueth without dis­sention; because that men are not at all times apt to re­ceiue iests: wherefore friendly iests euer carry with them a certaine respect: this fault I find more common among Frenchmen, and English, than any other Nation. Some, in conuersation can discourse well for some two or three dayes, but after that time their oyle is spent, they thrust out all they haue of a suddaine, & after become very bar­ren. These men be not commonly wittie, nor humble; for wittie men seldome are drawne drie in conceits, and humble men destill their knowledge according to their talents. Much more might be handled in this point, but because it rather concerneth ciuile conuersation, than in­uestigation of passions, I will omit it.

VIII. Discouerie of Passions in Writing.

WHo of purpose writeth obscurely, peruetteth the naturall communication of men; because we write to declare our minds, and he that af­fecteth obscurity, seemeth, not to be willing that men should conceiue his meaning. The holy Scriptures I al­wayes except, which for many causes admit some obscu­ritie. But for men, in their writing to follow such a phrase as hardly you can vnderstand what they say, cannot but proceed either from confused vnderstanding, because a cleere conceit breedeth perspicuous deliuerie, or affecta­tion of learning, which springeth from pride; for I haue knowne most excellent men endeuour to speake and write the greatest mysteries of our faith, in such plaine maner, that very deepe diuinitie seemed very easie. And I truely am of opinion, that he is the greatest Diuine, and most profitable to the common-weale, which can make his learning to be best conceiued.

To vse many Metaphors, Poetical phrases in prose, or incke-pot tearmes, smelleth of affectation, and argueth a proud childish wit. To be peremptorie and singular in opinions, to censure ill, or condemne rashly, without rendring some sound and strong reason, for the most part proceedeth from singular selfe loue, and a defectu­ous iudgement.

Some will condemne others for writing, because they thinke there bee Bookes written more than sufficient: This censure commeth, either from a sluggish mind, or enuious, to see others good endeuours commended; or [Page 142] else from grosse ignorance, because they neither know the nature of mens wits, nor the limits of humane vnder­derstanding: for if we see the art of sayling with the Com­passe, the exercise of Artillerie, the manner of Printing, of late yeeres inuented, augmented, and perfitted; Why may not diuers Sciences already inuented, be increased with new conceits, amplified with better Demonstra­tions, explaned in a more perspicuous manner, deliue­red in a more ordinat method?

Contrary to these be certaine itching spirits, who put euery toy in print, they prize their owne workes excee­dingly, and censure others iniuriously: these may well be compared to certaine wild vines, which bring forth ma­ny grapes, but neuer mature them: some doe it for same, and some for gaine, and both without discretion, and a­gainst their owne credit. Therefore great wisedome it were, to write something discreetly, that mens labours may, not onely profit themselues, but also be deriued to others: for what doe we account good in it selfe, if it bee not communicatiue of goodnesse, to others? Bonum est sui diffusinum. Yet would I haue men not to blab out their conceits without meditation, or good digestion; be­cause, if in all actions it concerneth greatly a mans de­meanour, to effectuat them with deliberation and ripe­nesse; so, much more in writing, which no man hasteth, being distilled drop by drop from the pen, and of it selfe permanent, not as words communicatiue to some few present auditors, but blazed to the world, and sent to all posteritie.

Some men, in writing, flow with phrases, but are bar­ren in substance of matter, and such are neither wittie nor [Page 143] wise: others haue good conceits, but deliuered after an affected manner; they put a little liquor into too great a vessell. Others are so concise, that you need a commen­tarie to vnderstand them; the former be not without all follie, and the latter lacke not some pride: yet those are more commendable than these, for those onely are tedi­ous thorow their prolixitie, but these are molestfull, be­cause they require too great attention, and make a man often spend many spirits, to win a slender knowledge.

Many write confusedly, without method and order, and such comprehend not their matter: others are too precise in diuisions, in such sort, that ere you come to the last part, you haue forgotten the first members: and this defect I find in many postils of scriptures. Good distincti­ons breed perspicuitie: but a multitude engendreth obscu­ritie; and best I hold it so to distinguish, that distinctions may rather be noted in matter than in words.

With this I thinke good to conclude the discouery of Passions in humane actions, omitting much more that might bee said in this matter; as what passions may bee discouered in laughing, in disputing, in crossing, in nego­tiating, and such like externall operations: and especially two discourses I haue omitted, or rather not printed though penned; the one is a discouerie of passions in censuring bookes, a matter not vnnecessarie for this cri­ticall age, wherein euery mans labours are araigned at the tribunall seat of euery pedanticall censurious Ari­starchs vnderstanding. The other, is discouerie of pas­sions in taking Tabacco. The former treatise was violent­ly kept from me, and therefore not in my power to print: the latter, vpon some good considerations was for a time [Page 144] suspended: but lest my labour should be too long, and the Discourse too tedious, I will leaue these, and many more, to the Readers wittie obseruation and deliberat iudgement.

Order or conference of Passions. CHAP. III.

WEe may conferre passions together in di­uers manners: First in knowledge; se­condly, in generation; thirdly, in in­tention; and fourthly, in degree of per­fection or dignitie.

What passion is first and best knowne vnto vs.

1 THomas affirmeth, that no passion is more sensiblyThom. in 1. 2. q. 26. [...]. 1. ad pri­mum. knowne vnto vs, than desire or concupiscence; for rendring a reason why our coueting appetite is com­monly called concupiscibilis, he saith the cause is, for that we name things, as we conceiue them: and therefore, be­cause we perceiue our desire most manifestly, wee call it, our coueting or desiring appetite: for, as he proueth out of Saint Augustine, Loue then most is felt when it is ab­sent from the obiect beloued. But I cannot herein con­sent with Thomas, because I thinke there is no man that euer perceiued in himselfe so vehement a desire of any thing he loued, as sadnesse and griefe when he was affli­cted with that he hated. In feare also who perceiueth [Page 145] not most sensibly that passion wherin men doe tremble, shake, and shiuer, yea sweat blood for very feare? as Maldonatus relateth, hee heard of those which saw aMaldo. in 26. ca. 1. Mat. Arist. lib. 7. de histor. arumal. ca. 16. & lib. 3. de part. ani. ca, 5. strong man at Paris, condemned to death, sweat blood for very feare. And he prooueth out of Aristotle, that this effect may be naturall. Neither Caietanes shift vpon Thomas serueth any thing to the purpose, that wee perceiue better our desires of the soule, without any cor­porall alteration of the body, than either loue, pleasure, or hatred: for this comment spoyleth the text, because hardly we conceiue any actions of the soule, but by these corporall alterations, the which induce vs to name them according to Thomas his meaning: neither is it true that we prooue by experience, without the motions of the body more sensibly concupiscence, than ioy or sadnesse: and this assumption was admitted of Caietane, without any probation. Wherefore I thinke we may best say, that of all passions wee prooue paine, griefe, sadnesse, pleasure, feare, and delectation are most notoriously knowne: yet because these vehement passions doe not affect vs so commonly, but at certaine times, and desires of those things we loue, continue the longest, and fall foorth oftenest; therefore men called our sensitiue appe­tite Concupiscibilis, coueting. First of all then, sadnesse most manifestly is knowne to vs, because wee suffer of­ten, and feele most sensible paine; then pleasure, then feare: the other are not so open, but sometimes they may exceed, and so more shew themselues, as ire, despe­ration, &c.

Order of Passions in generation or production.

2 DIuines and Philosophers commonly affirme, that all other passions acknowledge loue to be their fountaine, root, and mother; the reason I take to be for that al passions, either prosecut some good, or flie some euill: those which flie euill, as hatred, feare, sadnesse, presuppose the loue of some good, the which that euill depriueth, as for example; who hateth death, but he which loueth life? who feareth aduersity, but he that loueth prosperitie? who is pensiue in his sickenesse, but hee that loueth health? Loue then goeth before all those passions which eschew euil. Amongst them which prosecute good, loue likewise proceedeth, for the pas­sions of our minds are not vnlike the motions of our bo­dies: For as things naturally mooued, haue an appetite or naturall inclination to the place whereunto they are mooued, mooue, and rest therein; as the water which runneth so fast downe the mountaines, hath an instinct of Nature to be vnited with the Sea, for which cause we see brookes and flouds runne with such a maine force to attaine thereunto, when they come to the Sea; presently they ioyne in friendship, and liue in concord, ioyning to­gether as louing friends: euen so, we see in beastes, the horse loueth water when hee is thirstie, and therefore by desire hee seeketh out some riuer or fountaine; when he hath found it, he drinketh, pleaseth himself therewith, and so resteth contented. This ordinarie course keepe passions: but sometimes this subordination is changed, for if a man bee wounded, vpon a sodaine, the present [Page 147] passion of griefe and ire inuade him: and so per accidens, in many other cases, the foresaid order may be broken.

Order of Passions in Intention.

3 IF we discourse of those Passions which reside in the sensitiue appetite, it euer first intendeth pleasure and delight, because therewith Nature is most conten­ted: from which intention followeth loue, hatred, ire, and such like: this passion beasts most desire, yea children and sensuall persons wholy seeke after, and direct almost their whole actions thereunto, for pleasure is the pole­stare of all inordinat passions: and if a man examine himselfe thorowly, he shal find that riches, glorie, health, learning, and what else most men desire, aime common­ly at pleasure and delight of the body, because these plea­sures are easily perceiued, and in them the soule seemeth to purchase a quiet rest. Neuerthelesse, vertuous men, whose passiōs are ruled by reason, leuel at a higher mark, and subordinate pleasure to honestie, and delight to ver­tue; because (as we say) Glorie waiteth on Vertue, as the shadow followeth the body: euen so, vnto good actions followeth a certaine pleasure and sweetnesse; howbeit a good man giueth almes, yet dooth he not giue it with intention men should commend him, as hypocrites do, and so be repayd with the pleasure of a good reputation, but with the testimonie of a good conscience that hee doth it for the glorie of God.

Order of Passions in Dignitie.

4 IF we compare our passions in dignitie or perfe­ction, then those wherewith we prosecute good, are more excellent than those wherewith wee esteeme ill: and among these, loue holdeth the princi­pall place, and as a queene in dignitie preceadeth the rest: because that loue vniteth the louer in affection with the obiect beloued: loue is the root of other affections, loue finally maketh vs friends with God and man.

All we haue said of passions residing in our sensitiue appetite, the same we find in the reasonable passion, of our will, because the will hath such like acts, specified of the same obiects, directed to the same end: for as a Rhe­toritian will make an Epistle according to the rules of Grammer, as well as a Grammarian; euen so what our sensatiue appetite followeth or abhorreth, the same our will may prosecute or detest.

THE FIFT BOOKE of the Passions of the Minde: Wherein are deliuered the means to mooue Passions.

THe water which wee find in euery Citie, by three wayes passeth into it; either by foun­taines or springs, by riuers or conduits, or by raine, snow, or halestones: that is, some water ariseth, some passeth, some descendeth: so in like manner our imaginations or internall sences, and consequently our Passions, by three wayes are mooued; by humours arising in our bodies, by externall sences and secret passage of sensuall obiects, by the descent or commaundement of reason. How passions are stirred vp by humours was aboue deliuered, here onely remaineth to declare how they are prouo­ked by sences, and incited by the wit and will. And first of all we will begin with the motions of sences, as most knowne, obuious, and ordinarie.

How sences mooue Passions, and specially our sight §. 1.

GEnerally they loue and affect vanitie, for what is that they loue or can loue in the world, and worldly, but vanitie? that is, neither be­fore it is had, contenteth, nor when it is pos­sessed, fully pleaseth, nor after it is departed, satisfieth: For such things are vaine, which vanish away, and are re­solued into nothing. They search after lies, not onely be­cause all worldly allurements yeeld no felicitie and con­tentation as they beare vs in hand, but also for that in ve­ry deed and really they be lies, shewing one thing in the rind and externall apparance, and an other in the coare and internall essence: for cousining arts falsifie and so­phisticat nature, causing copper seeme gold, hypocrisie sanctitie, and sences surfeits the soules solaces.

All sences no doubt are the first gates whereby passe and repasse all messages sent to passions: but yet the scrip­tures in particular wonderfully exhort, commaund, and admonish vs to attend vnto the custodie and vigilance ouer our eyes. Dauid who had once vnwarily glaunced awry, and let goe the raines of his eyes, at his passions importunity, thought himselfe vnable without Gods spe­ciall grace to guide, direct, and withdraw them from va­nitie: and therefore requested him to auert them. Auerte Psal. 11. 8. oculos meos ne videant vanitatē. Salomon his sonne, inspi­red by Gods eternall wisedome, exhorteth vs to obserue2. Reg. 11. 1. (wherein he himselfe most grossely offended) and attend well our eyes, and therefore not to looke vpon a woman [Page 151] trimmed and decked vp. Auerte faciem tuam a muliere Sap. 9. compta.

Ieremie putting on the person of many of his carelesse people, lamented the losse which was befallen them for not keeping diligently the gates of their eyes. Oculus meus depredatus est animā meam, my eye hath sacked my soule: how O holy Prophet can the eye an externall sence, rob thy soule of her riches? ah it is easie to an­swere: The sence cannot bee free from theft and sinne, which openeth the gates & letteth the theefe in. Wher­fore Iob thought to preuent such harmes and dammages, and therefore cut off the occasions, couenanting with hisIob. 31. eyes, that hee would not somuch as thinke of a virgin, Pepigi faedus cum oculis meis, vt ne cogitarem guidem de virgine. And Salomon rendreth a reason hereof, Because perhaps he might haue bene scandalized, or induced to offend God, allured by her beautie, Virginem ne conspi­lias, Sap. 9. ne forte scandalizaris in decore illius.

Questionlesse the holy Ghost in sacred writ, would neuer haue so often, and so seriously councelled vs vn­to a carefull watchfulnesse ouer this sence specially, but for some important and waightie reasons. For hee well knew, that of all sences, sight was the surest and certai­nest of his obiect and sensation; no sence rangeth a­broad and pierceth the skies like vnto this; no sence hath such varietie of obiects to feed and delight it, as this; no sence imprinteth so firmely his formes in the imagination, as this; no sence serueth the soule so much for knowledge, as this; no sence is put so oft in action, as this; no sence sooner mooueth, than this; and consequently, no sence well guided, more profitable [Page 152] to the soule than this, nor no sence peruerteth more peri­lous than this: for if the guide be corrupted, the followers will hardly escape vninfected. Wherefore I would per­suade all them that feare God, and would auoid occasi­ons of sinnes, either not to behold at all such things as may induce them easily to offend; or so perfunctorily passe ouer them, as they leaue no sting behind them: and therfore we are willed not to behold wine when it gliste­reth, and as it were, glorieth in the glasse; for such alluring sights, dart presently into the hart inordinat delights: his meaning is, we should not demur in sensuall behol­ding, least perhaps ensue too much affectiō, or drinking.

Epiphanius giueth a very apt morall reason, why in the old law when a dead course passed by any house, they were commaunded to shut their doores and windowes: For saith he, by this thou art taught: Si audieris vocem Epiphan. lib. 1. heres. tom. 1. he [...]s. 9. p. q. peccati, aut speciem delicti videris, claude oculos thos à con­cupiscentia, & os à vanitate verborum, & aurem à prauo sono vt ne mortisicetur tota domus, hoc est anima & corpus. If thou heare the voice of sinne, or see the face of offence, shut thine eyes from concupiscence, and thy mouth from sinfull sounds, least all thy house die, that is, thy body and thy soule. For as he addeth after out of the Prophet, Mors per fenestras ascendit: death ascendeth into the house of our hearts, by the windowes of our sences. He there­fore that intendeth to keepe death from his heart, must shut the gates of his sences in the face of sinne. For the better performance hereof, it is to be considered, that passions are not onely mooued by their principall ob­iects and directly, but also by certaine appurtenances, ap­appendices, or (let me call them for lacke of a better [Page 153] word) scraps of the principall obiect, indirectly the which appertaine and haue some reference thereunto. When Iacob saw the garment of Ioseph sprinkledGen. 37. with blood, it stirred vp in him extreamely the passionIudith. 16. 11. of sorrow. The sandals or pantofles of Iudith, rauished the eyes of Holophernes, Sandalia eius repuerunt oculos eius, and hailed his heart to lust. The Antiochians were so vexed with certaine extraordinarie exactions the em­perour Theodosius imposed vpon them, that they for ex­treameChry. in variis homil. ad popu­lum Antioch [...]ū. spite and anger, which the sight of his armes and statues stirred vp in them, would no longer endure them in their citie, but broke the one, and rased the other. We see a dog when he cannot, or dare not assault him that throweth the stone with whom he is angry, runneth to bite the stone and so in part to reuenge his spite. Da­uid agreeued with the death of Saul and Ionathas cursed the sencelesse mountaines of Gelboe which vpheld their enemies till the Israelits were slaine. Montes Gelboe nec 2. Reg. 1. 21. ros nec pluuiae veniant super vos. And Iob execrated the day that gaue light when he was borne, after hee was plunged into so many miseries. Pereat dies in qua natus Iob. 3. 3. sum & noxin qua dictū est: conceptus est homo. Raguel whē he heard Raphael the Angel tell him, how yong Tobie was old Tobies sonne; could not absteine from teares, the sight of the sonne so mooued and stirred vp the affecti­on he bore to his father: the like did Sara his wife, andTob. 7. Anne the daughter. And the reason of this enlarged and extensiue affection in passions, I thinke proceedeth from the very heart and nature of euery passion: For when we loue God, our parents, or friends, we are well pleased and contented with all those treasures of good­nesse, [Page 154] honestie, wealth and all other perfections they haue, and wish them such as beseeme them, which they want; and this we desire to see performed, and reioyce when it is accomplished: and therefore since that a man hath many good things of nature, as children, wife, kins­folke, &c. and many additions by fortune, as seruants, horses, possessions, &c. and many prised ornaments, as credit, glorie, fame, images, statues, &c. and diuers other things which haue reference and relation vnto him as their master, lord, and owner: and therefore he that lo­ueth intirely his friend, loueth all that belongeth vnto his friend, and valueth them at that rate it deserueth and his friend priseth them. In hatred and enuie contratiwise, euery one detesteth not onely the person, but also all that appertaineth vnto him, for the contrarie reason; neither can he abide to see any thing prosper which concerneth him. Wherefore Dauid offering his prayer to God, re­questeth him to defend his innocencie and punish his enemie: and not onely his person, but also wisheth his children should become orphanes, Fiant filij eius orpha­ni: Psal. 108. and his wife a widow, & vxor etus vidua: That his children should be cast out a doores, range like vaga­bonds, and goe a begging, Nutantes transferantur filij eius, & mendicent & eijctantur de habitationibus suis. And yet not contented: Let the vsurer sacke him of all his substance, and strangers dispoile him of all his labours, Scrutetur foenerator omnem substantiam eius, & deripiant alieni labores eius. Yet more, Let no man help him, nor take commiseration vpon his infants, Non sit illi adiutor, nec sit qui misereatur pupillis eius: & all this is not inough, but, Let his children die, and in one generation cause his [Page 155] name to be buried in obliuion, Fiant nati eius in interi­tum, in generatione vna deleatur nomen eius. And many more such imprecations hee powreth forth against them, which I for breuitie sake omit: onely this will suf­fice, that the hater cannot endure to see or suffer the per­son hated to prosper and enioy any good thing, or any thing belongeth him. I haue knowne some men so pas­sionat, that it was a most bitter corrosiue vnto their hearts to see the children of their enemies but well apparelled: and it is held for a good point in policie and apt to moue compassion, when the prince is offended with any per­son, that hee appeare not before him in gorgious but mourning attire: and so Saint Chrisostome recounteth that diuers noble women deposed all their pompe andChrisost. hom. ad populi. pride, and after a most meane manner and with poore apparell presented themselues before the iudges to sue for their husbands in that lamentable commotion at An­tioch: and as much the scriptures insinuat, that a man should doe to God, as Baruch testifieth: Anima quae tristis Baruch. 2. est super magnitudinem mali, & incedit curua, dat tibi glo­riam domine, The soule which is sorie for the mightinesse of her euill, and goeth crooked, O Lord glorifieth thee. His meaning is, the contrite heart, and humble submis­sion, and abiect conceit a sinner hath of himselfe, caused by true repentance, exalt Gods greatnesse and extoll his maiestie, the which his mortall enemies so greeue to haue offended.

Out of this discourse we may collect some practicall points very profitable, and know a reason how men commonly carrie themselues towards appassionat per­sons. First, for that we say sight stirreth vp passions, and [Page 156] not onely the persons we loue, but also whatsoeuer re­leaseth any thing of them. Therefore generally among friends which be absent and out of sight, affections are colder and rarer: for although true friends haue alwayes a secret cabinet in their memories to talke in their minds with them whom they loue, although absent; yet except the memorie be reuiued by some externall obiect, obliui­on entreth, thoughts are more remisse, & friendship fai­leth: Wherefore, messages, letters, tokens, friends, kins­folkes, and such things as concerne vs, are to bee sent to our friends to renouat and reuiue our former amitie.

Secondly, if we would not exasperat our enemies, it were expedient not onely we our selues, but also all these things which any way belong vs, appeare not in their sights: yea, and that is more, we must take heed as much as in vs lieth, that they vnderstand not any prosperitie or good befallen vnto vs: because in all these sights ha­tred is stirred vp and reuiued anew, which lay smothe­red before vnder the embers of forgetfulnesse: and so with silence perhaps enmitie of it selfe will consume and pine away.

Thirdly, to persuade any matter we intend, or to stirre vp any passion in a multitude, if we can aptly con­firme our opinion or intention with any visible obiect, no doubt but the persuasion would bee more forcible, and the passion more potent. Cato was determined to strike the Senat and Romanes, with feare of the Cartha­ginian forces; & least they should obiect against him, that Carthage was farre from them, and therefore not so dangerous, he presently shewed them greene figges, at that instant brought from Carthage; & so they all concei­ued [Page 157] that the countrey was not farre distant, for otherwise the figges would haue bene dried or corrupted.

Galba intending to excite the principal men of SpaineTacitus lib. 1. against Nero; and to moue them the more to wage war against him, placed of purpose before his tribunall a ma­ny of images of great personages executed or banished in Neroes time, and fetched from exile a yong noble man, out of the next Iland, to stand by his seat, while he spoke to his armie.

Licurgus brought two dogs the one sauage the other trained vp, to let the people see the difference betwixt men well brought vp and badly, and withall to let them vnderstand the great good of keeping good lawes.

The Macedonians being once ouercome in battel by their adiacent enemies, thought the onely remedie that remained to inanimate their souldiours to battell, was to carrie their yong king Philip the first in his cradle to the field, thereby stirring vp the zeale of faithfull subiects to defend their innocent prince: and this little wherstone so sharpned their swords, that indeed they woon the battel.

The people of Tangia in America in their warres ca­ried alwayes in their campe the corpes and bones of their auntient famous warriers, thereby intending to encou­rage their souldiours with the worthie memorie and va­lour of their predecessours. Agria a citie in Hungaria, be­ing besieged the yeere 1562 by Mahomet Bassa with an armie of 60000 Turkes, and battered with 50 cannons; in the citie were onely 2000 Hungarians, who with in­credible valour had repelled thirteene most terrible as­saults: and albeit they were most valiant, yet to encrease their valour, they (expecting another fresh assault) [Page 158] sware themselues, that vpon perill of death no man should talke or speake of peace, or yeelding, nor giue other answere to these vnsatiable suckers of Christian blood, but with cannons, muskets, and caliuers: and in case the siege endured longer than their victuals lasted, then rather to die of hunger, than submit themselues vn­to the Turkish slauerie. And at last when the Bassa had offered them diuers faire and fauourable conditions, if they would yeeld, they with a visible signe to moue him to dispaire of his intent, hanged ouer the wall a coffin couered with blacke betwixt two speares, thereby repre­senting vnto him, that in that citie they would be buried: and so preuailed.

Among the Iewes the arke of God as a visible signe was borne by the Leuits in the battell, as with a present obiect to deliuer them from all feare of enemies, thereby conceiuing the infallible assistauce and protection of God ouer them, whose cause they handled and defended. I haue seene some preachers bring a dead mans scull in­to the pulpit, therewith the better to moue their auditors to contemne the transsitorie pleasures of this world, to beat into them a terrour of death, to the intent that for the rest of their dayes, they might lead a better life.

Last of all it ought seriously to be considered, that the presence of any visible obiect, moueth much more vehe­mently. the passion, than the imagination or conceit thereof in the absence: for the imagination in absence, re­presenteth the pleasure as farre off and not prepared; but the thing being present, nothing seemeth to want but ex­ecution. And therfore we see beasts in the presence of the sensual obiects scarce possibly to be with held from them.

How Passions are mooued with musicke and instrumeuts. §. 2.

HOw musicke songs and sounds stirre vp passions, we may discouer in little sucklings, who with their nurses songs are brought to rest; the mules with­out belles will scarcely trauell; the carman with whist­ling causeth his sturdie iades to walke more merily. The Arcadian signorie considering that in regard of the situa­tion of their countrey, the inhabitants for most part were barbarous, sauage, and wild; to molifie more their minds, & to render them more mild, gentle, & humane, iudged no means more effectuall than to introduct musicke among them: For in very deed a certaine kind of tick­ling symphonie maketh men effeminat and delicat. The Spaniards play their Zarabanda vpon the Gittern, which moueth them (as I heare reported) to daunce, and doe worse. Pithagoras once chaunced to fall into theBasil. hom. de legen lib. Gen. tilium. company of drunkards, where a musitian ruled their las­ciuious banket: he presently commanded him to change his harmonie and sing a Dorion, and so with this maner of melodie brought them to sobrietie, and casting their garlands from their heads were ashamed of all they had done. Saul being possessed or at least much vexed with1. Reg. 16. the deuil, Dauid played vpon his Citheran, and hee was comforted and the euill spirit departed.

The deuill being a spirit, cannot be expelled from a bodie naturally by the vertue of musicke, but as we may conceiue and inferre out of the scriptures, either Saul was really possessed by the deuill, and then not the natu­rall [Page 160] forces of Dauids songs and sounds, but the assistance of God and his help expelled the deuill, at what time Dauid sung his sacred hymnes. Or the deuill was not re­ally in Saul, but onely molested him with the vehemen­cie of some melancholy humour, as the falling sicknesse▪ or some other sort of melancholy madnesse: and then as this peruerse malignant humour causeth feares, sad­nesse, and such like melancholy passions; so musicke causeth mirth, ioy, and delight, the which abate, expell, and quite destroy their contrary affections, and withall, rectifie the blood and spirits, and consequently disgest melancholy, and bring the body into a good temper. Whether of these two was in Saul, Diuines doubt, and Physitians are not able to resolue. Reasons may bee brought for both parts; some Diuines attribute it to God, some Physitians ascribe the cure to the naturall vertue of musicke. The reason for the Physitians, is grounded vp­on the text; for it seemeth that the disease or wicked spi­rit that possessed Saul was a thing vsuall in the countrey, because his seruants councelled him to procure a musi­tian, to the intent that when his maladie molested him, the musicke might comfort him. It neuer was vsuall in any countrey, nor in all the scripture practised to cast out deuils by the playing vpon instruments: therefore it was a melancholie humour, by the deuill introducted, and by musicke causing mirth expelled.

The Diuines haue a more solid argument for their opinion, because the scriptures ought to be vnderstood in their proper sence as the words sound, when no ab­surditie necessarily thereupon ensueth, as in this exposi­on is euident; for, ascribing it to God what absurditie can [Page 161] follow? now the scripture euermore calleth this affecti­on of Saul, the spirit, and the wicked spirit, vers. 14. Spiri­tus autē Domini rec [...]ssit à Saul, & exagitabat eum spiritus nequam à Domino, The spirit of our Lord departed from Saul, and the wicked spirit from God (that is, by Gods permission) vexed him. The same wee haue in the verse 16. 17. and twise in the 23.

Againe I would gladly know when these Physitians euer see with a fit of mirth either these melancholy mad­nesses notoriously remitted, or when the paroxime was vpon them quite taken away, let it bee either Lycan­thropia, that is, a woolfish madnesse; or Epilepsia the falling sicknesse? if they could shew me such a minstrell, I doubt not but in short time he would be able to buy all the Physitians that dwell within an hundred miles of him. For the scripture saith expresly, Dauid tollebat & percutiebat manu sua & refocillabatur Saul & leuius habe­bat, recedebat enim ab eo spiritus malus, If the deuill perso­nally had not afflicted him, the humour had ceased from molestation but not departed away: and the scripture yeeldeth a reason (as appeareth by the word enim) why he was comforted, because the deuill was gone away.

The argument which I obiected in fauour of the Physitians may bee answered two wayes: first, that the seruants of Saul no otherwise intended to cure his disease by musicke, than commonly in the maladies or vexation of great personages, their friends procure musick to recre­ate them; whence from soeuer the maladies proceed, they neither know, nor generally regard. Secondly, it might be that God extraordinarily was accustomed to4. Reg. 3. worke in those dayes wonders by the means of musicke, [Page 162] as afterwards wee read of Elizeus, who desiring to pro­phetise, called for a musitian, at whose song, the spirit of God fell vpon him. And it is a thing vsuall with God, to worke miraculous effects by creatures which haue ei­ther no vertue at all to worke such an effect, or onely a weake resemblance. What naturall vertue had the dirtIoh. 9. Iud. 16. and spit of Christ, to cure the blind borne begger? What vertue had Samsons haires, to afford him such strength and forces? What naturall vertue lurked in the assesIud. 16. iaw, to yeeld him water vnto satietie? What vertue hadExod. 14. Act. 5. Moses rod, to diuide the red sea? What naturall ver­tues lay hid in St Peters shadow, St Pauls handkirchifes andAct. 19. girdles, to cure so many and maruailously tormenting diseases? The water of Iordan had vertue to wash, but4. Reg. 5. 4. Reg. 20. not to wash away the leprosie of Naaman Sirus: the ca­taplasme of Esay had some naturall proportion to cure an aposteme, but not such a desperate mortall maladie as that of Ezekias. The gall of the fish which Tobie caughtTob. 6. in the riuer Tigris, had vertue to cure the eyes; but who can denie, but miraculously, by Gods speciall prouidence layd vpon Tobie starke blind, it was augmented? So I say, musicke naturally expelleth melancholie; and God either miraculously by Dauids musicke, or at his musicke deliuered Saul from the deuill, who afflicted him in a me­lancholy manner: For, that musicke causeth mirth, be­sides the dayly experience which prooueth it, we haue Gods word to confirme it, Vinum & musica laetisicant Eccles. 40. 20. cor, Wine and musicke maketh merie the heart.

Some men wonder (and not without reason) how it commeth to passe, that out of the same mouth should issue a cold wind to coole the hot pottage, and a hot [Page 163] breath to warme the cold hands. But musicke is much more miraculous, for it moueth a man to mirth and plea­sure, and affecteth him with sorow and sadnesse; it inci­teth to deuotion, and inticeth to dissolution: it stirreth vp souldiers to warre, and allureth citizens to peace. Take away musicke from marriages, and halfe the mirthMusick cau­seth mirth. is mard: depriue great bankets of musicke, and the feast is not intire: there is but sorrie dauncing, where musicke is wanting: dispoile tradesmen and labourers of naturall musicke, and take from them a soueraigne preseruatiueMusicke cau­seth melan­choly. from paine. Musicke therefore mooueth men to mirth and abateth the heauie humour of melancholie. But how causeth musicke sorow and sadnesse? What are Hieremies lamentable threens, but a sorowfull song brea­thed ouer the citie of Hierusalem? What are Dauids pe­nitentiall Psalmes, but monefull anthemes inclining the soule to sorow for sinne? What are funebriall accents, but ruthful lamentations for our friends eclipsed? What else are those dolefull tunes which issue from langui­shing louers, but offsprings of pensiue furies, and origens of more vehement melancholie fits? All poeticall fained fables, or sophisticated histories, are loaden with these wailing verses and swanlike, or rather swinelike voices, occasioned by mournfull despaire, and feeding the same. A sword serueth to defend right, and is also an instrumentMusicke stir­reth vp deuo­tion. to worke wrongs: musicke in like manner eleuateth the mind to deuotion and pietie, and abaseth the soule with effusion & leuitie. Elizeus (as aboue I insinuated) prepa­red4. [...]eg. 3. his spirit to receiue the influence of prophesie by the meanes of musicke. Dauid in penning Psalmes, ordai­ning instruments, prouiding musitians for the seruise of [Page 164] God, by word and deed taught vs, by the vertue of mu­sicke to stirre men vp to deuotion: and therefore regi­stred that solemne sentence beseeming all Christians, but specially musitians, and worthy to be engrauen in their brests for eternall memorie. Laudate Dominum in sono Psal. 848. tubae: laudate eum in psalterio & cithera: laudate eum in timpano & choro: laudate eum in chordis & organo: lauda­te eum in symbalis bene sonantibus: laudate eum in cymba­lis iubilationis: omnis spiritus laudet dominum. And for this cause it hath bene vsual among them in the old testa­ment, after any great grace or fauour shewed them by God, to rouse vp their soules with musicall songs and in­struments, to giue him thankes, and praise his name for the bestowing of such benefits, imparting to them such great good, or deliuering them from such euils. When Israel had passed the read sea, and therein beheld Pharoe and his host buried in the bottome of those wallowing waues, Moyses with the men, and Marie sister to Aaron Exod. 15. Iudith. 16. Iud. 5. with the women, sung panigeries of praises vnto God with hymnes and instruments: the like we read of Iudith after she had vanquished Holophernes: of Delbora, &c.

And the Church, for this same effect, vseth the con­sorts of musical instruments, and the harmonie of voices: the which Saint Augustine greatly commendeth, andAugustinus lib. 10. confess. ca. 33 reporteth of himselfe what exceeding spirituall comfort he reaped thereby, at the beginning of his conuersion, what teares he shed, and how he was internally moued. For musicke hath a certaine secret passage into mens soules, and worketh so diuinely in the mind, that it eleua­teth the heart miraculously, and resembleth in a certaine manner the voices and hermonie of heauen: and questi­onlesse [Page 165] there is nothing in this life which so sensibly dis­couereth vnto vs the pleasures of Paradice, as a sweet con­sort of musicke. True it is that this sensuall delight apper­taineth more to yonglings in deuotion, than graue, per­fit, and mortified men: for it serueth them as a sensuall obiect, to ascend to God in spirit, to contemplate his sweetnesse, blessednesse, and eternall felicitie, and thereby contemne this world so full of vanitie and miserie: but these, who are more eleuated to God by reason, than by sence ascend to him by serious meditations, deepe con­siderations, and exact penetrations of his word, his ma­iestie, attributes, and perfections. Wherefore Saint Au­gustine thought he offended, when he was more moued with the melodie of the song, than with the sence of the Psalme: and for the same effect he highly commendethIdem Ibidem. Athanas. Saint Athanasius, Qui tam modico flexu vocis faciebat so­nare lectorem psalmi, vt pronuntianti vicinior esset quam canenti. Who caused the reader of the psalme, to sing with such a small inflexion of voyce, that he seemed ra­ther to say, than to sing. But yet for all this, euen graue and most deuout men benefit their soules, and not onely the simpler sort, with the sweetnesse of musicke: for al­though they lift vp their hearts to God, persuaded rather by reason than induced by sence, yet they cannot euer at­tend vnto such serious cogitations, but now and then in­termingle their deuotions with this sacred sensualitie, and pleasant path which leadeth to the fountaine of spirituall comfort and consolation.Musicke cau­seth wanten­nesse.

Aristotle in his common-wealth forbiddeth a certaine sort of lasciuious musicke, and alloweth the Doricall, which is of another kind: for as in some mens gestures, [Page 166] wordes, and manner of deliuerie, we discouer a certaine light wantonnesse, so in some musick there is to be noted a manifest loose effeminatenesse: and the experience is so sensible, that it were superfluous to proceed any farther in proofe.

Alexander the great hearing Antigenida a most excel­lentMusick mo­ueth [...]e. trumpeter sound his trumpet to battell, was stirred vp in such sort to fight, that his very friends were not se­cure from blowes, which stood next him. Saint Basil re­countethBasil. in hom. de legen. lib. Gent. that one Timothie did so excell in musicke, that if he vsed a sharpe and seuere harmonie he stirred men vp to anger: and presently by chaunging his note into a more sweet and softer tune he moued them to mildnesse and peace: and at a banket caused both these effects in Alexander the great.

The Na [...]ans in the east India to stirre themselues vp to battel, hang at the pommels of their swordes certaine plates to make a noise, thinking, or proouing belike thereby, how their hearts are incensed to warre. In Eu­rope we neuer see souldiors almost sight, but first prouo­ked to warres, with trumpets and drummes. Tacitus re­porteth, that the Germanes inanimated themselues to the warres, with singing the worthy wonders and heroicall exploits of Hercules. And finally experience teacheth, that not only men but also warlike horses, with drummes and trumpets are inflamed to sight. This effect of sounds and instruments, cannot proceed but from the passion of ire which is raised vp and ruleth the soule, occasioned or rather caused by them.

As musicke and instruments in one kind causeth soul­diersMusicke incli­neth to peace. blood to rise, and thirst after the shedding of the [Page 167] blood of their enemies: so contrariwise another sort of musicke pacifieth the minds of men, and rendreth them quiet and peaceable. The Arcadians by musicke (as I sayd aboue) were transformed and transported from sauage­nesse to ciuilitie, from fiercenesse to affabilitie, from cru­eltie to humanitie. And questionlesse as nothing is more opposit to a warlike heart which neuer ceaseth from kil­ling, than an effeminate heart, which is wholy addicted to louing; so if musicke can make warriers womanish, it will consequently render them quiet, tractable, and peace­able.

Diuers other passions, besides the related, are moued by musicke, as mercie and compassion: and for this pur­pose many beggers with songs demaund their almes, and specially the Germains, where the man, the wife, and their children make a full begging quier; according to the Italian prouerbe:

Cosi Vanno cattando
Li Tudesci cantando,
Li Francesipiangendo,
Li Spagnioli biastemando.
Thus goe a begging
The Germanes singing,
The French men weeping,
The Spaniards cursing.

That is, the poore nee­die Spaniards, will sometime curse, if a man denie them almes.

There are also some stately maiesticall songs and con­sorts of musicke, which with a certaine paused grauitie seeme to inuite a mans heart to magnanimitie, for they release I know not what resemblance of action and ge­sture, [Page 168] consorting with great personages. Many more passions doubtlesse are stirred vp with musicke; and Saint Augustine is of opinion that all, for hee did perceiue,Aug. lib. 10. conf. cap. 33. Omnes affectus spiritus nostri, pro sui diuersitate, habere proprios modos in voce, at (que) cantu, quorum nescio qua occulta familiaritate excitentur.

But to knit vp this discourse, there remaineth a questi­on to be answered, as difficult as any whatsoeuer in all naturall or morall philosophie, viz. How musicke stir­reth vp these passions, and moueth so mightily these af­fections? What hath the shaking or artificiall crispling of the aire (which is in effect the substance of musicke) to doe with rousing vp choler, afflicting with melan­lancholie, iubilating the heart with pleasure, eleuating the soule with deuotion, alluring to lust, inducing to peace, exciting to compassion, inuiting to magnanimitie? It is not so great a meruaile, that meat, drinke, exercise, and aire set passions aloft, for these are diuers waies qualified, and consequently apt to stirre vp humors; but what qua­litie carie simple single sounds and voices, to enable them to worke such wonders?

I had rather in this point read some learned discourse, than deliuer mine opinion: neuerthelesse, in such an ob­struse difficultie, he that speaketh most apparently and probably, saith the best: and therefore I will set downe those formes or manners of motion which occurre to my mind and seeme likeliest.

The first is a certaine sympathie, correspondence, or proportion betwixt our soules and musick: and no other cause can be yeelded. Who can giue any other reason, why the loadstone draweth yron, but a sympathie of na­ture? [Page 168] Why the Needle, toucht but with such a stone, should neuer leaue looking towards the North Pole; who can render other reason, than sympathie of na­ture? If we make a suruey of all birds of the aire, fishes of the sea, beasts of the land, we shall find euery sort affect a proper kind of food: a lyon will eat no hay, nor a bull beefe; a horse eateth bread, and a leopard abhorreth it: a kite liueth vpon carrion, and a hen cannot endure it: if a man should beat his braine to find out the reason, no bet­ter can be giuen, than sympathie of nature. So we may say, that such is the nature of our soules, as musicke hath a certaine proportionat sympathie with them: as our tasts haue with such varieties of daintie cates, our smel­ling such varietie of odours, &c.

The second manner of this miracle in nature, some as­sign and ascribe to Gods generall prouidence, who when these sounds affect the eare, produceth a certaine spiritu­all qualitie in the soule, the which stirreth vp one or other passion, according to the varietie of voices, or consorts of instruments. Neither this is to be meruailed at, for the very same vpon necessitie we must put in the imaginati­on, the which not being able to dart the formes of fan­cies, which are materiall; into the vnderstanding, which is spirituall, therefore where nature wanteth, Gods proui­dence supplieth. So corporall musicke being vnable to worke such extraordinarie effects in our soules, God by his ordinarie naturall prouidence produceth them. The like we may say of the creation of our soules; for men being able to produce the bodie, but vnable to create the soule, man prepareth the matter, and God createth the forme: so in musicke, men sound and heare, God striketh [Page 170] vpon, and stirreth vp the heart.

The third maner more sensible & palpable is this, that the very sound it selfe, which according to the best phi­losophie, is nothing else but a certaine artificiall shaking, crispling, or tickling of the ayre (like as we see in the wa­ter crispled, when it is calme, and a sweet gale of wind ruffleth it a little; or when wee cast a stone into a calme water, we may perceiue diuers warbling naturall circles) which passeth thorow the eares, and by them vnto the heart, and there beateth and tickleth it in such sort, as it is moued with semblable passions. For as the heart is most delicat and sensatiue, so it perceiueth the least motions and impressions that may be: and it seemeth that musicke in those celles playeth with the vitall and animate spirits, the onely instruments and spurres of passions. In like ma­ner we perceiue by a little tickling of our sides, or the soles of our feet, how we are mooued to laughter, yea and the very heart strings seeme in some sort to be moo­ued by this almost sencelesse motion. And in confirma­tion hereof, we may bring two apt coniectures: The first is, in our own hands or face, the which if we smooth, tickle, presse downe, nip, heat, or coole, wee perceiue di­uers sorts & diuersities of sensations, and feele our selues sundry wayes affected: if such varieties we find in a thicke skin, how much more in a tender heart, farre more apter to feele than any member else of our bodie. The second coniecture is, the filing of iron, and scraping of trenchers, which many naturally (yea and almost all men before they be accustomed vnto them) abhorre to heare, not only because they are vngratefull to the eare, but also for that the aire so carued, punisheth and fretteth the heart.

The last and best manner I take to be, that as all other sences haue an admirable multiplicitie of obiects which delight them, so hath the eare: and as it is impossible to expound the varietie of delights, or disgustes, which we perceiue by them, and receiue in them (for who can di­stinguish the delights wee take in eating fish, flesh, fruit, so many thousand sauces, and commixtions of spices with fish, flesh, and fruit?) so in musicke, diuers consorts stirre vp in the heart, diuers sorts of ioyes, and diuers sorts of sadnesse or paine: the which as men are affected, may be diuersly applied: Let a good and a Godly man heare musicke, and hee will lift vp his heart to heauen: let a bad man heare the same, and hee will conuert it to lust: Let a souldiour heare a trumpet or a drum, and his bloud will boile and bend to battell; let a clowne heare the same, and he will fall a dauncing; let the common people heare the like, and they wil fall a gazing, or laugh­ing, and many neuer regard them, especially if they bee accustomed to heare them. So that in this, mens affe­ctions and dispositions, by meanes of musicke, may stir vp diuers passions, as in seeing we daily prooue the like. True it is, that one kind of musicke may be more apt to one passion than another, as also one obiect of sight is more proportionat to stirre vp loue, hatred, or pleasure, or sadnesse, than another. Wherefore the naturall dis­position of a man, his custome or exercise, his vertue or vice, for most part at these sounds diuersificate passions: for I cannot imagine, that if a man neuer had heard a trumpet or a drum in his life, that he would at the first hearing be mooued to warres. Much more might bee said in this matter, and yet not all fully satisfie and content [Page 172] a sound iudgement, but what occurred vnto me in this question I haue set downe, leauing the choise and appro­bation, or sensure, to them that see more in it than I doe.

How Passions are moued by action. §. 2.

ORators, whose proiect is persuasion, haue two principal parts where with they endeuour to com­passe their purpose, Ornatè dicere, & concinnè a­gere, To speake eloquenly, and to act aptly: That consi­steth specially vpon proper words and sound reasons, this in a certaine moderation of the voice and qualifications of gestures. We said aboue, that externall actions as voice, and gestures, were signes of internall passions; and there we taught, how thorow those windowes a man might passe with the sight of his vnderstanding, and dis­couer the secret affections of anothers heart: the which ground and vndoubted veritie, is the foundation where­upon now we must build this third meane to moue pas­ssions: for Cicero expresly teacheth that it is almost im­possible for an oratour to stirre vp a passion in his audi­tors, except he be first affected with the same passiō him­selfe. Neque enim fieri potest, vt doleat is, qui audit, vt ode­rit, Cicer [...] lib. de orat. vt inuideat, vt pertimescat aliquid, vt admisericordi­am fletum (que) deducatur, n [...]si omnes ij motus, quos orator ad­hiberi volet iudici, in ipso oratore impressi esse, at (que) inusti videbuntur. It cannot be that he which heareth should sorrow, hate, enuie, or feare any thing, that he should be induced to compassion or weeping, except all those mo­tions the oratour would stirre vp in the iudge, be first imprinted and marked in the oratour himselfe. And [Page 173] therefore Horace well obserued, that he which will make me weepe must first weepe himselfe.

Si vis me flore, dolendum est
De art. poet.
Primum tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent.
If thou wilt haue me weepe, a dolefull brest
First show: and then thy woes will me molest:

And the philosophicall and morall reason hereof is most apert, because with them it is a common receiued axiome, Nemo dat quod non habet: a man cannot com­municateAugust. lib. 2. de lib. arb. cap. 17. that he wanteth, Quod in causis vniuocis est semper verum. And therefore how shall one who hath no feeling of the passion he would persuade, induce an other by passion to accept or reiect it? For if thy reasons moue not thee, why wouldest thou haue them to moueAristo. 1. post. me? Propter quod vnumquod (que) tale & illud magis: If my hand be hot for the fire, the fire must be more hot it selfe: if my chamber be lightsome for the beames of the sunne, the sunne it selfe must be more lightsome: If I must bee moued by thy persuations, first thou must shew me by passion, they persuaded thy selfe. And therefore no mer­uaile if many preachers persuade not the people to vertue and pietie; for they seeing the instructors want in them­selues that they endeuour to persuade to others, let all their sermons enter in at one eare, and slip out at another. Ab immundo quis mundabitur: who shalbe cleansed byEccles. 34. the vncleane? For as Saint Gregorie well noteth, Manus quae sordes abluit, munda esse debet: the hand which wa­sheth filth away, should bee cleane. True it is that the people ought to follow the Godly doctrine of their prea­chers, although their liues be corrupted, for so Christ hath commaunded, because they sit in the chaire of Moy­ses. [Page 172] [...] [Page 173] [...] [Page 174] Neuerthelesse let them be assured one day to smart for it, in that they prepared and disposed not them­selues to be fit instruments for such eminent functions. Therefore if we intend to imprint a passion in another, it is requisit first it be stamped in our hearts: for thorow our voices, eyes, and gestures, the world will pierce and thorowly perceiue how we are affected. And for this cause the passion which is in our brest must be the foun­taine and origen of all externall actions; and as the inter­nall affection is more vehement, so the externall persua­sion will be more potent: for the passion in the persuader seemeth to mee, to resemble the wind a trumpeter blow­eth in at one end of the trumpet, and in what manner it proceedeth from him, so it issueth forth at the other end, and commeth to our eares; euen so the passion procee­deth from the heart, and is blowne about the bodie, face, eies, hands, voice, and so by gestures passeth into our eyes, and by sounds into our eares: and as it is qualified, so it worketh in vs. But I know some would vnderstand the cause, why a good reason in the preacher or oratour will not suffice to persuade the people, vnlesse they them­selues be affected with the like passion? I answere, that wise men are most moued with sound reasons, and lesse with passions: contrariwise the common people or men not of deepe iudgement, are more persuaded with passi­ons in the speakers; the reason is, because as we haue two sences of discipline especially, the eyes & the eares: reason entreth the eates; the passion wherewith the oratour is affected passeth by the eyes, for in his face we discouer it, and in other gestures: the eyes are more certaine messen­gers and lesse to be doubted of, for we many times suspect [Page 175] the reasons least they be friuolous, although we cannot answere them; but those passions we see, nature imprin­teth them deeper in our hearts, and for most part they seeme so euident, as they admit no tergiuersation: where­fore the euidence and certaintie of the passion, persua­deth much more effectually the common people, than a suspected reason: and the suspition of sophistication is much more encreased when wee see it not worke that effect in the teacher which he would stirre vp in the hea­rer. Againe, vsually men are more moued with deeds than words, reasonable persuations resemble words, af­fectuall passions are compared to deeds. Furthermore the passion passeth not onely thorow the eyes, but also pierceth the eare, and thereby the heart; for a flexible and pliable voice, accommodated in manner correspondent to the matter whereof a person intreateth, conueyeth the passion most aptly, pathetically, and almost harmonical­ly, and euery accent, exclamation, admiration, increpati­on, indignation, commiseration, abhomination, exani­mation, exultation, fitly (that is distinctly, at time and place, with gesture correspondent, and flexibilitie of voice proportionat) deliuered, is either a flash of fire to incense a passion, or a bason of water to quench a passion incensed.

A man therefore furnished himselfe with the passion or affection he wisheth in his auditors, shewing it with voice and action, although his reasons be not so potent, hath no doubt a most potent meane to persuade what he list. Wherefore Demosthenes, as of all Oratours the prince for action, so he defined, that the principall part ofCicero in Brut. an Oration was action; the second, the same; the third, no [Page 176] other than action. Isocrates, otherwise called the father of eloquence, for lacke of a good voice neuer pleaded publickely. Cicero saith, some were viri diserti, that is, very eloquent, but for lack of action or rather vntoward­nesse, habiti sunt infantes, they were accounted infants: and I haue seene some preachers very meane schollers, and in truth otherwise but sillie men, yet for that they excelled in action, all the world followed them. For acti­on is either a certaine visible eloquence, or an eloquence of the bodie, or a comely grace in deliuering conceits, or an externall image of an internall mind, or a shaddow of affections, or three springs which flow from one foun­taine, called vox, vultus, vita, voice, countenance, life, that is, the affection poureth forth it selfe by all meanes possible, to discouer vnto the present beholders and au­ditors, how the actor is affected, and what affection such a case and cause requireth in them: by mouth he telleth his mind; in countenance he speaketh with a silent voice to the eyes; with all the vniuersall life and bodie he see­meth to say, Thus we moue, because by the passion thus we are mooued, and as it hath wrought in vs so it ought to worke in you. Action then vniuersally is a naturall or artificiall moderation, qualification, modification, or composition of the voice, countenance, and gesture of bodie proceeding from some passion, and apt to stirre vp the like: for it seemeth, that the soule playeth vpon these three parts, as a musition vpon three strings, and accor­ding to his striking so they sound.

A number of precepts Oratours prescribe about these three parts, and labour extreamly by art to perfit and accomplish the rude indigested motions of nature: to [Page 177] them therefore I will leaue the minching of this matter in particularities, and onely set downe certaine genera­lities.

First, although art supplie the defects of nature, yet if a man haue not a good naturall habilitie, it is impossi­ble by art to come to any perfection for this manner of motion. The reason hereof is manifest, because as in mu­sick, he that wanteth a tunable voice by nature, although he otherwise excell in the art of musicke, yet it were lesse paine to heare him say than sing. And I haue knowne most exquisit musitians vnable to sing aptly fiue notes: so in action, he that wanteth a good voice, a good nimble eye, a proportionat bodie, and other parts naturall, may speak with reason, but neuer almost aptly for persuasion: indeed if the habilities of nature be not very vntoward, art may correct many defects of nature: as Demosthenes had a little lisping at first, but by labour and diligence a­mended. Isocrates impediments were incorrigible, and therefore all his labour had been lost, if he had emploied himselfe to acting.

Secondly, he that will act well, must of necessitie stir vp first that affect in himselfe, he intendeth to imprint in the hearts of his hearers; and the more vehement the passion is, the more excellent action is like to ensue. The reason is, for, as I said aboue, the voice, eyes, and gestures sound without, as the heart striketh within: and therfore the vehementer passion venteth forth, the liuelier action. Yet here must one or two cautions be considered: First in ire and indignation, that the passion and action re­lish not of some priuat quarell or reuenge; for then it leeseth all the force and grace of persuasion, because the [Page 178] passion smelleth then of proper interest and vtilitie, and consequently will be accounted inordinate and vitious. Secondly in feare and sadnesse, that they render not the actions vile and abiect: for then the passion will rather be occasion or cause to smother and kill them, than to reuiue and animate them.

Thirdly, euery part of action ought to expresse the mind as grauely, as prudently, as solidly as may be: The reason is, because he that publickely intendeth to per­suade, must be esteemed a wise, and a good man; wise­dome must make the auditors beleeue he erreth not vp­on ignorance, honestie must induce them to thinke hee will not lie: therefore all his actions ought to be prudent and graue: for if they be any way light or rash, then pre­sently he will be suspected, either not to haue premedita­ted maturely his matter, or not to regard what he saith, or not to be so setled in vertue and knowledge as such an important matter requireth: for leuitie and rashnesse, at least argue imprudence, inconsideration, immortificati­on, and precipitation, which all are capitall enemies to deepe consulation, specially in matters which concerne persuasion to vertue, or dissuasion from vice, exhortation to goodnesse, or dehortation from ilnesse. Wherefore in action all leuitie must be auoided: In voyce, that the words be not pronounced too fast, nor any light or scuri­lous word enter in: In face, that the eye range not abroad vagabond like, nor be tossed or turned too lightly; that the oratour make no faces, writhing of mouth, wrinkling of nose, or too much shaking of head: Ingesture, no tick­ling with fingers, quickly wresting of the bodie, light go­ing, or much gesti [...]ulation.

Fourthly, he ought to endeuour, that euery part of action immitate as liuely as may be the nature of the passion: Sextus Philosophus said our bodie was imago ani­mi, because the maners of the soule followed the temper of the body, and therfore he that knew perfitly this, could not be ignorant of that: so the actions of the bodie shold be, in a perfit persuader, an image of the passion in the mind. But how shal this be performed? Two general rules at this present occurre vnto my memorie, not very hard to be learned, but exceeding profitable to be practised.

The first is, that we looke vpon other men appassio­nat, how they demeane themselues in passions, and ob­serue what and how they speake in mirth, sadnesse, ire, feare, hope, &c. what motions are stirring in the eyes, hands, bodie, &c. And then leaue the excesse and exorbi­tant leuitie or other defects, and keepe the manner corre­cted with prudent mediocritie: and this the best may be marked in stage plaiers, who act excellētly; for as the per­fection of their exercise consisteth in imitation of others, so they that imitate best, act best. And in the substance of externall action for most part oratours and stageplay­ers agree: and onely they differ in this, that these act fai­nedly, those really; these onely to delight, those to stirre vp all sorts of passions according to the exigencie of the matter; these intermingle much leuitie in their action toCicer lib. 3. de Orat. make men laugh, those vse all grauitie, grace, and autho­ritie to persuade: wherefore these are accounted redicu­lous, those esteemed prudent. But a discreet oratour may see in them what he may amend, and what he may fol­low. If there were an excellent preacher, who were ad­mirable not onely for doctrine, but also for action, hee [Page 180] would serue as a glasse for euery oratour to behold the beautie or blots of his action.

Secondly loue, desire, and ioy, require a plaine, plea­sant, soft, mild, gentle voice, and the like countenance: true it is that a discourse sermon or oration being wouen with various periods, and compounded of sundry parts, generally cannot be said to admit one onely sort of pro­nuntiation, action, or gesture: because although wee in­tend for example to induce our auditors to loue God, to obey their prince, &c. yet reason requireth, and art per­scribeth, that our probations be often grounded vpon contraries, incommodities, disgraces, punishments, and diuers inconueniences, which would ensue vpon the want and defect thereof: and therefore in euery part and period, the nature and qualitie of the affection, must rule and moderat the voyce and action.

Hatred and ire exact a vehement voice, and much ge­sture a pronuntiation sharpe, often falling with patheticall repetitions, iterated interrogations, prouing, confirming, and vrging reasons: the manner of this action wee may best discouer in wittie women when they chide; because although their excesse be vitious and not to be imitated, yet for that they let nature worke in her kind, their furi­ous fashion will serue for a good meane to perceiue the externall manage of this passion. Their voyce is loud and sharpe, and consequently apt to cut, which is proper to ire and hatred, which wish ill, and intend reuenge: their gestures are frequent, their faces inflamed, their eyes glowing, their reasons hurry one in the necke of another, they with their fingers number the wrongs offered them, the harmes, iniuries, disgraces, and what not, thought [Page 181] sayd, and done against them: if a prudent oratour could in this case batter their matter, circumcise the weaknesse of the reason, abate the excesse of their furie, certainely he might win a pretie forme for framing his action.

In sadnesse and commiseration, a graue, doleful, plaine voyce is best, without much varietie either of eye, face, or hand, for the orator must shew himselfe in soule and hart afflicted, oppressed, halfe dead; and therefore no more life ought to appeare without externall eyes and eares, than is necessary to deliuer the force of our reasons, and the griefe of our minds: our proofes may bee vrged and prosecuted but alwayes with a pitifull weeping eye and a fainting lamentable tune: yet notwithstanding, the voyce sometimes ought to bee interrupted with wofull exclamations and ruthfull repetitions, with alas, woe is me, &c. The eye also may be grauely eleuated vp to hea­uen, or abiected to earth, but it must be done seldome and merueilous soberly.

As feare participateth of hatred and sadnesse, in de­testing an imminent euill, and sorrowing least it befall, and therefore requireth like voyce, countenance and action; so, because little it would auaile to explaine the perill and daunger thereof, except we encouraged and stirred vp our hearers to attempt meanes, to prosecute labours, to enterprise difficulties, to encounter and resist the euill: therefore according to Saint Pauls instruction, we must arguere, obsecrare, increpare, accuse, request, re­prehend. The example we may haue in the passion of a man, whose next neighbours house being set a fire, if he should first of all discouer it and perceiue that verse like­ly to be verified in him.

[...]
[...]
Tunc tua res agitur, paries cum proximus ardet

Then tend thy turne, when neighbors housen burne. Hee would not come to his neigbour to aduise him of the fire in this manner: O deare neighbour, although I am farre vnfit by eloquence, to persuade you to looke to your house, and carefully to watch about it, least fire fall vpon it▪ as now of late I perceiue it hath done, therefore prouide water and succour, for otherwise both all your goods and mine will bee consumed: were not this speech ridicolous? would not men account such a man a foole? nature hath taught vs another course in such a case: for he would run crying into the street, fire, fire, help, help, water, water, succour, succour, alas, alas, wee are vndone, quickly, speedily, run for ladders, pull downe this rafter, cut that beame, vntile the house; what meane you, stirre hands, armes, and legs, hie thee for water, run thou for iron crookes, and hookes, hast, hast, we are all vndone. This is the effect of feare indeed, here a man seeth the danger, and endeuoureth to preuent the harme. The like should a preacher doe, who knowing his audi­tours wallowed in sinne, ought not with filed phrases, and mellow mouthed words tickle their eares, but with terrors and feares pierce their hearts: he should crie fire of hell, fire fire is kindled, sinne is entred into the soule, water water, teares teares, help help, repentance repen­tance, the deuill stands readie to deuoure you, death watcheth at vnawares to strike you, hel mouth gapeth to swallow you downe, looke about you, stirre your selues, Non in commessationibus & ebrietatibus, non in cubilibus Rom. 13. & impudicilijs, sed induiminm dominum nostrum Iesum Christum. Leaue off your riots, forsake your vanities, [Page 183] abandon your false deceitfull pleasures, put on Christ, imitate his puritie, follow his fasting, prosecute his mor­tification, see you not men die dayly vpon a suddaine, falling into hell? hast hast, flatter not your selues, time is vncertaine, the perill too certain, the punishment eternal, irreparable, inexplicable: thus ought a zealous preacher speake, and so God commaundeth him not to speake, but rather to crie, and that incessantly. Clama, ne cesses, Isa. 58. tanquam tuba exalta vocem tuam: & annuntia populo meo scelera eorum, & domui Iacob peccat [...] eorum. Crie, cease not, lift vp thy voyce like a trumpet, tell my people their sinnes, and the house of Iacob their offences.

Fiftly, although exquisit action be first commenced by nature and then perfitted by art, yet both nature and art require practise and exercise, otherwise all precepts though practicall will be resolued into meere speculati­ons: and when these three concurre together with other naturall habilities otherwise requisite, questionlesse they wil make a man potent in pleading & persuading, and en­able him to worke wonders among a multitude of men.

How to moue Passions by reason. §. 4.

AS reason concerneth the principall part of man, so reason specially should stirre vp, or suppresse the affections of man. But because most men, though reasonable by nature, yet declare themselues most vnrea­sonable, if not bruitish, by action, following rather the allurement of sences, than obeying the persuasions of prudence; therefore this meane must either be handled very artificially, or else all our endeuours will be but la­bour [Page 184] lost, for if we intend to persuade them by profound reasons, who either vnderstand them not at all, or else ve­ry superficially, wee shall moone them to loath our in­ducements, and thereupon dislike and perhaps con­demne our cause. Wherefore the passion mouer must looke narrowly to this point, & imitate herein the com­mon practise of prudent Physitians, who apply their me­dicin to the same maladies with particular respect and consideration of the patients temper, and so to a little child they will not giue the like purgation they would to a strong man, nor to a delicate ladie, though affected with the same ague, which to a steelie stomackt boore of the countrie. In like maner, common people and pro­found doctors, are not to be persuaded with the same ar­guments, for popular persuasions these prize not, & deepe demonstrations they pierce not. How to fail right vpon both, & not decline to either extreame in persuading the one part seuerally, requireth great prudence, and a sound iudgement. Yet I thinke there may be found out a mean to propound & deliuer deepe reasons perspicuously, and plausible persuasions sharply, so that the plainnesse of the one will make them plausible, and the acutenesse in the other will allay their flashnesse and render them pleasant.

First of all it is to be noted, that not euery kind of rea­son hath force to stirre vp a passion, but an vrgent and po­tent, either really or at least in conceit: this wee prooue by experience, for common and ordinarie motiues moue vs not much to loue or like a thing: wherefore God to induce the Israelits to wish and desire the land of pro­mise, described it as a countrey slowing with milke [Page 185] and honie, &c. and commonly euery one who would persuade vs to loue or affect any thing, highly commen­deth it; or contrariwise if a man would haue vs to hate and detest any thing, he endeuoureth as much as may be to make apparent the excesse of the euil or great damma­ges it apporteth. Passions then must be moued with vr­gent reasons, reasons vrging proceed from solid amplifi­cations, amplifications are gathered from common pla­ces, common places fit for oratoricall persuasion con­cerne a part of Rhethoricke called Inuention. Where­fore it were requisit for an excellentstir-passion to haue in a readinesse all those places which oratours assigne, & ac­count their arcinall or storehouse of persuasiue prouisi­on. I will briefly insinuat them, supposing the reader and practiser of this point a scholler both in Rethoricke and Philosophie, for otherwise he shall receiue small pro­fit hereby, and onely I will deliuer him a short plaine perspicuous method how to call to memory these places; that by them, not onely in this matter of passions but in all discourses, he may be enabled presently almost in a glaunce to suruey, and comprehend all arguments and reasons which occurre in his present affaire.

Secondly, a philosopher cannot be ignorant of the foure first questions, which in the posteriors he is taught to demaund of euery subiect. Quid nominis, Quid rei, Qualis sit, Propter quid sit. The name of the thing, the nature of the thing, the proprieties and accidents inhe­rent in the thing, the finall and efficient causes of the thing. Vnto these foure heads I will reduce all those to­picall or Rhetoricall places, which they call insita intrin­secall, and are as it were inserted in the bowels of the [Page 184] [...] [Page 185] [...] [Page 186] thing, or haue any persuasiue reference vnto the thing: for vnto Quid nominis, which is the name, and affoordeth1 Quid nominis o [...] notat [...]o. sundry persuasions to them who are acquainted with di­uers languages, specially the Hebrue, and next the Greek, whose words are very significant and ful of etymologies, for in the Hebrue most of their substantiues are deriued from radicall verbes. To this place fiue more are reduci­ble,2 Coniugata. as Coniugata, that is, when diuers words lie linked to­gether, or proceed from one, as from Doctrina, which is in the mind, issue doctus, for affecting the subiect wherein it lodgeth, and doctè, for qualifying his speeches, writings, and other literall actions; learning, learned, learnedly; wisedome, wise, wisely; vertue, vertuous, vertuously. Things which we name, haue alwaies some being, either reall or possible (for chimeres and entia fictitia, although they haue a being in conceptu, yet not discussiue for que­stionsA [...]sit. or disputes) which we call Ansit, and this metho­dically [...] Anres sit pos­sibil [...]s. we diuide into foure problemes or questions: as, if the thing be possible, if conuenient, if necessarie, if done. As for example, we may demaund about the incarnation of Christ, if it be possible, that the second person in tri­nitie could vnite his person vnto mankind, and depriue it of the owne and proper: many infidels denie the possi­bilitie.4 An conueni­ens. But admit it were possible, yet some other pagans denie that his incarnatiō was conuenient, that we should abase so mightily his maiesty as to couer his immortality with the mortall garments of our miseries. Yet admit it were possible and conuenient, notwithstanding there5 An necessari [...]. may be another question asked, whether it were necessa­rie such a misterie should be effected: and suppose it was necessarie, if God would haue his iustice exactly satisfied [Page 187] and a full ransome payd for the sinnes of man, yet there6 Ansacta. remaineth the last doubt, whither God really defacto per­formed this or no.

Quid sit.

This question leadeth our memorie necessarily to six other places: the nature of the thing representeth the de­finition,7 De [...]initio. for there is no nature (except sūma genera which are parts of nature) but they are difinible: so we haue lo­cum à difinitione, as, homo est animal rationale, or, constans ex anima intellectuale & corpore organicae: in which defi­nitions, the first which is metaphysicall, affoordeth two places, à genere and à differentia. And the second,8 Genus. 9 Differentia. 10 Materia. 11 Forma. which is physicall, sheweth vs other two, viz. the mate­riall and formall causes: and for that euery nature defi­ned hath either vnder it species or indiuidua, here hence we haue the sixt place à speciebus, the Rhetorians call it à 12 Speci [...]bus. forma.

Qualis sit.

The question Qualis sit demaundeth to know the pro­prieties of the thing: but we will extend it a little farther and comprehend al accidents and what else may any way affect and qualifie the thing, & so this question will open the way to an endlesse treasurie of inuention. First in it shall be considered all the proprieties and effects which necessarily ensue: as for example: Is it laudable? then it is vertuous: Is it vertuous? then laudable: Is the sunne ri­sen? then it is day: is the sunne set? then is it night: and contrariwise. This the Rhetoritians call locum ab antece­dentibus 13 Locus ab an­teced [...] & consequen­ [...]. & consequentibus. Secondly we will anex here­unto all inseparable accidents: as blacknesse in a crow, heat in euery heart that liueth, &c. Thirdly, all separable [Page 188] accidents, which bee innumerable: we may helpe our selues for discourse sake, and the better further our inuen­tion if wee reduce them to the nine accidentall predica­ments,14 Locus [...]b ad­ [...]. and make a generall suruey ouer them: and com­monly in the foure species of qualitie, action or passi­on, relation, &c. we shall [...]ind diuers meanes to persuade our matter. And first the predicament of quantitie repre­senteth vnto me equalitie or in equalitie: and thereby I15 Locus à com­paratione. haue locum à comparatione maiorum, minorum, & aequa­lium; as if Christ washed his disciples feet, much more ought we for humilitie sake, doe the same one to ano­ther.

The predicament of qualitie affoordeth vnto me om­nia bona & mala gratiae & peccati, bona animae, bona corpo­ris, bona fortunae. The perfections of grace, as faith,All these haue reference ad loc [...] 14. qui est ab adiunctis. hope, charitie, the inspirations of God; the suggestions of the deuill, the allurements of the world: the acquisit perfections or imperfections of the soule, as sciences, arts, trades, policie, prudence, wisedome, or any other intel­lectuall habilitie good or bad; vertue, vice, iustice, in­iustice, &c. Bodily perfections or imperfections consist in health or sickenesse, strength or weaknesse, beautie or deformitie, towardnesse or vnaptnesse to any thing, ver­tuous or vicious inclinations. The fauours or crosses of fortune comprehend, riches, or pouertie, friends, or foes, fecunditie of children or sterilitie, nobilitie or basenesse of birth: whereunto we may reduce the antiquitie of a familie, or how a man is the first foundation or origen of his house.

In the predicament of relation I find occasion to call to memorie three places. First à contrarijs, for this place16 Locus à con­trarijs. [Page 189] includeth the foure species of opposition: contraria, rela­tiua, contradictoria, priuatiua. Secondly, likelinesse or vnlikelinesse are also relatiues, and consequently belong to this same predicament; and we haue Locum à simili & 17 Locus à simili & dissimili. dissimili. And for that things which repugne any way together, carrie with them a spice or release of contrarie­tie: therefore here wee will settle locum à repugnantibus. 18 Locus à non repugnantibus. As for example, hee speaketh ill of him, therefore he lo­ueth him not; he speaketh well of him, therefore he ha­teth him not.

Considering the predicament of action and passion, in regard they may be affected with sundrie circumstan­ces, which better or impaire them, therefore I thought good to set downe this rule, which in generall distingui­sheth their otherwise inuolued confusion.

Quis, quid, vbi, quibus auxilijs, cur, quomodo, quando.
Who, what, what time, and where,
How, why, what helpes were there.

Who: notifieth not the person absoluely, which in eue­ry humane action is required, and the condition of his person: as a king, a magistrate, a bishop, or a clergie man, a deere friend, &c. for if any of these commit an offence, the dignitie of the person aggrauateth the sinne: as Iudas in iniuring Christ, who was one of his disciples, sinned more grieuously, than if another man had acted the same trespasse.

What: giueth vs to vnderstand the dammage or no­cument, which casually was annexed, but necessarily proceedeth from our action, or some great good, which thereunto ensueth: as he that killeth a poore man, who by his labour maintained his wife and children: offen­deth [Page 190] more heynously, than if he had wanted them.

What time: insinuateth the season or day, when an enterprise or sinne were effected: as the worthy exploits of Iudith and Hester were greatly to be commended, be­cause they deliuered their people, at such times as they were in extreame daunger.

Where: designeth the place: and in respect of this cir­cumstance, che sinne of Lucifer in heauen, of Adam in Paradice, theft or dishonestie in the Church, are estee­med more enormious.

How: sheweth the manner of the action, the vehemen­cie of the affection, the intention or excesse of malice, the knowledge or ignorance, with what difficultie or facility, with what passion or impediment the action was effe­cted.

Why: pointeth at the extrinsecall end, or remote finall cause of the action: as if a man steale to giue almes, if he studie for honour, if he serue his prince and countrey mercinarily for hope onely of preferment or gaine.

What helpes: this circumstance remonstrateth the councell, aiders, abetters, or any other way fauourers of our actions, as also the instruments or seruants we vsed in the managing thereof.

Propter quid.

As this question inquireth the cause of the effect to be proued by demonstration, so it ministreth vs occasion to remember these two places, à causis, or ab effectis. 19 Locus à cau­si [...]. 20 Locus ab ef­fect [...].

To these twentie places we may ad ten more, groun­ded vpon authoritie, largely declared by Melchior Canus in his twelue books De locis Theologius; but for that these concerne specially diuines, and they may easily commit [Page 191] them to memorie, therefore I will remit this labour to the related authour.

This short abstract of inuention I haue rather set downe to helpe the memorie, than to instruct the vnder­standing; for I am not ignorant, that this matter requireth an ample volume, and both Rhetoritians and Logitians spend much paines, and write large discourses therupon. But for that I perceiued in my selfe, that a multitude of places, without a forme of method, engendered rather confusion than furthered inuention, therefore I haue sor­ted them into heads: because the nature of our memo­rie is such, that if it conceiue but an inckling of any mat­ter, presently by the force of discourse, our vnderstanding followeth it: and now hauing all places reduced to foure heads, he had a bad memory could not remember them, and a worse wit which could not draw forth a number of arguments out of them. I cannot denie but pregnant spi­rits and eleuated iudgements in a moment, almost, pierce their matter, and behold before their eyes a number of sound and substantiall reasons, which enuiron the que­stion proposed on euery side; but these be few and rare, others need more helpe: and yet euen these also may be greatly furthered, for the best places which consort with common peoples capacities, are for most part out of learned mens bookes; as similitudes, examples, contrari­eties, remote accidents, and circumstances, and therefore they had need of some short remembrance, to pull their wits by the elbow, and will them not to diue too deepe, least they, who by reason should best vnderstand their reasons (I meane the meaner wits, who for most part are generall auditors) be depriued of that instruction and in­formation [Page 192] the Oratour intendeth, and they expected. Thirdly, we must obserue, that in amplifications (which are in effect nothing else but either exaggerations, or cu­mulations of reasons) diuers things are to be noted.

First, in amplifications all conceits should relish a cer­taine greatnesse▪ and carie with them some sort of excesse: if we praise, then the persons and things praised must be commended for some admirable excellencie; if we exhort or dissuade, then are to bee discouered a sea of great goodnesse, or a multitude of mightie euils.

Secondly, the reasons which we amplifie, require great perspicuitie, and apertnesse in deliuerie, because the attention which otherwise should be imployed about the affection, will wholy be consumed or drawne to the vn­derstanding: for it is impossible to attend much at one time both to speculation and affection. Furthermore our speech being cursorie, and specially framed for meane ca­pacities, will not be able to make any impression in audi­tors, except our reasons be meruailous plaine & euident.

Thirdly, our reasons should be largely declared, and yet with sharpe, and short varietie interlaced: resembling a volley of shot speedily deliuered, but not without bul­lets to batter downe the walles of wilfull affections. And for this cause we may vse pithie short descriptions, com­pounded of some metaphor annexed with some proprie­tie, which is most vsuall with orators: as Cicero com­mendeth histories: for saith he, Histories are the witnes­ses1. D [...] Orat. of times, the light of trueth, the life of memorie, the mistris of life, the messenger of antiquitie, &c. so may we in like manner describe man to be a shadow of pleasure, a glorious flower, a fading rose, an vnsatiable appetite, [...] [Page 193] circle of fancies, a running riuer, a mortall angell, a reaso­nable beast, a vitious monster declining from his na­ture, &c. Many similitudes or dissimilitudes, examples, contrarieties, effects repugnant, may easilie be inuented, readily deliuered, and in a moment vnderstood; so that by this meanes profound conceit shall bee facilited, and there with the auditors instructed, delighted, and moued.

Fourthly, as passions are diuers, so motiues to stirre them vp are various, and therefore now method requi­reth that we descend to the immediat sparkes which must set the soule on fire, and kindle the passions, or like winds blow off the ashes, that the coales may be reuiued: for hetherto we haue talked a farre off and layd but the first foundations, by these particular motiues which follow, passions immediatly, properly, & effectually are moued.

Motiues to Loue.

O My God, the soule of my soule, and the life of all true loue: these drie discourses of affections, without any cordiall affection, haue long deteined, & not a little dista­sted me. Now that I come towards the borders of Loue, giue me leaue O louing God, to vent out and euaporat the affects of the heart, and see if I can incense my soule to loue thee intirely and suisceratly, and that all those mo­tiues which stirre vp mine affections to loue thee, may be meanes to inflame all their hearts which read this trea­tise penned by me. But alas; where shall I begin to parley of affections, who am so stained with imperfections, and corrupted with infections? Come, come you sacred che­rubins, you morning starres of neuer darkening light, de­scend you Seraphins, you burning lampes of loue: and tell me what motiues mooue you to loue your God so [Page 194] vehemently, and vncessantly? I know you will answere, that your loue is of another stampe than mine, and ther­fore that your language cannot bee vnderstood in the land of mortall men. Ah my God euer loued too litle, & shall I neuer be able neither to loue, nor speake of loue inough? shall I aduenture to weaue a web of such subtile golden threds, in such a rotten rustie loome? did not Isay excuse himselfe for speaking of thee, because his lips were polluted and durst not attempt so mightie an enter­prise, till with a burning coale of loue his mouth was purified? Did not Dauid thirst after thee, like the thirstie Hart the fountaines of cleare water, and yet he exclai­med, Imperfectum meum viderunt oculi tu [...], Thou hast O Lord beheld mine imperfection? Did not the SeraphinsEsay. 6. glowing with fiery affections, vaile their feet with golden wings, thereby shewing a reuerent shame of their imper­fit loue, as vnworthie of such a supreme maiestie? And what, gratious Lord, shall I thinke, speake, or write of thy loue, whose best knowledge is scarce comparable with their ignorance, whose purest affections are but inordinat passions, in respect of their feruent desires, and inflamed charitie? But alas, to say nothing, were to admite thee, but with blind ignorance: to speake not condignly, were irreuerently to conuerse with thee: What? shall I then neither speake, nor hold my peace? O fountaine of loue, such is the abysse of thy goodnesse, that thou reputest that ynough, when we doe all we can: endue me there­fore, O bountifull God, with thy grace, that since I can­not speake so worthily of thee, as thou deserues; at least I may speake in such sort of thee, as at an vnworthie sin­ners hands thou expects. A long season (O my God, the [Page 195] warie waigher of all my wayes) haue I ranged abroad and reuelled among thy creatures: I cannot say I loued them, for then why did they cloy me and anoy me? nei­ther can I auer that I hated them, for they delighted me. Alas, they pleased me, because they were sprinckled and bedewed with some drops of amabilitie, which thou diddest let fall vpon them from the immensiue Ocean of thy bountie: they molested me, because I loued not them aright, that is, in thee, and for thee, but for themselues and my delight. After I had prodigally spent my patrimonie by surfeiting in pleasure, and therein obseruing neither law, rule, nor measure, at last I returned to thee, & found all those motiues in thy maiestie in a farre more eminent degree vnited, than I before in all the vast multitude of thy creatures, had tried dispersed. I loued my parents, asThe first mo­tiue of Loue is par [...]ntage. authors of my being, and imparters of life, and this with­out teacher by nature I was instructed. When after I tur­ned mine eyes to thee, I perceiued there was but a small sparke of paternitie in my progenitours, compared to thee. Thou gaue them bodies, being, and life to bee pa­rents: thou preserued, conserued, and enabled them: thou created my soule alone, wherin they neither had part nor action: thou formed my body, when they neuer minded me: thou hast kept me day and night, when they neuer remembred me: yea, when both they and I were fast a­sleepe, thy watchfull eye waked ouer both them and me. In the progresse of my tender yeares I loued them whoBeneuolence. bestowed fauours and benefits vpon m [...]: and this I per­ceiued not to bee a thing proper to men alone, but also incident to beasts, who loue and fawne vpon their bene­factors. When I lifted vp mine [...]ies to thee, and conside­red [Page 194] the meat I eat, the drinke I dranke, the cloathes I wore, the aire I breathed, the sences I vsed, the life I enioi­ed, the wit wherewith I reasoned, the will wherewith I affected, all were thy dayly gifts, hourely, momently, yea instantly by thy prouident hand vpheld and maintained; I concluded with my selfe, that of all benefactors thou was the best, and therefore deserued to be loued most: and for that euery instant I wholly in bodie and soule, life and being, depended vpon thee; so in euery instant, if it were possible, I should consecrate my selfe intirely, with a most gratefull remonstrance and recognition of thy benefits bestowed vpon me. When yeares grew vpward, and reason riper, in reading antient, prophane, and sacred wri­ters, I found in them certaine worthie men highly com­mended and celebrated, here a Salomon for wisedome, a Dauid for valour, a Hercules, an Achilles, an Alexander, a Caesar, a Scipio, an Hanniball, a Constantine, in panigericall Orations, in heroicall verses blazed abroad to all the world present, and registred for record to all posteritie, asThird motiue. Excellencie. valiant captaines, prudent gouernours, glorious Heroes, mirrors and maiesties for their times in the world. And it seemed to me, that my heart was drawne to loue & affect such personages, for albeit I admired their eminencie a­boue the rest, yet I know not how, but such an excellen­cie wrung out and enforced a reuerent affection in my breast: for I esteemed them worthie of loue, whom so many wise men thought worthie of admiration, and re­puted as worthies of the world. Afterwards with the eies of my consideration I glanced (O my God of infinit per­fection) vpon thee: & all these renowned Heroes resem­bled to my sight, so many mirmicoleons or lions amōgst [Page 195] emmets (who surpasse them a little in greatnes and force) in comparison of lions indeed for might, and Olyphants for immensitie, nay lesse, for what are all monarchs and mights compared to thee, but folia quae vento rapiuntur, Iob. 13. dried and withered leaues blowne abroad with dust in the wind, with a blast of thy mouth they are blowne downe from their regall thrones, withered with diseases, dispersed in sepulchres, consumed to dust, and euery mo­ment, whē it pleafeth thee, annihilated & reduced to no­thing. What hath their power to doe with thine omni­potencie? their base excellencie with thy supreme maie­stie? their prudence, policie, stratagems, with thine infinit wisedome, and incomprehensible counsels? Ah my God of boundlesse blessednesse, as the highest pitch of their preheminence is vile vassalage compared to thee, so thy loue should disdaine not onely to be equalled, but also conferred with theirs.

The further I passed, the more obiects alluring to loue4. Motiue. Beautie. I discouered: for beautie of bodies, the glorie of nature, the glimpse of the soule, a beame of thy brightnesse, I see, so inticed mens senses, inueagled their iudgements, led captiue their affections, and so rauished their minds, that such hearts were more present in thoughts & desires with such bodies where they liked and loued, than with that bodie wherein they soiourned and liued. And what was this beautie which so fed their appetites? it could not be certainely any other thing than the apt proportion and iust correspondence of the parts and colours of visible bodies, which first delighted the eye, and then contented the mind, not vnlike the harmony of proportionable voi­ces and instruments, which seed the eare; and health which issueth from the iust proportion & temper of the [Page 196] foure humors; and some daintie tast, which ensueth from the mixture of diuers delicat meats compounded in one. This harmony of mortall bodies (O my God the beauty of beauty) hath disconsorted, and consequently deformed many an immortall soule. Thou neither hast bodie nor parts, and therefore art thou not beautifull? Why then didst thou say, & pulchritudo agri mecum est: the beautiePsal. 39. Isay. 66. of the field is with me and in me? If thou didst argument profoundly, and conclude infallibly, that thou wast notPsal: 73. Luck. 12. barren, who imparted fecunditie to others: questionlesse thou must by right reason be beautifull, who deckes and adornes the poore lillies in the field, with a more glorious mantle than euer couered the corps of sage Salomon, for all his treasures & wisdome. Thou wantest grosle, massie, terrene, corruptible parts, wherein according to our ma­teriall sensuall conceits, beautie consisteth: but thy beauty transcendeth this infinitly more, than all the world the least graine of sand which lieth vpon the Ocean shoare. For thy harmonie, thy consort, thy proportion, springeth from the admirable vnion of all thy perfections: all thy creatures produced and producible, in thee are vnited, the lambe and the lion, fire and water, whitenesse and black­nesse, pleasure and sadnesse; without strife or contention, without hurt or iniurie, in a diuine harmonie and most amiable beautie dwell, reside, and liue in thee. Some phi­losophers said truly, albeit not so plainely as all common people could perceiue them, That thou wast a centre out of which issued innumerable lines (they meant thy crea­tures) the further they extended from thee, the further they were disunited among themselues, and the neerer they approched vnto thee, more strictly they were linked together, and at last all vnited and identified in thee their [Page 197] centre, last end, and rest. Gardens and fields are beautifull, pallaces, cities, prouinces, kingdomes, bodies of men and women, the heauens, the angels, and in fine, the whole vniuersall world framed in number, weight, and measure, all parts keeping their places, order, limits, proportion and naturall harmonie, all these in particular in themselues, and combined in one, are inameled with a most gratious vagisnesse, lustre, and beautie: all which proceeded from thee, and resideth in thee, and are comprised in a far more sublime and eminent degree in thee, than in themselues, or than an angell of gold containeth in value ten shillings of siluer: for in themselues they are limited in essence, and kept within the narrow bounds and bankes of naturall perfection, but these little riuers ioined in thee, find an il­limitate and boundlesse sea, wherein they haue neither bottome nor bound. What shall I say of you three, three sacred persons in Trinitie, distinguished really, and yet in­distinct essentially? doth not this distinction cause a dif­ference, and this admirable vnion an inexplicable conso­nance? Are not your three persons hypostases or subsi­stences, the infinit bounds, lists, and limits of an intermi­nat, immensiue, and endlesse essence? Are not these the borders of your beautie? your attributes of bountie, sim­plicitie, vnitie, veritie, eternitie, immensitie, impassibilitie, wisdome, prouidence, omnipotency, charity, iustice, mer­cie, clemencie, benignitie, magnificencie, in some sort di­stinguished, yet really the same perfection are your blessed intellectuall face: those amiable colours, that glorious beautie, that maiestical countenance, that celestial bright­nesse, the Angels desire to behold, the blessed saints con­templat, and we wandering pilgrims aspire vnto in the end of our perigrination, the which will feed vs without [Page 198] satietie, content vs without appetite of change, where­in consisteth all happinesse, ioy, and rest.

Beautie is the rind of bountie, and those creatures are5 Motiue. [...]ountie or goodnesse. more beautifull which are more bountifull: For bountie and goodnesse resemble the Sunne, beautie the beames, bountie the spring, beautie the riuer, bountie the heart, beautie the face, bountie the tree, beautie the flower, bountie the flesh, beautie the feathers. This truth cannot bee denied: for if that beautie bee nothing els but a iust proportion of parts, with an apt correspondence of temper in colours in these inferiour bodies, or bright­nesse and lightnesse in the superiour, and such sem­blable perfections in soules and spirits, no doubt but better parts, finer colours, purer lights proportionably combined, cause a more excellent beautie, shew, and lustre: as the siner gold, the richer stones (if art bee correspondent) the more vage and beautifull iewell. But here alas, in humane corpes it falleth out contra­riwise: for although indeede, a beautifull bodie in a child, a youth, a man, a woman, an old man (for a different beautie adorneth all these) argue a better sub­stance, and a more sound corporall perfection; yet the soules of such, by the mallice of men and women, are commonly worse; for beautie they make an in­strument of vice, which by right reason should be an ornament of vertue: and therefore such beautie ill be­seemeth such bodies, and fitly the holy ghost compa­rethCircul [...]s aurtus in nuribus suis, [...] pulchra & fatua. Prou. c. 11. a womans beautifull bodie, linked with a bad soule, to a ring of gold in a swines snout, which euer lies rooting in dirt and myre. Bountie then and beautie by nature are linked together, though peruerse soules like stinking corpes lie buried in beautifull sepulchres, [Page 199] though rustie blades bee couered with golden sheaths, though dragons gall and bane of Basiliskes stand closed vp in viols of Christall. Yet howsoeuer by sympathie of nature they be connexed, and by malitious affections, in vs disconsorted, neuerthelesse, I haue alwaies proued by experience, that bountie and goodnesse were principall motiues of loue, yea, to say truth, I knew neuer thing loued, but that it was gilded with goodnesse. If I loued learning, it was because it was good in it selfe, and a per­fection of mine vnderstanding; if meat or drinke, be­cause they were good for my bodie, to restore the for­ces vanished; if cloaths, because they kept me warme: and finally, whatsoeuer I affected, I palpably felt it either good in it selfe, or good for my selfe. And there­upon I remember a sound philosopher pronounced a solemne axiome, as vndoubted in speculation, so day­ly experimented in action, Bonum est, quod omnia appe­tunt, Goodnesse is that which all things affect. All beasts, though reasonlesse, yet in loue follow this ge­nerall instinct and inclination of reason, imprinted in their hearts (O infinit wisedome!) with the indoleble characters of thy prouidence, to affect nothing but that in some sort concerneth their good. Ah my God of boundlesse bountie, Nemo bonus nisi solus Deus, thouLuk. 18. onely essentially of thy selfe, without list or limit art good, all things else by participation and limitation. An Angell hath goodnesse, and therefore is amiable, yet he is but a drop distilled from thee, in that quantitie, degree, and measure, thy wisedome prescribed, and his circumferenced nature required. What, O my God, is goodnesse, but perfection, integritie of essence, com­pletenesse and fulnesse of beautie? What is perfection, [Page 200] but an intier possession of all that such a nature or sub­stance should haue? and so thy word witnesseth, that theJ [...]itur perfecti [...]unt [...], & omnis ernatus [...]rum. Gen. 2. 1. heauens were framed perfit, because they wanted nothing necessarie or requisit to their nature: and for all this, the heauens want wit and reason, howbeit they are perfit in their sencelesse kind. But in thee what want can their be? no parts, because thou art simple without composition; no perfection can bee scant in fulnesse and intention, where all are infinit. And therefore if in earth I thirsted after the vnpure drops of thy created goodnesse (com­pared to thine increate bountie) how much more should I thirst after thee, the pure Christall fountaine of life? Ah Quam bonus Israel Deus, ijs qui recto sunt corde? Psal. 72. How good is the God of Israel to them who are of a right heart? Trinit as diuinarum personarum est summum bonum, quod purgatissimis mentibus cernitur. The Trini­tie of diuine persons (saith Austen thy seruant) is a su­premeAug. 1. de Trini. cap. 2. circa init [...]um. goodnesse, which is beheld with most purified minds. Bonus est Dominus sperant [...]bus in eum, animae quae­renti illum. Our Lord is good to them that hope in him, to that soule which inquireth for him. What then, my God the abisse of bountie, art thou not good to all, but to such soules as search for thee, as are purified from of­fences, as are right hearted? No no thy goodnesse no lesse extendeth her sphere, than thine omnipotencie her might: and as nothing euer receiued being but by thine almightie hand, so nothing integritie of being but by thy bountifull hand. What man euer liued and enioyed not the heat and light of this visible sunne? Or who euer li­ued or continued life, but by the beames of thine inuisi­ble bountie. But true it is and registred in all sacred re­cords of antiquitie for an infalliable veritie, that thy good­nesse [Page 201] is specially extended & poureth forth her treasures more aboundantly vpon those good soules who in sin­cere, pure, affectuall, and thirstie hearts seeke for thee. Thou art a sea of goodnesse, fauours, and graces, euery one may enioy thee that will with all his heart serue and loue thee; howbeit the greater vessell receiueth more abundance.

The sixt motiue to Loue is Pleasure.

IN all the sonnes of men, and in all sorts of beasts, I dayly and hourely discouered, an insatiable desire of delight: and almost nothing loued vehemenrly, but that which was canded with semblable pleasure: it were in vaine to demonstrate this by reason, since euery mo­ment fresh experience teacheth, that sensualities first step in euery action, tendeth to pleasure and solace; and those things she accounteth and priseth most, which sensually delight her best. O God of incomprehensible wisdome, and ininuestigable prouidence, how potent is this bait of pleasure, to allure, to deceiue, to precipitate vnwarie soules into eternall miserie! It is passed almost in euery sence in a moment, and yet the importunitie neuer cea­seth.The base and bad conditi­ons of sensu­all pleasure. It is beastly (for all sences are common to men with beasts) and yet it seemeth euer to promise a paradice of ioy It is most erronious sophisticating mens minds, and yet beareth, or at least pretendeth a show of reason. It in apparance promiseth rest and quietnesse, but in effect dis­poiled the soule of all rest and quietnesse. It is admirable how men affected with pleasure are chaunged and me­tamo [...]phosed from themselues, vntroubled with such an inordinat passion. It is exceeding daungerous, and yet [Page 202] for the present it lulleth a man with a world of securitie. It is for most part vitious, and damnable, and yet for most part and of most persons approoued and accepted of as vertuous and laudable. And therefore the bad conditi­ons of sensuall pleasure, be such as wise men either wholy disdaine them, or vse them with such parsimonie, that they take them as medicines in a certaine carelesse pas­sage, rather than much desired solaces, not placing in them any extraordinarie contentation and rest. For how can that be called delight, which carrieth with it so many iust causes of discontentment, nay of basenesse, disgrace, remorce of conscience, desert of punishment? Ah my God the fountaine of water of life, the true paradice of pleasure, delight of delights, when these transitorie follies, or fugitiue fancies, or pernitious errours, or sweet poy­sons, or sugred gall, so gulled and mislead my soule, why had I not recourse to thee? how came it to passe that I cōsidered not those floods of pleasure prepared for them that loue thee? De torrente voluptatis potabis eos? The simphonie and sacred melodie of Angels euer sounding in the land of the liuing, and neuer ceasing for them that scrue thee? Whywaighed I not those ineffable ioies that neuer eye see, nor eare heard, nor heart conceiued, which thou hast & euer hadst in a readines for them who serue thee as subiects, obey thee as seruāts, loue thee as childrē, conuerse with thee as friends? Ah soueraigne sweetnesse surpassing the honie & honie combe, if I had but tasted one drop of those diuine dainties, if I had but sipt one spoonefull of those sacred liquors, it had bin no meruaile if I had serued thee, endured all molestfull labours, sup­ported all disgracefull iniuries: for that sweetnesse would haue allayed all these bitternesses, that gaine extenuated [Page 203] and cōsumed to nothing all this paine which we sustaine in this miserable exile, But what if sensible feeling want, shall infallible faith faile? It should not: but in whom doth it not? for if liuely faith were excited, these fragill pleasures would be dispised. Yet thou hast not wholy, O bountifull God, reserued all thy spirituall, honest, vertu­ous, supernaturall, diuine pleasures, for the citisens of thy heauenly Hierusalem; but euen in the barren defect of this perilous perigrination, thou hast let fall a certaine kind of manna, though not to be gathered in great abun­dance, yet in a little measure and sufficient quantitie; thou hast refreshed in some sort thy thirstie people with most sweet water distilled from the rocke de petra melle satu­rauit eos. For what are those admirable consolations thy faithfull friends feele in the inundation of their aduersi­ties, tollerated for thy sake, but a sacred Manna in the de­sart? What are those comforts, which good soules ga­ther euen out of Christs bitter passions, but honey distil­led from the craggie rocke? What else signifie those iu­bilies of heart, and most secret ioyes, which proceed from a good conscience grounded vpon a confident hope of future saluation, but those great clusters of grapes shewed vnto them, in signe of the fertilitie of the future land of promise? What else can prognosticat the sweetnesse of feruent prayers, but the infinit suauitie and happie con­tentation, which once feruent beleeuing louers shall en­ioy in thy blessed companie and heauenly conuersati­on? But few feele these ioyes in this life: And why? because they will not cracke the shell to get the kernill; they refuse to pare the peare, to eat the pulpe; they loath to tyll the ground, to reape the haruest; they flie [Page 204] the warres, and leese the glorie of the victorie; they disdaine the digging of craggie mountaines, and so ne­uer find the mine of gold; they shun the paine of pru­ning their vines, and therefore enioy not the fruit thereof: in fine, they flie mortification of carnall sen­sualitie, and therefore attaine not vnto the sweet spiri­tuall consolations of Christian charitie. To conioyne them both together, were as possible, as to combine light and darkenesse, water and fire, the Oynions of Aegypt with the heauenly Manna, the foode of An­gels: for this resolution and infallible conclusion must euer bee had in memorie, that a man cannot enioy a paradice in this life, and a future paradice in the life to come.

The seuenth Motiue to Loue, which is Profit.

O Sacred Monarch of this mightie frame, into what a disconsorted estate are men fallen. I see it now held for a precept, publickely divulged in matters of State, and as it were registred for a funda­mentall principle, That all degrees and leagues of princesBotero lib. 2. della regio, di stato. cap. della prudenta. ayme at priuate interest; and therefore that a prince should neither trust to friendship, nor affinity, nor league, nor any other bond, wherein he that dealeth with him, hath not some ground of interest: as though all worldly friendship were founded in one or other sort of vtilitie. But this is not proper to our dayes alone, for in passed ages an auncient Poet said:

Donec eris foelix, multos numerabis amicos,
Philip. 2.
Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus eris.
When fortune smiles, then friends abound,
When fortune frownes, few friends are found.

And one more wiser than he, Omnes quaerunt quae sua sunt, All looke for interest and priuate commodities. We said aboue, that all men naturally loue their be­nefactors, but more generally here wee may auouch, that all men loue those things whatsoeuer affoord them any profit or vtilitie: a man loues his horse, his house, his seruants which are trustie, his possessions, his heards of oxen, and finally, whatsoeuer addeth or encreaseth the goods of Nature or Fortune: and as this loue of concupiscence raigneth in all worldly hearts, so it tea­cheth them to loue best that which profiteth them most: and albeit very often it be but base and vitious, yet gui­ded by reason, and ruled by charitie, it may be good and vertuous. But what is profit or profitable? That which enableth vs, as a meane to get some good end, honest or voluptuous, or agreeable vnto vs, intended and desi­sired. And therefore we account possessions profitable, which serue vs for necessaries to sustaine life: we repute horses profitable, because by them we make our iournies more speedily: we esteeme trades and merchandise pro­fitable, because by them we gaine ri [...]hes, which in effect are all things. What shall I say here, O soueraign Lord? Shall I make thee a meane to get me profit, who art the end of all profits and commodities? Or shall I compare thy maiestie with these our vile miseries? Who can be ignorant of thy inexhausted treasures, but he that is ig­norant who thou art? Or who doth not know the innu­merable [Page 206] meanes and helpes he daily receiueth from thee, to conserue nature, and further grace, but he that know­eth neither himselfe nor thee? what is thy raine and dew which continually fall and fatten the earth, but our gaine purchased without either payment or paine? What is the heat of the Sunne and foure seasons of the yeere, so requisit for nature, so beneficiall to all mortall men, but dayly commodities and hourely profits? what bird in the aire, what fish in the sea, what beast in the land, what planet in the heauens, what starre in the firmament, what mettall in the earth, what floure in the field, what tree in the orchard, what herbe in the garden, what root, barke, wood, leafe, floure, or fruit, yeeldeth not some emolument to man, serueth not him either for meat, medicine, cloathes, exercise, pleasure, or some other conuenient end, and consequently are profitable vnto him? and thou therefore the root, fountaine, and origen of all, profitable in all, by all, and aboue all. In the spiri­tuall life of our soules, thy sacraments, are conduits of grace; thine inspirations, helpes to holinesse; thy word a medicine for Ghostly maladies; thy crosses and afflicti­ons, meanes, for amendment. And thus my God of endlesse wealth, euery creature affoording one com­moditie, with a sounding voice vnto my heart, though silent to mine eare, cryeth continually and exhorteth me vncessantly, to conferre them all to thy honour, who hast so kindly bestowed them vpon me, for my good.

The 8. Motive to Loue, which is Honestie.

I Take not Honestie in this place, as an obiect of tem­perance, opposite to dishonestie or impuritie: but as a generall obiect to all Vertue, called by Divines and moral Philosophers, Honestum contra-distinguished to vtile & delectabile, to profitable and delightfull: for in the former sense a man may be honest, and yet an vniust person, an Vsurer, a Murtherer &c. For divers men mayVide Arist [...]. 9. moral. Nic [...]. cap. 4. & Pl [...] in Hipparcho. be chaste of body, who are otherwise addicted to sun­dry vices in Soule. But here I take Honestie, as com­prehending all actions, or good inclinations, or vertu­ous habilities, tending and bending the Soule to follow Reason, and enabling a man to live like a man: and so Honestie includeth all Vertues, and excludeth all vices.

Wee proove by daylie experience, that if a man bee beautifull and personable, he is amiable: if valour bee therewith conioyned, hee is more esteemed: if Pru­dence be added, hee is more accounted: if Vertue bee annexed, he is highly reputed: if Religion adorne all these precedent partes, he is admired: if eminent San­ctitie glorifie them, he is adored. For although every ex­cellencie carrieth with it a sweete grace and motive to amabilitie, yet such is the lustre and glorie of Vertue and Honestie, that it alone causeth a more solide friend­ship, love, and amitie: a personable body is often lin­ked with a pestilent soule: a [...] Captaine in the field, for most part is infected with [...] effeminate affecti­on at home: those things we love as profitable, we love not absolutely, but rather in them our selues, for whose vse they serve, and therefore when commoditie faileth, [Page 210] love quaileth. But those men we affect for their hone­stie, those wee love indeed, and that affection is perma­nent: because it standeth vpon a sound foundation, to wit, Vertue and Honestie, the principall obiects of Rea­son, and reasonable affections. And so we proove daily our selves, that wee finde many men, who neyther have beautie of body, nor martiall mindes, nor or­naments of learning, nor riches, nor degrees, and yet onely for that we know them sincere, vpright, and ho­nest, all honest men love them, and maugre malice of the wicked, though spitefully they backe-bite them, yet in their heartes they cannot but commend them. And truely there is almost nothing in this life, which abso­lutely ought to be loved, but that which eyther is, or rel­lisheth of Honestie, for all other loves are either indiffe­rent, mercenarie, or vicious; if Vertue; or vertuous men for their Vertue ought to be loved and esteemed. O my GOD! the Life of Vertue, what Love is due to thee? who art the Quintessence and supreme Perfection, not of heroicall vertue, but of innate and consummate goodnesse, dignitie, and maiestie: which are as farre a­boue the pitch of all excellent Vertues, heroicall, super­naturall, or theologicall, and infinitely more, then the chiefest Vertues surmount the baddest vices. All men by nature are sinners, are peccable, the iust offend often, and he that saith, he hath no sinne, is a Liar. But thou art spotlesse, impeccable, and as farre from all sinne, as in­comprehensible Wisedome from ignorance, and infi­nite Goodnesse from malice. The erroneous ignorant Philosophers, who stumbled sometimes vpon true Ver­tues, though in most they missed the marke, could say, that if a vertuous Soule could be beheld with corporall [Page 211] eyes, it would ravish a man with love and admiration: but what if they had thorowly penetrated the admira­ble secrets, and hidden perfections, which long experi­ence and Gods grace hath taught, would they have said? what if they had vnderstood the mysteries of chri­stianitie, and entred into consideration of the worth, lustre, and glory of Faith, Hope, Charitie, Grace, and other divine Vertues, which they never dreamed vpon? certainely they could not have concluded otherwise, but that a vertuous and religious soule, was gilded with sparkes of Deitie, or inameled with the various radiant beames of Divinitie, and therefore deserved to bee lo­ved, admired, honoured. But what then should both they and we say and affirme of thee, whose wit and will neede no inclining Vertues, to moove, or bend them to wisedome or goodnesse, who runne amayne of them­selves? Vertues in vs perfite those powers of our soules, which without them were vnperfect; but in thee as there can be no imperfection to staine thine Essence, so all Vertues are needlesse in thee, in whom all faculties flow in abundance, by their owne force & efficacie: and therefore thou art in regard of thine eminent Vertue, to be affectually loved, reverently honoured, and with all humilitie, submission and recognisance adored.

The 9. Motive to Love, is Love it selfe.

THe Diamond formeth and fashioneth the Dia­mond, and Love formeth and fashioneth Love: fire converteth fewell into fire, and fewell converted en­creaseth fire: Love causeth Love, and the beloved relo­ving, augmenteth the originall Love. For albeit no [Page 212] man in this life can infallibly assure himselfe to be belo­ved by any, for Love lyeth secretly closed vp within the closet of the heart, which is inaccessible to any mortall eye: yet Love like hidde perfumes, muske, and other odoriferous smelles, casteth a sente though not seene: for wordes, eyes, deedes, gestures, are morall messen­gers, and daily discoverers of a loving minde. And without all question, those persons cannot but bee ac­counted hard hearted, barbarous, fierce and savage, who belove not them of whom they are loved, in case the Love be pure, honest, and consorting with Christianity: for base worldly love grounded vpon interest, & fleshy concupiscence, deserveth rather the name of Mercina­rie Lust, then Love: the reason is, because Love is so pretious a Treasure, so rich a Iewell, so divine a Guift, that I am perswaded; if men could beholde the heartes [...]a Plato in Lyside. of them that truely love them, it would be as violent to withhold them from reloving againe, as a Lionesse from her whelpes lying in her sight, a stone in the ayre from his center, a bullet within a discharged Cannon. And no crosse in this life can befall an honest Lover more mortall and deadly, then not to bee beloved where hee loveth: because in Love, life, thoughts, and affections, are transported into the person beloved, where, if they finde not semblable affection to entertayne them, they pine, they perish, they die. Who would not love an ho­nest vertuous Lover, who honoreth, prizeth, and serveth whom he loveth? for honor, estimation and servitude, if they bee cordiall, cannot bee accounted but rare trea­sures. Hee that loveth vertuously, esteemeth the belo­ved worthy of honour, because hee reputeth him ver­tuous, and therefore in affection yieldeth him condigne [Page 213] honour due to Vertue: he serveth him in regard of his great goodnesse, which in his conceit meriteth all servi­tude and obsequious complements. Who would not love a vertuous Lover, who consecrateth himselfe, and all hee hath vnto the person beloved? for that one friend is thought able to doe, which his friendes can performe and effect: and therefore a man hath so ma­nyArist. 3. moral. Nicom. c. 3. bodies, soules, heartes, eies, eares, tongues, handes, feete, as he hath friendes; and so by this meanes is made potent and mightie. For a true friend will in all cases, places, and occasions deale in the affaires and occurrents of his friend: and for this cause Aristotle thought that friendship and amitie were more necessarie for a Citie, then lawes and iustice, and that the Legifers should have no lesse regard to Love, then to Lawes: for if CittizensArist. 8. moral. c. 1. loved as friendes, they should need no lawes to punish them as enemies. Ah my loving God! I demurre too long in these speculative discourses, and with-hold my soule too much from patheticall affections. Doest thou Love vs? who doubteth? for if thou hadst never loved, we had never lived: and if thy Love continued not pre­servingDiligis omnia quae sunt: & nihil odisti co­rum quae fecisti. Sap. cap. 11. our being, we should presently be resolved into dust and nothing. Well then thou doost prize vs and honor vs: else thou wouldest never have given the pre­tious blood of thy Sonne to have redeemed vs. This ar­gueth estimation, but not honour: for honour suppo­seth subiection, inferioritie, and I know not what kinde of vassalage and servitude: it seemeth too presumptu­ous, if not blasphemous, to make thee either inferior or equall with men, whose Maiestie the highest Sera­phims admire, reverence, worship, and with trembling knees adore. Ah my God! of most maiesticall and ex­taticall [Page 214] Love, shall I presume to enter into the abysse of thy eclypses, excesses, and charitable extasies? They be too deepe for mee, yea, and all the world beside to comprise: yet I know who sayd that thou went out of thy selfe, and suffered extacie thorow the vehemencieDyonis. Artop. cap. 4. de diuin. nom. of Love: his meaning was, that thou seemed to abase thy Maiestie, with succouring and relieving our misery: and that exinanition and transformation of thy su­preme Glorie with Mount-Calvaries ignominie telleth vs no lesse. Thy providence is such over the vniversall world in generall, and every kinde of creature in speci­all, and every man in particular, giving them meanes to atchieue their endes, concurring with them in all their actions, disposing of all so sweetly, that Nature & Grace consort so well together, and thy watchfull provident eye with both, that the wisest may admire thee, and the simplest perceive thee, and none of vs all ever doubt of thy vigilant solicitude, (I dare not call it servitude) yet if service bee a succouring, sustaining, helping, mini­string necessaries, and in every thing assisting vs in best and basest offices, I may say thou lovingly serves all, who without thy service could not serve themselves, nor al the world except thy selfe. Great, no doubt, is thy love (O God without paragon in love) to men in this life: for here thou doest not only affect them, powre out thy benefits vpon them, distill thy graces into their hearts, and a thousand wayes externally and internally worke their salvation, but also that which surpasseth all, it seemeth thy will and power are at the command, or rather ready to obey the desires of thy faithfull servants, for what else meane those protrite words of the Psalme, Voluntatem timentium se facit, He fulfilleth the will ofPsal. 144. [Page 215] them that feare him? and what other sense can be brought of that request thou made to thy servant Mo­ses, Dimitte me, vt irascatur furor meus contra eos, & de­leam Exod. 32. eos, Suffer me, that my fury be revenged of them, and that I may destroy them: but that thy anger and revenge, thy displeasure and their intended destruction laid in Moses power to rule and guide according to his pleasure? O admirable omnipotencie of love! which hath power even over the omnipotent: but if in this life, such is Loves puisance, what shall we say of thy friends and lovers in glory, where all graces and favours abound, where love like the Sunne ever standeth in the Zenith, where presses swim with wine, and fields flow with honnie? Certainely we cannot imagin or con­ceave otherwise, and well, but as thou who put on the person of the good old father, who said to his elder sonne, Fili, tu semper mecum es, & omnia mea tua sunt. OLuc. 15. Sonne, thou art alwayes with me, and what is mine, is thine; so that thou and all thy treasures are the finall in­heritance, possession and kingdome of thy children. But yet more emphatically our blessed Saviour declared the force & effects of thy love when he said, Beati illi ser­vi, quos cum venerit dominus, invenerit vigilantes, amen Luc. 12. dico vobis quod pracinget se, & faciat illos discumbere, & transiens ministrabit illis. Blessed be those servants, whom their Lord when he commeth shall finde watching: Amen I say vnto you, he will cause them sit downe, and passing by, will serve them: this service and sitting, no doubt, signifie the eternall glory whereupon thy Saints shall ever feed, the which cannot be prepared and mini­stred vnto them by any others hands then thine which made them. And alitle below to the same effect, spea­king [Page 216] of his faithfull and trustie servant, what wages in blessednes he shall receive, he addeth, Super omnia quae possidet consiliet eum, his Lord and Maister will give him signiorie and authoritie over all he possesseth, which is the consummation and finall perfection of all true love, and affectuall wishes of all true lovers, that the one have a king of charitable commaund, and a certaine friendly dominion over the other.

The 10. Motive to Love, which is Resemblance.

THe ground of every mans love of himselfe, is the Identitie of a man with himselfe, for the lover and beloved are all one and the same thing: because love be­ing nothing else but a complacence or contentation in the goodnes or perfection one hath with a desier of the accomplishment thereof, consequently as we ought both in grace and nature to preferre none before our selves in the affection of vertue and perfection, so we should not love any above our selves. From the Iden­titie of our selves and the love thereof, necessarily follo­weth a certaine love to all them who are vnited any way vnto vs, and the stricter this vnion is, the stricter affection it engendreth, and for that all things vnited have a kind of resemblance, therefore Philosophers and Divines ground friendship vpon similitude: here hence we love our kinsemen, parents, and children, for the vnion and resemblance in blood: students ground their friendship in the same kind of studies, souldiers in martiall affaires, courtiers in civill courtly carriage, tradesmen in their artes, marriners in navigation: and finally all men of one profession love them of the same, and Omne animal Eccles. 13. [Page 217] diligit sibi simile: and every beast affecteth the like, liveth with the like, consorteth with the like. And the reason is, because a man in this life by nature and grace, by the instinct of his innate iudgement and reasonable affecti­on, prescribeth vnto himselfe an end in this world, void of troubles and molestation, quiet, peaceable, full of rest and contentation: whereat all his labours, thoughts, and meditations levell: moreover, he being a sociable crea­ture had need of men to help him in councell, comfort him in griefes, succour him in sundrie disasters of for­tune, which dayly and casually occurre, and finally con­verse peaceably and agreeably with him: all which, none can performe better, not so well as they whose na­tures and conditions are like vnto ours: for what dis­sention can be among those men, whose wills are one and the same? what sorrowes can greatly molest vs, where friends carrie their portions with vs, and thereby alleviate a great part of their waight? what counsell can preuaile against many friends, who are wise, discreet, faithfull, vertuous? what conversation can be more gratefull, then that, where neither iniuries are offered, nor suspected? in few, as vertue is the surest chaine wherewith men can be bound together, so resemblance in vertue the surest foundation of friendship, and a ver­tuous companie the happiest societie. O my God of most pure and perfit loue, thou spake the word and be­got thine eternall word, thou breathed out thy love and produced the holy ghost, the life and soule of all true love, as well create as increate: thy love in Trinitie is one and the selfe-same identified in all the three per­sons, and the selfe-same thing with their substance: and therefore most intier, inexplicable, and perfit is your [Page 218] loue, the which may not be termed friendship, but ra­ther charitable amitie of an indivisible vnitie. Thy crea­tures are all beloued of thee, because thou like a father in them hast imprinted and stamped a resemblance of thy Maiesty: and because there is none so base and vnperfit but that all the goodnesse it hath, resideth in thee, much more perfitly then it selfe: therefore no child so repre­senteth his father, as every creature thy Maiesty, accor­ding to that perfection it enioyeth, and thy boundlesse essence comprehendeth. What shall I heere say of the image of thy essence and three persons in Trinitie en­grauen in the center of every reasonable soule? this were a matter too prolixe to discourse vpon: but well I may conclude, that if thou love all thy creatures for a darke cognisance they carry vpon their backs of thy glorious greatnesse, no doubt but thou wilt love & fauour man, who beareth in the face of his soule thy perfit portrait and image in a farre higher degree? much more might be added of the blood of Christ, wherewith all soules are sprinkled, who have put him on in their baptisme. Long treatises might be penned of the supernaturall colours, and celestiall graces of faith, hope, charitie, and other infused vertues, wherewith thy friends are refi­ned, enriched, adorned, beautified, and thy image perfi­ted, but of this more diffusedly in my third booke of Threans. Finally, thy future resemblance which all thy faithfull servants shall possesse in glory, of whom is ve­rified that prophesie of S. Iohn, Scimus quoniam cum ap­paruerit, 1. Ioh. 3. similes ei erimus, quoniam videbimus eum sicuti est. Because we know when he appeareth, we shall be like vnto him, for that we shall see him as he is. This glorious retreate of thy blessed face would affoord [Page 219] ample matter to praise thy goodnes, extoll mans great­nes in felicitie, declare the beautie of thy sacred beames wherewith our soules shall be gloriously inamelled, ex­cite vs to love thee heere more fervently, to resemble thee there more lively: but this large subiect would passe the strait compasse of my prefixed brevitie: therefore O blessed God, renew vs within so perfitly here, that we may one day try this truth, with thee there.

The 11. Motive to Love, which is agreeablenesse with Nature.

IF a man should inquire why the Vine so loveth by nature the Elme, that it wrappeth more kindly about it, and bringeth forth more plentie and better grapes, then planted at the roote of any other tree: questionles no other reason could be giuen then a certaine secret sympathie of Nature, a proportionate agreeablenes, and naturall conveniencie. What paine taketh the Hen to sitte so long vpon her egges? what labour endure little Birdes to build their nestes, to feede their yonglings, to teach them by daily examples to avoyde dangers, to procure foode, to conserve, protect and defend them­selves? all these, and thousands such like, proceed from a certaine Love, grounded vpon the agreeablenesse and concordance with Nature. So that small pleasures the poore Birdes finde to leave their owne provision sought with such labour, to cramme their little ones; and no great delight the Hen can reape by so daintily and care­fully covering her egges, but that the want of pleasure is supplied by the conformitie of Nature, which there­in is apertly shewed.

When we see beasts fight, we commonly wish in our harts the victorie should happen rather to the one party then the other: If a reason of this desire were demaun­ded, it were impossible divers times to be rendred, ex­cept we resolved it into a secret sympathie of nature: likewise meeting with a companie of strangers which we never see men or women, presently one shall per­ceive a certaine more affectuall fancie inclined to love one then an other, although divers times both propor­tion, comelinesse, or I know not what other perfection, be more spectable in the reiected, then in the accepted. The same we might say of divers meates drinks, ayers, smells, lodgings, apparell, &c. which agree and are con­formable to some mens nature, but marvellous hurtfull and offensive to others, the which therefore are loved of those, and abhorred of these.

It is hard for me, if not impossible (O God the center of my soule) to explicate the admirable proportion, conveniencie, and agreeablenes betwixt thy mercies and our miseries, thy riches and our poverty, thine habi­lities to perfit vs, and our indignities to be perfited, thy patience and longanimitie to support iniuries, and our perversenes to commit offences. Tell me O thou hart of man, why thou livest in this life, for most part disgu­sted, distasted, vnquiet, ever loving, never perfitly liking, thirsting ever for a happy quiet rest, and never attaining any quietnes to thy full contentment or rest? Ah my God! one who knew this miserie, and had felt the finger of thy mercy, told the cause, for being as vnable to settle himselfe, as he had perceived the same in others, at last was stirred vp to seeke to thee, the center, life, and satietie of the soule.

Tuenim excitas vt laudare te delectet. Quia fecisti nos Aug. lib. 1. con­fes. cap. 1. ad te, & inquietum est cor nostrum donec requiescat in te. Thou excites vs (O God) with delight to praise thee: Because thou hast made vs for thee, and our heart is vn­quiet vntill it rest in thee. So that as the fire flieth to his Sphere, the stone to his Center, the river to the Sea, as to their end and rest, and are violently deteyned in all o­ther places; even so the heartes of men without thee their last end and eternall quietnesse, are ever ranging, warbling, and never out of motion: not vnlike the nee­dle touched with the Load-stone, which ever standeth quivering, & trembling, vntil it enioy the full and direct aspect of his Northerne Pole: O my God of infinite wisedome! who canst speake as well with workes as words; let it be lawfull for me symbollically to inter­pret the triangular figure of mans hart, & say, that as the face of the body may be termed the portrait of affecti­ons and passions; so the heart may be called, the face and figure, or resemblance of the soule, and consequently of thee, (whose image lies drawne in the plane thereof, limmed with thine owne pensil and immortal colours) the heart then of man triangularly respecteth the bles­sed Trinitie, every corner a Person, and the solide sub­stance your common Essence. This heart then resem­bling thee, touched with desire of thee, cannot bee qui­et, but vnited and conioyned with affectuall love and amity with thee. But come wit of man, and shew thy sympathy in desire of thy God, that by thee wee may discover the agreeablenesse hee hath with all reasonable Natures. What is thine inclination, and what thing with mayne and might doest thou wish and essentially crave? Trueth: what trueth? All: so that thy thirst can [Page 222] never bee served, except all trueth thou see revealed: And where is this Trueth to bee found? passe over the vaste vniverse, from the convexe superficies of the high­est Heaven to the center of hell, and thou shalt not get such a request satisfied: passe and pierce thorow all these trueths, and yet the immensive capacitie of thy desire will not completely bee filled. For vntill the Sea of all Truth, & the graund origen of al verities flow into thee, these little drops will rather cause a greater, then quench thy former thirst. Thy God then who is prima Veritas in essendo & dicendo, the first Veritie in being and spea­king, and infinite in both, of all other obiects, doth con­sort with this thy boundlesse comprehension best; and in fine must be thy full satietie, or else never looke to be satisfied. Now that the Wit knoweth where his Rest resteth: Come thou Will of man, and tell vs what thou aymest at: where dwelleth the purport of thy wishes, where lyeth the proiect of thy desires? In goodnesse and perfection; for as the eye beholdeth light, and all colours limmed with light; so thou affects all goodnes, and all things gilded with goodnesse: And where is all this goodnesse to be gotten? Ah! wee trie too palpa­bly, that all things covered with the cope of Heaven, are as farre from fully contenting our willes, as a bitte of meate to a man almost halfe dead of hunger. Who ever yet in this life accounted himselfe persitly happie, and thorowly satisfied in minde, but those which sincerely and affectually loved thee? Alas, who is hee that seeth not how our affections goe rowling and ranging from one base creature to another? seeking contentment, ever hoping, and never obtayning, now in walking, now in conversing, now in beholding, after in eating, studying, [Page 223] and a thousand such like inveagling baites, which do no­thing else, but with a clawing and cloying varietie, rid vs from a sensuall satietie: for when one sense hath drunke vp all his pleasure, and either feeleth not his thirst quenched, or with too much his facultie or corpo­rall instruments endammaged, presently the soule see­keth an other baite to avoyd the former molestation, with a new recreation: and so wandreth and beggeth of every poore creature a scrap of comfort. All this (my sweete God the only obiect of complet contentation) argueth that what is loved without thee, although it a­greeth in part with vs, yet it iumpeth not right, it con­sorteth not in forme and manner as our soules and wils requires. Thou only who foulds in thy selfe all kind of goodnesse art the sole convenient and agreeable obiect of our wits, wills, loves and desires.

The 12. Motive to Love is Necessitie.

NEcessitie was the first inventor of Artes: Pleasure added divers: Vanity found out the rest. Al corpo­rall creatures issued from the hands of God with a ser­viceable harmonicall convenience, consorting with the nature of man: many for necessity, some for delight, o­thers for ornaments. Among the parts of a mans body some are necessary, as the hart, braine and liver: some exceeding profitable yet not absolutely requisite, as two hands, two eyes, two eares, ten fingers, ten toes: some are for ornaments, as the haire of a womans head, and1. Cor. 11. 15. the beard of a man, an apt figure, and personablenes of body, pleasant colours, and divers such like naturall complements. Wherefore if pleasant artes, delightfull [Page 224] creatures, complementall ornaments be greatly loved and liked: questionles necessary trades, creatures, and parts ought much more to be esteemed and affected, be­cause that every one first loveth himselfe, and then all those meanes, which in some sort concerne the being or conservation of himselfe, among which those which are most necessary are necessaryly beloved.

If I consider my body (O good God the only moul­der of all creatures) how it dependeth vpon thee, in vp­holding and propping vp continually the weake pillers thereof least continually they should fall, I well know their feeblenes to be such, and so extreame, that no hand but thine Almighty is able to sustaine them. What way can I walke, what sense can I vse, what worke can I worke, what word can I speake, what thought can I thinke, what wish can I will, if thou guide not my feet, concurre not with my sense, work not with my hands, direct not my tongue, manage not my wit, move not my will? without thy continual, effectual, and principal influence neither my heart can breathe, my stomack dis­gest, my pulses move, my liver make concoction, or any part of my body suck the vitall nourishment which re­storeth lost forces, and keepeth my life in continuance. And therefore I may well say that thou art as necessary to preserve my being, as in first imparting of it, and as re­quisite to any thing I can do, as my very soule, substance and faculties, which are principles of doing. And there­fore with what love should I incessantly affect thee, who have such dependance vpon thee? There be some fishes which presently dye if once they be taken out of the water, & no doubt but much more speedily should both my body and soule perish, and be brought to no­thing, [Page 225] thing, if they were not environed on every side, above, below, within and without, with the omnipotent ver­tue of thine immensive Maiesty.

The 13. Motive to Love, which is the pardoning of Iniuries.

ALthough every vertue rendreth a man amiable, yet some there be so immediately grounded vpon the base of love, as liberality and magnificencie vpon good­nes and amity, that they ravish & wholy leade mens af­fections towards them: for that by them love & boun­tie powre out themselves by communication of what they have, to others. Contrarywise some other vertues so fortifie and establish a man in goodnes, that they arme him invincibly, and make him most potent, either by mildnes, not to perceive any Iniuries, or so corrobo­rate him with patience, that he cannot or will not re­venge them. When Mary had murmured against Moses, and for the foulenesse of her fault, God who was most zealous of his servants estimation, had stricken her with a loathsome leaprie, Moses (as the scripture re­porteth)Num. 12. being the mildest man vpon earth, could not suffer this iust punishment to be inflicted vpon her, but presently demaunded of God that he would cure her. Whereas it seemeth that he neither percei­ved the Iniury, nor could indure the Revenge. And in very deede, it cannot but proceede from a noble magnanimious minde, to contemne all base iniuries of­fered, and to disdaine to repay condignely their deserts: for whomsoever I iniure, I impayre either his estimati­on, or his riches, or his body, or his soule: he then that can tollerate such harmes, sheweth himselfe superior to [Page 226] all that fortune or nature can affoord. Alexander the great went to visite Dio [...]enes the cynicall Philosopher, who would not vouchsafe to visit him, and demanded of him, if he had need of any thing; Yes marrie, quoth Diogenes, (who satte in his philosophicall barrell) that thou stand from before mee, and hinder not the Sunne from comming to me. Alexander was exceedingly delighted with this answere, and so wondered at the maiestie of this Philosophers minde, that after his de­parture, perceiving his Nobles and Minions to mocke and ieast at such a satyricall and exoticall answere vnto their Emperour. Well, well, quoth Alexander, you may say what you will, but I assure you, if I were not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes. For hee desi­red in his heart to surmount all men, and esteeme no­thing, and here he found Diogenes make none account of him, whom hee deemed all the world feared and trembled to heare of. But yet Alexander prooved not Diogenes one step further, for if he had reviled him, if he had whipped him, & divers other wayes iniuried him, then he might have sayd in deede he was arrived at the haven of happinesse, if he had tollerated them with patience, and neither by deed, word, nor thought meditated or intended revenge, for it is not so hard for a man to contemne that he hath not, as to despise all he hath and patiently to suffer himselfe to be dispoyled of all he hath, and besides in body to be af­slicted as Iob, or to be blinded as Tobie, or cast in prison as Ioseph. If Alexander so prized Diogenes vayne con­tempt proceeding from a popular bravado rooted in a private pride, how would he have esteemed Saint Peter and the rest of the Apostles, who left all, and fol­lowed [Page 227] Christs innocencye, tollerating with invin­cible patience a sea of afflictions, crosses, and iniuries! But thou O blessed Saviour, who ecclipsed thy Ma­iesty with our mortall ignominies, and forsooke the vse of no Macedonian Empire, but of the vniversall world, to whom the vse as well as the dominion be­longed, for in the hemme of thy garmēt we finde writtē Apoc. 19. Rex Regum, and Dominus Dominantium, the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, that is, one of the basest graces and priviledges graunted to thine humanitie, (wherewith thy Divinitie as with a scarlet roabe was vayled) was the proprietie and dominion over the world: yet for all this ample inheritance over Iewe and Gentile, thou hadst not so much house to cover thy head as Foxes which hold their holes, and Birds that in fee-simple keepe their neasts. What iniuries O sweet Iesu have sinfull soules exhaled, breathed, nay darted out against thy sacred humanitie, frustrating it, for as much as in them layd, of all those noble effects, which thou deserved for vs by thy most bitter death and passion? and yet thou art so armed with humble mildnesse and compassion of heart, that thou by inter­nall favours and externall benefits cherishes them, as though thou wert nothing offended with them, but rather with opportune kindnesse, seemes to contend with their importune malice, with invincible patience exspecting their repentance. What wrongs do wee offer every moment thy soveraigne Divinitie, by trans­gressing thy commaundements, and thereby iniurying all the attributes of thy Divine Maiesty? And yet no sooner the prodigall childe sayeth peccavi, O Father, I have offended, but thou falls vpon him with kisses, [Page 228] and customarie favours, forgetting his former follies: no sooner the sinfull Magdalen batheth thy feete with mournefull teares, but thou bathes her breast with par­doning ioyes. Ah my God of all goodnes and mercy! what shall I preferre in thee, the benefits I have received from thy hands, or the not present revenging of iniu­ries thou hast received from my hart? for in them thou communicated thy goodnes conformably vnto thy will, here thou sustayned dishonour against thy will, that tended to glorifie thee, and perfit vs, this impug­neth thee, and destroyeth vs: iniuries were violent, be­nefits connaturall; iniuries issued from corruption, and aymed at destruction, benefits proceeded from mercie, and aymed at the reliefe of miserie, iniuries deserved in­famie, and benefits recognition & glory, wherein then didst thou shew more love & bounty, in conferring be­nefits, or pardoning iniuries? Questionles in pardoning iniuries for temporall favours, and spirituall graces (all except Christs incarnation, his merits and death) argue but a limited greatnes not infinit, because a gift amongst men is thought to proceed from a proportionable love vnto the gift, as for example, if a king give a 1000. pound we valew his love to the person who receiveth such a benefit in the degree of the quantity of the gift, and the more he giveth, we iudge the better he loveth, and the more the greatnes & wealth of the Prince is, the greater gift will ever seeme lesser. But in iniuries contrariwise the greatnes of the person offended mightily augmen­teth the excesse of the offence, and therefore in sinne, the person of God beeing of infinite Maiesty, the iniurie and offence almost is infinitely aggravated: for if a base peasant beate a Gentleman, the iniurie [Page 229] is greater then if he beat his fellow peasant, if he beat a Knight, the offence encreased, if a Baron, more exces­sive, if an Earle, it ascended, if a Duke, more enormious, if the Kings sonne, more trecherous, if the King him­selfe, more horrible, if the Emperor, more execrable, so that the like offence done to different persons in digni­tie, according to their higher degree and preeminence, is iudged more grievous and iniurious. The which if we extend to God, it wanteth all proportion and mea­sure: For as his Maiestie surpasseth all in greatnesse and dignitie, so the iniuries offered him are matchlesse, and incomparable with any kind of iniquitie.

The 14. Motive to Love, which is Hatred.

IT is admirable, how gealing frostes cause springs and welles, which in Sommer be exceeding cold, in the depth of Winter, to smoake with heate: for the vehe­mencie of the frost and coldnesse so glueth and enviro­neth the earth, that the hot vapours which are engen­dred within it, partly retyring from cold repercussions, partly stopped from passages (the pores of the ground being shut) vnite themselves againe with the water, and so cause warmenesse. We see by experience, that raging Mastives who if they were loosed one at another, they would fight till death, whereas in presence of the Bull or Beare they ioyne in friendship, and both, eyther by sensuall consent, or naturall instinct, vnite themselves in one to assault their common adversary.

The like wee finde among politike Potentates and Princes, who easily ioyne in league and amitie [Page 230] with them, who are in dissention or warres with their professed enemyes. And holy Writte recounteth a case not much different from this, of Herod and Pilate, who bare no great good will to our Saviour, and there­fore, of foes they fell into friendship. Wherefore in all vproares and commotions, riots and rebellions, all Na­tions can testifie, that hatred of subiects against supe­riors vniteth them in one, and causeth revolt against the State: as we reade of David, to whom when he fled from the face of Saul, resorted all they who were amuro animo, crossed, or afflicted, and he was their1. Reg. 22. Captayne. The reason of this may easily be rendred, for first resemblance as I sayd above causeth love, now all they which hate our enemyes resemble vs in that passion, and consequently are apt obiects to be be­loved. Againe, profit and commoditie cause love, in this case the vnion of haters against their common ene­mie is a re-inforcement of their strength, and an enab­ling of them more easily to subdue their adversaries. Finally, as every man iudgeth his owne cause good, and his enemyes bad, so he is easily induced to thinke the case alike of all them who are at like debate with his adversary, and therefore thinke as innocents they ought to be desended and protected. How shall thou and I ioyne [...]n hatred O God of concord? I may say a­gainst sinne we may linke ourselves in vnion, but alas sinne is a certaine nothing, and I love it too well, and therefore hardly can herein find occasion to love thee. Yet in truth if a man be resolute against sinne, there is no mortall enemy in the world who should more de­test and abhor his enemy, then he should sinne: for no­thing God ever hated or can hate but sinne, the causes, [Page 231] and effects thereof. For nothing can dishonor God but sinne, nor nothing really damnifie man but sinne. The The Devill mortally hateth (O most mercifull, bounti­full, and amiable God) thy sacred Maiesty, and also all mankind: but why hateth he thee? because thou hates his arrogant pride, envie, and malice, and therefore with condigne punishments torments him. But what can his hatefull poysonfull hart exhale out against thee, either to afflict thee with paine, molest thee with sorrow, abate thy blessednes, or diminish any way thy glory? He can as much prevaile against thy might, or as much impaire thy greatnes, as an Emets blast the mountaines of Hircan or Caucasus: and for that in effect he can do nothing, yet in the excessive malice of his affect, he will do all he can: wherefore, knowing that man is bound both by nature, grace, gratitude, vassaladge, and many other titles to love, honour, and blesse thee, and that by obe­dientlyGen. 3. 1. 1. Paral. 21. 1. Iob. 1. 2. Zach. 3. 1. Math. 4. 3 9. Luc. 8. 12. Act. 5. 3. 2. Cor. 4. 4. Ephes. 6. 11. 1. Thess 2 18. 1. Pet. 5. 8. Apoc. 2. 10. serving thee with humility and charity, he shall attayne vnto that happy felicitie, whereof he and his complices for their demerites are for ever deprived, therefore, as well to rob thee of thy due honour and service, as also to hinder him from the atchievement of his eternall happinesse, with all mayne and might, lyke a roaring Lion raging with yre, and famished with hunger of mans perdition, he rangeth abroad seeking whom he may devoure, how he can possibly impeach thy glory, or mans salvation, and therefore from the beginning of the world vntill this day, and to the worlds end, will ever continue the enmitie betwixt the seede of the woman, and the seducing serpent.

Ah my God! I know full well, that all the Devils in hell combined in one, howsoever they spit their spight, [Page 232] nay belch out their infernall gall against thee, yet all their forces and substances, natures and what else they have, if thou wouldst but say the word, in a moment would be consumed to nothing. But thine intent is, that we should fight with him, who with so many ad­vantages impugneth vs, (yet by the assistance of thy grace) with honour and reputation we should resist, expunge, and triumph victoriously over him; for that victory is more glorious, and that glory more illustri­ous where adversaryes are strongest, and our forces2. Cor. 12. 7. feeblest, Nam virtus in infirmitate perficitur: and Iobs vertue and thy grace were much more conspicuous in his botches and biles, in his dunghill and ashes, in theIob. 1. slouds of his losses, and inundation of his crosses, then when thou blessedst him with seaven thousand Sheepe, three thousand Camels, a multitude of Oxen and As­ses, when thou bestowedst vpon him an ample family, and a happy issue of Sonnes and Daughters; when thou garded, protected, and with thy fatherly provi­dence compassed himselfe, family, lands and livings on every side. But vnlesse I vnite my forces with thy grace, or rather thou with thy favorable assistance ioyne with me, alas I am as vnable to encounter such a potent adversary, as an Emet a Lion, a Pigmey a Giant, who reputeth yron as strawes, and brasse like rotten wood, who swalloweth slouds, and exspecteth that the whole River of Iordan should runne into his mouth. Yet ar­medIob. 41. 18. & 40. 18. Vide Mar [...]. 1. 26. 5. 2. & 9. 26. Luc. 8. 29. the forces of the Devill his craft. 1. Reg. 13. 19. 2. Esd. 4. 11. with thy protection, I feare not to prostrate him as David that mighty tower of flesh, the vncircum­cised Philistian, who boasted against the God of Israel. For in Deo meo transgr [...]diar murum, I will pierce even the stony walles by the power and force of my God: [Page 233] Si exurgant adverfum me castra non timebit cor meum: If whole Camps assault me, my heart will not feare, for I know O omnipotent God, that love thee as I should, thine almighty hand will vphold me in all dangers, and strengthen me in all assaults. Sweet God, enable me therefore with thy love, for the surest CastellGalat. 5. 6. 1. Pet. 5. 8. against the Devill is a faith working with charity, and the Devils bullets of battery against this fort are sugge­stions2. Cor. 12. 7. working with concupiscence or selfe-love and sensualitie.

The 15. and 16. Motives to Love, which are delivery from evill, and toleration of wrongs for vs.

GOodnes or true love principally by foure meanes are discovered: first, in bountifully giving gifts and bestowing benefits, as Alexander the great, who herein so excelled, that in all occasions he woon eternall fame, and incomparable love of all that delt with him, for his magnificent deportment in powring forth his treasures: and no doubt but that common verse more true then olde, was penned for this and many more such like ex­periences, to wit:

Si quis in hoc mundo, vult cunctis gratus haberi:
Det, capiat, quaerat [...] plurima, pauca, nihil.
He that to all, will heere, be gratefull thought:
Must give, accept, demaund! much, little, nought.

Secondly in not punishing or revenging iniuries whē they be offered: wherefore Saul vnderstanding, that Da­vid whom he so mightily persecuted, got him at such advantage, as that if it had pleased him to have revenged so many wrongs offered him by Saul, he might with as [Page 234] much facilitie have bereaved him in the cave of his life, as Saul had desire to dispoyle him of his lyfe, I say, after1 Reg. 24▪ & cap. 26. that Saul vnderstood the revengelesse heart of David, levavit vocem suam & slevit: hee wept for ioy, and apertly confessed his vertue, love & kindnes, and with­all, acknowledged his owne iniustice and, iniquitie.

Thirdly, in riddance and delivery from evill: when Iudith entred into Bethulia with Holophernes head, andIudith 1 [...]. by that meanes had redeemed her Countrie from the extreme danger of the Assyrian Hoast, which of that people had not occasion sufficiently offered, to love, ad­mire,Ester 7. &. 8. and adore her? After that Ester had procured the death of Hamman, and the reclaime of that bloody E­dict Assuerus at Hammans suggestion had sent abroad to be executed, thorow all the kingdoms of the Medes and Persians: what Iew had not there a most forcible mo­tive to love, and reverence that godly Queene, which so wisely, so couragiously, so effectually had saved their lives, and restored them to former libertie?

The same wee may say of Moses, who ridde the Is­raelites from the thraldom of Egypt: and of Iosua and Sampson, who divers times defended their people from the hostile furie and invasion of their enemies: and for this cause, such noble Generalls among the Romanes were intituled Patres Patriae, Fathers of the Countrie, because they as Fathers had defended it, and therefore deserved to be reputed and loved as Fathers.

Fourthly, in tollerating wrongs, crosses, disasters, af­flictions for vs. This Veritie we finde recorded in holy Writ: Maiorem charitatem nemo habet, quam vt ani­mam ponat quis pro amicis suis. No man can shew more love, then by powring out his life for his friend; if then [Page 235] any suffer wrongs for our cause, the neerer they ap­proch to death, the neerer they border vpon the most perfite remonstrance of Love; and consequently, are more forcible to cause or encrease kindnesse and affecti­on. When Saint Paule persecuted the Christians in the primitive Church, Christ for whose cause they endu­red such persecutions, accounted their ignominies, his iniuries, and therefore said, Saule, Saule, cur me perseque­ris? Saul, Saul, why dost thou persecute me? as though his servants harmes were his hurts. Who dishonoureth an Ambassadour, but his King reputeth the iniurie of­fered vnto his Person? who revileth a servant sent from his Lord, but his Master will thinke therein his honour stayned? wherefore as Christs Apostles and Disciples, Ambassadors or Servants wrongs redound to their dis­grace that sent them, and in very deed they ought so to esteeme them, as done to themselves, because they plead and negotiate the Senders causes and affaires, and in some sorte represent their persons; even so, whosoever handleth or dealeth in our behalfe, and thereby incur­reth any disgrace in honour, wealth, or body for vs, ought to be reputed our friend, in furthering our causes and negotiations, and have repayred all the dammages he suffered in our defence. Whosoever then suffereth for our cause, wee account as innocent, and to suffer wrongfully, therefore wee condole with him, and no doubt but love him: Secondly, such an one is violently bereaved of some good for our good, which cannot but argue an extraordinary good will towards vs, and consequently an apt motive to move vs to love. Thirdly if that Position of Aristotle be true, that we love themArist. 2. Rhe [...] cap. 4. which tell and confesse sincerely their faults and offen­ces: [Page 236] for as Thomas Aquinas noteth, such men shut the doore to all fiction and dissimulation, and therefore are thought vpright, and so deserve to be loved: Certainly they that suffer any dammage or danger of dammage for vs, exclude all fiction or dissimulation, and really proove they love vs affectually, and not superficially, and therefore deserve to be beloved reciprocally.

O my sweete Saviour and impassible God! who by Divine nature art incapable of dammage, griefe, sorrow or disgrace, of whom well we may say, Non accedet ad te malum, nec slagellum appropinquabit Tabernaculo tuo. Psal. 90. Evill shall never come neere thee, nor any scourge ap­proch to thy Tabernacle, Yet to ridde me and all man­kinde from evill, thou abased thy selfe, almost to the a­bysse of nothing, factus vermis & non homo, opprobrium hominum & abiectio plebis; A worme and not a man, the scorne of men, and the scomme of the people. Whether shal I say was▪ greater, and deserved more love, the evill thou hast endured for mee, or the evill from which thou hast delivered me? My payne from whence thou hast ridde mee, should have beene infinite in du­rance, and thy payne sustained for mee, was infinite in dignitie: my soule and body were most cruelly in hell to have beene tormented: and thy body and soule vp­on the crosse were rent asunder: the vgly fiendes were to imbrue their invisible clowches in my execrable soule, and the reprobate Iewes bathed their handes in thy blessed blood: I was to have dwelt in vtter darkenes for my manifolde offences; and the light of thine eyes were obscured, to satisfie for mine innumerable trans­gressions. If I consider the payne thou sustayned in re­garde of merite, woorth and valuation, as it farre excee­ded [Page 237] the demerit of our sinnes; so consequently, all those evilles, damages and torments which wee incurred by sinnes; and therefore were well compared by Saint Chrysostome to a sparke of fire cast into the immensive Ocean Sea: for as Saint Paul witnesseth, Vbi abundavit Chrysost in hom. ad Pop. delictum, superabundavit & gratia; Where sinne a­bounded, grace over-abounded. But otherwise if weeRom. 5. weigh the substance of thy paynes, we cannot compare them with those of the damned, because those tor­ments and thy loving dolors were in a farre different kinde, and therefore admit not well comparison: for those griefes are enforced, thine voluntary; those with remorce of acted offences, thine with conscience and perfit cognition of innocencie; those are tortures for e­villes, thine are riddance from evills. And truely they who would ascribe vnto thee the infernall dolors vpon the crosse or in the garden, in mine opinion, rather of­fend in ignorance, as not perfitly vnderstanding the de­formed nature of those vnexplicable torments, then vp­on malice attributing them vnto thee. For neyther didst thou sorrow for paynes, as afflictions deservedly inflicted for thy crimes, neyther didst thou nor couldest thou hate and abhorre God the inflictor of such horri­ble torments, neyther diddest thou nor couldest thou despaire of thy Fathers favours, who infinitely, vnces­santly, eternally, vndoubtedly loved and honored thee, and of whose love thou wast as sure as of thine owne e­ternall life. Therefore at last I hope such vnpure mindsThe Puritans errour. will amend their impure errours, and at last reclame their ignorant blasphemie. Notwithstanding this I will confesse, and cannot deny, but that thy paynes as well in the Garden, as vpon the Crosse, were as bitter in ve­hemency [Page 238] and intension, perhaps, as those of the dam­ned, because thy love no doubt was more intensive to­wardes Mankinde, then their love to themselves, therefore thy hatred was more vehement of our tres­passes, then their abomination of torments; for love of the good we wish, and hatred of the evill opposite thereunto weigh ever the same, and are ballanced alike; wherefore griefe necessarily ensuing compassion full ha­tred, counterpoyseth the vehement intension of Love. And as thy Love of man never had Paragon in vehe­mencie; so thy Dolors never had like in intension: and therefore truely the Prophet sayd in thy Person, Non est dolor sicut dolor meus: No dolors are comparable with mine. By this I inferre, O sweete Iesu! that thou ha­ving delivered me from such horrible paine, and for this Redemption suffered such excessive payne, I should love thee in condigne gratitude with correspondent af­fection to both paynes, but this Sphere is too large for my feeble activitie to reach: Thou therefore enlarge my heart, who aymedst specially in them both, at a pro­portionate gratefull Love and affectuall recognition of men.

The 17. Motive to Love, which consisteth specially in the manner of giving giftes, and bestowing favours.

IT is a common saying among spiritual men, that God respecteth not so much the quantitie, as the qualitie of our actions and good workes: the which protrite Axiome seemeth grounded vpon divers Scriptures. Specially the fact of that poore Woman, which cast her two mites in Gazaphilacium, which gave more, her need considered, then all they who bestowed large portions [Page 239] of their superfluous riches: because ordinarily, when we find great difficultie to doe well, and yet breake tho­row it, that argueth a more perfitte affection, and intier good will towards the partie for whose sake wee vnder­goe it. Agayne we have registred by the Apostle, that hilarem datorem diligit Deus: Our Lord loveth a plea­sant giver: that is, when a man imparteth his goods for2. Cor. 9. Gods honor and glory, God liketh him that effecteth it with alacritie and pleasantnesse: for some men you have, who bestow benefites vpon their friends, in such sort, as they seeme to give so much of their blood, for they make a shewe of a certayne loathing giving, which di­minisheth in great part the gift. Therefore in the recey­ving of a benefite, these circumstances may be conside­red, which follow every one of them, dignifying of it, and consequently casting a sparke of bountie from the Giver into the heart of the Receyver, to moove him to Love.

The first Circumstance. The greatnesse of the Giver.

THe dignitie or preeminence of any Principle enno­bleth and inhaunceth the Effect; so noble Parents produce noble Children; a meane worke proceeding from an excellent Workeman, winneth by relation to the Author, I know not what more credit and reputa­tion, then if it had proceeded from an Artificer of lesser account. In like manner a gift comming from a great Person, carieth ever a sente of a certaine greatnesse, and rellisheth ever eyther of Nobillity, Excellency, Supe­riority [Page 240] or all. Charles the fift in his long troublesome warres in Germanie, beeing almost ever pressed with want of money, and vnable to remunerate the Services of divers Dutch Captaines and Nobles whom hee had entertayned, after any great exployte perfourmed by them, to acquite their service in some sort (which Alex­ander would have repayed with Citties, or States) hee was accustomed in the open fielde in midst of his No­bles, to call such a Captaine or Coronel before him, and there in the presence of the whole Campe, take a gold cheine from about his owne necke, and put it about the neck of the other, & so embrace him, & thanke him, and with this honour, so solemnely circumstanced, by such a Person, as the Emperour, with such acknowledge­ment of his desert and valour, with the view of all the Armie, many of them esteemed this favour greater, then if in very deede hee had given them a Cittie: for they valued that cheyne more, then many bushels of the like gold, but not of like glory: for the onely Empe­rours Person, and the taking of it from his Necke, han­ged at it such a pretious Iewell, as in warlike conceits, a million of golde would not countervaile: and it was esteemed a sufficient testimony of honour, for a Marti­all man to vaunt of, all the dayes of his life. There be also divers reasons, why the dignity of the Giver, in­haunceth not a little the value of the gift. First, all gifts are signes of love and affection, and therefore as the love of a great Personage caeteris paribus, is much more to be prized then of a meaner, so the giftes issuing from such affections ought more to bee accounted. Second­ly, if the Giver be wise and discreete, it argueth he estee­meth vs to deserve such a benefite, the which reputati­on [Page 241] deserveth no small estimation. 3. If the Giver bee vertuous, it is to be thought, he specially regardeth ver­tue in bestowing his favours; therefore the gift shewing a testimony and warrant of his opinion, giveth forth a blazon of the receyvers honestie, which winneth credit and fame.

2. Circumstance. Strangenesse in the Giver.

GIftes given by friends, and such as we are well ac­quainted withall, in regard they be vsuall, be there­fore by some lesse esteemed, for friendship and familia­ritie enforce for most part, a mutuall communication a­mong friends of fortunes favours. But when the Giver is a meere stranger, and yet vpon kindnesse with alacrity bestoweth benefites vpon vs, it cannot but proceed, ey­ther from a most bountifull nature, kinde and loving, or else from a singular conceit they have of vs, or both, which both deserve love and reciprocall gratitude a­gaine. This kindnesse Abrahams servant and surueyor of his landes, desired to trie, in the Mayde hee was to bring home for his Masters Sonne Isaac, out of the landGen. 24. of Mesopotamia, that if she vnknowing him, after hee had demaunded her to drinke, shee had sayd she would not only shew him that favour, but also give his Camels to drinke likewise, that such a bountifull Woman was a fitte wife for his purpose; and as he prayed and wished, Rebecca performed.

The like courtesie shewed Moses in defending theExod. 2. Daughters of the Priest of Madian, from the [Page 242] rusticall proceedings of the Shepherds, who hindred them from watering their Sheep: and therefore was kindly & deservedly invited by their father to soiourne with him in the time of his flight from the face & fury of Pharao: wherefore it is held for great civility, and as a signe of a noble nature to entertayne strangers kindly; and contrarywise for extreme barbarousnesse to abuse or vse them currishly. And for this cause God com­manded the Iewes not to molest strangers, Advenam Exod. 22. non contristabis.

3. Circumstance. If the giver be our speciall friend.

GIfts may proceed from welwillers, and friends: these two differ much: for we may have many well-willers, but very few speciall friends: well-willers be generall friends as all them of our kindred, common good loving neighbours, with whom we live in dayly conversation, and passe our time, repaying one good turne with another. Speciall friends be such as we re­pute so deere vnto vs as our owne lives, whose councellAristot. 9 Mo­ral. N [...]coma. cap. 10. vult [...] inter paucos, & fre­quenter [...] cir­ca qu [...] [...] sunt, ex eius sententia, v [...]x cum [...] per­fectam [...]miciti­am inire pos­sunt. we vse, whose secrets we know, whose familiarity, trust, honesty, good will we preferre before all others: and such be very few, two, or three at the most, for more in­tire friendship cannot comport, because betwixt such friends must passe such intercourse of affaires, such com­munication, such comforts, compassions, congratulati­ons, advises, reprehensions, perswasions, disswasions, managings of negotiations, and in fine, such mutuall care and solicitude betwixt the one and the other, as if a man distract himselfe with many, he cannot possibly be [Page 243] complete friend to any. Wherefore Plutarke wittily and prudently commended that sentence of Pythagoras, Ne multis manum inijcias, Give not thy hand to many:Plutarch. lib. de multitudine a­micorum. his meaning was, that he should not betake himselfe to a multitude of friends. The gifts then of such familiar intire friends, ought much more to be esteemed, then if they came but from ordinarie weil-willers, as for ex­ample, no doubt but David prized more those gar­ments his beloved friend Ionathas gave him off his own1. Reg. 18. back, with other furniture of warre, above all the other apparell that ever he wore in his life. The reason why this circumstance qualifieth the gift, I take to be the cordiall amitie and friendship from which it procee­deth, and ever representeth to the eye of the receiver.

4. Circumstance. If the gift be exceeding deare vnto the giver.

NO doubt but that solemne sacrifice which God commanded Abraham to offer vp vnto him, which touched him so neere, and pierced his heart so to the quick of his only sonne Isaack, miraculously conceived the hope of posterity, & that seed whence-from his ex­spected Messias was to descend, was so much more ac­ceptable vnto God, how much more it was deare vnto Abraham. And it seemes that God, to shew how deare a gift he willed him to offer, particularized the dignifyingGen. 22. circumstances thereof, by saying: Tolle filium tuum, Take thy sonne, if he had commanded him to offer any of his servants, or of his kindred, it had not beene so much, but to deprive him of his sonne, was no small corrosive [Page 244] to a kind, loving, fatherly hart. Vnigenitum: If Abraham had had more sons, the precept had not bin so severe, to have lost one: but being his only heire, that aggravateth exceedingly the fact: Quem diligis: whom thou lovest: if Abraham had hated his Son, for his ill deportment, if he had bin a dissolute prodigal hare-brain, then the case had bin altred, but being vertuous, prudent, modest, & affec­tually beloved of his Parents, the commandement was bitter: Isaac; Mirth, or ioy, or laughter, not only because Sara laughed, when the Angel promised her, she should conceive in hir old age, but also for that children born of parents in their last yeers, are commonly more comfor­table and more delightfull vnto them, then those which were begotten in their youth. Offeres eum in holocaustum. Thou shalt offer him for a holocaust. What terrible blo­dy wordes were these in the cares of a father, to imbrue his hands in the blod of his only deare son? The precept was rigorous, the gift pretious, Abraham obsequious, & the kind commander in shew severe, but in effect propi­tious: yet all conclude, that the excessive dearenes of the gift vnto the Giver, exceedingly augmented the value therof; the poore widow of Sarepta, who in the extreme darth of the country had nothing to relieve hirself & hi [...] son, but a little slowre in a pot, & a little oile in a bottle, yet in regard she so willingly imparted part of that litle to Elias the prophet, it semed God wold not let that flo­wer3. Reg. 17. & oile diminish, vntil such time as the sterility was past. The like we may say of that other sily Soule, which of her necessary sustenance cast 2. mites into the com­mon chest of the temple, & for that cause by Christ him selfe, was reputed the liberallest benefactor to that chur­che, because the necessity of the gift declared the mag­nisicency of hir mind. And generally where a person de­priveth [Page 245] himselfe of any thing, which he accounteth and prizeth much, there cannot be but great love and affection, for therein he overcommeth great difficultie, which men commonly proove in the accomplishment of such difficill effects: and moreover, a man by spoy­ling himselfe, of that is very deare vnto him, sheweth e­vidently, that his friend is much more dearer, for whose cause he doth willingly want it.

5. Circumstance. The greatnesse of the Gift in it selfe.

THe fuller Fountaine causeth a greater Spring: the better Plant the more pretious Fruite: the fatter Soile the more plentiful Harvest: and the kinder Heart the greater Gifts. Among speciall and intier friendes, Gifts admitte not degrees of greater or lesser, because such have all their goods and habilities, one at the becke and least intimation of an other: whereupon grew that solemne sentence, Amicorum omnia sunt communia. But this Circumstance holdeth among our common friends and generall wel-willers, whose affections by little and little discover themselves vnto vs: and this rule is not to be esteemed one of the worst, that greatnesse of gifts argueth greatnesse of good will: for although some few prodigall persons lavish forth their substances for a vaine proiect and estimation to be reputed liberall, bountifull, and despisers of Fortunes favours: yet when evidently we are not certayne our Well-willer is such a braine-sick person, right Reason teacheth vs to inferre out of the greater gift the greater good will: and con­sequently [Page 246] to deserve a correspondence of a semblable affection.

Some gifts are so exceeding in value and so vnpri­zable, that a man is never able perfitly to recompence them, as for example, yong Toby conferring with his old father what reward they should bestow vpon the Angell Raphael, who had guided and protected him inToby. 12. all his iourney, said thus vnto him. ‘What reward shall we give him? or what thing worthie of his benefits? he carried me, and brought me back againe in health: he received the money of Gabelus: he procured me a Wife, and delivered her of the Devill, he comforted her parents, he hindred the Fish from devouring me, he hath caused you see the light of heaven, and thus hath he replenished vs with all good things. What condignely may we for all these bestow vpon him? But I beseech you father to request him, if perhaps he will vouchsafe to accept the one halfe of all these ri­ches we have brought.’ Thus the gratefull Toby ac­knowledged the Angels gifts greater, then he could ever satisfie: howbeit in recognition of his good will, he offered halfe he had, whereby with the greatnes of the remuneration, he intended to declare vnto the Angell the greatnesse of his affection.

It is a common received principle as well among prophane philosophers, as sacred writers, that the gifts of God, of nature and grace; the gifts of parents, of body and life; the gifts of instructors in learning and manners are vnvaluable, and inecompensable: for as vertue, learning, body, life, soule, grace, farre surpasse in degree and perfection all other riches and treasures whatsoever, so all men in respect of such persons must [Page 247] for ever hold themselves obliged, and never out of debt: because the vertue of gratitude is such, that a man should ever recompense the benefit received like the earth, which receiveth one graine of [...]lieate, and yeeldeth therefore twenty and more so benefits should ever be repayed with interest, for if we returne lesse we remayne in debt, if equall we seeme to exchange, and rather follow the law of iustice and equalitie then of friendship and amitie: therefore by gratitude we ever ought to exceed the gift in value, which we receive, wherein equalitie releeseth recompense, and the excesse an emulous superioritie in good will.

Zuxis a famous Painter so prized his Pictures, that he gave them all away, and never would sell any, be­cause he thought them so pretious, as no gold could countervayle them. Some others I have knowne who esteemed no lesse their literall labours, because they were of-springs of wit, distilled from the purest spirits in their braines, the which therewith they had aboun­dantly consumed, and therefore not to be bought with any treasure: besides, bookes divulged are generall gifts, and common communications of wisdom, the which ought so much more to be esteemed, how much wisdome surpasseth all worldly wealth: bonum quo com­munius eo melius, and every good, the commoner, the better: for it were malitious perversitie, to withhold from others a good thing profitable to many, without our impeachment and hindrance: wherefore I cannot but condemne that repining indignation of Alexan­der the great, who vnderstanding that Aristotle his in­ [...]or had divulged publiquely his booke of Meta­physicks which he had taught him privatly, wrote vnto [Page 248] him in anger, that in so doing he had left him nothing peculiar, whereby he might excell all others in know­ledge and science, as though it grieved him that any man should be wise except himselfe. With how much more reason and charity desired Moses, that all the people might prophetize, Quis tribuat vt omnis populus prophe­tet, [...]. 11. 29. & det eis dominus spiritum suum?

6. Circumstance. If the gift tended to our great good or riddance from some great evill.

A Showre of rayne after a long drought, is more worth, then ten showers another time: Money lent a Merchant falling bankerout to vphold his credit, may be accounted so much money given. Those loaves of bread and that sword Achimelech gave David in his flight from the face of Saul, were questionles in his pe­nurie,1. Reg. 22. ten times more gratefull and acceptable, then in his abundance. Therefore it is great prudence & friend­ly policy to reserve gifts, and helps for men till great wants, because they prize a little more then, then much another time. And withall it deserveth consideration, that in such cases, not only the affection wherewith we bestow the benefit vpon him, but also the good which ensueth, and the evill which he eschueth, and all such desiderable consequent effects, are thought intended wished, and to proceed from that favour we shew in such a case, so opportunely, and in such extremity.

7. Circumstance. If it be given with alacritie.

I Have received some gifts of friends, given with such a promptnes, alacritie, & shew of affection, as in very [Page 249] truth it seemed vno me, that the very manner of giving doubled the gift. When the Angels came to Abraham in the vale of Mambre, he invited them to dinner withGen. 1 [...]. such alacritie, so civilly and affectuously, as in very deed they had seemed to have vsed him discourteously if they had refused his importune courtesie. ‘1 If you fa­vour me, 2 passe not your servant, 3 I will bring a little water to wash your feet, 4 and rest vnder the tree: 5 I will bring you some bread, 6 and you shal [...] your harts, 7 and then you shall depart: 8 therfore you came this way: the Angels accepted his invitation, 9 and the good old man ranne presently and brought the tende­rest and best calfe he had, and caused one of his servants to kill him, 10 & Sara in as great haste moulded paste to make thē ember-cakes: 11 when all was done Abraham stood & served while they sat downe.’ All these circum­stances shew the great desier that Abraham had to enter­taine those strangers. I have seene some men so ready & prompt to grant what was requested them, that they would have moved almost an indurat hart to have loved them, for no sooner you had represented your desier vnto them, but presently you should have had such a re­solute answere as possibly you could have exspected in your heart, from the most deare friend you had in the world. Mary sir with all my heart, and I give you a thousand thanks you would shew me such a favour, as to demaund such a thing at my hand: this is not suffici­ent, will you more, better? &c. and this they did not ceremoniously, but really, the face, hand, gestures, and deeds, all sounded the same.

8. Circumstance. If it were given by our enemies.

THe law of Christianitie correcteth the errours of corrupted Nature, and directeth men assisted by Gods grace, to love their enemies, and shew good will to them, who beare ill will to vs. Herein wee are com­maunded to imitate our heavenly Father, who stayeth not the beams of his Sun from lightning & heating his most obstinate enemies, as Pagans, Iewes, Turkes, he­retikes and obstinate sinners: nor with-holdeth the sweet showres of rayne from watering, suppling & nou­rishing their landes and possessions, yea, & if we see our enemies Oxe or Asse erring, he enacted a strict precept to returne them to their Master: and if he were hungry,Exod. 23. 4. hee commanded vs to feede him; Si esnrierit inimicus tuus ciba illum: si sitierit, da illi aquam bibere, prunas enim Proverb. 25. 21 congregabis super caput eius, & Dominus reddet tibi. Here hee giveth a singular good reason why this Circum­stance of enmitie encreaseth the value of the gift and most effectually mooveth to love: for, bestowing bene­fites vpon our enemies, we heape burning coales vpon their heads, able to consume and drie to dust all the ma­lignitie of malicious enmitie: for our Enemies recey­ving favours, where they expected furies, and reaping benedictions and giftes, where they expected maledi­ctions and hurts, cannot but be mollified, and well per­ceive that charitie lodgeth where they supposed malice lurked, and in lieu of revenge, they cannot but returne love: for as benefites at enemies hands were not deser­ved, so being bestowed they deserve to be loved.

9. Circumstance. If it were granted without suite or request, of the Givers owne accord.

IT is a principle of Statelinesse, among great Persona­ges, to vse long delayes in granting Suiters their re­questes: if it be to bestow some gift, in delaying, they thinke men more depend vpon them, and the difficulty of obtayning will make them esteeme it more. If in pardoning some offence, then by delay of graunting, they cause the offenders in the meane time to conceive thereby the foulenesse of their faults, and in others, thePost haee autem dixit [...]ntra se: etsi Deum non timeo, nec ho­minem revere­or, tamen quia molesta est mihi haec Vidua, vin­dicabo illam, ne in norissimé veniens sugillet me. Luc. ca. 18. Et si ille perse­veraverit pul­sans, dico vobis, & si non dabit illi, s [...]rgens eo quod amicus eius sit, [...]r pter importitatem tamen e [...]us sur­get, & dabit [...] illi quotquot habet necessa­rios. Luc. 11. rigorous severitie held in pardoning, will strike a terror of offending. But howsoever it bee, long delayes, and many suites vilifie the giftes in both: for charè emitur, quod precibus emitur, it is bought dearely, which is pur­chased with long prayers. For importunitie of prayers will wring out favours almost perforce, because a man to be rid of such molestations and clamorous requests, had rather graunt a suite against his will, then endure such importune petitions: the which our Saviour de­clareth by the example of the wicked Iudge, who al­though he neither feared God, nor respected man, yet the poore widdowes importune prayers enforced him to condiscend to her suite. And questionlesse, it cannot be denyed, but that when a person hath gotten his de­sire, after many petitions, suites and supplications, he e­steemeth it more then halfe bought. Wherefore those Magistrates and Princes which graunt favours and give offices to persons of desert without suite or supplicati­on, [Page 252] are greatly to be commended: for certainely those that sue for temporall offices or spirituall dignities, by gifts, friends, or other meanes made by their owne pro­curement, should ever be esteemed more vnfit caeteris pa­ribus then they who live quietly, and hunt not after such dangerous places, for it seemeth he conceaveth not wel, what charge a Superiour taketh vpon him, and what good partes and sound vertues such an office requireth, which laboureth so extremely to be invested into such a place and dignitie. For albeit Qui Episcopatum desiderat, bonum opus desiderat, yet I will not say, but most non bene desiderant: for I feare, such gapers for preferment, ayme rather at the gayne, then the payne; and love better the fleece then the flocke.

10. Circumstance. If the Person by giving was endangered or endammaged.

FAvours, benefites, gifts, are often confounded, and yet in deed in rigour of speech, they be not all one. If a Prince shew a kinde countenance towards any of his Courtiers, or graceth him with any kinde gesture in remonstrance of good will, every one will esteeme these favours, but not account properly eyther benefites or gifts. If a man be assaulted by theeves, and stand in dan­ger of death, if casually a passenger succour him, and so save his life, well we may say, praestitit illi beneficium, hee did him a pleasure, or benefit, but not that he gave him a gift. For Donatio, whencefrom proceedeth Donum, is libera translatio iuris, dominij: possessionis, vsus, vel vsus­fructus [Page 253] alicuius rei in aliquem. Giving is a free translation of the right or title, of dominion, possession, vse, or fructification of any thing to any man. Sometime it happeneth, that the gift bringeth with it, not onely the title of some right, but also it serveth vs presently to rid vs from some evill, as was sayd above in the 6. Circum­stance; and dayly experience teacheth, that before men fall to extreme distresse of povertie, discredite, impri­sonment &c. good friendes succour and relieve them with money; in such extremities the money is a gift and a benefite, because it conferreth some good, and delive­reth from some evill. Otherwhiles it chanceth, that the Giver, to doe vs good, depriveth, not onely himselfe of the gift he giveth, but thereby he incurreth some great perill, danger, or evill. As befell Achimelech, who re­lieved1. Reg. 22. David in his passage from Saul, for which chari­table courtesie, he incurred the Kings disgrace, and af­terwards lost his life. And in this Circumstance enter many and various degrees of danger and dammage, for the greater perill, or grievouser evill incurred by theQui negligit damnum prop­ter amicum iustus est. Proverb. 12. gift, encrease the goodnesse and valuation of the gift, and argue a greater good will: and there ought pre­cisely to bee examined and exactly considered: for as this case occurreth dayly, so it ought to bee weighed marvailous circumspectly.

4. Circumstances more.

VNto the former Circumstances, we may for better distinction & fuller comprehension of the matter, adde 4. more. The first is, Vehemency of affection, which appertaineth to the maner of giving, & may be [Page 254] reduced to the 7. Circumstance of Alacritie: yet in very deed these two differ: for divers times wee give things speedily, and quickly, because wee esteeme them not much, or for some interest, or other respect; albeit with no great affection: yet the way to wade into mens heartes, and discover whether they bestow their bene­fites vpon vs, with such intire and full affections or no, may bee these. First alacritie in giving is a good signe. 2. If in the giving we perceive the giver much presseth himselfe. 3. If the gift be great in it selfe. 4. If some danger be imminent vnto the giver for such a gift. 5. If the giver be our intire friend. 6. If our capitall enemie, for therein we may thinke, he by a vehement charitable good will, overcommeth himselfe.

The second is, if the gift be common to many; as if a Prince bring a Conduit of most excellent water into the Centre of a Cittie. If a Noble man erect a great Hospitall for the poore, blind, lame, and impotent. If a devout Cittizen give all he hath to builde a Church, Bridge, or such like charitable workes, these benefites, as they are extended to many, so they are more worthie in this respect, then such as are communicated to few.

The third is, if in giving gifts among a multitude of equall desert, one be singled from the rest, vpon whom it is bestowed, for in such a case, affection signiorizeth, and love maketh election, because when in the recey­vers there is none or small difference in merite, then the determination resteth vpon the givers good will, which then may best be declared, when among many, special­ly one is severed.

The last is lacke of interest, for such gifts as are vn­spotted with any blemish of private profitte, warrant vs▪ [Page 255] of a sincere affection: but how may we know, when gi­vers ayme rather at vtilitie then amitie? first, if wee be well acquainted with their prowling, shifting, crafty, vndermining nature, we may assure our selves, that that flame is the effect of sea-coales, which carrieth ever more smoake of selfe-love, then fire of refined good will. 2. If apertly by some circumstance of speech or request he maketh, we see evidently some commoditie conioyned, as for example, in all suiters presentes, a man of a bad scent may easily feele a smell of profit, which perfumeth those gifts. 3. If a mean man bestow a great gift vpon one in authoritie, which hath no neede of it, such a token for most part telleth his masters errand, to wit, that such a present must prepare the way for some future favour: and this rule we are to thinke holdeth so much the surer, when the giver is in some want and ne­cessitie. 4. If the customary vse of such giftes require some interest, as commonly poore mens New-yeere giftes, require better recompensations then they bring.

Certaine Corollaries deducted out of the precedent Discourse of the Motives to Love.

THe first Corollarie concerneth the love of God, the which in giving vs the second Person in Trinitie, to be our Saviour and Redeemer, hath almost observed all these Circumstances of giftes in a most emminent de­gree, as, if I would enlarge this Chapter, I could make most manifest: but every discreet learned Divine, with­out much labour, by appropriating onely these generall [Page 256] considerations to those speciall meditations, may per­forme it by himselfe.

The second Corollarie, touching the Motives of Love, which are in number seventeene, for memories sake we may reduce to 3. heads. For love is an operation of the Wil; the Wil affecteth nothing but canded with Goodnesse; Goodnesse generally is divided into three kindes, Honestie, Vtilitie, Delightfulnesse, but in re­gard that things profitable are esteemed good or badde, honest or vnhonest in respect of the end whereat they ayme, (for they be alwayes meanes, and levell at some ende) therefore I thought good to obliterate that second member, and in lieu thereof, insert conveniency or agreeablenesse to Nature: for such things we love for themselves, and as it were in them stay our affections, without relation to any other particular proiect.

Goodnes the obiect of our will, is the perfection or ap­petibilitie of every thing reall or appa­rant; and is divided into

  • 1. Honest: which is the ob­iect of vertue, and consisteth in conformitie to Reason: comprehending these mo­tives to Love.
    • 2 Excellencie—in
      • Prudence.
      • Learning.
      • Fortitude.
      • Magnanimitie.
      • Temperance.
      • Iustice, &c.
    • 3 Bountifulnesse.
    • 4 Condonation of iniuries.
    • 5 Toleration of wrongs.
    • 6 Riddance from evill.
    • 7 The manner of giving gifts.
  • 8. Convenient to nature, that is, agreeable to nature for the conservation therof, eyther in being, perfection, or preservation of the kinde, and includeth these motives to Love.
    • 9 Parentage.
    • 10 Beneficence.
    • 11 Necessitie.
    • 12 A speciall kinde of hatred causing vnion.
  • 13. Delightful, that is, a cer­taine kinde of goodnes poli­shed with pleasure: or wher­in pleasure specially appear­eth, and containeth these motives to Love.
    • 14 Beautie.
    • 15 Profit—of
      • Soule
      • Body
      • Fortune.
    • 16 Resemblance—in
      • Nature
      • Affection
      • Iudgement
      • Exercise.
    • 17 Love of
      • Benevolence
      • cōcupiscēce

I am not ignorant that the immensity of mans will may chop and change these motives of love in diverse manners: for if we releeve often poore mens miseries for vaine-glory, we pervert the vertue of mercy; if some fast for hypocrisie, they abuse the virtue of temperance; if some pray with pride and contempt, as the arrogant Pharisee, they stayne the vertue of religion: and que­stionles, any wicked man may love him that easily con­doneth iniuries, not for honesty and vertue, but thereby to prevayle more against him, and crow more insolent­ly over him, to coosin him the more boldely, and de­ceyve him without punishment. Likewise, though beu­ty be placed among the obiects of Delight, yet it may be affected for honesty; and so I say of almost all the rest. But heere I consider the first aspect, and connatu­rall shew that all these obiects carry with them, and how they first enter into a mans affection, and are apt to moove: and in this sense I doubt not but theyr seates are right, and in consideration thereof, I have reduced them to these heades.

The third Corollary. It may easily be perceyved in every one of these motives, how much more is insinu­ated then is sette downe, and a good Scholler with a flight meditation, may by discourse apply these gene­ralities to particular matters, for the motive of pleasure or profite may be minced into many partes, and in e­very one a number of particular reasons, found out apt to induce the perswasion of the same passion, and so I, say of the rest. Much more I could have added to every one, but then the Treatise woulde have growne too great, wherefore I iudged it sufficient to touch the tops of generall perswasions to stirre vp love, intending ther­by [Page 259] [...] [Page 258] [...] [Page 259] by to represent occasions to wise men of discourse: for a slender insinuation will content a ripe apprehension, and affoorde matter enough to a sound iudgement. It might have passed a great way further, and have expli­cated the supreame perfections in God, all which were able to moove a mans heart, much more then these we have delivered, because as they infinitly surpasse all here we feele, see, imagine or vnderstand; even so they would aboundantly stirre vp our affections to admire, love and adore him: yet also them I thought good to omitte as not so proper to our present intent; neverthelesse I cannot ore-slip some rude delineaments therof, therby opening the way to pregnant wits of pregnant matter.

The fourth Corollary appertayneth vnto the cir­cumstances of imparting giftes or bestowing benefites. wherein it is to be noted for memorie sake, that we may consider foure things in the giving of a gift, all necessa­ry, and all belonging to our purpose, as in the subscri­bed Table shall plainely appeare.

In bestowing a gift we may consider the

  • Giver and his
    • 1 Greatnesse.
    • 2 Strangenesse.
    • 3 Friendship
    • 4 Enmirie.
    • 5 His danger and dammage.
  • Gift
    • 6 If exceeding great in it selfe.
    • 7 If marvellous deare to the Giver.
    • 8 If common to many.
  • Receiver
    • 9 If it tend to his great good, or rid­dance from some great evill.
    • 10 If in giving he be singled from the rest
  • Manner of gi­ving.
    • 11 If with alacritie.
    • 12 If without sute or request.
    • 13 If with vehement affection.
    • 14 If without interest.

The fift Corollarie respecteth the practise of the aforesayd Motives, the which may be vsed after this manner. First I suppose a man that intendeth to move passions, ought to have tyme and space to prepare himselfe for cursorie perswasions; for extemporall in­ventions seldome make any deepe impressions, be­cause as in such cases the inducements are not well examined, nor the manner of delivery premedita­ted, so the poynt in question cannot be so substan­tially grounded and forciblely perswaded, as if Arte in manner and matter had co-operated with Nature. Secondly, presupposed then a man have leysure to enrich his discourse, after one hath perused and well vnderstood the precedent Motives, he should glaunce over these Tables, and either in his owne meditation, or in perusing some short treatise of his matter of Love to be perswaded, reduce what he readeth to these heads set downe. As for example, if he exhort Sub­iects to love their Countrie, Students to love learning, Souldiours to love Martiall Discipline: Men to love theyr Wives: Children to love theyr Parents: Wo­men to love Modestie, in all these and such lyke, a little labour conioyned with this help will minister abundance of matter to stuffe an Oration, or Panege­ricall perswasion.

Meanes or Motives to moove Hatred, Detestation, Feare, and Ire.

THe Philosophers vniversally define, that Contrario­rum est eadem disciplina: Contraries are taught in like manner: and contrariorum contraria est ratio; con­traries have contrary reasons: so to our purpose with great facilitie, we may now declare what Motives stirre vp Hatred by assuming the contraries to Love: for ex­ample, if Love it selfe be a Motive to Love, then Hatred contrariwise is a Motive to Hatred: If resemblance in nature, affection, iudgement and exercise cause vni­on and love; certainely, dissimilitude in nature, diffe­rence in iudgement, disparity in affections, diversity or opposition in exercise, cannot but breed dissention and hatred. Wherefore hee that perfitly vnderstandeth the former Treatise of the Motives to Love, and of him­selfe can si [...]t out their contraries▪ hath a sufficient Pano­plie and Treasorie of Reasons to stirre vp Hatred.

Furthermore, for better intelligence it is to be consi­dered, that Divines and morall Philosophers distinguish two sorts of Hatred, the one they call Odium abomina­tionis; Hatred of abomination: the other, Odium ini­micitiae, that is, Hatred of enmitie. For as in Love, we affect the Person and wish him well; so in Hatred of en­miti [...], we detest the Person and wish him evill: as, if I love my friend, I wish him health, wealth and prosperi­tie: If the Iudge hate the theese, hee wisheth him the gallowes: But in this wee differ, that I love my friend, and health also, as good for my friend, so that my love is complete and intire: but the Iudge abhorreth the [Page 262] theefe, and loveth the gallowes, as a due punishment and deserved evil for the theefe. Contrariwise, as in ha­tred of enmitie, the person stayned with vice, mooveth me to detest him and wish him evill, so in hatred of abo­mination, for the love I beare any person, I hate all evils which may befall him: for example, a man loveth his child, and therefore abhorreth death as evil of the child; a iust man loveth God, and therefore detesteth sinne, as an iniurie done to God; a man loveth his owne health, and therefore hateth diseases, or what else may crosse his health. So that here we have three things: hatred of e­vill, in respect of the person we love: love of evill, in re­spect of the person wee hate: hatred and love com­bined in one respect of perfite enmitie and complete hatred.

Besides, as love levelleth at goodnesse, without desi­ring or hoping for it, and onely taketh a good liking and complacence therein: so desire passeth further, and wi­sheth the enioying thereof, albeit such a wish medleth not with hope of obtayning it; for many wish Mines of golde, States and Kingdomes, which they never ex­spect, nor hope to possesse: Hope addeth expectation, for perceyving some probable possibility of purchace, she standeth wayting how to come by it. For example, Cardinall Wolsey in his yonger yeeres perhaps loved, and desired the degree of a Cardinall, but yet being so farre from it, he had small reason to expect it, but after he was entertained of the King, and imployed in affaires for the State, then he got ground for expectation, and so fell into the passion of Hope. On the other side, hatred first detesteth the evill in it selfe, either of enmitie or abomi­nation, as wicked men, death, dishonor, &c. without [Page 263] relation to vs or our friends. Detestation fuga or flight abhorreth them as hurtfull to vs or our friends: but as yet they beeing afarre off, and not very likely to befall, entereth not into the passion of Feare, the which then stirreth, when danger approcheth. Ire proceedeth from some iniurie offered, and therefore hateth the inflictor, and by all meanes possible seeketh revenge. Wherefore Ire, Feare, Flight, including every one of them a cer­tayne sort or spice of Hatred, what generally can be said of it, will serve for all them in particular; howbeit, some speciall considerations we will set downe in speciall for their peculiar Motion.

Particular Motives to Hatred of Enmitie.

ALthough, as I sayd above, the Motives to Love contraried, be good meanes to perswade Hatred: yet for that, as Philosophers say, Bonum ex integra causa consistit, malum ex quolibet defectu: Goodnesse cannot consist without the integrity of all partes, evill may and ordinarily doth happen vpon every defect: that a man bee in health, it is necessary every humour hold his iust temper and proportion; that a man be sicke, it is enough that one humour onely exceede: that an harmony of Musicke be good, all partes must keepe tune, time, and apt concordance; that it be badde, one iarring voyce will disconsort all: in like manner, that a man be honest and good, is required that hee be endued with all Ver­tues: to be nought or ba [...]e▪ it is sufficient he be a drun­kard, a theefe, a whoremas [...] ▪ an vsurer, or infected with any one vice, &c. Wherefore honest love supposing a man to be vertuous absolutely, thereupon groundeth [Page 264] most effects of kindnesse, and therefore the contrarie­ties thereof will not so aptly moove hatred, as some o­ther particular considerations: for example, wee deter­mined, that tolleration of wrongs, mooveth a man to love: the contrary of this will hardly stirre vp hatred, for if wee grant, that him we hate refused to suffer any wrongs for vs, but avoyded them with mayne & might, we may well conclude, he doth not greatly love vs, but violently we should inferre therefore, that hee deserved hatred; and so I say of some others, therefore for more perspicuity, and that wee may find out more vrgent ar­guments to induce men to hatred, the case is to be sif­ted a little more narrowly. In hatred of enmitie we de­test the person, as stayned with evill, sinne, vice, or wic­kednes, for which we wish him iustly punished: where­fore all these reasons which induce vs to conceive the greatnesse of his offence, or the indignitie of the per­son, or ill demeanour of his life towards God, in him­selfe or his neighbour, all these aboundantly will excite hatred against him. Sometimes occasion wil be offered to moove the passion of hatred against some particular person, as to inveigh against a Traytour, or publike ene­mie to the State or our selves: otherwhiles against a whole State, as Turkes, Iewes, Pagans, Heretikes, Re­belles against a Common-wealth, or some Kingdome which warreth with vs: and as these evilles are diffe­rent, so by divers meanes we must perswade our audi­tors or friends to hate them.

A private person may be brought into contempt and hatred by Motives gathered from these three Princi­ples. His Ingresse into this world: His Progresse of life: His Egresse or death.

His Ingresse. § 1.

1 IF his Parents were base, wicked, or infected with any notorious vice; if deformed in body, or mar­ked by any monstruositie of Nature.

2 If the manner of his begetting was vnlawfull, as Bastardy, and herein be divers degrees of fornication, a­dulterie, incest, sacrilege.

3 If he were born at such a time as the influence of the heavens had some extraordinary action in the tempring of his body, as dog▪ daies: or at what time his father was in prison for some demerit: or in time of great plagues or diseases, or commotion in the common-weale.

4 If he were borne in a bad place; as a wicked Coun­try, among vitious people: if in a City treacherously in­clined, or hath bin branded with any notorious vice, or persons infamous.

5 If his mother in her childing died, or was tormēted in bringing him into the world, with more vehement pangues, then women commonly suffer: or if before his birth, his good father dyed, as though God would not vouchsafe to let the wicked child behold his fathers face▪ or presently after hee was borne, wherein God shewed him a most speciall grace, to take him away be­time, lest his wicked sonne had caried his grey hayres with sorow to his grave.

6 If in the childish yeeres he accustomed to steale, lie, sweare, or were addicted to any vice, which shewed the first buddes of a blasted body, and corrupted soule.

But some will obiect, as I have heard divers, what fault have I if my Parents bee vicious and base? And what commendation is thine, if thy parents bee vertu­ous and noble? and yet, who is hee, that had not [Page 266] rather have beene borne of vertuous then vicious, noble then ignoble Progenitors? That is no fault but a staine, this no vertue but an ornament: men know full well, that waters, which runne thorow stinking soyles, carrie an vnsavory smell: and that winds and vapours drawne from infected places, are plaguie messengers to many Countries: in like manner, Parents naturall propensi­ons to wickednesse, imprint for most part in their chil­dren, a certaine resemblance: wherefore as these exter­nall respects be not invincible arguments to convince a vitious nature, or a corrupted soule: so when in the pro­gresse of life, we infallibly discover an exorbitant badde carriage and brutish demeanour, then we may well in­ferre, that the first staines and infections were ominous presages of future malice: as if Nature had foreseene what an infamous guest was to lodge in that body, and therefore prepared a lodging correspondent: Adam had a Caine, Abraham an Ismael, Isaac an Esau, Iacob a Dan, David an Absolon, and many godly Parents, vn­godly children, which argueth manifestly, that neither good nature in Parents, (for what bodies could bee more perfit then those of Adam and Heua, wholy fra­med by Gods owne handes, and consequently could have no defect?) nor vertuous example, nor provident instructions can suffice to withdraw a man from wic­kednesse, if his wicked will intendeth to follow it.

What, have not many Bastards prooved well? Yes, but more have prooved ill: and consequently wee may presume they will become rather vitious then vertuous; for as the Cannon law well noteth, such children areCa. sigens d. 56 not brought vp with like care and vigilance of their Pa­rents as other legitimate: and commonly such spu­rious [Page 267] ympes follow the steppes of their bad parents.

His Progresse. § 2.

THe persons whome wee intend to moove to hatredThat vice should most be amplified which the au­ditors most detest. ought to be considered well before wee represent vnto them the filthinesse of the mans vice for which we intend to make him odious vnto them: for such is the corruption of some companies, as great sinnes with them are little accounted: for example, he that would disgrace a souldier in the Campe, by vehemently exag­gerating the mans fornication, should little prevayle: or a Merchant among Merchants for vsury, in taking ten in the hundred: or drunkennesse among the Dutch men: and such like offences before, such persons, who eyther will boast of them, or defend them, or at least extenuate the deformity of them: wherefore in every company that vice specially must bee noted, which a­mong these men is most detested, as treachery and co­wardlinesse among souldiers, bloud and cruelty among Citizens, all sortes of heynous offences among grave, sober, iudicious, and vertuous hearers.

As in every vertue there is a lowe degree, a meane,Intension of vice. and an excellent: for there be beginners, goers forward and perfite, incipientes, proficientes, & perfecti. Likewise in every vertue there is a supreame excellency, rare, sin­gular, and admirable; in temperance virginity, in forti­tude apert perilles of death, in prudence present resolu­tions, deepe councell in affaires of greatest importance, as manage of States, and governement of Kingdomes. In iustice neyther to spare friend, father, mother, nor childe, who offend and transgresse the Lawes. In mag­nificence [Page 268] to dispend great treasures readily for the ho­nour of God, and generall good of the realme. In mer­cy easily to pardon iniuries against our owne persons. As, I say, in every vertue there are found these degrees and eminent perfections, so in vices and offences there appeare varieties of excesses in the same sinne; as in theft he that robbeth a rich man, and taketh fourty shillings from him, can not be compared to him that stealeth a kowe from a poore man, wherewyth hee sustayned his wife and whole family, wherefore the enormity of the sinne ought greatly to bee weyghed. Agayne, in vice some so farre exceede, as they passe the common course of vitious persons, and arrive at a certayne ferall or sa­vageSavagenesse or feral [...]tie. brutishnesse, delighting in nothing but wicked­nesse, as beastly pleasures, violent extortions, cruel but­cheries, and such like barbarous beastlinesse, whereby they make shew to have lost all reason and humanity, and onely follow the fury of every inordinate Passion.

Moreover it is to be considered, that as every vice hath her intension or vehemency in malice and wicked­nesse, so she hath an extension and various kinde of de­formities: for example, theft hath vsury, coosonage, pilferings, burglaries, robberies: murther hath woun­dings, lamings, man-slaughters, wilfull-murthers: so in intemperance, gluttony, &c. In our present case, these will mightily aggravate the persons wickednesse, if we can proove him in sundry vices to have committed va­rious excesses, and in every vice not to have wanted variety.

Yet all the enormities a vitious wretch committeth in the progresse of his life may bee reduced to these iij. heads; Irreligion towards God, Iniustice towards men, [Page 269] beastlinesse in himselfe.

First, If towards God he hath beene irreligious, an Atheist, an heretike, one that vpon every little hope of preferment or gayne, would change and alter his Reli­gion: to this purpose I cannot here omitte an excellent History, penned by Eusebius and Zozomenus, of Con­stantius the father of Constantine the great; who at whatEuseb. in lib. 1. vitae Constant. Sozomen. lib. 1. cap. 6. time the inferior Magistrates in every Province, by the decrees of the Emperours, most severely persecuted Christians, and with sundry sorts of exquisite torments bereaved them of their lives: Constantius to trye his Courtiers constancie in Christian Religion, put it free­ly in their election, eyther to sacrifice vnto the Idols, and remayne with him, and keepe their former places and honours; or if they would not, to leave his company and depart from him: presently they divided themselves in­to two parts, some offered to sacrifice, others refused: by this the Emperour perceived his servants mindes, and thereupon discovered the plot he had cast: wherefore reprooving the former, commending the latter, expo­stulating with them their feare and timiditie, highly ex­alting these for their zeale and sinceritie, and finally iudging them vnworthie of the Emperours service, as traytours to God, expelled them from his Pallace: for how, quoth he, will these be trustie to their Prince, who are trecherous and perfidious to their God? the others he appointed to be his guard, to wayte vpon his body, and to be keepers of his Kingdome: averring that hee doubted not of their fidelity to him, who had beene so faithfull and constant in professing and protesting their beleefe and religion.

Secondly, If he conspired against the Prince or State, [Page 270] molested the Magistrate, iniuried the Innocent, com­mitted Murder, Rapine, Theft &c. If he be of a bloody nature, delighting in quarrels and brawls: or in fine hath perpetrated any notorious offence, whereby the Com­mon-weale, or present auditors are damnified, either in reputation, or any other way.

Thirdly, If he be convinced by good reasons, guilty in any one vice; that is to be amplified after the best manner: specially, if there appeare in it any notable cir­cumstance, as oppression of Widowes, Orphanes, Wo­men, poore & needy men, honest, devout, or ecclesiasti­call persons.

Fourthly, If he hath iterated often the same sinne, so that it is rooted in him and become connaturall: and consequently we may despayre any emendation: then the obstinacie of his perversity deserveth greater repre­hension and detestation.

Fiftly, If hee hath committed various offences, the conglobation and annumeration of them, one aptly falling in the necke of another, cannot but stirre vp ex­ceedingly the Auditors to abhorre him: for this exten­sive variety representeth the person almost wholy cove­red with vice and iniquitie, in whose heart, as in a most filthy puddle, lie stincking all sorts of filthy offences.

Sixtly, If in himselfe he be addicted to lying, swea­ring, periuring, cursing, lust, gluttony, drunkennesse, pride, ambition, envie, detraction, rayling, reviling, ga­ming, &c.

Egresse. § 3.

ABout his Egresse, the causes and manner of his death are to be considered: as, if he were culpably [Page 271] the cause or occasion of his owne death: if his death were violent, or any way extraordinary, whereby it may be gathered, that God extraordinarily rid the world of such a reprobate: if in his sicknesse he repented not, but rather despayred or presumed: if he dyed like a Candle which leaveth the snuffe stinking after it, that is, all men that knew him, reioyced that hee was gone, spoke ill of him, lamented of iniuries done them by him: if he left children of ill behaviour after him. These and many more such like considerations, will sufficient [...] serve to sift out the rootes and groundes whereupon amplifica­tive perswasions must be built.

Hatred of a communitie. § 4.

IN exciting Hatred of a Communitie, Kingdome, Province or any Society. First wee may weigh their naturall dispositions and badde inclinations: and speci­ally those, which most offend our present Auditors.

First, As if they be our ancient enemies, if by nature bloody, crafty, prowde, insolent in governement, im­patient of Superiors or equalles: if cosiners, extortio­ners, invaders vniustly of others dominions: ayders or abetters of rebelles or our adversaries.

Secondly, If their religion be Paganisme, Iudaisme, Heresie, or Turcisme: and in particular, some of their principall and most palpable errors should be touched, and if wee could discover any (as for most part all a­bound) poynt or poynts they maintayne against the law and principles of Nature, then such a Position well declared, and the absurdities evidently inferred, cannot but worke great effects.

Thirdly, If in their temporall Lawes, they have ena­cted any tending to tyranny and oppression, if to fur­ther vice, and hinder vertue.

Fourthly, If they hold, pretend, or endevour to be­reave our State of any part of preeminence, dignitie, signiorie, province or countrie thereunto belonging: if they have abused or iniuried our State, Prince, or Sub­iectes any way, in person, goods, or fame &c. And in fine, the number of spitefull iniuries offered, cannot but stirr [...]p the spirit of spite against them.

Hatred of Abomination. § 5.

HAtred of Abomination, as was sayd above, consi­steth in a detestation of evill, for the love we beare the Person: as Iacob so dolefully lamented Ioseph (whom he supposed dead) for the tender love hee bare his per­son: And how bitter is the memorie of death to that man, which hath peace and great felicitie in his sub­stance, and that loveth extremely this transitory life? To move this Hatred, two things specially are diligent­ly to be observed: first the Person beloved, and all those reasons which may stir vp his love: then the hurt of the evill, and all the harmes it bringeth with it: for example, we ought for the love of our owne soules, and the soules of our neighbours, detest and abhorre sinne, and the of­fence of God: now all those inducements which moove vs to love our soules, strike in our hearts a hor­rour of sinne, which is the death and destruction of soules. And all those reasons which shew the deformity of sin, stirre vp a detestation thereof. The generall Mo­tives alledged above, applied to this particular, will [Page 273] suffice to perswade vs to love our Soules: the nature & harmes consequent vnto sinne and all other evils, we would induce our auditors to detest, may be collected out of the common places of Invention, reduced above to Ansit, quid sit, quale sit, & propter quid sit.

Meanes to move flight and feare. § 6.

WE said, that flight or detestation was opposite to desier: and that desier was the wishing of a thing abstracted from hope or expectation thereof, as every beggar would be a King if he might choose, albeit he never had, nor is like to have any hope of the aspiring thereunto. Flight is a detestation of some evill, though not imminent, nor exspected, yet such an evill as we ab­horre it and detest it, and possibly may befall vs, as a king to fall to poverty, beggery, or servitude he abhorreth; yet because he living in such prosperity conceiveth no danger nor perill, therefore he standeth in no feare. These two passions of desier and detestation, are stirred vp with the same motives that love and hatred of abo­mination, for as all the reasons apportable to render the thing amiable, the same make it desiderable, so all the inducements which perswade the obiect of hatred to be abominable, all the same cause it seeme detestable. As for example, I have a vertuous friend whom I love in­tierly, he converseth with Atheists, the more I love him, the more I hate Atheisme, as evill to him, and therefore I abhorre it should any way befall him. I am moved to abominate it as an extreme evill, for what can be more sottish, then to deny a God whom all creatures confesse and say ipse fecit nos, & non ipsae nos, he made vs, and not we our selves? what can be more beastly then not to ac­knowledge [Page 274] him nor his benefits, who every moment powreth vpon vs sundry favours? What horrible dis­orders should we see in the world, if there were not sup­posed a God that governeth and knoweth all, and at last with the ballance of his inflexible iustice will examine, iudge and reward all? No doubt but if Atheisme once enter into the hearts of men, vertue will be despised, and vice esteemed, might will rule right, and the rich op­presse the poore, and epicurisme wil take full possession, edamus bibamus cras moriemur, let vs gull our selves with eating & quaffing, for after this life no other remaineth, and therefore little it importeth vs to live like beasts, and dye like dogs: all these and many more such like argu­ments demonstrate the abomination of Atheisme, and also perswade evidently the detestation of the same, so that by applying the harmes or dammages of the evill, considered in generall, and absolutely in it selfe, to my selfe, or my friend whom I love, we may easily force flight and detestation.

Feare is a flight of a probable evill imminent: where­fore two things must be proved & amplified to enforce feare: first that the evill is great: secondly that it is very likely to happen: the excesse of the evill may be gathe­red out of the precedent discourses, the likelyhood, pro­bability, or certainty we draw from sundry circumstan­ces, as from our adversaries malice, & hatred against vs, their craft & deceit, their former maner of proceeding, wherunto we may annexe the impossibility or extreme difficulties to avoid it, as their might and our weakenes, their experience and our rawnesse: so that where there is obstinate & implacable hatred against vs; knowledge and foresight how to overcome vs; power and meanes [Page 275] to put in execution potent malice and hatred, what wicked effect will not then follow?

The vicinitie also of the evill moveth much, for dan­gers afarre off we little esteeme, as subiect to sundry ca­sualities and encounters: but when they are neere, and at the doore, then it is time to be stirring. If an Oratour would by the passion of feare move the Italians, Al­manes, and Spanyards to ioyne in league and wa [...]re vpon the Turke, he might vrge them in this manner. The Romanes in passed ages who with most carefull eye did foresee & prevent the dangers of their Empire, thought not themselves secure in Italy, except the Carthaginians were vanquished: but how much more neere are the Turkish Cities to Spaine, Germany, and Italy, then Car­thage was to Rome? What a swift Navie of Gailies hathDanger im­minent. he alwayes prepared by Sea, and therefore in one night may enter either the coasts of Italy or Spayne? What an infinite Army, as well of horsemen as footemen hath he alwayes in a readinesse to invade, offend, and ruine whom he wyll almost at vnawares, at least them that border vpon him, ere they can be halfe prepared? Of what force is this tyrant? The Romanes still lived in feare of the Carthaginians, though divers times over­come by them, and have not we much more reason to feare the Turkish puissance? What fortresses hath he woon from Christians? what Cities sackt? what Provin­cesThe Turks forces. vanquished? what Kingdomes subdued? what Em­pires spoyled, enioyed, possessed? Who ruleth now Africk? The Turke, either all, or most. Who signorizeth over Asia? The Turke. Who doth domineere over the greatest part of Europe? The Turke, his treasures are infinite, his victuals abundant, his people innu­merable, [Page 276] and so subiect and obedient, that they re­pute it a favour to be bereaved of their lives at their Emperours pleasure. Are all Princes Christian able to leavie and maintaine an army of 300000. fighting men. Solyman brought so many before Vienna in Austria, what wil such a world of combatents do? nay, what will they not do? Cover the fields like Locusts, in expugnation of Cities, reare vp mountaines of earth in a moment, fill vp ditches with dead corps of their owne men to scale the walles, with the very sight of such an invincible multi­tude strike terrour and amazement in the hearts of all them that shall see them or heare of them. His malice isThe Turks hatred against Christians. no lesse then his might: what pretendeth he in Constan­tinople? forsooth to be Emperour over all Europe, and successor to Constantine the great, this he claymeth as right, this he meaneth to win by might, this he resol­veth to inioy at length. Did he ever yet overslip opor­tunitie when Christians were at civill braules among themselves, or that he perceived any little advantage ready to further his plots? let Rhodes, Cypers, Buda, and the best part of Hungarie witnesse his vigilant malice, and malitious intent. Whom hateth he more then Christians? who hold him for an vsurper; who of right should possesse and inherit all he hath. Whose religion hath he extinguished in all those worthie kingdomes he now enioyeth, but Christianity? Whom calleth he dogs but Christians? But the Persian as yet holdeth him play, as potent as he, thirstie of his blood, as the Turke of Christians. If that were not, truly (except miraculously God preserved Christianitie) we should have seene all Europe over-runne: But why may wee not suppose that at last they wyll come [Page 277] to some truce or cessation from warres for a long time, as a wearied with so much warring and bloodshed, or fi­nally conclude a peace? and what then is like to befall vs? why rather were it not better now for all Christians to be at peace among themselves, and assault and invade him vpon this side, while we have the Persian to incoun­ter with him on the other? O blindnes! O prowd ambi­tion of Christian Princes! who seeke rather to spoyle their brethren of their owne with iniury, then they will warre against their common Adversary to recover their owne right.

Put case the Turkes breake over their bankes, and make a generall inundation over all Europe, what great harme might wee expect? what harme? God avert vs from prooving the Turkish tyranny? what man is secureThe greatnes of the evill feared. of his lyfe in their Invasion, who hath eyther strength, wisedome, wealth, or nobilitie? whereby he may seeme eyther to have opposed, or hereafter oppose himselfe a­gainst them? what Matrone, what Virgin, what Lady shall befree from theyr beastly violence? who shal keepe lands or livings vnder the clowches of such ravinous Kytes and devouryng Cormorants? whatsoever a man getteth with his sweate and industrie, when hee dyeth, the great Turkish Tyrant must inherit, and what he dee­meth or pleaseth, shall be allowed the wife and chil­dren.

The Gallies shall then want no Slaves to leade a hel­lish thraldome, when they have vanquished so many as they may vse in all drudgery and slavery at their plea­sure: the children, who are warlike in their infancy, per­force shalbe taken from their parents, & sent into a farre country from thē, & there trained vp in martiall prowes [Page 278] and Turcisme, and forget both father & mother, coun­trie and kindred, and neither yeeld comfort ever to progenitors, nor receive any comfort from them. Many more such tyrannicall vexations, & barbarous cruelties I could recount, but he that will not be moved with these, I hold him neither a wise morall man, nor any way touched with one sparke of christian zeale.

Meanes to move Ire. § 7.

IRe includeth in it a certaine hatred of enmitie, and thereunto super-addeth a desier of revenge: the first part hath the same motives as hatred: and the desier of revenge may be revived, quickned and increased by the exaggeration of the iniury receyved, the greatnesse and enormitie whereof we have insinuated in the circum­stances of bestowing benefits: for as gifts and favours procede from kindnesses and good will, so iniuries from hatred and malice, and therefore the contraryes of bountifull geving will demonstrate the heynousnes of spitefull iniurying: wherefore as we reduced them to foure heads, so we will these, to wit, the giver, gift, receyver, manner of giving; the iniurer, iniurie, iniu­ried, manner of iniurie.

The Iniurer. § 8.

THe iniurers basenesse augmenteth the iniurie, as a buffer given a Prince by a Prince, were not so hey­nous an iniury, as if a base peasant had done it▪ because as the greatnes of the Princes person ought more to be respected of a base man then of an equall Prince, so by beating him his contempt is accounted the greater.

Secondly, if the iniure [...] be a wise, grave, and vertu­ous [Page 279] man, the iniury by the persons dignity increaseth: for example, if a Bishop or a famous Doctor dispraise, or iniuriously detract the good name of a Nobleman, Gentleman, or Cleargyman, for commonly every one will esteeme it truer comming from such a mans mouth; and it is like to make deeper impression in their minds, because such circumspect persons are not accustomed without great cause and vrgent reasons so to traduce any man.

Thirdly, if the iniury proceed from a publike Magi­strate or officer of iustice whom it concerneth in equitie to procure and commaund, that every man have right, the iniury is greater: as if the Iudge or Iustice of peace infame any person called before them vniustly, the in­iury is almost doubled, for the innocent suffereth wrong of him who in iustice was bound rather to save his cre­dit, then so iniuriously to abuse him.

4. If the iniurer were before our most speciall friend, for that common grammaticall example that Amantiū irae a moris redintegratio sunt, that lovers ire sets love afier, and friends dissentions, renue, revive, & increase friend­ship. This sentence I say must be seasoned with a graine of salt; and first in voluptuous love, and mercinarie friendship the rule holdeth, for when such lovers live in dissension, they want that pleasure they most desired, and therefore as one who long time wanteth drinke or meate after bringeth more hunger and thirst, and conse­quently liketh and loveth his meate and drinke better then he did before, even so such want of wished de­lights causeth a more vehement desier, and ioyfull pos­session thereof. And yet this also must be vnderstoode when there is hope remayning of future fruition, for [Page 280] otherwise love transporteth herselfe into mortall ha­tred, as the spitefull malice of Putifers vnchast wife wit­nesseth, in persecuting vntill death the chaste and inno­cent Ioseph.

In faithfull love among vertuous friends small trifling iniuries are oftentimes occasion of more fervent and vigilant love, as a little [...] in a beautifull face causeth the beautie better appeare, so frivolous wrangles and friendly frownes cause the amiable vnion of friend­ship; But in great offences and premeditated iniuries, which admit no tergiversation nor amicable inter­pretation, such of all others are most bitter and irrecon­cileable: and therefore Aristotle well noted, that dis­cordsAristot. 7. de Rep. ca. 7. among brethren & friends were most vehement: for who would not be moved with iust indignation there to finde hatred, where he most affectually loved: there to receive iniuries where he expected favours; there finally to reape harmes where he iudged the of­fender in duty obliged to do good?

5. If he have received any benefits at our hands, and in lieu of reward, recognition, and gratitude repaye vs with iniuries & ingratitude: and for this circumstance we reade that God in the old Testament expostulating the dayly iniuries the stiff-neckt Iewes offered him, he vsually reprehended their ingratitude with commemo­rating the continuall benefits he had bestowed vpon them, as though such favours deserved better service.

6. If the iniurer with endamaging vs, endamaged greatly himselfe; as a flye to put forth a mans eye, leeseth her owne life, so many men both wickedly and iniustly care not to waste & consume their own wealth and sub­stance in sutes and lawes so they may begger their ad­versaries: [Page 281] and not much vnlike him who said he could well be contented to be hanged, so he had killed his e­nemy. I say this circumstance aggravateth greatly the iniury, because it argueth an excesse of malice, whereby the iniurer doth not only iniury me, against equitie and reason, but also rather then he will omit to harme me, he careth not to harme himself, as though he preferred my evill, before his own good, and iudged it better to hurt vs both, then his malitious mind should rest vnsatisfied.

7. If he had offered me many iniuries before, the which I never revenged, for by this appeareth his malice is vnsatiable, and therefore reiterateth often his mischie­vous mind, as though no drop of spite should rest in his heart vnpowred out.

The iniurie in it selfe. § 9.

WE may be iniuried in the goods of our soules, our bodies, of fortune or of good name, existi­mation or reputation. In the goods of our soules if any man craftily inveagle our iudgements with errours, he­resies, or false opinions. If we be importunely induced, or deceitfully inticed to any offence of God, or breach of his commandements. If any hinder o [...] [...]op vs from the service of God, receiving of sacraments, hearing of his word preached or taught. In the goods of our bodies by killing, mayming, wounding, beating, or any way a­busing of them. In goods of fortune by theft, cosinage, vsurie, not repaying due debts, hurting our cattell, fer­vants, children, friends, lands, tenements, or any kind of possession. In goods of same or reputation, by detra­cting, calumniating, convitiating, or any way dishono­ring vs, as mocking, gibing, or after any scurrilous maner [Page 282] deriding, libelling against vs, or any way impeaching our good name & fame we hold among mē. Ordinarily the goods of the soule are prized above the goods of the body, and these more esteemed then the favours of fortune, and they preferred before the blazon of ho­nour: because, as the origen of love, is first a mans selfe, and for it all other things beloved; so these goods, which are most neere himselfe, and concerne his substance, or necessary preservation thereof, are more affectually lo­ved, then they which touch him lesse; as first his body, then goods of fortune, and last of all, same. I sayd ordi­narily, for if we compare a title of honor, as to be Earle, Baron, &c. these are to bee preferred before a great summe of money: yet I doubt not, but if election were given an Earle to bee a beggar, and an Earle all his life; or a simple Merchant, but exceeding rich: hee would rather choose this, and refuse that, for there is no miserie like Nobility pressed with penury. Wherefore alwayes must be held with the chiefest of one degree of goods, with the chiefest of an other, and so the compa­rison framed, as the chiefest goods of the soule, of grace, vertue, wisedome, prudence, &c. are to be valued above the life of the body, integritie of members, wealth, fame, &c. I know against this division and reason, some will obiect that common Text of Scripture; Melius Proverb. 22. 1. est nomen bonum, quam divitiae multae: super argentum & aurum gratia bona. A good Name is better then many riches; and a good grace, that is a gratious and favoura­ble good liking among men; above silver and gold. But to this Text I answere, that in it are involved good friends, and their gratious good willes, which are favors of Fortune, and so to be preserred before riches, which [Page 283] are contayned in the same degree. Secondly, fame and a good name sometime is necessarie to the perfection of vertue, and the good of the soule, as without them, the Preacher should perswade but sorrily; the Magi­strate be obeyed but servilely, the Prince honored but ceremoniously; & in fine, take away a good Name, and all vertuous examples wil seeme counterfeit hypocrisie. Thirdly, true it is, a good Name ought to bee prized a­bove many riches, but I thinke there be few rich men in the world, that had not rather bee iniuried in their good Name, then fall to begging. Fourthly, a good Name or a good Fame wayteth vpon a good Life, and he that liveth badly, for most part carrieth as bad a name and a fame: to our purpose then, a man must have care of his good Name, because hee should live vertuously, whereby such a good Name is gotten: and indeed, such a precious fruite hanging vpon so noble a Plant, surpas­seth all worldly wealth; and this I take to be the true and literall sense of this Text of Scripture, whence-from ex­haleth that sweete and fragrant smell of gracious plea­sing, and contenting of all men: for a soule that is really vertuous, and so knowen and blazed abroad, cannot but stirre vp mens hearts to like and love well such a Person.

Every iniury then offered, tendeth to the bereaving of vs, of some of these goods related, of soule, body, fortune or fame, and therefore according to every de­gree of goodnesse, ought to be esteemed.

Secondly, if the iniury did vs much harme, and the iniurer no good: if it hurt many a Towne, Citie, Pro­vince, State or Kingdome: for, to more persons it ex­tendeth, the poyson is more pestilent, and the malice more vehement.

Thirdly, At what end the Iniurie aymed, if he cosi­ned, to procure meanes to murder, to commit adultery, to hurt the State: this externall Motive augmenteth his malice.

The Iniuried. § 10.

FIrst, the greatnesse of the Person iniuried, encreaseth the iniurie, as a blow given to a Prince, even by a Prince, is accounted more offensive, then done to a pri­vate man by a Prince or a private person.

Secondly, the nocuments ensuing are to be conside­red, which necessarily follow, and are not casually there­vnto annexed. For example, one causeth an Innocent to be imprisoned or hanged by false accusations and forgeries: the charges, as fees to Officers, Iaylors, losse of lands, goods, libertie and life, extraordinary expences for lodging, diet, going abroad &c. as all these damma­ges follow and augment the iniurie, so they ought to be satisfied, and without consideration of this recompen­sation and full accomplishment thereof, the heires of the iniuried receyve not iustice, nor a correspondent e­qualitie to the excesse of the iniurie, when restitution should be made.

Thirdly, if among divers, who might, and in reason should have beene iniuried rather then wee, yet vpon spite, we were singled from the rest: for this iniust sepa­ration proceedeth from maligning hatred, specially bent against our persons.

Fourthly, if the person iniuried, was then presently doing, or labouring for the offenders good or commo­ditie: as if an Oratour were perswading the Common­weale [Page 285] to some glorious enterprise, a private subiect should goe about to kill him.

The manner of Iniurying. § 12.

IF wee be in countenance and externall apparance held as friends, and secretly iniuried like enemies: this dissimulation addeth an other vitious circumstance, covering enmity with amity.

Secondly, if along time the Iniury was thought vp­on, and premeditated; then the continuation sheweth a more confirmed ill will against vs: if at Christmasse, Easter, or such times as are religiously celebrated.

Thirdly, if in place where wee ought to be loved and honored or reverenced, there we be wronged, dishono­red, disgraced: as if a Bishop should be beaten in the Church, or a Preacher threatned, preaching in the pul­pit: a Iudge vpon the Bench: a Councellour at the Councel table: a King in his Throne.

Fourthly, in every particular iniury, the manner of offending, and demonstrating internal exuperant ill wil, may a hundred wayes be varied. Who is able to re­count the manners, how enemies kill, wound, and in­iury their Adversaries? as the very cudgell wherewith a Cavalero is bastonated, greatly aggravateth the offence, and many would wish rather to bee deepely wounded with a sword, then beaten in that fashion. Caracalla the Emperour, hearing that the Lawyer Papinian was be­headed with a hatchet, was greatly offended, wishing itDio. in Cara­cal: Herod. li. 4 had been e effected with a sword for his more disgrace and ignominie.

Fiftly, if the iniurie bee publike, before a multiude, [Page 286] then the greater number concurreth to blaze abroad the Infamy: for commonly, if with words or deeds we in­iury one, the cause will be supposed to have beene given by the person iniuried, and so he must beare the blowes, and also an vniversall discredite: I say commonly, for it seemeth difficill, how the iniuried vpon a sudden can quit himselfe of the calumniations imposed vpon him, though never so innocent, because the iniurer in a trice may cogge out a world of lyes, sweare and stare against him, the which flatte denyall will not suffice to con­fute; and to convince them by witnesse or evident rea­son vpon a sudden, all wise men will confesse to be ex­treme hard.

Meanes to moove Hope. § 13.

HOpe is a Passion, whereby we expect probably or certaynely any future good, or any evil to happen, conceaved as good. For example, the Souldyer ex­pecteth and hopeth for riches, when he lyeth before a Cittie to besiege it: the blessed Saintes in Heaven live in a most certayne Hope of the glorious Resurrection of theyr bodyes: the Dyvell in temptyng Gods Ser­vants, hopeth to prevayle. Hope therefore beeyng grounded vpon perswasion specyally of obtayning; therefore all those Motives which render the atchyeve­ment more likely, all those styrre and moove the Passi­on of Hope: and the more forcibly, they which per­swade it most apparantly and presently. This obiect is endlesse, and hardly can be brought to any Methode, for as the thyngs hoped for, are without number; so the Meanes and Motyves to induce men thereunto be [Page 287] infinite. Howbeit, these generall Preceptes may be ob­served.

First, for that Hope expecteth the thing hoped for, of an other, or by a mans labour, endevour, or indu­stry: therefore wee must in stirring it, have alwayes an eye to the groundes and foundations, whereupon our Hope shall be built, for as these fadge, so Hope follow­eth: if these bee small or frivolous, Hope is vayne and ridiculous: if they be strong and sound, Hope will proove more certayne and prudent: for wise men al­wayes according to these groundes iudge of the event: for example, a man may well hope the Turkish Em­pyre cannot long continue, because theyr manner of governement repugneth with stabilitie and continuati­on: for how is it possible, but that in every change of Emperour, there should succeede civill warres among them, seeing the new Emperour presently causeth all his brethren to bee slayne, lest afterwards they should growe potent and trouble his Raigne. I omitte, that this bloody vnnaturall Tyranny (which demaundeth dayly vengeaunce at Gods handes) deserveth Divisi­on, Rebellion and Destruction, and onely inferre, that they being certayne to dye in all humane Policie, nay, in naturall equity, are enforced to make partes, and while theyr Father lyveth, provide Forces and Friends, and after hee is dead, to prevayle by Mayne and Might, that theyr Brothers Creation be not theyr de­struction.

Secondly, among grave men, few reasons and strong are more effectuall, then a number, but weaker: be­cause they bee able presently, by the strength of theyr wittes, to confute and overthrow them. But a [Page 288] multitude of slender reasons among the common peo­ple, strike a greater stroke; for coniectures and probabili­ties worke as forcibly with them, as deepe demonstra­tions.

Thirdly, to gather these Motives into heads, I hold it best, in that hope which dependeth vpon the good will of another to performe, to discourse over the Circum­stances of actions. Quis, quid, vbi, quibus auxilijs, cur, quom [...]do, quando. And out of them picke some perswa­sions of obtayning a graunt. For example; if the gran­ter be our friend or kinseman, if of his nature liberall and bountifull, &c. Quid if the thing bee profitable to the giver, or receyver, without any harme or detriment vnto the giver. Vbi, if the giver or granter be in place where vsually he granteth such requests, as entertayned of vs, taking possession of great landes, &c. If we have potent Intercessours for vs, and wise Agents to procure what we desire: then this Circumstance of Quibus aux­ilijs will greatly further our purpose. Cur: If hee have many reasons to grant our suite, and none to withstand it. Quomodo: If in the manner of granting, hee winne himselfe great credit and reputation, eyther because it argueth a bountifull minde, or a compassion-full heart, or a charitable conscience, or most, or all.

Fourthly, it were not amisse to set downe all the ob­iections which any way may frustrate our Hope, and briefely, orderly, and as evidently as may be, refute them: for thereby all cavilles, and impediments shall be remooved.

Fiftly, that which I have sayd of Hope, by a contra­ry rule, may be applyed vnto Desperation: for the dif­ficulty of obtayning that we desire, being remonstrated [Page 289] to be inseperable, either by the parties malice, or inviti­cible meanes which must be vsed in the procuring of it, that I say rendreth the thing desperate and consequent­ly vnexpectable.

Meanes to move ioy and delight. § 16.

AS there is nothing in this life more potent then pleasure to move men to action, and the attemp­ting of great exploits, so there is nothing more requisite to be knowne to any man that will be gratefull & accep­table vnto men, then how to move and excite them to pleasure. True it is that ambitious men aspire after ho­nours: but why thirst they so after thē, but because they take an extraordinary delight to be honored? why do covetous cormogions distill the best substance of their braines to get riches, but after they have gotten them, to delight in the possession or fruition of them? the same may be said of all inordinate passions which consist in the prosequution of some amiable or desiderable ob­iect. And the reason is, for ioy & delight are a possession of some good thing, wherin nature receiveth great con­tentation, and therefore a man in ioy participateth a cer­taine kind of felicitie, for felicitie is nothing else but a complete contentation, quietnes and rest of the minde and body; wherefore the greater delight either really or apparently apporteth the greater contentation, rest and quietnesse, & consequently the greater felicitie. And as there is no man affecteth not extremely felicitie & hap­pinesse, so there is no man extremely desireth not ioy & delight. They therefore that can move these passions, feed them & continue them, must needs be most grate­full, acceptable, and beloved; yea they may almost do what they list in any company, for all mē love happines [Page 290] and the continuance thereof: and those that can aptly stir vp this passion may be accounted authors of a terre­striall happinesse and felicitie. Therefore I will alittle enlarge this discourse as most profitable, if not neces­sary for most sorts of men.

First of all we must suppose, that all those motivesMotives to delight. which stir vp love and affection, consequently move de­sier and delight: for love is like the quality of lenity or lightnes in fier, which inclineth and bendeth it to mo­tion, desier is the motion, passage, or voyage; delight the quietnes or rest of the soule in her obiect, and therefore all those causes of love we have delivered in the matter of Love, all those may serve for this subiect.

Secondly it is requisite a man consider the inclinations of those persons he would move to delight, for quicquid recipitur per modum recipient is recipitur, according to the disposition of the hearer are received the words of the speaker. Some men are inclined to piety, some to study, some to one thing, some to another: every one willingly hea [...]eth, & delighteth to have commended that he pro­fesseth, for in praising that we commend him: and this reason is gathered out of a common experience, that men for most part desier to be praised. It is a world to see how blind selfe-love maketh women to dote of them­selves, and it seemeth ridiculous sometime, to see how they are fed and delighted with the panigeries of para­sites. I have seene some old Ladies halfe rotten, & some others monstrously deformed, to take an extraordinarie delight in themselves, when others for flattery commen­ded their beauty. In this point also we may consider a se­cret motive, to delight in that thing a man is delighted in, as if one be delighted in Musick, in hunting, hauking, &c. some prety new devise in any of them would please [Page 291] the person exceedingly: and therefore the parasites of Princes study dayly & hourely how by deeds & words they may feed this humor: yea some of thē proceeded so far in dignifying their Kings and Monarks, that they adored them as gods. And the others no lesse sacrilegi­ous in accepting, them they blasphemous in ascribing, were contented to have their mortall corruptible bo­dies, and horribly infected sinfull soules worshipped as immortall, spotlesse, divine deities. This act of new plea­sing inventions proportionate to their passions & incli­nations whom we would move to delight, cannot but greatly help vs in the way of perswasion, if it be plausibly and artificially handled: for otherwise if it be grossely managed, it [...] of flattery, and affected folly.

3. A firme hop [...] & assurance of those things we desier & love, causeth delight, spe gaudentes saith S. Paul reioy­cing in hope: and that other spes alit agricolas, hope nou­risheth the Countrymen; for the hope of gaine causeth the laboring Husbandman not to feele the scorching heate of summer, nor the hoarie frosts of winter: hope of glory allotteth the souldier to receive a certaine sweet messe in all dangerous incounters: hope of lucre maketh the Merchant merry at midnight, although he lye in the midst of the vast ocean sea tossed with billowes, & sha­ken with tempests: and the surer the hope is, the greater ioy ensueth, as whē the Merchant after his long voyage returneth with his Ship laden with merchandize, and commeth with a pleasant gale within the sight of his exspected haven, then his hope for the certainty of his future possession of his apported wealth, being delive­red from all danger, is changed into ioy and present de­light. He therefore that will move delight in this matter of hope, must exactly declare the certain grounds & vn­doubted [Page 292] securitie of obteyning the thing exspected, ac­cording to the rules of exciting hope, alleaged in the precedent Paragraffe.

4. Because delight consisteth in the possession of some good thing reall or apparant; therefore all those reasons which tend to the amplification or evident demonstra­tion of the goodnes of the thing, all those are fewell of delight, and sparks of ioy. For example, a man hath bought a Mannour-house wherein he delighteth: to please and delight him there is nothing more fit, then to amplifie the goodnes thereof: as for situation, it stan­deth in a pleasant ayre, free from fennes or standing wa­ters, no infection neere it, the inhabitants in former times were of a very good complexion, lived many yeares, were strong, wittie, &c. all which are good signes of a healthfull soyle: the roomes and conveyances are very apt & proportioned, the walls and roofes firme & durable, the water sweet, the walks, gardēs, & other com­modities so pleasant, as they resemble a Paradice.

5. It is admirable how the minching & particularising of the obiect of delight increaseth and augmenteth de­light, wherefore the fantasticall and lascivious Poets, though vainely and vitiously, yet wittily and artificially depaint their lovers bodies from the head to the heeles, in every part discovering one or other perfection, excel­lency, or amiablenesse, apt to move and stir vp delight. And herein also all Trades-men excell, for to perswade their wares to be good and perfit, they will presently open vnto you a number of circumstances or oppurte­nances of goodnes or excellencie wherewith their mer­chandise is affected: for as they have more insight, and know more exactly the goodnes and defects of their wares then other men, so they can vnfold best the parti­cular [Page 293] reasons which move love & delight. And for this cause I would have all those who would move men to good life & vertue, to induce them thereunto, by parti­cularising of the pleasures & delights incident thereun­to, as the quietnes of conscience, the gratefulnes to God, the honour & reputation of all good men, the re­ward in the world to come, and every one of these the finer it is sifted, the more pleasant it will appeare.

6. It importeth much in moving delight to perswade the stabilitie and continuance thereof, that it seeme not like a May-flower, which is budded, blossomed, and bla­sted in a small time: and the reason is, for momentarie and cursorie delights are for their brevitie rather de­spiseable then commendable. The continuance of de­light may be grounded vpon the removing of all impe­diments which any way may impeach or diminish it.

7. As there are two sorts of delight, sensuall & intelle­ctuall; sensuall which taketh his source from sense & pas­sions; and intellectuall, which draweth his origen from the vnderstanding and the will: so in every obiect of de­light there is a certaine intensive goodnes & perfection, and there is an extensive: as for example in a Cellar of wine there may be excellent good wine, and varietie of excellent good wine, and thereby our taste may be de­lighted with the perfection of wine, and with the varie­ties of wine. In like manner in all the obiects of delight, we may find a certaine intension of goodnes, and a cer­taine extension, and both these well vnderstood and de­clared, exceedingly increase pleasure & delight: for the intention filleth and satiateth the soule, and the extensi­on or varietie taketh away a certaine distastfull loath­somnesse which one kind of vniforme pleasure draweth with it.

The sixt Booke, en­treating of the defects or im­perfections of mens soules.

THE Geographers describing the scituation of any country, are not content to set downe the provin­ces, citties, and territories thereof, but also they depaint in theyr Cardes, and explicate in theyr Bookes, the Countries and Cities adioyning, that thereby men might know the borders and limits of both, and not mistake the one for the o­ther: even so, because our sensitive appetite hath the wit and will which border vpon it; therefore I thought good, to declare certayne of their imperfections, which knowledge will not help vs alitle, to discerne more ex­actly the nature of passions. Besides, good Physitians of the body expend, not onely the present agew, or hu­mor, that causeth sicknesse, but also they search out the causes and of-springs of such maladies: so I thinke it [Page 295] not amisse, to shew the vniversall causes, from whence inordinate passions proceede. And first of all we will descend vnto the defects of our wits or vnderstan­dings.

2 Defects of our Vnderstanding.

ALl the defects of our wit may be reduced to two, Ignorance, and Errour; by Ignorance we know not things necessary; by Errour we know them false­ly: Ignorance is a privation, Errour a positive action: all ignorance cannot be prevented; many errours, but all cannot be escaped; from ignorance floweth vice, and from errour heresie.

1. Naturall ignorance.

ALl the sonnes of men are conceived and borne in sinne and ignorance: Aristotle compareth our wits, at the beginning, to a smooth table, wherein no­thing is written, but apt to receive all formes and fi­gures: and in this truely I must confesse one poynt of my ignorance, that it seemeth to me, that God en­doweth bruite beasts with more sparkes of knowledge, then reasonable men, and they may be sayde, even in their nativitie, to have imprinted a certayne know­ledge and naturall instinct, to inquire and finde out things necessary, to be theyr owne Physitians, to flye that may hurt them, and follow that may profit them. Marke but a Lambe almost new yeaned, how it will finde foorth the mothers dugge, discerne and single her foorth in all the flocke, waite vppon her so dilli­gentlie, [Page 296] within eight dayes it seeth light: but a childe may be many dayes borne, and yet cannot finde out his mothers dugge, except the Nurse move him vnto it: neyther can it cure it selfe, or demaund what it nee­deth, otherwayes then by weeping.

II. Errours of the last end.

WHen a man beginneth to practize a little his fa­cultie of Vnderstanding, then you shall see how fitly he expelleth this chaos of infinite ignorance, lyke an vnskilfull Physitian, who, to cure one disease, causeth a worse; so hee delivereth himselfe of igno­rance by a multitude of errours, quenching his thirst with a potion of poyson: this wee may see more plainely, by the infinite errours that men are subiect vnto by Nature: For let vs consider the famous Phi­losophers of passed ages, who lacking faith, bragged of naturall knowledge: Which of them knew but to what end man was created of God? their dissen­ting sects and erroneous opinions. Lactantius and Saint Austen relate, how some thought mens lastLactandib. 3. divina institut. ca. 7. Aug. lib. 19. civi [...]. ca. 1. & sequentibus. end was pleasure: others naturall knowledge, some in privation of payne▪ some to live according to na­ture, others, the goods of the soule, the body, and fortune, with infinite such like false assertions; and this, not about a trifle or May-game, but the very mayne poynt whereat men should ayme at all their lives, and whereunto they were bound to direct all their actions.

III. Errours in the meanes.

IF the ende was apparelled with such darkenesse, how how could they bee but ignorant of the meanes ne­cessary for the atchievement of such an ende? and wee dayly proove, what difficulty men feele, in effecting, yea, in resolving themselves, which action is good, which is badde; how many volumes have beene writ­ten of cases of Conscience, and yet, what good mans conscience is not vexte some times with seruples? who can define the qualitie of his actions, affected with such varietie of circumstances? who can resolve himselfe, howe far [...]e the lawe of Nature engraven in our heartes extendeth? Howe often doth an errone­ous conscience barke and byte, when the Soule did not prevaricate the Lawe of God, or passe the limittes of Reason? This blindnesse of Minde, without all questi­on, argueth great imperfection of the Soule, and ex­treme Misery of man. Wherefore one cryed, Delicta quis intelligit? Ab occultis meis munda me Domine: andPsal. 18. Iob. 9. 2 [...] another, Verebar omnia opera mea.

IIII. Difficultie in Vnderstanding.

BVt what shall I say of the woonderfull difficultie all men suffer to come by the knowledge of any Trueth? Veritas in profundo latet; Veritie lyeth in the bottome. In the West Indies, those that follow by digging, the Veynes of Gold, runne vnder high moun­taynes, many miles, descending through stony Rockes [Page 298] into the bowels of the earth, yet they ever are winning ground, they reape Oare, they recompence their travell, they labour with alacrity. But in learning occurreth an­other sort of difficulty, Trueth must be further fetcht, greater sweate and industry must be vsed.

For what cause I pray you, stand Schoole-masters ar­med dayly with whips and scourges, with such sowre and bitter visages with thundring & threatning words, but by terror to enforce their vntoward and vnwilling Youth, to overcome the difficulty they find in learning? why at this present doe so many ignorant replenish the world, discoursing so blockishly, speaking so sottishly,Quidam sunt tantae satuita­t [...], vt non mul­tuma pecor [...]bus disserant. Angust. ep. 28. ad thereon. answering so absurdly, that scarce you would iudge them indued with reasonable soules, but onely because they had rather be buried in that profound cave of ig­norance, than endevour to overcome the extreame dif­ficulty they finde in learning? What other reason can by yeelded, why all ignorance and errours are not aboli­shed, and wholy extinguished, seeing learned men have left to their posteritie, so many thousand volumes, (that in some Libraries you should finde, five, sixe, ten thou­sand corps of bookes, all written for no other end, than to purifie our wittes, to consume the cloudes of errours and ignorance) but the difficulty we find in attayning vnto learning? Whereupon grew those dissenting and contradicting Sectes of Peripatetikes, Academikes, Sto­ickes, Epicures, Thomists, and Scotists, Realles and No­minalles, but by the disprooving of one anothers opi­nion, which proceeded from the difficulty of vnder­standing and conceyving of Learning.

V. Ignorance and Errours about God.

YEt, if men, by sweate and labour, by distilling their Braynes, and spending their Spirits in studies, at last could winne the victory of Errours and Ignorance, then all paynes were sufficiently rewarded, the interest would defray the expences of the Voyage. But alas! how ma­ny have wandered in a vast desart of learning, amongst brambles and bryars, not able to passe forward, nor re­turne backeward? who would thinke, men could be ig­norant of the Maiestye of God, which all bruite andInterroga Iu­menta, et doce­bunt [...]e, Vola­tilia Coeli, & indicabunt tibi, loquere terr [...], & respondebit tibi, & narra­bunt pisces Maris. Quis ignorat quod manus Domini haec omnia fecerat. Iob. 12 7. senselesse creatures confesse? and yet such is, and hath beene the palpable ignorance of the world, that in place of God, some worshipped Calves, others Serpents, o­ther Crocodiles, others Onions and Garlike. I omit how many (supposed very wise) adored the Sunne, Moone, and Starres, the Elements of earth, fire, and water, for these errours might have carried some shew of wisedome, in respect of the other absurdities. How could men be more besotted, than to imagine God, by whom they lived, mooved, and were, whose goodnesse sustayned them, whose power vpheld them, whose wise­dome directed them, to be a Crocodile, or a Calfe, orCommo [...]a qui­bus vtimur, lu­cem qua [...]rut­mur, spiritum quem ducimus, a Deo nobis dari & impar­tiri v [...]demus. Cic. pro Ros [...]. Amer. that Divinitie could inhabite such savage Beasts? where was the imortall soule? the Image of the Trinity? the fa­culty of vnderstanding? the power of apprehending, iudging, and discoursing? Were all these drowned in darkenesse? did no sparke of light or life shine over them? O ignorance intollerable! O blindnesse! more grosse, than not to see, when the Sunne lodgeth in his Zenith.

VI. Ignorance and Errours about our Soules and bodies.

BVt some will say, Gods Maiesty dazeled theyr eyes, they were not able, by the weake light of Nature, to behold so super-excellent a glory: well, at least they might have knowne themselves; for what was more neere them then their owne soules and bodies, their five senses, the operations of vnderstanding and affecting, the Passions of the Minde, and alterations of the body? yet the Ignorance and Errours, which both inchaunted them, and inveigle vs, are almost incredible. I could propound above a hundreth questions about the Soule and the body, which partly are disputed of by Divines, partly by naturall and morall Philosophers, partly by Physitians, all which, I am of opinion, are so abstruse and hidden, that they might be defended as Problemes, and eyther parte of Contradiction alike impugned. Some I will set downe, that by them coniecture may be made of the rest.

Problemes concerning the substance of our Soules.
  • 1 WHether in mens bodies there reside more formes then one.
  • 2 Whether it can bee demonstrated by naturall rea­son, that the Soule is immortall.
  • 3 How can the Soule extend it selfe thorow the whole body, being a Spirit indivisible, inextensed, and able whole and entire to reside in one only and indivi­sible poynt.
  • [Page 301]4 How are the Soule and Body, Spirite and Flesh coupled together, what chaynes, what fetters imprison a spirituall Substance, an immortal Spirit in so base, stin­king; and corruptible a car [...]asse?
  • 5 How, by punishing the flesh, or hurting the body, the Soule feeleth payne, and is afflicted.
  • 6 Whether the hayres, spirites, blood, choler, fleugme, skinne, fatte, nayles, marrow, be animated, or no.
  • 7 Whether the Bones and Teeth be sensitive, or no.
  • 8 How the Soule contayneth those three degrees, of vegetative, sensitive, and reasonable.
  • 9 How these three degrees do differ.
  • 10 How the Soule of a Child, being contained and dispersed in so little a body, when it is borne, afterward dilateth it selfe, and spreadeth in the body of a man.
  • 11 When an Arme or a Legge is cut off, by chance, from the Body, what becommeth of the Soule, which informed that part?
  • 12 Why departeth the Soule from the Body in a ve­ment
    Problemes concerning the faculties in generall.
    Sicknesse, it being immortall, and independing of the Body, able to live in ayre, water, or fire.
  • 13 How many faculties do spring from the Soule.
  • 14 How they spring in order, one depending vpon an other, or without any dependance.
  • 15 How do they differ from the Soule?
  • 16 Whether are they subiected in the Soule, Body, or the whole.
  • 17 What dependance hath our vnderstanding vp­on
    Problemes concerning our vnder­standing.
    the imagination.
  • 18 How a corporall imagination concurre to a spiri­tuall conceit.
  • [Page 302]19 What is apprehension and conceyving?
  • 20 What iudgement and affirming?
  • 21 What discourse and inferring?
  • 22 How these three differ, what is their obiects?
  • 23 How apprehend wee so many things together without confusion.
  • 24 How are these three operations of our wit sub­ordinated?
  • 25 How they erre.
  • 26 How they may be certified.
  • 27 What is a vitall acte of Vnderstanding.
  • 28 How the formes, faculties, habites, and Soule it selfe concurre to such an acte: about every one of these foure, many questions may easily be propounded, but hardly resolved.
  • 29 What is a Habite?
  • 30 How ingendred?
  • 31 How augmented?
  • 32 How diminished and corrupted?
  • 33 In what faculties of our Soules habites princi­pally allodge.
  • 34 Whether the acte or habite be more perfite.
  • 35 How are habits distinguished in the same faculty.
  • 36 How the habites of our imagination and vnder­standing, of our sensible appetite and will, differ, when they tend vnto sensible obiects.
  • 37 What is the vniversall obiect of our Vnderstan­ding? every thing, or onely the trueth of things.
  • 38 Whereupon commeth the difficulty we finde in Vnderstanding, proceedeth it from the obiect, or the weakenesse of the faculty, or both?
  • 39 How doth Reason direct and correct Sense?
  • [Page 303]40 Whether knowledge concurreth, as an efficient cause, to effect the operations of our will, or no.
  • 41 What is Arte? what the Idaea in the Artificers minde, by whose direction hee frameth his woorkes, what is Prudence, Wisedome, the internall speech and words of the minde.
  • 42 What is the habite of principles?
  • 43 What the law of Nature, and how engrafted in our Vnderstanding.
  • 44 What is Conscience?
  • 45 Whence-from proceedeth Remorce.
  • 46 What is evidence and certitude in Knowledge, and how they differ.
  • 47 How Knowledge and perfit Science, differ from credulity and opinion, and whether feare be necessarily included in every opinion.
  • 48 If ever man had such a demonstration as Aristotle describeth in his first Booke of Posteriors.
  • 49 Whether a Demonstration once had, can ever be lost, or no.
  • 50 Why can we not come by as firme knowledge in Logick, Physicks, or Metaphysicks, as in Mathematicks.
  • 51 How wee vnderstand, discourse and dispute in Dreames.
  • 52 Whether children discourse actually, or no.
  • 53 What should be the reason, why some be more apt for vnderstanding than others.
  • 54 And why some more fitte for one Science, then others.
  • 55 Why great wits have ill memories, and good me­mories be not of profound conceit.
  • 56 Why some mens wits be excellent in speculations, [Page 304] but very simple in practize, other rare in action, and dull in speculation.
  • 57 How we remember▪
    Concerning Memory.
  • 58 In what part of the Braine resideth the formes fit for memory.
  • 59 How they be subordinated to our will.
  • 60 How we forget.
  • 61 How we conceyve things in dreames wee never see nor heard of before.
  • 62 What helpeth and hindereth Memorie, and by what manner.
  • 63 Why doth Memorie fayle in old men.
  • 64 Whether Memorie bee a facultie distinguished from our Vnderstanding, or no.
  • 65 Whether artificiall Memory impeacheth naturall Memory, or no.
  • 66 How commeth it to passe, that a man can be able to recite a long Oration, from the beginning to the end, without confusion.
  • 67 How can one recite a Psalme from the beginning to the ending, and yet shall be scarce able to prosecute one verse, if you give him it in the middest, except hee beginne agayne.
  • 68 How can possibly be conserved, without confu­sion, such an infinite number of formes in the Soule, as we see Learned men and Artificers reteyne? in what tables are they paynted? in what glasses are they to bee seene? why doth not the huge Mountayne darken little moaths in the Sunne? the formes of fire fight with the formes of water?
  • 69 How, when we would remember, can we single a Flye from the vniversity of Beastes, foules, and fish? [Page 305] how a Violet from the infinite varietie of flowers, hearbes and trees?
  • 70 What is the obiect of our Will?
    Concerning the Will.
  • 71 What Intension.
  • 72 What Election.
  • 73 What Free-will.
  • 74 When our Will fully consenteth to any thing.
  • 75 What Motives moove vs to love or hate.
  • 76 What is love, hatred, hope, desperation, feare, boldnesse, desire, abhomination, pleasure, sadnesse, ire.
  • 77 In what confisteth the particular vertues and vi­ces of the Will, what is humilitie, liberalitie, magnani­mitie, &c. all these be extreme hard to be knowne, and whereas one perhappes can guesse grossely at some de­scription, you shall have tenne thousand, who can scarce imagine what they meane.
  • 78 How the Will commandeth the toe or finger to moove, and presently they obey; the maner, or meane.
  • 79 How lower Passions of the Minde seduce and pervert the Will.
  • 80 How the wil, being blind, can make choise and e­lection of divers things, preferring one before another.

If I would follow here an other Subiect, that is, the super-naturall giftes wherewith GOD hath indued our soules, wittes, and willes, by discoursing of Faith, Hope, Charitie, and Grace, I might easily multiply this aforesayde number, with as many more, as all learned Divines will confesse, but this would both passe the li­mites I have prescribed, and also the matter whereun­to I am betaken. But let vs now descend vnto our sen­sitive appetite, wherein we may moove almost all those difficulties touched in the Will.

  • 81 How do humors of the body stirre vp Passions.
    Concerning Passions and internall sense.
  • 82 Or, why do Passions engender corporal humors.
  • 83 After what manner are Passions stirred vp.
  • 84 How they blind Reason.
  • 85 How they cease and fall away by themselves.
  • 86 Whether our coveting and invading appetites are one faculty, or two.
  • 87 How they are distinguished.
  • 88 In what subiect reside they.
  • 89 What is our fantasie or imagination.
  • 90 Where it resideth, & how it receiveth & keepeth those formes and figures which sense ministred vnto it.
  • 91 How our Vnderstanding maketh it represent vn­to it what it pleaseth.
  • 92 How our Wit can cause it conceive such obiects as sense never could present vnto it.
  • 93 Whether it contayneth more faculties then one, or no.
  • 94 How doth our eyes see, admitting something in­to them, or emitting something out of them.
  • 95 What is the obiect of our sight?
  • 96 In what part of the eye consisteth principally the vertue of seeing.
  • 97 Why do two eyes not see all things double.
  • 98 Why fixe we stedfastly our eyes vpon one thing, when we will see it exactly.
  • 99 Why doe olde men see better a farre off, than neere hand.
  • 100 Why do spectacles helpe the sight.
  • 101 And those spectacles hinder yong men, which do helpe old men.
  • 102 Why hath Nature drawne so many veiles, and [Page 307] stuffed them with humours in the eye.
  • 103 Why in the deepest cold of Winter, when the face is almost benummed with cold, yet the eye almost feeleth no alteration.
  • 104 Why cannot many abide that you looke fixe in theyr eyes.
  • 105 How commeth it to passe, that greene colours comfort eyes, and white or blacke colours spoyle them.
  • 106 Whereupon commeth such variety of colours in the cyrcle of the eyes.
  • 107 Why doth the beholding of sore eyes cause sore eyes.
  • 108▪ What is the cause that maketh every thing seeme double, if we presse the corners of our eyes.
  • 109 Why doth a Pallace, if it be quadrangle, seeme round a farre off.
  • 110 Why doe Starres in the firmament seeme to vs to twinckle, and not the Planets.

Twenty more Problemes I could set downe, about the manner of seeing, about the Pyramis, which per­spectives imagine necessary for every operation of see­ing: what those axes be, those corners greater or lesser, the manner of producing those visible formes, their concourse, their substance and wonderfull proprieties, all these affoord aboundant matter of discourse, and oc­casions of difficulties. But let vs passe a little to our hea­ring.

  • 111 What is the faculty of hearing, where it resi­deth,
    Concerning Hearing.
    and what is the obiect.
  • 112 How are sounds brought so farre off to our eares.
  • 113 What is the Eccho.
  • 114 By what manner is it made.
  • [Page 308]115 Why may we see the flame and smoake of artil­lerie aloofe off in a moment, but not perceive the sound till a good while after.
  • 116 Why those that stand below in the Church­yard, heare them better which speake above, than those which stand in the Steeple below them.
  • 117 Why do we heare better by night then by day:
  • 118 Why doth the fyling of Iron grind some mens teeth.
  • 119 For what reason corporall Musicke and Con­sortes of Instruments so ravish and abstract a spirite, a soule, transporting it almost into a Paradice of ioy.
  • 120 Why doth iarring voyces so much discontent the eare.

These Questions I might propound, but GOD knowes, who was, is, or ever shall bee able to answere them exactly; I know superficiall Schollers and vn­grounded Philosophers, who, ad pauca respicientes de fa­cili iudicant, will thinke these easie to bee resolved, be­cause they can say what they know; but that will not suffice, because the Sphere of knowledge doth infinite­ly exceede the limites of theyr capacities. As much as I have delivered in this matter, might be sayd of touch­ing, tasting, and smelling; of laughing, weeping, sigh­ing, coughing, respiring; of famine, digestion, nutriti­on, augmentation, generation; of the causes of many diseases, of infections, of fits of agues, theyr causes, courses, continuances; whence-from proceedeth the indeficient regular, and irregular beating of the pulse, the substance, scituation, correspondence, and vse of all partes of a mans body, the conversion, dispersion, per­fection and alteration of blood.

No man, I thinke, can be learned, who may not plaine­ly perceyve what an infinite matter I have propounded here of knowledge, and yet how little, even the wisest know. This subiect would have bin more apparant, if I had interlaced these questions, with diversities of opini­ons, and confirmed each one with the best grounds and arguments; but this curious sort of discourse, I leave to Schooles. Onely I will inferre our extreme Ignorance, that few or none of these difficulties, which concerne vs so neere as our soules and bodies, are throughly as yet, in my iudgement, declared, even of the profoundest wits; for I know not how their best resolutions leave still our Vnderstandings drye, thirsting for a clearer and fresher Fountaine.

VII. Ignorance and Errours in knowing base Creatures.

BYt no doubt, God is of infinite Maiestie, our soules immateriall spirits, our bodies thereunto proportio­nated, and therefore there may be some excuse preten­ded of this Ignorance; the obiects are too noble, our ca­pacities too feeble, the meanes to attayne vnto such knowledge, too difficult: our Soule dwelleth in the ta­bernacle of flesh & blood, it is drowned in humors and fatnes, it is blinded with vapours & mists, it sees thorow carnall windowes, and cloudy spectacles. Well, I admit this ignorant answere, but at least, if we cannot vnder­stand those things which be above vs, our selves, and those which be equall with vs, wee shall comprehend and fully conceyve all those Creatures beneath, which serve and obey vs. But alas! our Ignorance is not here [Page 310] finished, for I know not whether I may better say, men are ignorant of all things in generall, or know nothing in particular; for in trueth, there is no Creature in the world, that wee perfectly comprise and vnderstand: I now leave the Heavens, the Starres, the Planets, the Birds of the ayre, the Fishes of the Sea, the Beasts of the Land, and wil take one of the least creatures which cree­peth vpon the earth, and thereby convince our Igno­rance,Basil epi. 168. quae est ad Eu­nomium. as Saint Basil convinced the boasting presumpti­on of Eunomius the heretike, who vaunted that he knew GOD and his Divinity, and that shall be, a very Em­met, so little in body, so base in substance, of so small account, yet I say, that no man, how learned soever, can satisfie those demaunds which may be propounded about this contemptible beast.

1 Whether it breatheth or no.

2 If those little corps be vpheld with bones.

3 If those small members be lincked together with sinewes, or chayned with strings.

4 If those sinewes be fortified with muscles.

5 Whether downe the backe Nature extendeth a chayne, plyable to turning or bending.

6 Whether thorow the chain passeth a white marow.

7 Whether the sinowy membranes impell the rest of the body.

8 Whether it hath a Lyver, or no.

9 Whether in the Lyver a receptacle of Choler.

10 Whether a heart.

11 Whether kidneis.

12 Whether arteries.

13 Whether veines.

14 Whether skinnes.

[Page 311]15 Whether a traverse or midriffe.

16 Whether is it bare or hayrie.

17 Whether single or cloven footed.

18 How long liveth it.

19 After what manner is it begotten.

20 How long dwelleth it in the wombe.

21 Why do not al creep, but some fly, & some creepe.

All these questions are mooved by S. Basil, and hee concludeth thus, Si minutissimae formicae naturam non­dum cognitione apprehendisti, quomodo incomprehensibilis dei vim te imaginari gloriaris? If thou canst not com­prise by knowledge the nature of the least Emmet, how gloriest thou to imagine the power of the incompre­hensible God? These questions onely concerne the bo­dy of an Emet, but many more might be demaunded, and ten times more, about the sensitive soule, yet these suffice to declare the weakenesse of our Vnderstanding. Yea, I will adde an other consideration, of no smaller importance then the rest, that although as wee see by dayly experience, many men study night and day, po­ring forth their braines and eies vpon their bookes, yet I am of opinion, that if we could see the opinions, even of the best learned man in the world, with as plaine per­spicuitie, as we discerne blacke from white, wee should find in his vnderstanding more errours then truethes, more falsities then verities, more ignorances then scien­ces, more that ought to be forgotten, then is well lear­ned; finally more chaffe then corne, (I alwayes except matters of faith and religion.) The reasons which in­duce me to this opinion, are these. First, I see such varieties of opinions even among the profoundest wittes, that ever the worlde yeelded, (whose [Page 312] writings are extant) about the selfe samething, one con­tradicting and condemning another, both bringing strong reasons to confirme their opinions; one or both must needes erre, the Trueth being one and indivisible. Secondly, I perceyve the same profound Scholers, at one time defending with many reasons one opinion, and after, with as great boldnesse impugning the same, retracting the former. And why, I pray you, may they not erre the second time, as well as the first? for I war­rant you, they thought they had as great evidence & as­surance before, as they presently possesse. And why may they not as well reclayme agayne, as they did before? You will say, secundae cogitationes be prudentiores, and wise men recall their former errors. And I pray you, are not tertiae and quartae prudentissimae? After a sleepe vp­on the pillow, many correct their dayly thoughts: doth not one day teach another? Wherefore I see no reason; why wise men may not, in their retractation as wel erre, as in their former assent. Thirdly, the Scriptures seeme to insinuate little lesse, Cunctae res difficiles, non potest ho­mo Eccles. 1. eas explicare sermone. All things are difficult, neither can man declare them with speech: and after speaking of God he saith, mundū tradidit &c. he delivered the worldIdem. cap. 3. to their disputation, that man should not finde out the work which God had wrought from the beginning to the end.

VIII. Curiositie in knowing things not necessarie.

AN other generall defect and imperfection procee­ding from Nature corrupted, and tending to cor­ruption, followeth all the Sonnes of Adam, and that is a [Page 313] certaine naturall curiosity, a diligent inquisition of o­ther mens actions, and an extreame negligence in our owne: moale-hilles in other men seeme mountaynes, and craggie rockes in our selves smooth rushes: other mens faults be before our eyes, but our owne behinde our backs. It is a world to see with what rigor and parti­alitie men censure others actions, & with what smooth countenance they conceale their owne defects. Let vs not looke any further but to David, who never was angrie with himselfe for killing Vrias, and abusing his wife; but straitwayes, after that Nathan had propoun­ded2. Reg. 12. the case in farre inferiour degree, of the taking of a sheepe, he was presently moved with indignation, and condemned the offender to death: the reason why we iudge more quickly other mens faults than our owne, partly proceeds from selfe-love, which blindeth vs in our owne actions, partly, because we see other mens de­fects directly, and our owne by a certayne reflexion; for, as no man knoweth exactly his owne face, because he never see it, but by reflection from a glasse, and other mens countenances he conceiveth most perfitly, be­cause he vieweth them directly, and in themselves; even so, by a certaine circle we wind about our selves, where­as by a right line we passe into the corners of other mens soules, at least, by rash iudgements and sinister suspitions. Galen to this purpose relateth Aesop, whoGalen. de cog­anim. morb. ca. 2. sayd we had every one of vs a wallet hanged vpon our shoulders, the one halfe vpon our breasts, the other halfe vpon our backs: the former was full of other mens faults, which we continually beheld: the part behind was loaden with our offences, which we never regar­ded. And he sayth, that Plato rendred a reason of this: [Page 314] for every man is blind towards that thing he loveth, and therefore one extremely loving himselfe, is most blind in censuring himselfe. Therefore I am of opinion in this poynt with Socrates, that as sober men oughtPlutarch. in Moraribus. especially to take heed of those dishes and cates which allure and provoke them to eating, although they be not hungry, and those drinckes which intice them to drinke, howbeit they be not thirstie: so those shewes, speeches, and companies principally ought to be avoy­ded, which vrge them to desire things impertinent, and to iudge rashly without discretion; because, to examine, and to be inquisitive of our owne faults can be never vnprofitable, but to spie into other mens actions, rarely or never can be profitable, except it be superiours or per­sons in authoritie, Scrutemur, sayth Ieremie) vias nostras, Thren. 3. 40. but he sayth not, aliena [...]: Yea, Saint Paul forbiddeth, Tu quis es qui iudicas alienum s [...]rvum. Rom. 14. 4.

This engrafted curiosity extendeth not only his briarie branches, wrapping them about other mens affaires, lives, and conversations, but also to those secrets, oracles, and mysteries, which farre exceede mens capacities, or are so vnprofitable, that the commoditie men reape by them, will not countervaile the labor and paine spent in procuring, effecting, or obtayning of them. Nihil (saythChrysost. hom. 9. in 1. ad Thessa. Saint Chrysost.) ita curiosum est & avidum ad rerum ob­scurarum & reconditarū cognitionem vt humana natura, Nothing is so curious and thirstie after knowledge of darke and obscure matters, as the nature of man. Hence­from came those voices, Altiora te ne quaesieris, & fortiora Eccle. 3. 22. te ne scrutatus fueris: sed quae praecepit tibi Deus illa cogita semper: & in pluribus operibus eius ne fueris curiosus, non est enim tibi necessariū ea quae abscondita sunt videre oculis [Page 315] tuis. In supervacuis rebus noli scrutari multipliciter & in pluribus operibus eius non eris curiosus. Things deeper than thee, inquire not after, and stronger than thee, search not; but thinke alwayes vpon those things which God hath commaunded thee; and in many of his works be not curious, for it is not necessary for thee to see with thy eyes those things which be hid: in super­fluous matters wade not too much, and in many of his works be not curious.

And by a similitude Salomon declareth well this mat­ter,Prov. 25. 27. Sicut qui mel multum comedit non est ei bonum, sic qui scrutator est maiestatis, opprimetur à gloria: As it is not good for him that eateth much hony, so the sear­cher of maiestie shall be oppressed with glorie. Saint Paule perceiving this curiositie in his time, willed Ti­mothie 1. Tim. 1. 4. to perswade men that they should not intend their mindes to fables and endlesse genealogies. Wee have in these our miserable dayes, as curious a genera­tion as ever was clasped vnder the cope of Heaven: for, what vaine studies, exercise (for most part) our iudicia­rie Astronomers, by calculating nativities, foretelling events, prescribing the limits of mens lives, foreshewing their perills and dangers; but meere cosinage, and vaine curiosity? How many labour night and day, spend their times and livings, in Alchymie, in searching forth that matchlesse stone which they never see, receiving no other lucre than a continuall baite to feed curiositie? Who would not have registred him among curious fooles, which labored so many yeres to make a shirt of male with rings of wood, fit for no mans profit or good? Who wil not admire our nice Dames of London, who must have Cherries at twenty shillings a pound, & [Page 316] Pescods at five shillings a pecke, husks without pease, yong Rabbets of a spanne, and Chickins of an inch: from whence proceedeth this gulling ambition? this spoyling of the croppe? this devouring and gorman­dizing of the common-weale, but from a gluttonous curiositie? I leave off curious gardens, sundry fashions of apparell, glorious buildings, which all be of-springs of curious pride. And to conclude, I will say, that not onely lust, but meere curiositie hath caused many men and women to leese their honestie.

IX. Of vaine discoursing.

WIth an other imperfection mens soules are branded, and no man I will free from it; how­beit I thinke it concerneth especially the wisest. This defect is a certayne vayne and chimerizing discoursing, by which men build Castels in the ayre, and frame vnto themselves mountaynes of gold. To this I reduce the vayne conceits and opinions they faine of themselves, bordering neere vnto Idolatrie, because few men there be which spend not much time, in admiring them­selves, ever esteeming more than they deserve: and I know not how, ascribing such excellencie, that they seeme indued with some sparke of Divinitie; for who is he that will confesse any man so compleate as himselfe in every thing? which singularitie argueth affectation of a pettie deitie.

Besides, men consume very frivolously much time, studie, and meditation, and for the most part, needelesse in their owne designements, casting with themselves wayes of preferments, profit, pleasure, credit, and repu­tation [Page 317] in offices, which (God knoweth) they are farre off, yet they feed themselves with fancies. I omit what plodding vse all appassionate persons, to bring to effect their inordinate affections, as revengers of iniuries, am­bitious, lascivious, envious men; for questionles they spend their best houres, and purest spirits, for the most part, in meere fantasticall discoursing.

Moreover, it is a woonder, to see what paynes many men bestowe, in confirming their preconceived errors. I know some Philosophers and Divines most obslinate in their opinions, and yet they studie most earnestly to establish them, which in very deede, I see evidently to be false and erroneous; yet such a defect we carry with vs, that errours once drunke vp, are quickly converted into nature, and consequently sealed vp with vitious habites.

X. Of Distractions.

AS the earth vnmanured bringeth foorth brambles and briars, with many stincking weedes; and ma­nured, also springeth forth here and there darnell and cockle: even so our vnderstanding, if it be ill guided, yeeldeth, not only vayne discourses, if it be ill guided, yeeldeth, not only vayne discourses, but also in the mid­dest of most serious meditations, it blasteth foorth ma­ny impertinent distractions: what exercise can be more holy than prayer? and where occurre more imperti­nent thoughts, than in the heate of such an holy exer­cise? the which imperfection Saint Ierome feeling andHieron. in dia­l go adversus Lu. [...]serianos. lamenting, sayd, Nunc creberrimè, &c. Now most often in my prayer I walke in galleries, now I reckon my gaines, or withdrawne by some vncleane thought, I do [Page 318] those things, which are shamefull to be spoken. Abra­ham could not offer sacrifice vnto God, but with one hand; he was constrayned to warde his offring from the molestfull crowes, which were about him, ready to carry it away.

Alas! how often do the infernall kites seize vpon our soules, and hinder the holy sacrifices of our prayers, by impertinent thoughts? In the depth of studies, how oft do we proove, that idle cogitations distract our minds, and inforce them to wander in forraine countries, in such sort, as although the body be consistent in one place, yet the soule runneth like a vag [...]ant person, or ra­ther, slieth from country to country, and almost in a mo­ment sayleth over the immensive Ocean Sea? where­vpon ensueth, that the vse of a mans soule lieth not in his owne hands, because his actions be subiect vnto so many interruptions; which proceede, eyther from the malignitie of the Divell; the vehemence of some pas­sion; a strong imagination and deepe impression; or an inconstant mind desirous of varietie and alteration.

The Defects and Imperfections of our Willes.

NOt only the land, by the vniversall course of God, was plagued with sterilitie, and vnprofitable of­springs, but also the Sea bordering vpon the Land, with horrible tempests, mists, rocks, shelves, and other mise­rable dangers, whereupon poore Marriners miscarrie: even so, not only our vnderstanding, by that bitter Apple which edged all mens teeth, was distasted by ignorance, and infected with errours, but also, our wills [Page 319] were troubled with tempests of wicked inclinations, and shelves of vitious perversitie, whereupon soules pe­rish, and fall into eternall calamitie.

Difficultie to do well.

ONe huge rocke I finde in this vast Ocean of our boundlesse Will, common to all men, (and where­vnto all others may be reduced) yet not in like degree; I meane an exceeding difficultie to do well: our vnder­standings (I confesse) must labor to find out the truth, but no labour to be compared with the labor to do good; few beasts you have which do themselves more ill than good, and as few men which do themselves not more ill than good. Were it not a miracle, to see a migh­tie huge stone ascend by it selfe above all the cloudes, or the Sunne descend to the earth? Yes doubtlesse: but why were this a myracle? Because a stone by nature is inclined to descend, and the Sunne to rowle about the world; therefore it were a wonder to see them move a­gainst their owne inclinations. As great and as strange a marvell it might seeme, to see our wills so prone to vice, to descend to the vayne pleasures and delights of the flesh, because these motions are most opposite to their naturall and principall inclination: for no wise man can be ignorant how the chiefest force of our will bendeth to follow the rule of reason, prosecute vertue and hone­stie, detest vice and iniquitie: therefore to follow ver­tue is connaturall, to affect vice a vitious miracle. Not­withstanding we daily try what difficultie we find in the narrow way to goodnes, and what extreame facilitie in the broad way of wickednes: for one man that is vertu­ous, [Page 320] how many thousands are vitious? Whereupon commeth this notable excesse? Of the extreme difficul­tie mē find in doing well, which deterreth the most part of them from it: the rootes of vertue, sayeth one, are bitter, and therefore delicate lips will not taste them: well-willers of vertue must resist flesh and blood, which worldlings so beastly pamper, and cruelly cherrish. Yet I know some would desire to vnderstand from whence proceedeth this wonderfull difficultie [...] we all prove to do well, the reason which may moove a man to doubt, questionlesse, deserveth good consideration; for if we that be Christians well expend what meanes we have to do good, and what to do ill, we shall finde that these be fewer in number, and weaker in force and efficacie, then the other, the which I thought good briefly to set downe, partly to declare our wilfulnes and perversitie, who having so many meanes, will not vse them: partly to remember the Reader, that hereafter he may benefit himselfe of them, and be confounded for his misdemeanour in them.

We are moved to do well; First by the law of na­ture imprinted in our harts like a lanterne, or a torch, to direct vs in the darkenes of the continuall night of this miserable life.

2 Our will principally bendeth to follow this lawe, as our hands and feet the direction of our eyes.

3 The remorce of conscience, which in the very act of sinning, keepeth the watch of our soules, adviseth vs by barking, that enimies are present: and after that we have sinned, how the wall is broken, and consequently opened to the invasion of infernall theeves.

4 The infamie and discredit which waiteth vpon [Page 321] vice, for such aversion all men by nature carry in theyr minds from sinne, that no man can esteeme in his heart, or love truely any vitious man.

5 We see in every good common-weale vertuous men preferred, esteemed, and accounted of, and there­fore honos alit artes, why then should not credit and re­putation nourish and augment vertue?

6 By naturall discourse a man may well perceive how the oyle of his carnall Lampe dayly consumeth, the naturall heate vanisheth, death approacheth, and therefore why should not the vicinitie and certaintie of death cause him to leade a vertuous life?

7 All states and kingdomes, ordered by lawes, and governed by reason, appoynt punishments for vices, ac­cording to their qualities; for what meane prisons, stocks, fetters, gives, racks, gallowes, hatchets, but to warne vs that their creation was for sinnes extirpation?

8 Nothing can have more force to allure a man to do well, than the peace and tranquillitie of the minde, a quiet and serene conscience, is iuge convivium, this we gayne by vertue, this we leese by vice.

9 The Infidels, brought vp in the mistie fogges of infidelity, conceived a terrour of their gods iudgement, thinking them ready to punish their sins, and condemne their offences; which feare even nature teacheth vs when we offend, that God being most iust, will not per­mit vnpunished iniustice.

10 And did not the same Infidells expect Elizian fields as Paradises of pleasure, wherein was layd, by the author of nature, a reward for those who had not abused nature? but grace being above nature, affordeth vs more motives to vertue, more helps to flie vice.

11 What adamant heart can be so hardned with vice, that the blood of Christ shall not breake? why was he drawne vp the Crosse, but to draw vs to vertue from vice? Why cryed he, longe à salute mea verba delictorum, but because he crucified indeede our sinnes in his owne body, which in vaine before without vertue of this pas­sion had been washed with blood of goats and calves?

12 The Sacraments of his Church, those fountaines of grace, those conduits of his passion, those heavenly medicines, those linckes and chaynes wherewith the members of Christes church are vnited in religion; for what other effect were they instituted, than for the watering of our soules to the encrease of vertue, and the whole supplanting of vice?

13 The internall gifts of God, the armour of Faith, Hope, and Charitie, with graces and favors, wherewith the holy ghost endueth our soules, fortifie vs against vice, and habilitate exceedingly to vertue.

14 The manifold inspirations of God, the illustrations of his holy Angels, which stand in battell aray to defend vs, tend to no other end, than to perswade vs to vertue, and disswade vs from vice.

15 Why hath God provided so many teachers and preachers, but to be so many watchmen over the house of Israel, to cry like Trumpets, and blaze the sinnes of the house of Iacob, lest by wallowing in wickednesse they reclaime no more to goodnesse.

16 The holy scriptures were written with the finger of God, as Registers of his eternall will, letters of love to invite vs to vertue, and threatnings of ire, to dehort vs from vice, therein, by more sure authoritie he deli­vereth vnto vs whatsoever he had written more ob­scurely [Page 323] in the booke of Nature, perswading, directing, counselling to goodnes, pietie, and religion: disswa­ding, diverting, threatning, and terrifying from vice, impietie, and vngodlines: wherefore one of the chie­fest scopes, for which the sacred Volume was sent from Heaven, was to make vs decline from evill, and do good, dye to old Adam, and live with Christ, crucifie sinne, and follow vertue.

17 God, by his infinite wisedome and charitie, gave vs, not only teachers in words, but also actors in deeds; not only them who filled our eares with godly perswa­sions, but also them which represented vertue most lively to our eyes, with good examples and holy acti­ons: so were the lives of Saintes in all ages as so manyOrig. libr. 1. in Iob & Grego. ibid. Starres, which gave vs light how to walke in the darke­nesse of this life; and so many spurres to pricke vs for­ward, that we should not linger in so divine a voyage. Their fervent charitie reprehendeth our tepiditie, their diligence in Gods service, our negligence, their wat­ching and praying, our sluggishnes and indevotion.

18 If there were a Kings sonne of most beautifull countenance and divine aspect resembling his father as much as a sonne could doe: who would not iudge this Prince both inhumane and mad, if he would cut, mangle, and disgrace his owne face with grieslie woundes, and vgly formes? What an iniurie were this against his father, what an offence against all his parents? Even such crueltie vse sinners to them­selves and God: because by sinning they deface and mangle that lively Image of the holy Trinitie, drawne by God himselfe in the substance of theyr soules, and so are iniurious, not onely to themselves, but also [Page 324] to their God, their Father, their King, the holy and in­divided Trinitie.

19 Who spoyleth Gods Temple, is accounted irreli­gious, who prophaneth his Church, is thought sacrili­gious: and who but he which hath lost all sparks of pie­tie dare adventure to attempt so heinous a crime? Yet Vitious adventure and performe it, they prophane their bodyes and soules, they fell them to lust and wicked­nesse, they expell the holy ghost from them, they put him forth of his iust possession which he holdeth over them as a Father by vertue, and after by wicked deserts enforce him as a iudge, like prisoners, to iayle them by iustice.

20 Those which live in Christs true Catholike Church by communion of Saints, enioy an other meane to doe well, and that is, the common prayers and supplicati­ons of the faithfull, which beate continually at the gates of Gods mercy, and doubtlesse returne not voyde a­gayne; for many petitions God hardly can deny.

21 A dioyne hereunto the supernaturall providence of God, which feedeth the foule of the ayre, and cloa­theth the lillies of the field, the which being so carefull of vnreasonable creatures, what shall we thinke he doth to the faithfull? questionlesse, he neither will sleepe nor slumber that watcheth the house of Israel, he will keepe his servants as the apple of his eye, he will give them meate in due season, he will finally sustaine their weake­nesse, erect them if they fall, direct them if they erre, succour them if they want, refresh them in the heates of concupiscences, mittigate the tempests of their temp­tations, moderate the waves of wicked occasions.

22 The horrible paines of Hell thundred in holy Writ, the weeping and gnashing of teeth, the woorme which will gnaw perpetually vpon the very heart of the soule, with remorce of conscience: those inextinguible flames of infernall fornaces, that cruell hatred of griesly Divels and vgly hell-hounds: those remedilesse paines and tor­ments without hope of recoverie, remission, or mittiga­tion; and above all, that privation and losse of the sight of the face of God, prepared for all those that would serve him in sanctitie and holinesse of life: all these evils, cer­tainely to be incurred, I thinke, might move sufficiently any wise man to looke about him, what he doth, whe­ther he goeth, what reckoning he must make, for these be not May-games, or Esops fables, but sacred truths re­gistred in Scriptures, dayly put in execution, hourely felt, and of every wicked man to be prooved.

23 If God had onely terrified vs from sinne with in­explicable paynes, every discreete man might have had sufficient cause to abhorre it: but besides, having invited vs to vertue, by promising ineffable ioyes, who can now excuse vs? what can we pretend? With reward he pricks vs forward, with torments he drawes vs back­ward, he bridles our wantonnesse with one, and spurres on our slouthfulnesse with the other.

24 Vertue of it selfe, even naked, if neither reward had been promised, nor punishment threatned, might suffi­ciently have mooved vs to love her, and follow her, be­cause she carrieth such a shew of honestie, such inter­nall beautie, such a grace and excellencie, that her pos­session may be thought a sufficient remuneration.

25 The horrible punishments mentioned in Scrip­tures inflicted for sinne, even in this life (if we had [Page 326] grace) might inforce vertue vpon vs; for what cast A­dam out of Paradise? Sinne: what wounded him in na­ture, and spoyled him of grace? Sinne: what drowned the world? Sinne: what rained fire and brimstone from heaven vpon those infamous citties of Sodome and Go­morrha? Sinne: many examples more I could bring out of the old Testament, as deaths of private men & Prin­ces, submersions of armies, dispersions of Countries, mortalitie of thousands, famin, warres, & plagues, capti­vities, and imprisonments, for no other cause inflicted than wickednesse and sinne: but let vs only fixe our eies vpon the Sonne of God nayled vpon the Crosse, and we shall see how sinne mangled his body and afflicted his soule; those nayles, teares, streames of blood, excla­mations, gall, and paines are monuments of sinne, and memories of our perverse and wicked life.

26 Above all other evils incident to an evill life, of great force to restraine our vntoward willes from vice, is the extreame iniurie we offer to God by sinne, trans­gressing his lawe, perverting his order, disposition, and providence, iniuring his infinite goodnes, which ought of all creatures to be beloved, despising his Maiestie, to which, as to their last end, all men ought to direct their actions. And finally, shewing our selves vngratefull to his love, the which ought to be affected with all sub­mission, obedience, and gratitude.

27 What can more deterre men from wickednesse then their owne private losse, or move them more to vertue then their owne present gaine? By vice our soules are spoyled of their riches, their most precious robes, & heavenly attire; by vertue they are apparelled: by vice they are wounded even to the centre; by vertue [Page 327] they are healed: by vice they are impoverished; by ver­tue enriched: by vice they are defiled; by vertue clean­sed: by vice they become dennes of devils; by vertue seates of Angels.

28 But some will obiect, the soule is spirituall, and her losses cannot so well be perceived, but if we had some palpable & sensible motives to draw vs from vice to vertue, then the case would be altered. But sensible reasons want not, and no day or hower passeth wherein appeareth not some silent sermon or reall perswasion, to avoyd sinne, and follow goodnes. Do we not see dayly men dye? is not death of the body caused by the death of the soule? is it not an effect of Adams originall dis­obedience? Whence-from proceed so many diseases, plagues, and pestilences, that Phisitians braines are trou­bled to know their number, for the multitude, or reduce them to method, they are so disordered. But say, what brought first hunger and thirst, sweate and labour, toy­ling and moyling into this world, but our forefathers gluttonie? What made so many poore men, such a number of beggars, but Adams originall theft? what causeth our dayes to be so short, that many drop away in the very prime of their yeeres? few come to the time their complexion requireth; the strongest scarce arri­veth to a hundred yeeres, but our progenitours inordi­nate appetite of Divinitie, and consequently of eter­nitie? finally, the terror of death ever imminent, the dayly crosses in common conversation, the distonsor­ted courses of the heavens, with their influences, tem­pests and stormes, contrary to the generation and increase of fruites of the earth, the disobedience of beasts, the cruelty of men, the craft and cosinage we [Page 328] dayly prove, all descend from sinne, and well admonish vs, that if one sinne deserved so many, so long, so great punishments, what will a multitude?

29 Wicked men do not only by offences iniurie the maiestie of God, but also they abuse his gifts and bene­fits, not only, like Scorpions they kill their mother be­fore they be hatched, but also, like vngratefull debtours, oppugne their creditours with their own goods: for the vngodly vse that will God gave them to love him, to hate him; that wit he bestowed vpon them to meditate vpon his law & commandements, they pervert, by thin­king how to transgresse them: that hart he imparted to affect their neighbours in pure love and charitie, that they defile with malice and dishonestie; that tongue he lent them to vtter his prayses, that they blot with othes and blasphemies; those hands he framed as flowing conduits to feede the poore, those are wholy imployed to avarice and rapine; and to be briefe, that vniversall body and soule which ought to have bin kept in holines and sanctification, they abuse to offend God with sinne and prevarication.

30 To conclude, all creatures which God created for the vse of man, and as servants, attended vpon him as their maister; all they (I say) exclaime against a vitious life, they are so many trumpets, which cease not to sound the abuses we offer them, by offending their Ma­ker: the Sunne giveth the light to worke works of light, & not to live in the shadow of darknes: the Moone with her fecunditie inviteth thee to bring forth fruites of iu­stice, and not iniquitie: the harmonie of the heavens, the multitude, varietie, brightnes of so many Starres and Planets, exhort thee to subordinate thy soule [Page 329] to God, to adorne thy minde with vertue, to give good example, and shine vnto men by a godly conversation:Isay 24. 23. for otherwise, in signe of revenge, before the day ofMat. 24. 29. iudgement, they will withdraw theyr beames, fall from heaven vpon thee, shew themselves as disdainefull to be­holdMark. 13. 24. sinners, as sinners were carelesse to enioy the be­nefite of their influences and operations, to the gloryWisd 5 18. Armabit crea­turam ad vltio­nem immico­rum. of God and the profite of their soules.

By this it appeareth, what abundance of meanes God hath imparted to vs, to the intent all difficulties in the way of Vertue, might with facility bee over-com­med: some be internall, some externall, some of grace, some of nature, some instructing the vnderstanding, some inclining the affection, some continuall, some by turnes: and to be briefe, no man can say that God hath beene a niggard with him, but that he hath beene vnan­swerable to God.

The Impediments to Vertue.

MAn in this world standeth in the middest betwixt God and the divell, both pretend to win him to their Kingdomes; God to eternall pleasure, Sathan to e­ternall payne; God by his power could quickely deliver him, and breake all the bondes and chaynes wherewith the divell did or doth bind him: but his wisedome thought good, not to admit any man of wisedome and discretion to his friendship without his own [...] consent; for as Saint Augustine saith, Qui creavit te sine te, non iustificabit te sine te: He that created thee without thee (that is, thy consent or cooperation) will not iustifie thee without thee (that is, thy consent & cooperation.) [Page 330] Wherefore wee see Christ in Scriptures so often asked them whom he cured in body, and healed in soule, Vis Iohn 5. 6. Mat. 9. 2. & 22. Luke 8. 50. sanus esse? confide, crede, and such like speeches, which signifie, that hee would not cure any, but them, who were willing: wherefore God would not oppose all his power and might against our ghostly enemies, but one­ly such sweete meanes as might procure our assent, and yet able to overthrow all the troupes of our adversaries: he beats at the doores, and we with his grace must openApoc. 3. 20. Mat. 23. 37. them, he calleth vs, as the hen her chickens, and we must runne to shrowd vnder his winges; hee inviteth vs toMat. 11. 29. beare his yoake, and we must carry it with him: finally, so many perswasions, exhortations, promises, and pray­ers pregnantly proove, that not we, nor God alone must overcome the forces of our enemies, but we with God, and God with vs. Therefore, since wee have declared what meanes God hath granted vs to fight with the di­vell, let vs see now what stratagems and deceits the divel vseth to daw vs from God to a perpetuall thraldome and slavery in Hell.

The first Impediment is, the Sugge­stions of the Divell.

FIrst, the Divell immediatly by his suggestions allu­reth vs to sin, he being a spirite, by secret meanes can enter into the former part of our braine, and there chop and change our imaginations: he can represent pleasures with a goodly shew; he can propound Vertue as a most bitter obiect; he can make vs slothful in the way of God; by stirring the humors, altering the blood, which cause a tedious loathsomnesse in vs. His craft is admirable, his [Page 331] malice extreame, his experience long, his forces migh­ty, his darts invisible, and indeed, so strong, that if we were not assisted by Gods providence, & the ministery of his holy Angelles, it were not possible to resist him. Yet I doubt not, but Gods good Angells helpe vs more to Vertue, then the wicked spirits incite vs to vice; be­cause questionlesse, the charitie of them, exceedeth the malice of these: whereunto if wee adioyne the provi­dence of God, in restraining and limitating the Divels power, as we see he restrayned him in tempting of Iob, there can be no comparison.

The second Impediment is, ill Education.

WEare also haled to vice, by ill Education, for as I have sayde before, all our youth-time wee give our selves to pastime and play, living like so many bruite beasts, engendering, and daily encreasing a num­ber of vitious habites, which, ere we come to the vse of discretion, are made so connaturall, that vice seemeth more conformable to Nature than Vertue. Yet the principall inclination of our Soules to Reason, so ma­ny Vertues given vs of God, so many giftes bestowed vpon vs by the holy Ghost, much more forcibly moove vs to goodnesse, than vitious habites to wickednesse: for Vertue inclineth more vehemently than Vice, and Grace overcommeth Nature.

The third Impediment is, wicked Conversation.

ILl Examples, and vngodly Conversation, imprinted in tender yeeres, and weake soules, take such roote, that hardly after they can be supplanted: this we see by experience, that as those speake, with whom children converse, purely, or barbarously, Latine, Greeke, or En­glish, so children learne: even in like manner, as those live, youth live, and frame their manners; according to their conditions. Wherefore holy Writ hath instructed vs, that as a man vseth wise or foolish company, so hee shall become himselfe foolish or wise. Qui cum sapien­tibus Proverb. 13. graditur sapiens erit, amicus stultorum similis efficie­tur. A man therefore being brought vp among wicked men, for most part accommodateth himselfe to theyr humours; the reason is, not onely, because, as men per­swade by words, so they doe much more by deeds, eve­ry action being a silent perswasion (our eyes perceiving theyr obiects more certaynely then our eares) but also for that many examples, I knowe not howe, come at length, to breede such impressions in men, that even vi­ces seeme Vertues. Let vs not seeke very farre for tryall, but even at home; sometimes I have seene Tarleton play the Clowne, and vse no other breeches, than such sl [...]s or slivings, as now many Gentlemen weare▪ they are al­most capable of a bushell of wheate, and if they be of sacke-cloth, they would serve to carry Mawlt to the Mill. This absurd, clownish and vnseemely attyre, only by custowe now, is not misliked, but rather approoved. The like I might say of long steepled hattes; of going [Page] naked in Baths and washing places, yea in every place, as in the Indiaes; because the vse of many seemeth to take away all abuse.

Now therefore to our purpose, since most men are vitious, and few men vertuous, by evill examples wee are vehemently inticed to vice and wickednesse. Ne­verthelesse wee may oppose many good men with whow we live: the examples of Christ, and his Apostles dayly preached and teached, cannot but countervayle the examples of men, eyther voyde of reason, or religi­on; for who is hee, but eyther an Atheist or a foole, which will immitate an others vices contrary to lawe, conscience and reason, onely because he seeth many do so? Who will not condemne him as an Idiote, who sayd, hee would erre with many for company? Who would not iudge him an Atheist, who vaynely vaunted he would go to Hell with so many Gallants, rather then to Heaven with poore Fishers: these reasons are as voyd of wit, as destitute of piety.

The fourth Impediment is, corrup­ted Bookes.

THe worlde leadeth vs to sinne, not onely, by trayning vs vp vitiously, and inticing vs by [...] examples, but also, by suggesting vnto vs [...]any occasions of ill, by obscenous and naughty Bookes, as light and wanton Poets, as Machivellian policies, the Arte of coniuring, and such other dregges of mens wittes, and of-springs vngodly affections: to these if you adioyne many shewes, stage-playes, and such im­pure exercises, which tende to the manifest overthrow [Page] of tender Soules, you shall have a troupe of souldiers, or rather robbers, serving the worlde, to winne a King­dome.

Indeed I must confesse, that these books and exercises corrupt extreamely all good manners, and with a silent perswasion insinuate their matter vnto the chiefe affecti­on and higest part of the Soule, and in all good Com­mon-weales, are either wholy prohibited, or so circum­cised, that no such hurt followeth, as some by stealth purchase, and by a wilfull theft robbe their owne soules of grace and goodnesse: yet agaynst these Pamphlets, I oppose thousands of spiritual Volumes, the holy Scrip­tures, sermons, exhortations, homilies, meditations, prayer-bookes, which surpasse the other in number, in efficacie, in learning, and therefore those ought not to bee compared with these.

The fift Impediment is, of Passions.

THe flesh molesteth vs in the service of God, with an army of vnruly Passions, for the most part, with­drawing from goodnes, and haling to ilnesse, they tosse and turmoyle our miserable soules, as tempests & waves the Ocean sea, the which never standeth quiet, but ey­ [...] in ebbing or flowing, either winds do buzze about it, or raynes alter it, or earthquakes shake it, or [...] tyrannize over it: even so our soules are puffed vp with selfe-love; shaken with feare, now they be flowing with concupiscences and desires, and presently ebbing with desperation and sadnesse: ioy altereth the minde, and ire tyrannizeth and consumeth both body and minde.

Against the garboyle of these tumultuous Passions, I [Page 335] oppose the barking, byting and gnawing of a wounded conscience, which wayteth continually vpon inordi­nate Passions: I oppose the law of Nature, the brevity of all pleasures; for no Passion can long content the minde, but even a gust of pleasure gulleth the soule, and so cloyeth it, that the very dainties seeme loath­some: Nam ab assuetis non fit Passio: If hereunto you adde so many diseases, so many disgraces, such infamy, which commonly accompany exorbitant Passions. You shall find that they have no such efficacy to pervert vs, as the other to convert vs.

The sixt Impediment is, of Inconstancie.

MOst men feele in themselves a certayne Inconstan­cy, whereby they become wonderfull various, and fickle in theyr owne estates, exercises and manner of living: for if we discourse vniversally about the na­ture of man, we shall finde him continually, as it were in a cyrcle, that is, winding about pleasures, or flying paynes, and after a small while returning to them a­gayne. For example, who live in Citties, desire to en­ioy a while the Countrey, and those that possesse the free ayre of the Countrey, wish the sights of Citties; and both, after a while, loath that they most desired, and would returne to theyr former estates: and then, af­ter awearied of them, they renue theyr desires, and ef­fectuate their purposes; the selfe same we proove in sen­ses, wee see greene fields, beautifull pallaces, pleasant gardens. But not long time this obiect will content vs: shortly after, the eyes beeing satiated, then our eares must bee delighted with Musicke: and after they are [Page 336] loathed, then must we have varieties of meates; the sto­macke being filled, then followeth rest, then sight, talke, or such like exercises as wee vsed before: and after this manner we rowle vp and downe Gods creatures, ever thyrsting, and never content: even so in the servyce of God; for our soules herein consort with our bodyes, which are feeble, and tender in youth, but grow till they come to a certayne perfection, the which once obtay­ned, they returne agayne to theyr former imperfections, ever fading, consuming and resolving, till they come to their finall decreement, and as great weakenesse as they begunne withall. In spirite and minde many beginne to doe well, but after a while they loathe the very Manna of Heaven; the best and most precyous liquors of Pa­radice savour not to them, they seeme taynted, they be­ginne in spirit, and finish in flesh, they follow God, but after a while they sigh for onyons of Egypt. And I needes must say, that this inconstancy hath caused ma­ny soules miscarry, and those which seemed to have en­tred the gates of Paradice, fell most miserably into the dungeon of Hell.

This inconstancy raigneth not onely over the soule,A certayne contrariety in the soule hin­dereth men from good­nesse. at divers times, as now the Sea ebbeth, now floweth, now is tempestuous, now calmed, but at the selfe same time, it will, and will not, loveth and hateth, affecteth God and his enemies, the slesh and the world; not vn­like to two contrary winds, which at the selfe same time tosse the clowdes, one beneath, an other above, one in­to the East, the other into the West, the which conten­tion Saint Paul felt well, when he sayde, Sentio aliam le­gem in membris meis repugnantem legi mentis meae: andAug. lib. 8. co [...]sess. cap. 10. S. Augustine in resolving himselfe to serve God, sayd, [Page 337] Nec planè volebam, nec plenè nolebam, ideo mecum conten­debam: but as he had pronounced before, Ego eram qui volebam, ego qui nolebam: for indeede the lower part of the soule draweth the will one way, and reason haleth another, so that in the selfe same will there is a double motion, the one to vertue, the other to vice, even as the Philosophers say, the lower heavens are mooved from West to East by their proper motions, and from East to West by the force of the first mooved or highest hea­ven.

But against this Inconstancy, I can oppose many meanes to goodnesse, of greater force and efficacy, the which can more constantly further vs to goodnesse, then inconstancy can incite vs to ilnesse: have we not registred in holy Writ, and sounding alwayes in our eares, the inexplicable ioyes of Heaven promised to Vertue, and the terrible paynes of Hell threatned to vice? Will not the feare of Gods iudgement, which hourely we attend, enforce vs to watch and pray, lest we be taken at vnawares? May not the incertainty of our deaths, moove vs to a constancy in life? Will not so many warnings of death, iudgement, hell, heaven, so often inculcated, sufficiently stirre vs vp to stand vpon our warde? Cannot so many stayes of grace vphold and stay the inconstancy of Nature? Howe many are with­holden from wickednesse, onely thorow terror of tem­porall punishment, and shall not so many terrors coun­tervaile a fickle and inconstant inclination? Where lyeth the anchor of Hope, and the vnmooveable grounds of Faith and charity?

The seventh Impediment is, discontentment of our owne Estate.

AN other Impediment I thinke most men feele at one time or other, which hindereth not a little the the progresse of Vertue; and it is, that none can be con­tented with their owne estates: we perceive not onely a warre or battell in our mindes, but also a certayne dis­contentment in our selves, whereupon broke foorth those saying, Nemo sorte sua contentus, laudet diversa se­quentes: wee may be well compared to certayne sicke men, who would ever be changing theyr beds, yet they never finde rest, for that the cause of theyr griefe lyeth not in the beds, but in their bodies: the reason why men live so discontented with their owne estates, proceedeth from many crosses, which every state, condition, exer­cise, or office carrieth with it; besides, the often exerci­sing of one thing engendreth fatiety, and therefore al­wayes Nature affecteth variety. Against this tediousnes and loathing life, many great helps I can obiect; for, those which attend indeed to serve God, find a certaine secret Manna, a Paradice of consolations, which will ea­sily mittigate the crosses and discontentments ministred by a nature ill inclined: for as God permitteth no evill to escape vnpunished, so he letteth passe no good vnre­warded; and although this reward shall be reaped in the harvest of eternall life, yet with a quiet conscience, the tranquility of mind, an internall peace and consolation in heavenly affaires, he fully in this life recompenseth all disasters and calamities which occurre. Cucurri viani Psal. 118. 32. mandatorum tuorum (said one) dum dilatasti cor meum: and as he that guideth by his providence the sterne of mens soules, permitteth them not to bee moyled with tentations above the forces and habilities wherewith [Page 339] they are indued, so likewise, he will not see them so de­iected with crosses, that he wil not erect them with con­solations: so said he, which well had tryed the passions of the crosse, that, Sicut abundant passiones Christi in nobis, ita & per Christū abundat consolatio nostra: for as the passions of Christ aboundeth in vs, even so by Christ aboun­deth2. Cor. 1. 5. Iudit. 8. 20. Psal. 93. 19. 2. Cor. 7. Heb. 12. 5. our comfort; many more sweete sentences to this effect may be read in holy scriptures, all able to incite a well willing heart, to take a good courage in the way of vertue and good life. And then if a man cast his eyes vp to heaven and consider the eternity of pleasures, laid vp for a moment of payne; if he weigh that the Sun setteth the same howre to him that passed the day in good works, in fasting and praying, & to him which vitiously spent it in feasting & playing, he shall perceive how vain fancies, and voluble crosses vanish away as little cloudes before the Northerne winds. Much matter might here be delivered concerning this point, but I cannot follow it, because my purpose is, onely cursorily to handle the heads of difficulties to goodnes, & of favors to avoid ill.

The eight Impediment is, That pleasures are present, which the flesh and world yeeld: The ioyes of heaven absent and future.

THough men and beastes in many things differ, yet in one we may most plainely distinguish them, for beasts regard onely or principally what concerneth the present time, but men forecast for future events; they know the means & the end, & therfore comparing these 2. together, they provide present meanes for a future in­tent. But I know not how originall sin hath enchaunted our heartes, that present pleasure, all men for most part [Page 340] preferre before all future ioy: for since we see not by faith present, those things we expect by hope, or abhor by feare, in the meane time the divell, flesh, and world, delighting vs with a present baite, we neglect that we should expect, and accept that we finde next: not vn­like to children, who preferre an apple before their in­heritance. And without all doubt, I take this to be a most vehement occasion of vice, and such an one as hath cast many poore soules to hell; for worldlings will be of the surer side, they thinke it better to possesse one bird in their hands, then expect two in the fieldes, to be sure of a present commoditie, then to be vncertaine of a future gayne: for as I remember, one asking of a god­ly man, (who lived in great austerity, poverty, mortifi­cation, flying from present pleasures, with as great zeale as commonly others seeke after them) what if there were no heaven nor Paradice wherewith those paynes should be recompensed? The good-man answered; but what if there be a hell, wherewith thy vices shall be pu­nished? An other I know, gave a more direct answere, for, he being demaunded the like question, said, that if he were never to receyve any reward for those small la­bours and duties hee did to the glory of God, that hee thought himselfe sufficiently recompensed in this life, with the quietnesse of a good conscience, with the ho­nestie of a vertuous life, that he could do something for the love of Christ, who had suffered so much to save him: that by his works the Maiesty of God was glori­fied,Iohn 15. 8. to whom all homage was due, all service inferior. And truely so it is, that if foolish and besotted world­linges could well discerne howe all these present plea­sures vanish like smoake, because they are not durable, [Page 341] waver like winde, because they are inconstant, cloy quickely like ranke meat, because they be imperfit, sting like scorpions, because they be poysoned, and to bee briefe, they quench no more the thirst, then salt water, which ever leaveth the stomacke dry. Contrariwise, those spirituall comforts God bestoweth vpon good soules here, are so divine, so pure, so excellent, so con­tent, and inhaunce the Soule, that they exceede all de­lights, that eyther Nature affoordeth, or Arte inventeth: and well they know this trueth that have prooved it; such as mortifie sensuality, casting from them the dregs of E­gypt, those, I say, shall not onely enioy the land flow­ing with milke and hony in Paradice, but a heavenly re­past, the foode of Angelles even in the desart of this world, which, Nemo novit, nisi qui accipit, and therefore they deserve to be condemned of extreme folly, who preferre a present toy before eternall ioy.

The ninth Impediment is, Negligence in serving God, or seeking meanes how to come to our end.

WE see by dayly experience, that all naturall crea­tures contend extreamely to winne their ends, and to procure the meanes they conceyve necessary for their good, their preservation, propagation or end. With what force falleth a stone downe to come to his centre? With what vehemence issueth foorth the fire included in a Cannon, to ascend to the Moone? With what con­tinuall and restlesse course runneth a river to the Ocean Sea? With what care, industry, and diligence do Birds make theyr nests, Emets hoard vp theyr provision, all beasts provide their foode: but now let vs make a reflexi­on [Page 342] vpon our owne actions, and we shall find as extreme negligence in our selves, as wee perceyve diligence in them: What is our end? God: What the meanes? to fly vice and follow Vertue: Let vs now discourse over the world, and try what extreame diligence men vse in procuring riches, honors, pleasures, and what exorbi­tant negligence in providing vertues and good workes to come to God? for those, the Merchants scowre the Seas, despise tempestes, account not rockes, weigh not sands, contemne all perils, which eyther sayling by sea, or travelling by land, ordinarily doe carry with them: for these the souldiers runne vpon pikes, feare no famine, watch and ward, live alwayes in danger, and never in perfect rest: for these, the very base pesants & rusticks la­bour in Winter, and moyle in Summer, singing in hoa­ry frosts and snowes, iesting at parching sunnes and scor­ching heates: passe on further, & walke about the streets of great Citties, Exchanges, Pallaces of Noble men, Courts of Princes, & marke how Vertue suffereth exile, and vice is friendly entertained, shall you peradventure in all these places heare one talke of mortification, of meanes to avoyd ambition, to crosse inordinate appe­tites, to suppresse the lusts of the flesh, to know what may helpe them to pray, or what commonly hindreth those that would pray [...] Alas! this language is not vnder­stood, all tongues are silent, they know not what it mea­neth, and therefore are loath to heare of it. A thing so necessary, so daily and hourely to be practised, is never thought vpon: what negligence can be greater [...] are men so blinded they see not; or if they see, what makes them so carelesse? But against this poyson we have divers re­medies, and cures of Vertue to heale these sores of vice: [Page 343] for consider but with thy selfe; that notable Parable and palpable reason taught vs by Christ, & prooved by con­tinual experience, when the rich man hath massed vp his treasures with hooke and crooke, moyling and toyling, when he thinketh to enioy, loe, a voyce commeth, Stul­te, hac nocte animam repetunt à te, quae autem parasti cuius erunt? And doubtlesse, if men were wise (me thinkes) the continuall feare of death might enforce them to contemne such a base and drudging life.

Besides, if all creatures by the instinct of Nature, en­devor so much to win theyr full and compleat perfecti­on, why should we degenerate so farre from our owne nature, as not to accomplish that we lacke: marke but the seede cast into the ground, how it laboureth to die, after to live; how it fixeth his rootes, pierceth the ground to enioy the Sunne and ayre, erecteth the stem, springs the huskes, issues the eare, yeelds with the wind, and never giveth over till the corne bee brought to a full maturity: we see how new wines, beere, and all liquors worke, by boyling the rawer parts, expelling the dregs, reducing themselves to a due temper, proportionated mixture and perfection: if these insensible creatures, so industri­ously labor to come to theyr end, shal not we endevour to atchieve our end and felicity? If they, according to theyr small ability imploy theyr naturall talentes, why should not wee, endued with so many graces, procure our owne good and perfection? Why standeth God atApoc. 3. 20. the doores of our heart beating, but to enter in? Why doe Gods servants crye out vpon our negligence, butIere. 25. 34. to bring vs to diligence? Why doth God punish ma­ny in the prime of theyr yeeres, in the fatte of theyr fortune, in the glory of theyr prosperitye, but to ad­vertise [Page 344] vs by theyr examples of the inconstancy of this world, and that wee might learne to bee wise by theyr losses, to be vigilant and carefull by their carelesnesse?

Some more Impediments I could deliver, as the ma­ny occasions offred dayly to do ill, the great readinesse of matter and favourers thereof, the insatiable desire possesseth our heartes of inordinate pleasures, the admi­rable diligence in procuring temporall treasures, the ex­treame delight all men conceyve in theyr owne actions, the great account and estimation they do make of them: how soone they despise or abase the enterprises of o­thers, how perverse and obstinate they live in their own opinions. I could (I say) make long discourses vpon these particular obiects, but that they may all be redu­ced to selfe-love, inordinate Passions, the world and the divell, of which we have intreated largely before: onely I will here adioyne the reason and cause of all this Trea­tise, why, we having so many meanes, so forcible, so di­vine,Mat. 7. 15. & 20. 16. 1. Pet. 4. 18. so continuall, so supernaturall, to serve God, to follow Vertue, to fly sinne; and scarce halfe so many im­pediments leading vs to vice and vngodlinesse: yet for one that doth well, thousands doe ill, and for one that goes to Heaven, almost a million goes to hell: and that the difficulty may seeme more apparant, adde another consideration: questionlesse, all vniversall effectes pro­ceede from vniversall causes, as we see all men die; there­fore we gather, that all have a Nature corruptible, all men are subiect to Passions, preventing and dissenting from reason, therefore we inferre, that Nature is cor­rupted: even so, since most men doe ill, and few good, and after this tenour in all Countries and Nations, therefore we must finde out some generall cause.

Some will say that this proceedeth from originall sinne, whereby our nature remayned corrupted, and therefore prone to evill, slow to good; this reason in­deede toucheth some remote cause, but yet it doth not fully satisfie: first, because we have set downe all the in­ternall effects, and impious of-springs of originall sinne, and yet they can not amount or countervaile the num­ber of those helps we have to do good. Besides, it ought to be declared, how originall sinne hath so infected na­ture, that it is so feeble to vertue, and so strong to vice; for all the wounds which internally moove vs to sinne, reside either in the wit, will, or sensitive appetite, the which we have conferred with those stayes, both God and good nature hath bestowed vpon vs to do well. Fur­thermore, by the passion of Christ his merits & grace, o­riginall sinne is forgiven vs, who by baptisme have putGala. 3. 27. Ephes. 5. 6. Tit. 3. 5. Eze 33. 12. Ioel. 2. 25. Ephes. [...]. 5. Eze. 36. 26. Psal. 33. 8. Psal. 90. 13. on Christ, he hath restored vnto vs his former favours, adopted vs for children, changed hearts of stone, into hearts of flesh, fortified our soules against vice, enabled our faculties against sinne, protected and guarded vs a­bout with Angels for our defence against Sathan, that our feet should not be stayed in the way of vertue, by blocks & stones our ghostly enemies cast in the narrow way that leadeth to heaven, to hinder our voyage, or frustrate our designements.

Therefore to conclude this matter, I resolve my selfe that we have more meanes to do good, then occasions to do ill; and them also of their nature to be more for­cible and potent: neverthelesse for foure reasons, more men are wicked then vertuous: first, for lack of prudent meditations; secondly, for ill education; thirdly, for pal­pable & present delectation; lastly, for defect of due pre­fervation. [Page 346] I meane first, that men miscarrie so often in this peregrination, for lack of good consideration, be­cause most of those meanes God hath vouchsafed to be­stow vpon vs, require a certaine meditation and ponde­ration; for they be like hot coales, the which you may take in your hands, and presently cast away without burning, because all actions welnie require time or space for their operations, but if you hold them a while you shall feele their effects. So it falleth forth in the myste­ries of our faith, he that meditateth, burneth, he that per­functorily runneth over them, scarse feeleth their heate: In meditatione mea (sayth David) exardescit ignis, in myPsal. 38. 3. prayer, fire is kindled, because meditation bloweth the coales by consideration, whereunto followeth the flame of love and affection: for otherwise what profit can we take of the inconstancie of our lives, and certaintie of our deaths, of the severe and infallible iudgement of God, the inexplicable paynes of hell, the ineffable ioyes of heaven, if we never consider them? What availeth vs to have the scriptures, that God punished in this life so many with extraordinary deaths, that by sinnes we are spoyled of grace, wounded in nature, disenabled to goodnes, & incited to ilnes, if we never ruminate them in our minds, or ponder them in our considerations? Questionlesse, it were to swallow meate without chew­ing, which rather endammageth health, then restoreth the lost forces. Wherefore I like well those wise & godly men which every day allot themselves a certaine time, stinting their howers for meditation, propounding be­fore the eyes of their consideration, now one mysterie, now an other, now the passions of Christ, then the pangs of death, now the strict iudgements and punish­ments [Page 347] of God, then the eternall delights layd vp for vs in his heavenly Paradice: these therefore like fruitfullPsal. 1. [...]. trees planted by the river sides, render their fruites in due season, these arme themselves in the morning to resist all encounters which may occurre the day time: these be those vigilant virgins which attend with theirMatth. 25. lamps lighted, the comming of their heavenly spouse: these be those carefull housholders, which prevent in­fernallMatth. 24. 43. Luk. 12. 39. theeves, lest they should rob their treasures: these be those which live ever in peace and tranquillitie ofPhil. 3. 20. minde, who dwelling in earth, converse in heaven.

The second reason and principall, is ill education, of the which we have spoken before, & yet I must say here with holy scripture, that as it is impossible for the Ethi­opean to change his skin, so it is impossible for youth,Iere. 13. 23. brought vp licentiously, to change their ill maners; for vse breedeth facilitie, facilitie confirmeth nature, nature strongly inclined, can hardly be diverted from her com­mon course, but followeth her vitious determination. It is a wonder to see how custome transporteth and chan­geth nature both in body and in soule, the which may well be proved by the young Maide the Queene of In­dia sent to Alexander the great, the which being nouri­shed from her youth with serpents poison, had so chan­ged her naturall constitution, that if she had bitten anyAristot. ad Alexand. Vide Hieroni­mum Cagnio­lum de institutio principis § 7. man, he presently died, as Aristotle affirmeth, that by experience he had proved, even so as serpents poyson had changed her body, so ill maners alter the soule, and as her teeth poysoned that they bit, so wic­ked men those soules with whom they talke, Corrum­punt 1. Cor. 15. 33. bonos mores colloquia prava: and acuerunt linguas suas sicut serpentes: nature therefore in tract of timePsal. 139. 4. [Page 348] over-runne with so many weeds of wickednes, abhor­reth extreamely to supplant them, loathing so long, mo­lestfull, and continuall labor, and therefore contenteth her selfe, rather to eate the blacke beries of briers, then the sweet cherries of vertue: for this cause those children have a double bond to their parents & schoolemaisters, which distill even with milke into their mouths the sweet liquor of pietie, vertue, and good manners. Qu [...] semel est imbuta recens serva [...]it [...]dorem testa diu. [...]lacc [...].

Of liquor first which earthen pot receives,
The smell it doth retaine for many dayes.

Whereunto agreeth that vulgare axiome of Philo­sophers.

Omnis habitus est difficilè separabilis à subiecte.

The third reason is, present delectation; for that we hope is future; that pleasure worldlings perceive, is pre­sent, sensible delectation feedeth the corporall substance of sences, and therefore we easily perceive it, but vertue affecteth the soule, not after so palpable and grosse man­ner, & therefore they despise it: wherefore mens soules, by inveterated customes vsed to sensuall and beastly de­lights, either not beleeving, or mistrusting, or rather doubting of spirituall ioyes, they neglect, and for the most part, care not for them, contenting themselves with their present estate, not looking any further: and so, as beasts they live, and as beasts they dye, according to that saying, Home cum in honore esse [...], non intellexit, Psal. 48. 13. & 21. comparatus est iumentis insipientibus, & similis factus est illis, and so become, sicut equus & mulus, in quibus non est Psal. 31. 19. intellectus.

Finally, the lacke of preservation hindereth our spiri­tuall profite, because I conceive our soules without prayer, meditation, the Sacraments of Christs church, exercise of vertue, and works of pietie, not vnlike a dead body, which for lack of a living soule dayly falleth away by putrifaction, leeseth colour, temperature and all sweetnesse, and becommeth ghastly, loathsome and stinking; even so, the soule without those balmes God hath prepared as preservatives, it will be infected with vices, and stincking with sinnes: therefore those which neglect these benefits, are not vnlike sicke men, which know where medicines lie, but will not seeke for them, or receive them.

These foure causes I take to be the principall enimiesMath. 11. 3 [...]. of our spirituall life: howbeit I doubt not that Christs yoke is sweete, and his burthen easie, if men would con­sider the meanes, and accept those helps God hath be­stowed vpon them. But all meanes and helps which ordinarily we proove may be reiected by a wicked will,Prov. 1. 24. Isa. c. 5. & 62. 2. Matth. 23. 37. and a hard indurated heart may resist the sweete calling of God, Quia vocavi & renuistis, extendi manum meam & non erat qui aspiceret.

By these Scriptures and many more we may easilyActs 7. 51. Mat. 11. 21. inferre, that neither lacke of meanes, nor lacke of grace hindereth vs from dooing well, but our owne perverse and wicked will: let vs but runne over two or three ex­amples, and we shall even touch with our fingers the certaintie of this veritie.

Consider but Adams fall, how many meanes he had to do well, and yet how basely he fell, he first, by Gods especiall grace, was indued with so many internall gifts of vertues and knowledge, that easily he might have ob­served [Page 350] that commandement: the inferiour parts were subordinate by originall iustice to the superior, so that passions could not assault him; he had all beasts, and the whole garden of Paradice, with all the hearbs and trees at his pleasure, therefore the precept was not so rigo­rous; for what difficultie were it for a man to abstaine from one tree, having the vse of thousands? He knew most certainely, how by eating, into what a damnable estate he cast himselfe and all his posteritie: wherefore the event might have taught him to prevent the cause: but above all, the perfit knowledge of the sinne he com­mitted against God, the extreme ingratitude, disloyaltie and treacherie, might have bridled his mouth from that poysoned Apple, which brought present death of the soule, and after a time, a certaine death of the body. But all these helps countervailed not his negligence in consideration, and his ill will seduced with ambi­tion.

Let vs take an other familiar example, which dayly occurreth, more common than commendable: a wo­man married, which breaketh her fidelitie promised to her husband, marke but what helps she hath to restraine her from this sinne: I omit the Sacraments of Christs Church, the threatnings of death, Gods iudgement and hell, the enormious offence she committeth a­gainst God, the abuse of his benefits, the breach of his law, the contempt of his grace, the remorce of con­science, the wounding of her soule, and spoyling of the same; all these, and many more common helps graun­ted to all sinners, I will speake nothing of, albeit I thinke them sufficient to with-hold any ingenious heart from prevarication, only let vs weigh those particular meanes [Page 351] she hath to abstaine and withdraw herselfe from this offence, as the great iniurie she offereth her husband, the breach of love betweene them, the infamie where­vnto she for all her life shall be subiect, the stayne of her kinred and friends, for her fault redoundeth to their discredit, as her good to their reputation, the shamefastnesse wherewith God hath indued women, to retayne them from these shamefull actions, the base­nesse and brevitie of that pleasure she pretends vn­vailable to that cost she bestoweth; yet for all this losse, she will hazard it: she neither regardeth the good she leeseth, nor the harmes she incurreth, nor the little trifle she winneth, transgresseth the law of nature, the law of God, the law of christianitie, the law of friendship, onely for lacke of prudent and mature consideration married to a wicked Wili, and perverse affection. That which I have sayde of this lewd Woman, the same might be sayde of all sinners, because the meanes to do well are so many, and the dommages so great, that eve­ry sinne consummate carrieth with it, that I could make a whole booke of them, and perhaps, in time, I will do it. In the meane season (gentle Reader) whensoever occurreth any occasion apt to induce thy Will to of­fende God, runne not too fast after it, ponder a little, crave helpe from above, consider thy helpes, expende thy harmes, and presently thou shalt see that all tentati­ons of this worlde will become like to the huge Statue that Nabuchodonozor beheld, with the head of golde, the breast of silver, the belly of brasse, the legges of y­ron,Daniel c. 3. the feete of yron and earth; for all pleasures are golden in the entraunce, but still decrease to terre­striall and earthly substaunces, towardes the ende [Page 350] [...] [Page 351] [...] [Page 352] they become lothsome, and are accounted vilde, the little stone, without any humane hands cut from the mountayne, will deiect, and cast prostrate on the ground this huge masse of mettall, I meane the grace of Christ, all the multitude of tentations, and sug­gestions of the Divell, and then thou mayest raigne over them by grace in this life, and glory in the end, Amen.

FINIS.
A Succinct Philoſoph …

A Succinct Philo­sophicall declaration of the nature of Clymactericall yeeres, occasioned by the death of Queene Elizabeth.

Written by T: W:

LONDON Printed for Thomas Thorpe, and are to be sold in Paules Church-yard at the signe of the Crane, by Walter Burre. 1604.

A Succinct Philo­sophicall declaration of the nature of Clymactericall yeeres, occasioned by the death of Queene Elizabeth.

AFter the death of Queene ELIZABETH, who died in the 70. yeere of her age, which was the Clymactericall period of her life, diuerse pregnant wits, and curious Philoso­phers were assembled by chance togither, & among sundry other learned Discourses, one demaunded of me, what were these Clymactericall yeeres, their nature, and effects: For (quoth hee) I haue heard many Philosophors and Phisitians talke of them, but as yet I neuer throughly could pierce or peni­trate them. I aunswered him, that the Treatise thereof required longer time, then that place and present occasions afforded, but that afterwards at more ley sure hee should vnderstand them, if hee were desirous to learne: The Gentleman impor­tuned [Page 2] me so much, as at last hee drew me to write this Discourse which followeth: & for that it see­meth not altogether impertinent to this explanati­on of Passions, I thinke it not vnfit to be inserted in the last Booke of the Passions of the Minde; be­cause the same temper of body, and propension to death, which is the base of Clymactericall yeres; the very same conferres much, either to mooue Passi­ons, or hinder the opperations of the soule, as in the progresse of this discourse shal plainly appeare.

Clymax in Greeke signifieth a Staire or a Ladder, and metaphorically is applyed to the yeeres of a man or womans life; as if the whole course of our dayes were a certaine, Ladder, compounded of so many steppes.

True it is, that as the constitutions of mens bo­dies are, for the most parte, of two sortes, the one is firme and strong, the other more weake and feeble: so the Phisitians by long experience haue obserued, that the fatall ends of them who be of a lustie constitution, finish for most part in some score of yeeres, and so they number such persons periods by twentie, 40. 60. 80. 100. 120. And toOther count them by tens. this purpose sayde Moses, *whose eyes were nei­ther darkned, nor any tooth loosed. *Centum vi­ginti Deut. 31. 2. annorum sum hodie, non possum vltra egredi, & ingridi: I am now an hundred and twenty yeeres old, I can no more goe out and come in, that is, no longer liue: and so it fell out, for that * same yeereDeut. 34. 7. [Page 3] he died. And GOD himselfe said of man * E­runt Genes. 6. 4. dies illius centum & viginti anni. The dayes of man shall be an hundred and 20. yeeres.

The next Clymactericall yeere in them of solide and virile constitution is an 100, and so the Scrip­tures report. Numerus dierum vitae hominum vt Eccles. 18. 8 multum centum anni. The number of the dayes of the life of men at most is an 100 yeeres. Another kinde of men whose complexion is weaker, haue a lesser kinde of measure, as they haue shorter life; and yet these also be of two sorts, some stronger, some weaker: the first Clymactericall yeeres are nine, eighteene, tweentie seauen, thirty six, forty fiue, fifty foure, sixty three, seauenty two, eighty one; the seconds are, seauen, foureteene, twenty one, twenty eight, thirty fiue, forty twoo, forty nine, fifty six, sixty three, seauenty. Of these two ages spake Dauid when hee sayde. Dies annorum Psalme 89. 10. nostrorum in ipsis septuaginta anni. Si autem in poten­tatibus octoginta anni amplius corum labor & dolor. The dayes of our yeeres are seauentie yeeres, and if in Potentates they be eightie, the labour and griefe is greater.

The most daungerous of all these passages or steps, are the forty nine, compounded vpon seuen times seauen: and sixty three standing vppon nine times seauen, and next to these is seauenty, which containeth tenne times seauen; they number them also by nine, and so make eighty one, the [Page 4] most perillous as comprehending nine times nine.

These obseruations then of Phisitians presup­posed as true, for men that are wise, vertuous, and experimented in their faculties ought to be be­lieued (for wisdome and experience protect them from errour, and honestie from lying and deceite) it were good to examine and search out the cause of these notable alterations and daungers of death in the Clymactericall yeeres, for those humors which alter the bodie, and dispose it to sicknesse, and death; the same bend the soule to take inor­dinate affections and passions. I haue heard some Phisitians resolue this doubt into the influence of heauens, to wit, that so manie courses of the Sunne, Moone, and Planets from the time of a mans Natiuitie, worke such effects; so that some men, let them liue neuer so orderly, after so ma­nie circular motions of the Sunne and Moone haue warbled ouer their heads, vppon necessitie they must fall into one sicknesse or another, and so die.

Some others ground this varietie and daunge­rous diuersitie, vppon the singular prouidence of God, who hath created all thinges In numero, pondere & mensura: and therefore hath prescri­bed infallibly the periods of mens liues, accord­ing to that Psalm: Notum fac mihi domine finem me­um: & numerum dierum meorum quis est: vt sciant [Page 5] quid desit mihi. Ecce mensurabiles posuisti dies meos. Psalme, 38. Make knowne vnto me O Lord mine end, and the number of my dayes, that I may knowe what I want. Loe thou hast put my dayes mensurable; that is, prescribed certaine bounds and limmits of age not passable: and therefore both Philosophers and Phisitians conclude, that a man with manie disorders, surfeits, exercises, &c. may shorten the natural course of his life, but that he cannot any way prolong it, & passe the prefixed instant of his death: the similitude we haue in a candle lighted, for let a man vse all the diligence possible, the light and fire feeding vpon the candle, perforce will consume it at last; and God or any Angell behoulding the quantitie of the wike, tallow, time of the yeere (for in cold weather a candle consumeth more then in hote, Per antipe­ristasin) and other circumstances may precisely foretell, that such a candle cannot continue bur­ning longer then such a minute of such an houre; in a shorter time it may be consumed with wind, witches, snuffe-fallings, or such like things which waste it away, but longer it cannot be prolonged: after the same sort standeth the courses and the listes of our liues prescribed by God and prefixed by nature: and so God hath appointed these Sep­tuarie, and Nonarie yeeres as best seeming his wisdome and prouidence.

These manners of declaration I will not con­fute, for albeit I doe thinke them both in some [Page 6] things most true, yet they are too generall and remote to answere and satisfie fully our de­maund. The difficultie, no doubt, is exceed­ing hard, and rather I belieue it to be true for the authoritie of Physitians, then for any credite I can giue to theyr reasons; for indeede all that I haue heard discourse thereupon (and I haue heard some verie fine wits) and what I haue read, dooth not content nor satisfie my minde. Therefore I will set downe my Phylosophicall conceite (for in this speculation Physick dependeth vppon Phyloso­phie) and first suppose that customes, habites, changes, and great alterations in mens bodies come seldome vppon a suddaine, but by little and little grow and increase by tract of time; and as we say.

Gutta cauat lapidem, non vised sepe cadendo,
Sic homo fit doctus, non vi, sed sepe legendo.
The dribling drops by falling oft,
Not might, make marbles thinne:
So men by oft perusing bookes,
Not force, doe learning win.

Galen to declare the nature and force of cus­tomeGalen. de Consuet. c. 2. and what effects it worketh in vs, demaun­deth this question: how it commeth to passe, that some mens natures abhor exceedingly some sorts [Page 7] of meate, and are not able to disguest them; as for example, saith he, some cannot abide beefe, others shell fishes; and we haue manie who cannot so much as endure the sight of cheese, others of aples: And yet these same persons by little and little are brought to eate, disguest, yea and greatly to like them? He answereth, that all beasts and men haue naturall propensions, to such meates as are consor­ting with the naturall proprieties of theyr bodies, and abhor such things as are contrarie; and there­fore the Lyon feedeth vppon flesh, not vpon hay; and the Oxe vpon hay not vpon flesh; yet it falleth out that by tract of time, those meates which we detested, after by vse become familiar, for they al­ter the body, and by the sucke of theyr nourish­ment, change the affections and qualities of the stomack, in such sort, as that meate, which before was molestfull, and in very deede hurtfull, becom­meth sauorie and healthfull: and this he proueth, not onely to be true in men and beasts, but also in feedes and trees, whose fruite in some countries are poyson, transferred into other soyles where they receiue another kind of norishment, they be­come, not only by tract of time; not hurtfull, but very healthfull; not poysonfull, but pleasant.

Secondly, it is to be considered, that our bodies generally haue certaine courses, passages, stations or periods, wherein they notably change their ac­tions and operations: till 21. yeeres, or 25. at the most, we grow in height, for some come to theyr [Page 8] full growth sooner, some later: from 25. to fortie two, or forty fiue, we grow in breadth or thicknes, from this, till the end of our dayes we decline: the cause of these three notorious alterations is our na­turall heate or humidum radicale, (which in mine opinion is nothing els but the vitall temper, and qualification of euery solid part of our bodies) the which residing in a moist body, causeth it to grow, like the heate in a loafe of Dowe set in the Ouen: afterwards, what with internall heate, externall drying of the windes, and sunne, and other conti­nuall exercises, which daily exsiccate the body, & draw out the vndeguested moysture, the innated heate is not able to rouze vp the body any more in height, but spreadeth it abroade, and so enlargeth, and ingrosseth it: after which continuall working, heate is weakened, and so by little and little still de­cayeth: and finally resolueth in dissolution.

Thirdly, in this septuarie number of our yeeres, although we cannot discouer such notorious dif­ferences, as in the three former passages, yet in these likewise, we may obserue some markable change. At the first seauenth yeere, men commonly note, that then the child beginneth, to haue some little sparkes of reason: and for this cause, the Cannon Law permitteth such, directed by their parents or Tutors, contrahere sponsalia, to make a promise of future mariage. In the foureteene yeere, the youth is thought to haue the perfit vse of reason, & then the Cannons account him capable of marriage. [Page 9] At twenty one, a man is reputed able iudiciously to dispose of his goods, and faculties, and therfore the Common-law riddeth him then of his vvard­ship, and the Cannons giue him leaue to take the order of subdeacon: the first seauen yeeres are cal­led infantia, the second pueritia, the third adolescen­tia, the fourth, that is, from twenty one to twenty eight, iuuentus, from thence to forty nine, hee is esteemed to stand in statu virili, the next till sixtie three is senectus, after, till seauenty & seauentie sea­uen, for most part ensueth decrepita aetas. In all these periods, or Clymactericall yeeres, it is to be noted, that although the change in that yeere be percei­ued most palpably, and sensibly, yet in all the pre­cedent, they were preparing, working, and some­thing disposing there-vnto: as for example, wee must not thinke that the least drop of rayne, which in effect breaketh the stone, dooth it of it selfe, for that were impossible, but it doth it in vertue, and by force and working of all the former: And per­haps for this cause they were called anni scalares, for that euery yeere precedent, was a steppe to the last, wherein the Ladder or staires were ended.

Fourthly, there is a great dispute among Phisi­tians, what should be the cause of the Paroxismes, or fittes in Agues, and once I my selfe being trou­bled with a tertian Ague, in Italie, in the Cittie of Como, there came two Phisitians my deere friends, and a Doctor of Diuinitie all at one time to visite me, and euen then I stood in expectation of my [Page 10] fit. After many complements & discourses about my sicknes, at last I demaunded these two Doctors of Phisicke, that they would resolue mee in one doubt about my disease: they aunswered, with a good will: Well, sayd I, you both conclude, and it stands with good reason, that this sicknes of mine proceedeth from excesse of choller: now I would know of you, when my fit is past, is the choller all disguested, consumed, and voyded away or no? If it be consumed, why dooth my Ague returne? if it be not consumed, why dooth mine Ague de­part? The Phisitians here aunswered one contra­ [...]ie to another: for the first sayd it was disguested: Why then returneth mine Ague? For this cause quoth he, the Ague proceedeth not onely of chol­ler, but of choller putrified, corrupted, and poy­soned. Now sir, the choller poysoned is consu­med, but other choller which remaineth, is not corrupted, but by the next paroxisme it will be corrupted: Well, sayd I, what thing is that which corrupteth & poisoneth that good choller, which before was not corrupted? It seemeth strange to me, how so much precisely should be corrupted, and the other beeing so neere lying by it, or rather vnited with it, yea mingled in it, not to be infec­ted: In truth I remember not what he aunswered, but I am sure he satisfied none of vs all. The other Doctor of Phisicke sayd, it was not consumed, but nature feeling the force of that poyson, vnited her selfe to fight against it, and so allayed most of the vehemencie, vigour, and malignitie thereof: and [Page 11] hee gaue an example of a pot of water set on the fire, for quoth hee, if the coales be couered with a­shes, the hote water cooleth, blow the fire and it warmeth and boyleth, let ashes returne, or the fire die, the water returneth to the first coldnesse: So quoth hee, the poyson of the choller, by natures might is ouercome, when the Ague departeth, but after that those spirits and forces, which nature had vnited, are dispersed, the fire is quenched, and choller againe corrupted. But quoth the other Phisitian, so the sicknesse should neuer depart, for if your choller be still in cooling and heating, and nature now fighting, now ceasing, when I pray you shall this combat be finally ended? Marry sir quoth his fellow Doctor, in this sort, nature mitti­gateth the forces of choller this fit, and allayeth them: now nature in the meane time, is strength­ned with good foode, and the humour either pur­ged, or quailed with phisicke, and so by little and little it is quite disguested.

Not so said the other, for then the second fit should alwayes be lesse then the first, and the third lesse then the second, and so forward to the last: but this is false, for his third and fourth fits, were much more vehement, then either the first or se­cond. And besides, by this declaration, no man should euer die vpon an Ague. For if in euery fit, the sicknesse ceassed not, vntill the humour were allayed, then certainly in Agues, (which are mor­tall) [Page 12] the fitte shoulde neuer passe, which is most false.

With this the Doctor of Diuinitie, who was a very good Philosopher, and for that he had beene much troubled with maladies, he was like manie wrangling Gentlemen, a petty-fogging Phisitian at his owne costs, as they be petty-fogging Law­yers thorow theyr owne sutes. Why said the Di­uine, may we not hold that the Ague is in the liuer and hart? No quoth the Phisitians both, that cannot be, because no Phisitian euer held, that any A­gue was in partibus solidis, that is, in the hart & li­uer, &c. except the Hecticke. Well said the diuine, I say not that it is in the hart and liuer immediatly, for that I will confesse perforce must be choller, but I say the fountaine and spring, the roote and crigen to reside in the liuer, the which immediat­ly causeth corrupted blood and inflamed choller, for they beeing extraordinarily corrupted them­selues with vehement heate, cannot but engender blood, spirits, and humors of like infection and corruption. And by this way I aunswere the first doubt that when the Ague ceaseth, choller is di­guested: Why then returneth it againe? Marie sir, because the hart and liuer beeing out of tem­per, in that space of time engender so many more peruerse humors, as oppr [...]sse nature, so vehement­ly and dangerously, that shee must imploy all her might to resist them, abate them, extinguish them. In truth Maister Doctor (said I) this opinion I like [Page 13] very well, and I will confirme it, for since mine A­gue first beganne, these Phisitians haue inculcated nothing so much vnto me, by word and deede, as to coole my liuer: to this effect all their syrrops and waters of Endiue, Sicory, and Barley tended. And with this discourse wee ended our dispute, & mine Ague: the which with this pleasant con­ference passed away.

Fiftly, Plato auoucheth, that Agues haue agesPlato in Dia­log. de Natur. like men, as also consummations and ends, vvith whom Galen consenteth: This sentence of Plato, Valesius a worthy Phisitian explicateth in this ma­ner. As there are two sorts of diseases, sharpe andValesius de Sacra Philo. cap. 7. cronicall, both which haue theyr decretory daies, but not alike, for the sharpe haue odde dayes, espe­cially seauen: the cronicall twenty, sixty, eightie, a hundred: so there are two prerogations or cour­ses of life. the one is common to many, the other to fewe, and such as are of a most liuely constituti­on: both of them haue theyr Clymactericall or de­cretory yeeres. The first wee number by seauen and nine, the latter wee count by tenne, and the last period is a hundred and twenty.

To this Discourse of Valesius lette vs adde a cer­tayne poynt of experience and doctrine of Galen, Galen. lib. r. de diebus de­cretorijs c. 22. who in the decretorie dayes of a feuer, which numbreth by seauen specially, he will tell you the fourth day, whether the Agew will leaue the pa­tient the seauenth, or whether hee shall die vpon [Page 14] the seauenth day, or no: and also withall, hee teacheth to foretell the very houre of death vppon the seauenth day.

Last of all, out of these considerations we may gather as much as will sufficiently (I hope) satis­fie the Question proposed in the beginning of this Section, viz: why in these Clymactericall yeeres men commonly die? To which I doe aunswere, That for euery sixe yeeres or eight, men still ga­ther vppe more or lesse humours, which prepare the way for an Agew in the seauen or nine: As wee sayde before, when the fitte is past, the heart and liuer prepare humours for the next ensuing, and in case they be not sufficient in the seauen, they multiply to the nine: if in this they faile, then they passe to the foureteene, then to eighteene, &c. And for this cause Physitians councell theyr Patients to purge in the Spring and Authumne, to hinder the increase of humours, albeit they feele themselues nothing diseased at all.

This we may declare by the example of them, who are infected with hereditary diseases, as the gowte, or the stone: for albeit they euidently appeere not till olde age, yet in all the progresse of their yeeres, the partes and humours infensibly are prepared. Or wee may say, that in sixe or eight yeeres the liuer and heart which are foun­taines of bloud, and origens of humours are so in­fected and corrupted, that in the last yeere they [Page 15] engender more vnnaturall superfluous humours, than can stand with the right and naturall constitu­tion of the body.

But some will say, by this opinion a man should euer be sicke, for hee shoulde neuer want corrup­ted humours, wherein sickenesse consisteth. To this I answere; first, that health consisteth not in indiuisibili, in an indiuisible poynt, so that it ad­mitteth not some few peccant humours withall, but hath a certaine amplitude, like as if into a But of strong Canary Wine, a man euery moneth shoulde put in halfe a pinte of water, euery day a spoonefull, at the moneths end, yea the yeeres end, the Wine woulde be almost as potent, as at the first, yea and perhaps more, if it bee well hel­ped.

Secondly, wee see that Custome breedeth qualities and alterations so insensibly, as in long time (till they come to a full growth) they can hardly be perceiued.

Thirdly, I doubt not but hee that hath for example the first foureteene yeere of his life for his Clymactericall, in the precedent yeeres, shall gather more corrupted humoures, then hee whose Clymactericall yeere is nine and fortie, and also feele himselfe proportionally more weake, albeit hee can not well perceiue; for I my selfe haue knowne a man, almost with halfe his lungs [Page 16] rotten with a consumption, and yet boldelie auowch that he was strong, for Ab assuetis non fit passio.

Some will obiect, that wee see by experience many menne die within the space of a day or two, who before were as sound and whole, as coulde be: neyther in their vrine, blood, or pulse appea­red any signe of sickenesse, or superfluous hu­mour.

To this I aunswere, that such a man was ey­ther oppressed with some vehement Passion, or some violent exercise, or some other extrinsecall cause, which accelerated, peruerted, and extra­ordinarily augmented the humour, and so caused death: for as I saide aboue, although a man (con­sidering the common course of his dayes) can not passe his prefixed time and Clymactericall periode, yet by many meanes he may shorten it.

Much more I coulde say, prò and contrà, for this Declaration, but because it were something too Physicall, and not so necessarie for this Mo­rall Treatise, therefore I will bury it with silence: for this poynt, in very trueth, is so intricate, that I perceiue, the best wittes are exceedingly trou­bled to extricate themselues out of it.

And therefore, as this I esteeme probable, so I woulde giue any Physitian most hearty thankes, who in few woordes woulde teach mee a better way.

I sayde in briefe, for I haue seene some such long tedious Discourses, as I loathed to peruse them, doubting lest the vncertaine profit, would not repay the cer­taine payne.

Finis.

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