Nosce teipsum. This Oracle expounded in two Elegies.
- 1. Of Humane knowledge.
- 2. Of the Soule of Man, and the immortalitie thereof.
LONDON, Printed by Richard Field, for Iohn Standish. 1599.
TO MY MOST GRACIOVS dread Soueraigne.
TO that cleare Maiestie, which in the North,
Doth like another Sunne in glorie rise,
VVhich standeth fixt, yet spreds her heauenly worth,
Loadstone to Hearts, and Loadstarre to all Eyes;
Like Heau'n in all; like th'Earth in this alone,
That though great States by her support do stand,
Yet she her selfe supported is of none,
But by the Finger of th' Almighties hand;
To the diuinest and the richest minde,
Both by Arts purchase, and by Natures Dower,
That euer was from Heauen to Earth confin'd,
To shew the vtmost of a Creatures power;
To that great Spirit, which doth great Kingdomes moue,
The sacred Spring, whence Right and Honor streames,
Distilling Vertue, shedding peace and Loue,
In euery place, as Cynthia sheds her beames;
I offer vp some sparkles of that fire,
VVhereby we reason, liue, and moue, and bee:
These sparkes by nature euermore aspire,
VVhich makes them to so high an Highnesse flee.
Faire Soule, since to the fairest bodie knit,
You giue such liuely life, such quickning power,
Such sweete celestiall influence to it,
As keepes it still in youths immortall flower,
(As where the Sunne is present all the yeare,
And neuer doth retire his golden ray,
Needs must the Spring be euerlasting there,
And euery season like the Mon'th of May.)
O many, many yeares may you remaine,
A happie Angell to this happie Land:
Long, long, may you on earth our Empresse raigne,
Ere you in Heauen a glorious Angell stand;
Stay long (sweet Spirit) ere thou to Heauen depart,
VVhich mak'st each place a Heauen wherin thou art.
Her Maiesties least and vnworthiest subiect. Iohn Dauies.
Of humane knovvledge.
WHy did my parents send me to the schooles,
That I with knowledg might enrich my mind,
Since the desire to know first made men fooles,
And did corrupt the roote of all mankind?
For when Gods hand had written in the harts
Of the first Parents all the rules of good,
So that their skill enfusde did passe all Arts
That euer were, before, or since the Flood;
And when their reasons eye was sharpe and cleere,
And (as an Eagle can behold the Sunne,)
Could haue approch't th'eternall light as neere,
As th'intellectuall Angels could haue done;
Euen then, to them the Spirit of lies suggests,
That they were blind, because they saw not Ill:
And breathes into their incorrupted breasts,
A curious wish, which did corrupt their will.
For that same Ill they straight desir'd to know:
Which Ill being nought but a defect of good,
In all Gods workes the Diuell could not show,
While Man their Lord in his perfection stood.
So that themselues were first to do the Ill,
Ere they thereof the knowledge could attaine;
Like him, that knew not poisons power to kill,
Vntill (by tasting it) him selfe was slaine.
Euen so by tasting of that Fruite forbid,
Where they sought knowledge, they did error find,
Ill they desir'd to know, and Ill they did;
And to giue Passion eyes, made Reason blind.
For then their minds did first in passion see
Those wretched shapes, of Miserie and VVoe,
Of Nakednesse, of Shame, of Pouertie,
Which then their owne experience made thē know.
But then grew Reason darke, that she no more
Could the faire Formes of God and Truth discerne;
Battes they became, that Eagles were before,
And this they got by their desire to learne.
But we their wretched Offspring, what do we?
Do not we still tast of the fruite forbid?
VVhiles with fond, fruitelesse curiositie,
In bookes prophane we seeke for knowledge hid?
What is this knowledge? but the Skie-stolne fire,
For which the Thiefe still chaind in Ice doth sit?
And which the poore rude Satyre did admire,
And needs would kisse, but burnt his lips with it?
What is it? but the cloud emptie of Raine,
Which when Ioues Guest embrac't, he Monsters got?
Or the false Pailes, which oft being fild with paine,
Receiu'd the water, but retain'd it not?
Shortly what is it? but the fierie Coach,
Which the Youth sought, & sought his death withall?
Or the Boyes wings, which when he did approch
The Sunnes hote beames, did melt and let him fall?
And yet, alas, when all our Lampes are burnd,
Our Bodies wasted, and our Spirits spent;
VVhen we haue all the learned volumes turnd,
VVhich yeeld mens wits both helpe and ornament;
VVhat can we know? or what can we discerne?
VVHen Error chokes the windowes of the mind;
The diuerse formes of things, how can we learne,
That haue bene euer from our birth-day blind?
VVhen Reasons lampe which (like the Sunne in skie)
Throughout Mans litle world her beams did sprea
Is now become a Sparkle, which doth lie
Vnder the Ashes, halfe extinct, and dead;
How can we hope, that through the Eye and Eare,
This dying Sparkle, in this cloudie place,
Can recollect those beames of knowledge cleare,
VVhich were enfus'd in the first minds by grace?
So might the heire, whose father hath in play,
Wasted a thousand pounds of ancient rent,
By painfull earning of one grote a day,
Hope to restore the patrimonie spent.
The wits that div'd most deepe, and soar'd most hie,
Seeking Mans powers, haue found his weaknes such:
" Skill comes so slow, and life so fast doth flie,
" We learne so litle, and forget so much.
For this the wisest of all Mortall men
Said, he knew nought, but that he nought did know:
And the great mocking Maister mockt not then,
When he said, Truth was buried deepe below.
For how may we to others things attaine,
When none of vs his owne Soule vnderstands?
For which the Diuell mockes our curious braine,
When know thy selfe his oracle commands.
For why should we the busie Soule beleeue,
When boldly she concludes of that, and this,
When of her selfe she can no iudgement geue,
Nor how, nor whence, nor where, nor what she is?
All things without, which round about we see,
We seeke to know, and haue therewith to do:
But that whereby we reason, liue, and be,
Within our selues, we strangers are thereto.
We seeke to know the mouing of each spheare,
And the strange cause of th'ebs and flouds of Nile:
But of that clocke within our breast we beare,
The subtill motions we forget the while.
We that acquaint our selues with euery Zoane,
And passe both Tropikes, and behold the Poles,
When we come home, are to our selues vnknowne,
And vnacquainted still with our owne Soules.
We studie Speech, but others we perswade;
We Leech craft learne, but others Cure with it;
We interpret Lawes, which other men haue made;
But reade not those, which in our harts are writ.
Is it because the minde is like the eye,
(Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees,)
Whose rayes reflect not, but spread outwardly,
Not seeing it selfe, when other things it sees?
No doubtlesse, for the minde can backward cast
Vpon her selfe, her vnderstanding light;
But she is so corrupt, and so defac't,
As her owne image doth her selfe affright.
As is the fable of that Ladie faire,
VVhich for her lust was turnd into a Cow,
VVhen thirtie to a streame she did repaire,
And saw her selfe transformd, she wist not how,
At first she startles, then she stands amaz'd,
At last with terror she from thence doth flie,
And loathes the watrie glasse wherein she gaz'd,
And shunnes it still, though she for thirst do die.
Euen so Mans soule which did Gods Image beare,
And was at first faire, good, and spotlesse pure,
Since with her sinnes her beauties blotted were,
Doth of all sights her owne sight least endure.
For euen at first reflection she espies,
Such strange Chymeraes, and such Monsters there,
Such Toyes, such Antikes, and such Vanities,
As she retires, and shrinks for shame and feare;
And as the man loues least at home to bee,
That hath a sluttish house, haunted with Sprites,
So she impatient her owne faults to see,
Turnes from her selfe, and in strangethings delites.
For this few know themselues: for merchants broke
View their estate with discontent, and paine;
And Seas are troubled when they do reuoke,
Their flowing waues, into themselues againe.
And while the face of outward things we find,
Pleasing, and faire, agreable, and sweete;
These things transport, and carrie out the mind,
That with herselfe her selfe can neuer meete.
Yet if Affliction once her warres begin,
And threat the feeble Sense with sword and fire,
The Mind contracts her selfe, and shrinketh in,
And to her selfe she gladly doth retire;
As Spiders toucht, seeke their webs in most part:
As Bees in stormes vnto their hiues returne:
As Bloud in danger gathers to the hart;
As Men seeke Towns when foes the Country burne.
If ought can teach vs ought, Afflictions lookes,
(Making vs looke into our selues so neare)
Teach vs to know our selues, beyond all bookes,
Or all the learned Schooles that euer were.
This Mistresse lately pluckt me by the Eare,
And many a golden lesson hath me taught;
Hath made my Senses quicke, and Reason cleare,
Reformd my VVill, and rectifide my Thought;
So do the VVinds and Thunders cleanse the Aire,
So working Seas settle and purge the wine;
So lopt and pruned Trees do slorish faire;
So doth the fire the drossie Gold refine.
Neither Minerua, nor the learned Muse,
Nor Rules of Art, nor Precepts of the wise,
Could in my braine those beames of skill enfuse,
As but the glaunce of this Dames angrie eyes.
She within Listes my raunging minde hath brought,
That now beyond my selfe I list not go;
My selfe am Center of my circling thought,
Onely my selfe I studie, learne, and know.
I know my Bodi's of so fraile a kinde,
As force without, feauers within can kill;
I know the heauenly nature of my minde,
But tis corrupted, both in wit and will:
I know my Soule hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blind and ignorant in all;
I know I am one of Natures litle kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.
I know my life's a paine, and but a span,
I know my Sense is mockt with euery thing;
And to conclude, I know my selfe a Man,
Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing.
Of the Soule of man, and the immortalitie thereof.
THe lights of heauē (which are the worlds faire eyes)
Looke downe into the world, the world to see,
And as they turne, or wander in the skies,
Suruey all things, that on this Center bee.
And yet the lights which in my towre do shine,
Mine Eyes, which view all obiects, nigh and farre,
Looke not into this litle world of mine,
Nor see my face, wherein they fixed are.
Since Nature failes vs in no needfull thing,
Why want I meanes, mine inward selfe to see?
Which sight, the knowledge of my self might bring,
Which to true wisedome is the first degree.
That Powre, which gaue me eyes the world to view,
To view my selfe, enfus'd an inward light,
Whereby my Soule, as by a Mirror true,
Of her owne forme may take a perfect sight.
But as the sharpest eye discerneth nought,
Except the Sunne-beames in the Aire do shine;
So the best Soule, with her reflecting thought,
Sees not her selfe, without some light diuine.
O Light which mak'st the Light, which makes the Day,
Which setst the Eye without, and Mind within,
Lighten my spirit with one cleare heauenly ray,
Which now to view it selfe doth first begin.
For her true forme how can my Sparke discerne?
Which dimme by Nature, Art did neuer cleere;
When the great Wits, of whom all skill we learne,
Are ignorant both what she is, and where?
One thinks the Soule is Aire, another Fire,
Another, bloud defus'd about the hart;
Another saith, the Elements conspire,
And to her Essence each doth giue a part.
Musitians thinke our Soules are Harmonies;
Phisitions hold, that they Complexions bee;
Epicures make them swarmes of Atomies,
VVhich do by chance into our Bodies flee.
Some thinke one generall Soule fils euery braine,
As the bright Sunne sheds light in euery Starre:
And others thinke the name of Soule is vaine,
And that we onely well mixt bodies are.
In iudgement of her substance thus they varie:
And thus they varie in iudgement of her seate:
For some her Chaire vp to the braine do carrie,
Some thrust it downe into the stomakes heate;
Some place it in the Roote of life, the Hart,
Some in the Liuer, fountaine of the Vaines;
Some say, she is all in all, and all in part:
Some say, she is not containd, but all containes.
Thus these great Clerks their litle wisdome show,
While with their Doctrines they at Hazard play,
Tossing their light opinions to and fro,
To mocke the Lewd, as learnd in this as they.
For no craz'd braine could euer yet propound,
Touching the Soule so vaine and fond a thought,
But some among these Maisters haue bene found,
Which in their Schooles the selfe same thing haue taught.
God onely wise, to punish pride of Wit,
Among mens wits hath this confusion wrought,
As the proud Towre whose points the clouds did hit,
By Tongues confusion was to ruine brought.
But (thou) which didst Mans-soule of nothing make,
And when to nothing it was fallen agen,
To make it new, the Forme of Man didst take,
And God with God becam'st a Man with Men;
Thou, that hast fashioned twise this Soule of ours,
So that she is by double title thine,
Thou onely knowest her nature and her powers,
Her subtile forme thou onely canst define.
To iudge her selfe, she must her selfe transcend,
As greater Circles comprehend the lesse;
But she wants powre, her owne powres to extend,
As fettred Men, can not their strength expresse.
But thou bright morning Starre, thou rising Sunne,
Which in these later times hast brought to light
Those mysteries, that since the world begun,
Lay hid in darknesse, and eternall night;
Thou (like the Sunne) dost with in different ray
Into the Pallace and the Cottage shine,
And shew'st the Soule, both to the Clarke and lay,
By the cleare Lampe of thy Oracle diuine.
This Lampe through all the Regions of my braine,
Where my Soule sits, doth spread such beames of grace
As now, me thinks, I do distinguish plaine,
Each subtill line of her immortall face.
What the Soule is.
The soule a substance, and a spirit is,Which God himselfe doth in the Bodie make;
Which makes the Man; for euery Man from this
The nature of a Man, and name doth take.
And though this Spirit be to the Bodie knit,
As an apt meane her powers to exercise,
Which are, life, motion, sense, and will, and wit,
Yet she suruiues, although the Bodie dies.
She is a substance, and a reall thing,
That the Soule is a thing subsisting by it selfe without the Bodie.
1 Which hath it selfe an actuall working might,
2 Which neither from the Senses power doth spring,
3 Nor from the Bodies humors tempred right.
She is a Vine, which doth no propping need,
To make her spread her selfe, or spring vpright;
She is a Starre, whose beames do not proceed
From any Sunne, but from a natiue light.
For when she sorts things present with things past,
That the Soule hath a proper operation without the Bodie.
And thereby things to come doth oft foresee;
When she doth doubt at first, and choose at last,
These acts her owne, without the Bodie, be.
When of the deaw, which the eye and eare do take
From flowers abroad, and bring into the braine,
She doth within both waxe and hony make,
This worke is hers, this is her proper paine.
When she from sundry Acts, one skill doth draw,
Gathring from diuerse fights one Art of warre,
From many Cases like, one Rule of law;
These her Collections, not the Senses are.
When in th'effects she doth the Causes know,
And seeing the streame, thinks where the spring doth rise;
And seeing the branch, conceiues the roote below;
These things she viewes without the Bodies eyes.
When she without a Pegasus doth flie
Swifter then lightnings fire from East to VVest,
About the Center, and aboue the skie,
She trauels then, although the bodie rest.
When all her works she formeth first within,
Proportions them, and sees their perfect end,
Ere she in act doth any part begin:
What instruments doth then the body lend?
When without hands she thus doth Castels build,
Sees without eyes, and without feete doth runne,
When she digests the World, yet is not fild,
By her owne power these miracles are done.
When she defines, argues, deuides, compounds,
Considers vertue, vice, and generall things,
And marrying diuerse principles and grounds,
Out of their match a true Conclusion brings;
These Actions in her Closet all alone,
(Retir'd within her selfe) she doth fulfill;
Vse of her bodies Organs she hath none,
When she doth vse the powers of Wit and Will.
Yet in the Bodies prison so she lyes,
As through the bodies windowes she must looke,
Her diuerse powers of Sense to exercise,
By gathering Notes out of the VVorlds great Booke.
Nor can her selfe discourse, or iudge of ought,
But what the sense Collects and home doth bring;
And yet the power of her discoursing thought,
From these Collections, is a Diuerse thing.
For though our eyes can nought but Colours see,
Yet colours giue them not their powre of sight:
So, though these fruites of Sense her obiects bee,
Yet she discernes them by her proper light.
The workman on his stuffe his skill doth show,
And yet the stuffe giues not the man his skill;
Kings their affaires do by their seruants know,
But order them by their owne royall will.
So though this cunning Mistresse and this Queene,
Doth as her instruments the Senses vse,
To know all things that are felt, heard, or seene,
Yet she her selfe doth onely iudge and choose:
Euen as our great wise Empresse, that now raignes,
By soueraigne title ouer sundrie lands,
Borrowes in meane affaires her subiects paines,
Sees by their eyes, and writeth by their hands;
But things of waight and consequence indeed,
Her selfe doth in her chamber them debate,
Where all her Counsellers she doth exceed
As farre in iudgement, as she doth in state.
Or as the man whom she doth now aduaunce,
Vpon her gracious mercie seate to sit,
Doth common things of course and circumstance,
To the Reports of common men commit:
But when the Cause it selfe must be decreed,
Himselfe in person in his proper Court,
To graue and solemne hearing doth proceed,
Of euery proofe, and euery by-report:
Then like Gods Angell he pronounceth right,
And milke and honie from his tongue do flow:
Happie are they that still are in his sight,
To reape the wisdome which his lips do sow:
Right so the Soule, which is a Ladie free,
And doth the iustice of her State maintaine,
Because the Senses readie seruants bee,
Attending nigh about her Court, the braine:
By them the formes of outward things she learnes,
For they returne into the fantasie,
What euer each of them abroad discernes,
And there enroll it for the mind to see.
But when she sits to iudge the good and Ill,
And to discerne betwixt the false and true,
She is not guided by the Senses skill,
But doth each thing in her owne Mirror view.
Then she the Senses checks, which oft do erre,
And euen against their false reports decrees;
And oft she doth condemne, what they preferre,
For with a powre aboue the Sense, she sees:
Therefore no Sense the precious ioyes conceiues,
Which in her priuate Contemplations bee;
For then the rauisht spirit the Senses leaues,
Hath her owne powers, and proper actions free.
Her harmonies are sweete, and full of skill,
When on the bodies instrument she playes:
But the proportions of the wit and will,
Those sweete accords, are euen the Angels layes.
These tunes of Reason, are Amphyons lyre,
Wherewith he did the Thebane Citie found,
These are the notes, wherewith the heauenly Quire
The praise of him, which spreads the heauē, doth soūd
Then her selfe being Nature shines in this,
That she performes her noblest works alone;
" The worke the Touchstone of the nature is,
" And by their operations things are knowne.
Arc they not senslesse then,
That the soule is more th [...]n a perfectiō or reflection of the sense.
that thinke the souleNought but a fine perfection of the Sense,
Or of the formes which fancie doth enrolle,
A quicke resulting and a consequence?
What is it then, that doth the Sense accuse,
Both of false iudgements, and fond appetites?
Which makes vs do what Sense doth most refuse?
Which oft in torment of the Sense delights?
Sense thinks the Planets spheares not much asunder:
What tels vs then their distance is so farre?
Sense thinks the lightning borne before the thunder:
What tels vs then they both together are?
When Men seeme Crowes farre off vpon a Towre,
Sense saith, th'are crows, what makes vs think thē mē?
When we in Agues thinke all sweete things sowre,
What makes vs know our tongs false iudgemēt thē?
What powre was that, whereby Medea saw,
And well approu'd, and praisd, the better course,
When her rebellious Sense did so withdraw
Her feeble powres, as she pursu'd the worse?
Did Sense perswade Vlysses not to heare,
The Mermaids songs, which so his men did please,
As they were all perswaded through the eare
To quit the ship, and leape into the seas?
Could any powre of Sense the Romane moue,
To burne his owne right hand, with courage sto [...]
Could Sense make Marius sit vnbound, and proue
The cruell launcing of the knottie gout?
Doubtlesse in Man there is a nature found,
Beside the Senses, and aboue them farre;
" Though most mē being in sensuall pleasures drownd,
" It seemes their Soules but in the Senses are.
If we had nought but Sense, then onely they
Should haue sound minds, which haue their senses sound;
But wisedome growes, when senses do decay,
And follie most in quickest sense is found.
If we had nought but sense; each liuing wight,
Which we call brute, would be more sharpe thē wee;
As hauing Senses apprehensiue might,
In a more cleare, and excellent degree.
But they do want that quicke discoursing power,
Which doth in vs the erring sense correct;
Therefore the Bee did sucke the painted flower,
And birds of grapes the cunning shadow peckt.
Sense outsides knowes, the Soule through all things sees,
Sense Circumstance, she doth the substance view;
Sense sees the barke, but she the life of trees;
Sense heares the sounds, but she the Concords true.
But why do I the Soule and Sense deuide?
When Sense is but a powre, which she extends,
Which being in diuerse parts diuersified,
The diuerse formes of obiects apprehends?
This power spreads outward, but the roote doth grow
In th'inward Soule, which onely doth perceiue;
For th'eyes and eares no more their obiects know,
Then glasses know what faces they receiue.
For if we chance to fixe our thoughts elsewhere,
Although our eyes be ope, we do not see,
And if one power did not both see and heare,
Our sights and sounds would alwayes double bee.
Then is the Soule a nature, which containes,
The powre of Sense, within a greater powre;
Which doth employ and vse the Senses paines,
But sits and rules within her priuate bowre.
That the soule is more then the tē perature of the humors of the body.
If she doth then the subtill Sense excell,How grosse are they that drowne her in the blood?
Or in the bodies humours tempred well,
As if in them such high perfection stood?
As if most skill in that Musitian were,
Which had the best, and best tun'd instrument;
As if the Pensill neate, and Colours cleere,
Had powre to make the Painter excellent.
Why doth not Beautie then refine the wit?
And good Complexion rectifie the will?
Why doth not Health bring wisdome still with it?
Why doth not Sicknesse make men brutish still?
Who can in Memorie, or wit, or will,
Or aire, or fire, or earth, or water find;
What Alchymist can draw with all his skill,
The Quintessence of these out of the mind?
If th'Elements which haue nor life, nor sense,
Can breed in vs so great a powre as this,
Why giue they not themselues like excellence,
Or other things wherein their mixture is?
If she were but the bodies qualitie,
Then would she be, with it sicke, maimd and blind;
But we perceiue, where these priuations bee,
A healthie, perfect, and sharpe sighted mind.
If she the bodies nature did partake,
Her strength would with the bodies strength decay;
But when the bodies strongest sinewes slake,
Then is the Soule most actiue, quicke, and gay.
If she were but the bodies accident,
And her sole being did in it subsist,
As white in snow, she might her selfe absent,
And in the bodies Substance not be mist.
But it on her, not she on it depends;
For she the body doth sustaine and cherish,
Such secret powers of life to it she lends,
That when they faile, then doth the body perish.
Since then the Soule workes by her selfe alone,
Springs not from sense, nor humours well agreeing,
Her nature is peculiar, and her owne,
She is a substance, and a perfect being.
That the soule is a spirit.
But though this substance be the roote of Sense,Sense knowes her not, which doth but bodies know;
She is a spirit, and a heauenly Influence,
Which from the fountaine of Gods spirit doth flow.
She is a spirit, yet not like aire, or wind,
Nor like the spirits about the heart or braine,
Nor like those spirits which Alchymists do find,
When they in euery thing seeke gold in vaine.
For she all natures vnder heauen doth passe;
Being like those spirits, which Gods bright face do see,
Or like himselfe, whose image once she was,
Though now (alas) she scarce his shadow bee.
Yet of the formes she holds the first degree,
That are to grosse materiall bodies knit;
Yet she her selfe is bodilesse and free,
And though confin'd, is almost infinit.
That it can not be a bodie.
Were she a bodie, how could she remaineWithin this bodie, which is lesse then she?
Or how could she the worlds great shape containe,
And in our narrow breasts contained be?
All bodies are confin'd within some place;
But she all place within her selfe confines;
All bodies haue their measure, and their space,
But who can draw the Soules dimensiuelines?
No bodie can at once two formes admit,
Except the one the other do deface;
But in the Soule ten thousand formes do sit,
And none intrudes into her neighbours place.
All bodies are with other bodies fild;
But she receiues both heauen and earth together,
Nor are their formes by rash incounter spild,
For there they stand, and neither toucheth ether.
Nor can her wide Embracements filled bee;
For they that most, and greatest things embrace,
Enlarge thereby their minds Capacitie,
As streames enlarg'd, enlarge the Channels space.
All things receiu'd, do such proportion take,
As those things haue wherein they are receiu'd:
So litle glasses litle faces make,
And narrow webs on narrow frames be weau'd;
Then what vast body must we make the mind?
Wherein are men, beasts, trees, towns, seas, & lands,
And yet each thing a proper place doth find,
And each thing in the true proportion stands?
Doubtlesse this could not be, but that she turnes
Bodies to spirits by sublimation strange;
As fire conuerts to fire the things it burnes,
As we our meates into our nature change.
From their grosse matter she abstracts the formes,
And drawes a kind of Quintessence from things,
Which to her proper nature she transformes,
To beare them light on her celestiall wings;
This doth she, when from things particular,
She doth abstract the vniuersall kinds,
Which bodilesse, and immateriall are,
And can be lodg'd but onely in our minds;
And thus from diuerse accidents and acts,
Which do within her obseruation fall,
She goddesses, and powres diuine abstracts,
As Nature, fortune, and the vertues all.
Againe, how can she seuerall bodies know,
If in her selfe a bodies forme she beare?
How can a Mirror sundrie faces show,
If from all shapes and formes it be not cleare?
Nor could we by our eyes all colours learne,
Except our eyes were of all colours voide;
Nor sundry tasts can any tongue discerne,
Which is with grosse, and bitter humours cloide.
Nor may a man of passions iudge aright,
Except his mind be from all passions free;
Nor can a Iudge his office well acquite,
If he possest of either partie bee.
If lastly this quicke powre a bodie were,
Were it as swist as is the wind, or fire,
(Whose Atomies do th'one downe side-wayes beare,
And make the other in Pyramids aspire,)
Her nimble body yet in time must moue,
And not in instants through all places slide;
But she is nigh, and sarre, beneath, aboue,
In point of time, which thought can not deuide.
Sh'is sent as soone to China, as to Spaine,
And thence returnes, as soone as she is sent;
She measures with one time, and with one paine,
An ell of Silke, and heauens wide spreading Tent;
As then the Soule a substance hath alone,
Besides the body, in which she is confin'd;
So hath she not a bodie of her owne,
But is a spirit, and immateriall mind.
Since bodie and soule haue such diuersities,
That the Soule is created immediatly by God.
Well might we muse, how first their match began;
But that we learne, that he that spread the skies,
And fixt the earth, first formd the Soule in man.
Zach. 12 1.
This true Prometheus first made man of earth,
And shed in him a beame of heauenly Fire;
Now in their mothers wombes before their birth,
Doth in all sonnes of men their Soules inspire.
And as Minerua is in fables said,
From Ioue without a mother to proceed;
So our true Ioue without a mothers aide,
Doth daily millions of Mineruaes breed.
Erronious opiniōs of the creation of soules.
Then neither from eternitie before,Nor from the time, when Times first point begun,
Made he all Soules, which now he keeps in store,
Some in the Moone, and others in the Sunne;
Nor in a secret cloister doth he keepe
These virgin spirits, vntill their mariage day;
Nor locks them vp in Chambers, where they sleepe,
Till they awake, within these beds of Clay;
Nor did he first a certaine number make,
Infusing part in beasts, and part in men,
And as vnwilling farther paines to take,
Would make no more, then those he framed then;
So that the widow Soule, her bodie dying,
Vnto the next borne bodie maried was,
And so by often changing, and supplying,
Mens soules to beasts, and beasts to men did passe.
(These thoughts are fond: for since the bodies borne
Be more in number farre, then those that die,
Thousands must be abortiue, and forlorne,
Ere others deaths to them their soules supply.)
But as Gods handmayde Nature doth create
Bodies, in time distinct, and order due;
So God giues soules the like successiue date,
VVhich himselfe makes, in bodies formed new.
VVhich himselfe makes, of no materiall thing;
For vnto Angels he no power hath giuen,
Either to forme the shape, or stuffe to bring,
From aire, or fire, or substance of the heauen.
Nor he in this doth Natures seruice vse;
That the Soule is not traduced frō the parents.
For though from bodies she can bodies bring,
Yet could she neuer soules from soules traduce,
As fire from fire, or light from light doth spring.
Alas, that some that were great lights of old,
And in their hands the lampe of God did beare,
Some reuerend Fathers did this error hold,
Hauing their eyes dim'd with religious feare!
For when (say they) by rule of faith we find,
That euery soule vnto her bodie knit,
Brings from the mothers wombe, the sinne of kind,
The roote of all the ill she doth commit;
How can we say, that God the Soule doth make,
But we must make him author of her sinne?
Then from mans soule she doth beginning take,
Since in mans soule Corruption did begin.
For if God make her, first he makes her ill,
(Which God forbid our thoghts should yeeld vnto)
Or makes the body her faire forme to spill,
Which of it selfe it had no powre to do.
Not Adams bodie, but his soule did sinne,
And so her selfe vnto corruption brought;
But our poore Soule corrupted is within,
Ere she hath sinn'd, either in act, or thought;
And yet we see in her such powres diuine,
As we could gladly thinke, from God she came;
Faine would we make him author of the wine,
If for the dregs we could some other blame.
The answer to the obiection.
Thus these good men, with holy zeale were blind;When on the other part the truth did shine,
Whereof we do cleare demonstrations find,
By light of nature, and by light deuine.
None are so grosse, as to contend for this,
That soules from bodies may traduced bee;
Betweene whose natures no proportion is,
When roote and branch in nature still agree;
But many subtill wits haue iustifi'd,
That Soules from Soules spiritually may spring;
Which (if the nature of the Soule be try'd)
Will euen in nature proue as grosse a thing.
For all things made, are either made of nought,
Reasons drawne from Nature.
Or made of stuffe that ready made doth stand;
Of nought no creature euer formed ought,
For that is proper to th'Almighties hand.
If then the Soule another Soule do make,
Because her power is kept within a bound,
She must some former stuffe or matter take;
But in the Soule there is no matter found.
Then if her heauenly Forme do not agree
With any matter, which the world containes,
Then she of nothing must created bee,
And to create, to God alone pertaines.
Againe, if soules do other soules beget,
Tis by themselues, or by the bodies powre;
If by themselues, what doth their working let,
But they might soules engender euery houre?
If by the body, how can wit and will
Ioyne with the body onely in this act?
Since when they do their other works fulfill,
They from the body do themselues abstract?
Againe, if Soules of Soules begotten were,
Into each other they should change, and moue;
And change and motion still corruption beare;
How shall we then the Soule immortall proue?
If lastly Soules did generation vse,
Then should they spread incorruptible seed?
What then becomes of that which they do loose,
When th'acts of generation do not speed?
And though the Soule could cast spirituall seed,
Yet would she not, because she neuer dies;
For mortall things desire their like to breed,
That so they may their kind immortalize.
Therefore the Angels, sonnes of God are nam'd,
And marrie not, nor are in mariage giuen,
Their spirits and ours are of one substance fram'd,
And haue one Father, euen the Lord of heauen;
Who would at first, that in each other thing,
The earth, and water liuing soules should breed;
But that Mans soule, whom he wold make their king,
Should from himselfe immediatly proceed.
And when he tooke the woman from mans side,
Doubtlesse himselfe inspir'd her soule alone:
For tis not sayd, he did mans soule deuide,
But tooke flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone.
Lastly God, being made Man for Mans owne sake,
And being like Man in all, except in Sinne,
His Bodie from the Virgins wombe did take;
But all agree, God form'd his soule within.
Then is the Soule from God; so Pagans say,
Which saw by natures light, her heauenly kind,
Naming her kin to God, and Gods bright ray,
A Citizen of heauen, to earth confin'd.
But now I feele, they plucke me by the eare,
Whom my young Muse so boldly termed blind,
And craue more heauenly light, that cloud to cleare,
Which makes them thinke, God doth not make the mind.
God doubtlesse makes her, and doth make her good,
Reasons drawne from diuinitie.
And graffes her in the body, there to spring,
Which though it be corrupted, flesh and bloud
Can no way to the Soule corruption bring;
And yet this Soule (made good by God at first,
And not corrupted by the Bodies ill)
Euen in the Wombe is sinfull, and accurst,
Ere she can Iudge by wit, or choose by will.
Yet is not God the Author of her Sinne,
Though Author of her being, and being there,
And if we dare to iudge our Iudge herein,
He can condemne vs, and himselfe can cleere.
First God from infinite eternitie
Decreed, what hath bene, is, or shall be done,
And was resolu'd; that euery Man should bee,
And in his turne, his race of life should runne.
And so did purpose all the Soules to make,
That euer haue bene made, or euer shall,
And that their being they should onely take,
In humane bodies, or not be at all.
Was it then fit, that such a weake euent,
(VVeaknesse it selfe, the sinne and fall of Man)
His Counsels execution should preuent,
Decreed and fixt before the world began?
Or that one penall law by Adam broke,
Should make God breake his owne eternall law,
The setled order of the world reuoke,
And change all formes of things, which he foresaw?
Could Eues weake hand, extended to the tree,
In sunder rent that Adamantine chaine,
Whose golden linkes effects and causes bee,
And which to Gods owne chaire doth fixt remaine?
O, could we see, how cause from cause doth spring!
How mutually they linckt and folded are!
And heare how oft one disagreeing string,
The harmonie doth rather make, then marre!
And view at once how death by stone is brought,
And how from death a better life doth rise;
How this Gods iustice, and his mercy to light,
We this decree would praise, as right and wise.
But we that measure tunes by first and last,
The sight of things successiuely do take,
When God on all at once his view doth cast,
And of all times, doth but one instant make.
All in him selfe as in a glasse he sees,
For from him, by him, through him, all things be;
His sight is not discoursiue by degrees,
But seeing the whole, each single part doth see.
He lookes on Adam, as a roote, or well,
And on his heires, as branches, and as streames;
He sees all men as one man, though they dwell
In sundry Cities, and in sundry Realmos;
And as the roote and branch are but one tree,
And well and streame, do but one riuer make,
So, if the roote, and well corrupted bee,
The streame and branch the same corruption take;
So when the roote and fountaine of mankind,
Did draw corruption, and Gods curse by sinne,
This was a charge, that all his heires did bind,
And all his of-spring grew corrupt therein.
And as when th'hand doth strike, the Man offends,
(For part from whole, law seuers not in this;)
So Adams sinne to the whole kind extends,
For all their Natures are but part of his.
Therefore this sinne of kind, not personall,
But reall, and hereditarie was,
The guilt whereof, and punishment to all,
By course of Nature, and of Law doth passe.
For as that Easie law was giuen to all,
To auncestor, and heire, to first, and last,
So was the first transgression generall,
And all did plucke the fruite, and all did tast.
Of this we find some footsteps in our Law,
Which doth her Roote from God and Nature take,
Ten thousand Men she doth together draw,
And of them All, one Corporation make;
Yet these and their Successors are but one,
And if they gaine, or loose their liberties,
They harme or profite not themselues alone,
But such as in succecding time shall rise.
And so the Auncestor, and all his heires,
Though they in number passe the starres of heauen,
Are still but one; his forfeitures are theirs,
And vnto them are his aduancements giuen.
His Ciuill acts do bind and barre them all;
And as from Adam all corruption take,
So if the Fathers crime be capitall,
In all the blood, law doth corruption make.
Is it then iust with vs, to disinherit
The vnborne Nephewes, for the Fathers fault?
And to aduance againe for one mans merit,
A thousand heires, that haue deserued nought?
And is not Gods decree as iust as ours,
If he for Adams sinne, his sonnes depriue
Of all those natiue vertues, and those powres,
Which he to him and to his race did giue?
For what is this contagious sinne of kind,
But a priuation of that grace within?
And of that great rich dowrie of the mind,
Which all had had, but for the first mans sinne?
If then a man on light conditions gaine
A great estate, to him and his for euer,
If wilfully he forfeit it againe,
Who doth bemone his heire? or blame the giuer?
So though God make the Soule good, rich and faire,
Yet when her forme is to the body knit,
Which makes the Man, which Man is Adams heire,
Iustly forthwith he takes his grace from it.
And then the Soule, being first from nothing brought,
When Gods grace failes her, doth to nothing fall;
And this declining prouesse vnto nought,
Is euen that sinne that we are borne withall.
Yet not alone the first good qualities,
VVhich in the first Soule were, depriued are,
But in their place the contrarie do rise,
And reall spots of sinne her beautie marre.
Nor is it strange, that Adams ill desart,
Should be transferd vnto his guiltie Race,
VVhen Christ his grace and iustice doth impart
To men vniust, and such as haue no grace.
Lastly, the Soule were better so to bee
Borne slaue to sinne, then not to be at all,
Since (if shee do beleeue) one sets her free,
That makes her mount the higher from her fall.
Yet this the curious wits will not content;
They yet will know, (since God foresaw this ill)
VVhy his high prouidence did not preuent,
The declination of the first mans will.
If by his word he had the current stayd,
Of Adams will, which was by nature free,
It had bene one, as if his word had sayd,
I will henceforth, that Man no man shall be,
For what is Man without a mouing mind,
Which hath a iudging wit, and choosing will?
Now, if Gods power should her election bind,
Her motions then would cease, and stand all still.
And why did God in man this Soule infuse,
But that he should his maker know, and loue?
Now if loue be compeld, and cannot chuse,
How can it gratefull, or thank worthie proue?
Loue must free hearted bee, and voluntarie,
And not enchaunted, or by Fate constraind;
Not like that loue, which did Vlysses carie
To Circes Ile, with mightie charmes enchaind.
Besides, were we vnchangeable in will,
And of a wit that nothing could misdeeme;
Equall to God, whose wisedome shineth still,
Aud neuer erres, we might our selues esteeme.
So that if man would be vnuariable,
He must be God, or like a Rocke, or Tree;
For euen the perfect Angels were not stable,
But had a fall, more desperate then we.
Then let vs praise that Power, which makes vs bee
Men as we are, and rest contented so;
And knowing mans fall was curiositie,
Admite Gods counsels, which we cannot know,
And let vs know that God the maker is
Of all the Soules, in all the men that bee,
Yet their Corruption is no fault of his,
But the first Mans, that broke Gods first decree.
This substance and this spirit of Gods owne making,
Is in the bodie plac't,
Why the soule is vnited to the bodie.
and planted here,That both of God and of the world partaking,
Of all that is, man might the image beare.
God first made Angels bodilesse pure minds,
Then other things, which mindlesse bodies bee;
Last he made man th'Horizon twixt both kinds,
In whom we do the worlds abridgement see.
Besides, this world below did need one wight,
Which might thereof distinguish euerie part,
Make vse thereof, and take therein delight,
And order things with industrie, and Art.
Which also God might in his works admire,
And here beneath, yeeld him both prayer and praise,
As there, aboue, the holy Angels Quire
Doth spread his glorie, with spirituall layes.
Lastly, the bruite vnreasonable wights,
Did want a visible king on them to raigne;
And God himselfe thus to the world vnites,
That so the world might endlesse blisse obtaine.
But how shall we this vnion well expresse?
In what maner the soule is vnited to the body.
Nought tyes the Soule, her subtiltie is such;
She moues the body, which she doth possesse,
Yet no part toucheth, but by vertues touch.
Then dwels she not therein as in a tent,
Nor as a Pilot in his Ship doth sit;
Nor as a Spider in her Web is pent;
Nor as the Waxe retaines the print in it;
Nor as a Vessell water doth containe;
Nor as one Liquor in another shed;
Nor as the heate doth in the fire remaine,
Nor as a voyce throughout the aire is spred.
But as the faire, and cheerefull morning light,
Doth here and there her siluer beames impart,
And in an instant doth her selfe vnite
To the transparent Aire, in all and part;
Still resting whole, when blowes the Aire deuide;
Abiding pure, when th'Aire is most corrupted;
Throughout the Aire her beames dispersing wide,
And, when the Aire is tost, not interrupted;
So doth the piercing Soule the body fill,
Being all in all, and all in part diffus'd
Indiuisible, vncorruptible still,
Not forc't, encountred, troubled, or confus'd.
And as the Sunne aboue the light doth bring,
Though we behold it in the Aire below;
So from th'eternall light the Soule doth spring,
Though in the Body she her powers do show.
Howe the Soule doth exercise her powers in the body.
But as the worlds Sunne doth effects beget,Diuerse, in diuerse places euery day;
Here Autumnes temperature, there Summers heate.
Here flowry Spring-tide, and there VVinter gray;
Here Euē, there Morn, here Noon, there Day, there night,
Melts wax, dries clay, makes floures some quick some dead;
Makes the More black, & th'European white,
Th'American tawny, and th'East Indian red:
So in our litle world this Soule of ours,
Being onely one, and to one body tyed,
Doth vse on diuerse obiects diuerse powers,
And so are her effects diuersified.
The vegetariue or quickening power.
Her quickning power in euery liuing part,Doth as a Nurse, or as a Mother serue,
And doth employ her oeconomicke Art,
And busie care, her houshold to preserue.
Here she attracts, and there she doth retaine,
There she decocts, and doth the food prepare[?],
There she distributes it to euery vaine,
There she expels what she may fitly spare.
This power to Martha may compared bee,
Which busie was, the houshold things to do;
Or to a Dryas liuing in a Tree,
For euen to Trees this power is proper too.
And though the Soule may not this power extend
Out of the Body, but still vse it there,
She hath a power, which she abroad doth send,
Which viewes and searcheth all things euery where,
This power is Sense,
The power of Sense.
which from abroad doth bringThe colour, tast; and touch, and sent, and sound,
The quantitie, and shape of euery thing,
Within th'earths Center, or heauens Circle found.
This power in parts made fit, fit obiects takes,
Yet not the things, but Formes of things receiues;
As when a Seale in Waxe impression makes,
The print therein, but not it selfe, it leaues.
And though things sensible be numberlesse,
But onely fiue the Senses Organs bee;
And in those fiue All things their Formes expresse,
Which we can touch, tast, feele, or heare, or see.
These are the windowes, through the which she viewes
The light of knowledge which is lifes load-starre;
" And yet whiles she these spectacles doth vse,
" Oft worldly things seeme greater then they are.
Sight.
First the two Eyes, which haue the Seeing power,Stand as one watchman, Spie, or Sentinell,
Being plac'd aloft within the Heads high Tower;
And though both see, yet both but one thing tell.
These Mirrors take into their litle space,
The formes of Moone and Sunne, and euery Starre,
Of euery Body, and of euery place,
Which with the worlds wide Armes embraced are.
Yet their best obiect, and their noblest vse,
Hereafter in another world will bee,
When God in them shall heauenly light infuse,
That face to face they may their Maker see.
Here are they guides, which do the Body leade;
Which else would stumble in eternall night;
Here in this world they do much knowledge reade,
And are the Casements which admit most light:
They are her farthest reaching Instrument,
Yet they no beames vnto their Obiects send,
But all the rayes are from their Obiects sent,
And in the Eyes with pointed Angles end.
If th'obiects be farre off, the rayes do meete
In a sharpe point, and so things seeme but small;
If they be neare, their rayes do spread and fleete,
And make broad points, that things seeme great withall.
Lastly, Nine things to Sight required are,
The power to see, the light, the visible thing,
Being not too small, too thinne, too nigh, too farre,
Cleare space, and time the forme distinct to bring.
Thus see we how the Soule doth vse the Eyes,
As instruments of her quicke power of sight;
Hence do th'Arts Optike, and faire painting rise;
Painting which doth all gentle minds delight.
Now let vs heare how she the Eares employes;
Hearing.
Their office is the troubled Aire to take,
Which in their Mazes formes a sound or noise,
Whereof her selfe doth true distinction make.
These wickets of the Soule are plac'd on hie,
Because all sounds do lightly mount aloft;
And that they may not pierce too violently,
They are delayed with turnes and windings oft.
For should the voice directly strike the braine,
It would astonish and confuse it much;
Therefore these plaits and folds the sound restraine,
That it the Organ may more gently touch.
As Streames, which with their winding banks do play,
Stopt by their Creeks, run softly through the plaine;
So in the Eares labrinth the voyce doth stray,
And doth with easie motion touch the braine.
It is the slowest, yet the daintiest Sense,
For euen the eares of such as haue no skill,
Perceiue a discord, and conceiue Offence,
And knowing not what is good, yet find the ill.
And though this Sense first gentle Musicke found,
Her proper obiect is the speech of men;
But that speech chiefly, which Gods herralds sound,
When their Tongs vtter, what his Spirit did pen.
Our Eyes haue lids, our Eares still ope we see,
Quickly to heare, how euery tale is proued;
Our Eyes still moue, our Eares vnmoued bee,
That though we heare quicke, we be not quickly moued.
Thus by the Organs of the Eye and Eare,
The Soule with knowledge doth her selfe endew;
Thus she her prison may with pleasure beare,
Hauing such prospect All the world to view.
These Conduit pipes of knowledge, feed the mind,
But th'other three attend the Body still;
For by their seruices the Soule doth find,
What things are to the Body good, or ill.
Taste.
The Bodies life with meates and Aire is fed,Therefore the Soule doth vse the tasting power,
In Veines, which through the Tong & Palate spred,
Distinguish euery rellish, sweete, and sower.
This is the Bodies Nurse; but since mans wit
Found th'art of Cookerie, to delight his Sense,
More bodies are consum'd and kild with it,
Then with the sword, famine, or pestilence.
Next in the Nosthrils she doth vse the smell,
Smelling.
As God the breath of life in them did giue,
So makes he now his power in them to dwell,
To iudge all Aires, whereby we breath and liue.
This Sense is also mistresse of an Art,
Which to soft people sweete perfumes doth sell:
Though this deare Art doth litle good impart,
"Since they smell best, that do of nothing smell.
And yet good sents do purifie the braine,
Awake the Fancie, and the Wits refine;
Hence old Deuotion, Incense did ordaine,
To make mens spirits more apt for thoughts diuine.
Lastly the Feeling power,
Feeling.
which is Lifes roote,Through euery liuing part it selfe doth shed,
By sinewes which extend from head to foote,
And like a Net all ore the body spred.
Much like a subtill Spider, which doth sit
In middle of her Web, which spreadeth wide,
If ought do touch the vtmost threed of it,
She feeles it instantly on euery side.
By touch the first pure qualities we learne,
Which quicken all things hote, cold, moyst, and drie;
By touch, hard, soft, rough, smooth, we do discerne;
By touch, sweete pleasure, and sharpe paine we trie.
These are the outward Instruments of Sense;
These are the Guards, which euery thing must passe,
Ere it approch the minds intelligence,
Or touch the Phantasie, wits looking glasse.
The imaginatiō or cō mon Sense.
And yet these Porters which all things admit,Them selues perceiue not, nor discerne the things:
One Common power doth in the forehead sit,
Which all their proper formes together brings.
For all those Nerues, which spirits of Sense do beare,
And to those outward Organs spreading go,
Vnited are as in a Center there,
And there this power those sundry forms doth know.
Those outward Organs present things receiue,
This inward Sense doth absent things retaine;
Yet straight transmits all formes she doth perceiue,
Vnto a higher region of the braine.
The Phantasie.
Where Phantasie, neare handmaid to the mind,Sits, and beholds, and doth discerne them all;
Compounds in one, things diuerse in their kind;
Compares the blacke and white, the great and small.
Besides those single formes, she doth esteeme,
And in her Ballance doth their values trie,
Where some things good, & som things ill do seeme,
And neutrall some in her phantasticke eye.
This busie power is working day and night;
For when the outward Senses rest do take,
A thousand Dreames phantasticall and light,
With fluttering wings do keepe her still awake.
Yet alwayes all may not afore her bee;
The sensatiue memorie.
Successiuely she this, and that intends;
Therefore such formes as she doth cease to see,
To Memories large volume she commends.
This Lidger Booke lyes in the braine behind,
Like Ianus eye, which in his poll was set;
The Lay-mans Tables, Storehouse of the mind,
Which doth remember much, and much forget.
Here Senses Apprehension end doth take,
As when a Stone is into water cast,
One Circle doth another Circle make,
Till the last circle touch the banke at last.
But though the apprehensiue power do pawse,
The passions of Sense.
The Motiue vertue then begins to moue,
Which in the heart below doth passions cause,
Ioy, griefe, and feare, and hope, and hate, and loue.
These passions haue a free Commaunding might,
And diuerse Actions in our life do breed;
For all Acts done without true reasons light,
Do from the passion of the Sense proceed.
But sith the Braine doth lodge these powers of Sense,
How makes it in the heart those passions spring?
The mutuall loue, the kind intelligence
Twixt heart and braine, this sympathy doth bring.
From the kind heate, which in the heart doth raigne,
The spirits of life do their beginning take;
These spirits of life ascending to the braine,
When they come there, the spirits of Sense do make.
These spirits of Sense in Phantasies high Court,
Iudge of the formes of Obiects ill or well;
And so they send a good or ill report,
Downe to the hart, where all Affections dwell.
If the report be good, it causeth loue,
And longing hope, and well assured ioy:
If it be ill, then doth it hatred moue,
And trembling feare, and vexing griefes annoy.
Yet were these naturall affections good;
(For they which want them blocks or diuels be)
If reason in her first perfection stood,
That she might Natures passions rectifie.
Besides, an other Motiue power doth rise
The motion of life.
Out of the hart: from whose pure bloud do spring,
The vitall Spirits, which borne in Arteries,
Continuall motion to all parts do bring.
This makes the pulses beate, and lungs respire,
The locall motion.
This holds the sinewes like a bridles Raines,
And makes the body to aduaunce, retire,
To turne, or stop, as she them slacks, or straines.
Thus the Soule tunes the bodies Instrument;
These harmonies she makes with life and sense;
The organes fit are by the body lent,
But th'actions flow from the Soules influence.
But now I haue a will, yet want a wit,
The intellectual powers of the soule.
To expresse the working of the wit and will,
Which though their roote be to the body knit,
Vse not the body, when they vse their skill.
These powers the nature of the Soule declare,
For to mans Soule these onely proper bee;
For on the earth no other wights there are,
Which haue these heauenly powers, but only wee.
The wit, the pupill of the Soules cleare eye,
The wit or vnderstanding.
And in mans world the onely shining Starre;
Lookes in the mirrour of the phantasie,
Where all the gatherings of the Senses are.
From thence this power the shapes of things abstracts,
And them within her passiu part receiues;
Which are enlightned by that part which acts,
And so the formes of single things perceiues.
But after by discoursing to and fro,
Anticipating, and comparing things;
She doth all vniuersall natures know,
And all effectes into their causes brings.
Reason.
When she rates things, & moues frō ground to ground,The name of Reason she obtaines by this:
But when by reasons she the truth hath found,
Vnderstanding.
And standeth fixt, she vnderstanding is.When her assent she lighly doth encline
Opinion.
To either part, she is opinion light:But when she doth by principles define
Iudgement.
A Certaine truth, she hath true Iudgements sight.And as from Senses Reasons worke doth spring,
So many Reasons vnderstanding gaine,
And many vnderstandings, knowledge bring;
And by much knowledge, wisdome we obtaine.
So, many staires we must ascend vpright,
Ere we attaine to wisdomes high degree;
So doth this earth eclipse our reasons light,
Which else (in instants) would like Angels see.
Yet hath the Soule a dowrie naturall,
And sparks of light some common things to see;
Not being a blanck, where nought is writ at all,
But what the writer will may written bee:
For nature in mans hart her lawes doth pen;
Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will;
Which do accuse, or else excuse all men,
For euery thought, or practise, good, or ill.
And yet these sparks grow almost infinite,
Making the world, and all therein their food;
As fire so spreads as no place holdeth it,
Being nourisht still, with new supplies of wood.
And though these sparks were almost quēcht with sin,
Yet they whom that Iust one hath Iustifide;
Haue them encreasd, with heauenly light within,
And like the widowes oyle still multiplide.
And as this wit should goodnesse truly know,
The power of will.
We haue a wit which that true good should chuse;
Though will do oft, (when wit false formes doth show.
Take ill for good, and good for ill refuse.
VVill puts in practise what the wit deuiseth;
The Relation [...]
VVill euer acts, and wit contemplates still,
And as from wit the power of wisdome riseth,
All other vertues daughters are of will.
VVill is the Prince, and wit the Counsellour,
Which doth for common good in Councell sit;
And when wit is resolu'd, will lends her power,
To execute, what is aduisd by wit.
Wit is the minds chief Iudge, which doth Comptroule
Of fancies Court the iudgements false and vaine;
VVill holds the royall Scepter in the Soule,
And on the passions of the hart doth raigne.
VVill is as Free as any Emperour;
Nought can restraigne her gentle libertie:
No Tyrant, nor no Torment hath the powre,
To make vs will, when we vnwilling bee.
The intellectuall memorie.
To these high powers a Store-house doth pertaine,Where they all Arts and generall Reasons lay,
Which in the Soule, euen after death remaine,
And no Lethoean Flud can wash away.
This is the Soule and those her vertues bee,
Which though they haue their sundry proper ends,
And one exceeds another in degree,
Yet each on other mutually depends.
Our wit is giuen, Almightie God to know;
Our will is giuen to loue him being knowne;
But God could not be knowne to vs below,
But by his works, which through the sense are shown;
And as the wit doth reape the fruits of sense,
So doth the quickning powre the senses feed;
Thus while they do their sundry gifts dispence,
The best the seruice of the least doth need.
Euen so the King his Magistrats do serue;
Yet commons feede both Magistrate and King;
The cōmons peace the Magistrats preserue.
By borrowed power, which from the Prince doth spring.
The quickning power would be, and so would rest;
The sense would not be onely, but be well;
But wits ambition longeth to be best,
For it desires in endlesse blisse to dwell.
And these three powers three sorts of men do make;
For some like plants their veines do onely fill;
And some like beasts their senses pleasure take;
And some like Angels do Contemplate still.
Therefore the fables turnd some men to flowers,
And others did with brutish formes inuest,
And did of others make Celestiall powers,
Like Angels, which still trauell, yet still rest.
Yet these three powres are not three Soules, but one;
As one and two are both containd in three,
Three being one number by it selfe alone;
A shadow of the blessed Trinitie.
An Acclamation.
O what is man (great maker of mankind)That thou to him so great respect dost beare?
That thou adornst him with so bright a mind,
Mak'st him a king, and euen an Angels peere?
O what a liuely life, what heauenly power,
What spreading vertue, what a sparkling Fire,
How great, how plentifull, how rich a dowre,
Do'st thou within this dying Flesh inspire!
Thou leau'st thy print in other workes of thine,
But thy whole image thou in man hast writ;
There cannot be a creature more diuine,
Except (like thee) it should be infinit.
But it exceeds mans thought, to think how high
God hath raizd man, since God a man became;
The Angels do admire this mysterie,
And are astonisht when they view the same.
That the soule is immortall, and cannot dye.
Nor hath he giuen these blessings for a day,Nor made them on the bodies life depend;
The Soule, though made in time, Suruiues for aye,
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.
Her onely end, is neuer ending blisse;
Which is, th'eternall Face of God to see;
Who last of ends, and first of causes is,
And to do this, she must eternall bee.
How senslesse then and dead a Soule hath hee,
Which thinks his Soule doth with his body dye?
Or thinks not so, but so would haue it bee,
That he might sinne with more securitie?
For though these light and vicious persons say,
Our Soule is but a smoke, or ayery blast,
Which during life doth in our nosthrils play,
And when we die, doth turne to wind at last;
Although they say, come, let vs eate and drinke,
Our life is but a sparke, which quickly dyes;
Though thus they say, they know not what to thinke,
But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise.
Therefore no heretikes desire to spread
Their light opinions, like these Epicures;
For so their staggering thoughts are comforted,
And other mens assent their doubt assures.
Yet though these men against their conscience striue,
There are some sparkles in their flintie breasts,
Which cannot be extinct, but still reuiue,
That though they would, they cannot quite be beasts.
But who so makes a mirror of his mind,
And doth with patience view himselfe therein,
His Soules eternitie shall clearly find,
Though th'other beauties be defac't with sinne.
Reason. Drawne frō the desire of knowledge.
First in mans mind we find an appetiteTo learne and know the truth of euery thing,
Which is connaturall, and borne with it,
And from the Essence of the Soule doth spring.
With this desire she hath a natiue might
To find out euery truth, if she had time
Th'innumerable effects to sort aright,
And by degrees from cause to cause to clime.
But since our life so fast away doth slide,
As doth a hungry Eagle through the wind,
Or as a Ship transported with the tide,
Which in their passage leaue no print behind;
Of which swift litle time so much we spend,
While some few things we through the sense do straine;
That our short race of life is at an end,
Ere we the principles of skill attaine.
Or God (which to vaine ends hath nothing done)
In vaine this appetite and power hath giuen,
Or else our knowledge which is here begon,
Hereafter must be perfected in heauen.
God neuer gaue a power to one whole kind,
But most part of that kind did vse the same;
Most eyes haue perfect sight, though some be blind;
Most leggs can nymbly run, though some be lame;
But in this life no Soule the truth can know
So perfectly, as it hath power to do;
If then perfection be not found below,
An higher place must make her mount thereto.
Againe, how can she but immortall bee?
Reason. Drawn from the motiō of the Soule.
When with the motions of both will and wit,
She still aspireth to eternitie,
And neuer rests, till she attaine to it?
Water in conduit pipes can rise no higher
Then the well head, from whence it first doth spring;
Then since to eternall God she doth aspire,
She cannot be but an eternall thing.
" All mouing things to other things do moue
" Of the same kind, which shewes their nature such;
So earth fals downe, and fire doth mount aboue,
Till both their proper Elements do touch.
And as the moisture which the thirstie earth
The Soule compared to a Riuer.
Suckes from the sea, to fill her emptie vaines,
From out her wombe at last doth take a birth,
And runnes a Nymph along the grassie plaines;
Long doth she stay, as loath to leaue the land,
From whose soft side she first did issue make;
She tastes all places, turnes to euery hand,
Her flowrie bankes vnwilling to forsake:
Yet nature so her streames doth lead and carry,
As that her course doth make no finall stay,
Till she her selfe vnto the Ocean marry,
Within whose watry bosome first she lay;
Euen so the Soule, which in this earthly mould
The Spirit of God doth secretly infuse;
Because at first she doth the earth behold,
And onely this materiall world she viewes;
At first our mother earth she holdeth dere,
And doth embrace the world and worldly things;
She flyes close by the ground, and houers here,
And mounts not vp, with her celestiall wings.
Yet vnder heauen she cannot light on ought,
That with her heauenly nature doth agree;
She cannot rest, she cannot fixe her thought,
She cannot in this world contented be.
For who did euer yet in honour, wealth,
Or pleasure of the sense contentment find?
Who euer ceasd' to wish, when he had health;
Or hauing wisedome, was not vext in mind?
Then as a Bee which among weeds doth fall
Which seeme sweet floures, with lustre fresh, & gay,
She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all,
But pleasd' with none, doth rise and fore away;
So when the soule finds here no true content,
And like Noahs Doue can no sure footing take,
She doth returne from whence she first was sent,
And flyes to him that first her wings did make.
VVit seeking truth, from cause to cause ascends,
And neuer rests, till it the first attaine;
VVill, seeking good, finds manie middle ends,
But neuer stayes, till it the last do gaine.
Now God the Truth and first of causes is,
God is the last good end, which lasteth still,
Being Alpha and ωmega nam'd for this,
Alpha to wit, ωmega to the will.
Sith then her heauenly kind she doth bewray,
In that to God she doth directly moue;
And on no mortall thing can make her stay,
She cannot be from hence, but from aboue.
And yet this first true cause, and last good end,
She cannot heare so well, and truely see;
For this perfection she must yet attend,
Till to her maker she espoused bee.
As a Kings daughters, being in person sought
Of diuerse Princes, which do neighbour neare,
On none of them can fixe a constant thought,
Though she to all do lend a gentle eare;
Yet can she loue a Forraine Emperour,
Whom of great worth, and power she heares to bee,
If she be woo'd but by Embassadour,
Or but his letters, or his picture see;
For well she knowes, that when she shalbe brought
Into the Kingdome, where her spouse doth raigne,
Her eyes shall see, what she conceiu'd in thought,
Himselfe, his state, his glorie, and his traine;
So while the virgin Soule on Earth doth stay,
She woo'd and tempted is ten thousand wayes
By these great powers, which on the earth beare sway,
The wisedome of the world, wealth, pleasure, praise.
With these sometime she doth her time beguile,
These do by fits her phantasie possesse;
But she distasts them all within a while,
And in the sweetest finds a Tediousnesse.
But if vpon the worlds Almightie King,
She once do fixe her humble louing thought,
Which by his picture drawne in euerie thing,
And sacred messages her loue hath sought;
Of him she thinks she cannot thinke too much,
This hony tasted still, is euer sweete;
The pleasure of her rauisht thought is such,
As almost here, she with her blisse doth meete.
But when in heauen she shall his Essence see,
This is her soueraigne good, and perfect blisse,
Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finisht bee,
Her ioyes are full, her Motions rest in this;
There is she Crownd with garlands of content,
There doth she Manna eate, and Nectar drinke;
That presence doth such high delights present,
As neuer tongue could speake, nor hart could think.
For this the better Soules do oft despise
Reason. Frō contēpt of death in the better sort of spirits
The bodies death, and do it oft desire:
For when on ground the burthened ballance lyes,
The emptie part is lifted vp the higher.
But if the bodies death the Soule should kill,
Then death must needs against her nature bee;
And were it so, all Soules would flye it still,
For Nature hates and shunnes her contrarie.
For all things else, which Nature makes to bee,
Their being to preserue are cheifly taught;
For though some things desire a chaunge to see,
Yet neuer thing did long to turne to nought.
If then by death the soule were quenched quite,
She could not thus against her nature runne;
Since euerie senslesse thing by Natures light,
Doth preseruation seeke, destruction shunne.
Nor could the worlds best spirits so much erre,
If death tooke all, that they should all agree,
Before this life their honor to preferre;
For what is praise to things that nothing bee?
Againe, if by the bodies prop she stand,
If on the bodies life, her life depend,
As Meleagers on the fatall brand,
The bodies good she onely would intend.
We should not find her halfe so braue and bold,
To lead it to the warres, and to the Seas;
To make it suffer watching, hunger, cold,
When it might feed with plentie, rest with ease.
Doubtlesse all Soules haue a suruiuing thought;
Therefore of death we thinke with quiet mind;
But if we thinke of being turn'd to nought,
A trembling horror in our Soules we find.
Reason. From the feare of death in the wicked soules.
And as the better spirit, when she doth beareA scorne of death, doth shew she cannot dye;
So when the wicked Soule deaths face doth feare,
Euen then she proues her owne Eternity.
For when deaths forme appeares, she feareth not
An vtter quenching, or extinguishment;
She would be glad to meere with such a lot,
That so she might all future ill preuent;
But she doth doubt what after may befall;
For natures law accuseth her within,
And saith, T'is true that is affirm'd by all,
That after Death there is a paine for sinne.
Then she which hath bene hudwinckt from her birth,
Doth first her selfe within Deaths mirror see;
And when her bodie doth returne to earth,
She first takes care, how she alone shall bee.
Who euer sees these irreligious men,
With burthen of a sicknesse weake and faint;
But heares them talking of religion then,
And vowing of their Soules to euery Saint?
When was there euer cursed Atheist brought
Vnto the Gibbet, but he did adore
That blessed power, which he had set at nought,
Scorn'd and blasphemed, all his life before?
These light vaine persons still are drunke and mad,
With surfettings, and pleasures of their youth;
But at their deaths they are fresh, sober, sad,
Then they discerne, and then they speake the truth.
If then all Soules both good and bad do teach,
With generall voice, that Soules can neuer dye;
T'is not mans flattering glose, but Natures speach,
Which like Gods oracle, can neuer lye.
[...]
Reason. Frō the generall desire of Immortalitie.
Hence springs that vniuersall strong desire,Which all men haue of Immortalitie;
Not some Few spirits vnto this thought aspire,
But all mens minds in this vnited bee.
Then this desire of Nature is not vaine,
" She couets not Impossibilities;
" Fond thoughts may fall into some idle braine,
" But one Assent of all, is euerwise.
From hence that generall care and studie springs,
That launching and progression of the mind,
Which all men haue so much of Future things,
As they no ioy do in the present find.
From this desire, that maine desire proceeds,
Which all men haue, suruiuing Fame to gaine,
By Tombes, by Bookes, by memorable Deedes;
For she that this desires, doth still remaine.
Hence lastly springs Care of posterities,
For things their kind would euerlasting make;
Hence is it, that old men do plant young Trees,
The fruite whereof another age shall take.
If we these Rules vnto our selues apply,
And view them by reflection of the mind;
All these true notes of Immortalitie,
In our Hearts Tables we shall written find.
And though some impious wits do questions moue,
And doubt if Soules immortall be or no;
That doubt their Immortalitie doth proue,
Reason. Frō the very doubt and disputation of Immortalitie.
Because they seeme immortall things to know.
For he which reasons on both parts doth bring,
Doth some things mortall, some immortall call;
Now if himselfe were but a mortall thing,
He could not Iudge immortall things at all.
For when we iudge, our minds we mirrours make;
And as those glasses which materiall bee,
Formes of materiall things do onely take;
For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see:
So when we God and Angels do conceiue,
And thinke of truth, which is eternall to;
Then do our minds immortall formes receiue,
Which if they mortall were, they could not do.
And as if beasts conceiu'd what Reason were,
And that conception should distinctly show,
They should the name of reasonable beare;
For without Reason none could reason know.
So when the Soule mounts with so high a wing,
As of eternall things she doubts can moue;
She proofes of her eternitie doth bring,
Euen when she striues the contrary to proue.
For euen the thought of Immortalitie,
Being an act done without the bodies aide,
Shewes that her selfe alone could moue, and bee,
Although the body in the graue were laide.
And if her selfe she can so liuely moue,
And neuer need a forraine helpe to take,
Then must her motion euerlasting proue,
"Because her selfe she neuer can forsake.
That the Soule cānot be destroyed
But though corruption cannot touch the mind,By any cause that from it selfe may spring;
Some outward cause fate hath perhaps designd,
Which to the Soule may vtter quenching bring.
[...] cauie[?] [...]seth [...]o.
Perhaps her cause may cease, and she may die;God is her cause, his word her maker was,
Which shall stand fixt for all eternitie,
When heauen and earth shall like a shadow passe.
She hath no contrary.
Perhaps some thing repugnant to her kind,By strong Antipathy the Soule may kill;
But what can be contrarie to the mind,
Which holds all contraries in concord still?
She[?] lodgeth heate, and cold, and moist, and drye,
And life, and death, and peace, and warre together,
Ten thousand fighting things in her do lye,
Yet neither troubleth or disturbeth either.
Perhaps for want of foode the Soule may pine;
She cannot dye for want of food.
But that were strange, since all things bad and good,
Since all Gods creatures mortall and diuine,
Since God himselfe is her eternall food.
Bodies are fed with things of mortall kind,
And so are subiect to mortalitie;
But truth, which is eternall, feeds the mind;
The tree of life which will not let her dye.
Yet violence perhaps the Soule destroyes;
Violence not destroy her.
As lightning or the Sun-beames dimme the sight;
Or as a thunder-clap or Cannons noyse,
The powre of hearing doth astonish quite.
But high perfection to the Soule it brings,
T'encounter things most excellent and high;
For when she viewes the best and greatest things,
They do not hurt, but rather cleare her eye.
Besides as Homers Gods gainst Armies stand,
Her subtle forme can through all dangers slide;
Bodies are captiue, minds endure no band,
"And will is free, and can no force abide.
But lastly, Ti [...] perhaps at last hath power
To spend her liuely powers, and quench her light;
Time cānot destroy her.
But old God Saturne which doth all deuour,
Doth cherish her, and still augment her might.
Heauen waxeth old, and all the Spheares aboue
Shall one day faint, and their swift motion stay;
And Time it selfe in Time shall cease to moue;
Onely the Soule suruiues, and liues for aye.
" Our bodies euery footstep that they make,
" March towards death, vntill at last they dye;
" Whether we worke, or play, or sleep, or wake,
" Our life doth passe, and with times wings doth flie.
But to the Soule Time doth perfection giue,
And ads fresh lustre to her beautie still;
And makes her in eternall youth to liue,
Like her which Nectar to the Gods doth fill.
The more she liues, the more she feeds on truth,
The more she feeds, her strēgth doth more increase;
And what is strength, but an effect of youth?
Which if time nurse, how can it euer cease?
Obiections against the Immortalitie of the Soule.
But now these Epicures begin to smile,And say, my doctrine is more safe then true,
And that I fondly do my selfe beguile,
While these receiu'd opinions I ensue.
Obiectiō.
For what, say they, doth not the Soule wax old?How comes it then, that aged men do doate?
And that their braines grow sottish, dull, and cold,
Which were in youth the onely spirits of noate?
What? are not Soules within themselues corrupted?
How can there Idiots then by Nature bee?
How is it that some wits are interrupted,
That now they dazled are, now clearely see?
These Questions make a subtle Argument,
Aunswer.
To such as thinke both Sense and reason one;
To whom nor agent, from the Instrument,
Nor power of working, from the worke is knowne.
But they that know that wit can show no skill,
But when she things in Senses glasse doth view,
Do know, if accident this glasse do spill,
It nothing sees, or sees the false for true.
For if that region of the tender braine,
Wherein th'inward sense of phantasie should sit,
And th'outward senses gatherings should retaine,
By nature, or by chance, become vnfit.
Either at first vncapable it is,
And so few things or none at all receiues,
Or mard by accident, which haps amisse,
And so amisse it euery thing perceiues;
Then as a cunning Prince that vseth Spies,
If they returne no newes, doth nothing know;
But if they make aduertizement of Lyes;
The Princes Counsell all awrie do go;
Euen so the Soule to such a body knit,
Whose inward senses vndisposed bee,
And to receiue the formes of things vnfit,
Where nothing is brought in, can nothing see.
This makes the Idiot, which hath yet a mind,
Able to know the truth, and chuse the good,
If she such figures in the braine did find,
As might be found, if it in temper stood.
But if a Phrensie do possesse the braine,
It so disturbes and blots the formes of things,
As phantasie proues altogether vaine,
And to the wit no true relation brings.
Then doth the wit admitting all for true,
Build fond conclusions on those idle grounds;
Then doth it flie the good, and ill pursue,
Beleeuing all that this false Spie propounds.
But purge the humors, and the rage appease,
Which this distemper in the fancie wrought,
Then will the wit, which neuer had disease,
Discourse, and Iudge discreetly as it ought.
So though the clouds eclips the Suns faire light,
Yet from his face they do not take one beame;
So haue our eyes their perfect power of sight,
Euen when they looke into a troubled streame.
Then these defects in Senses organes bee,
Not in the Soule, or in her working might;
She cannot loose her perfect power to see,
Though mists, & clouds, do choke her window light.
These Imperfections then we must impute,
Not to the Agent, but the Instrument;
We must not blame Apollo, but his lute,
If false accords from her false strings be sent.
The Soule in all hath one Intelligence;
Though too much moisture in an Infants braine,
And too much drinesse in an old mans sense,
Cannot the prints of outward things retaine;
Then doth the Soule want worke, and idle sit,
And this we childishnesse, and dotage call;
Yet hath she then a quicke and actiue wit,
If she had stuffe and tooles to worke withall.
For, giue her organes fit, and obiects faire;
Giue but the aged man the yong mans sense;
Let but Medea AEsons youth repaire,
And straight she shewes her wonted excellence.
As a good harper stricken farre in yeares,
Into whose cunning hands the gowte is fall;
All his old Crochets in his braine he beares,
But on his harpe playes ill, or not at all;
But if Apollo take his gowte away,
That he his nimble fingers may applie,
Apolloes selfe will enuie at his play,
And all the world applaud his minstralsie.
Then dotage is no weaknesse of the mind,
But of the Sense: for if the mind did wast,
In all old men we should this wasting find,
When they some certaine terme of yeares had past.
But most of them euen to their dying howre,
Retaine a mind more liuely, quick, and strong,
And better vse their vnderstanding power,
Thē when their braines were warme, & limmes were yong.
For though the body wasted be and weake,
And though the leaden forme of earth it beares,
Yet when we heare that halfe-dead body speake,
We oft are rauisht to the heauenly Spheares.
Yet say these men, if all her organes dye,
Obiection.
Then hath the Soule no power her powers to vse;
So in a sort her powers extinct do lye,
When vnto act she cannot them reduce.
And if her powers be dead, then what is she?
For since from euery thing some powers do spring,
And from those powers some acts proceeding bee,
Then kill both power, and act, and kill the thing.
Doubtlesse the bodies death, when once it dies,
The instruments of sense and life doth kill;
So that she cannot vse those faculties,
Although their roote rest in her substance still.
But (as the bodie liuing,) wit and will
Can iudge and chuse, without the bodies ayde;
Though on such obiects they are working still,
As through the bodies organs are conuayde.
So when the bodie serues her turne no more,
And all her Senses are extinct and gone,
She can discourse of what she learn'd before,
In heauenly contemplations all alone.
So if one man well on a Lute doth play,
And haue good horsemanship, and learnings skill,
Though both his Lute and horse we take away,
Doth he not keepe his former learning still?
He keepes it doubtlesse, and can vse it to;
And doth both th'other skils in power retaine,
And can of both the proper actions do,
If with his Lute or Horse he meete againe.
So (though the instruments by which we liue,
And view the world, the bodies death do kill;)
Yet with the body they shall all reuiue,
And all their wonted offices fulfill.
Obiection.
But how till then shall she her selfe imploy?Her spies are dead, which brought home newes before,
What she hath got and keepes, she may enioy,
But she hath meanes to vnderstand no more.
Then what do those poore Soules which nothing get?
Or what do those which get and cannot keepe?
Like Buckets bottomlesse, which all out let;
Those Soules for want of exercise must sleepe.
Aunswer.
See how mans Soule against it selfe doth striue;Why should we not haue other meanes to know?
As children while within the wombe they liue
Feede by the nauill; here they feede not so.
These children, if they had some vse of sense,
And should by chance their mothers talking heare,
That in short time they shal come forth from thēce,
Would feare their birth, more then our death we feare.
They would cry out, if we this place shall leaue,
Then shall we breake our tender nauill strings;
How shall we then our nourishment receaue,
Since our sweet food no other conduit brings?
And if a man should to these babes reply,
That into this faire world they shalbe brought,
Where they shall see the earth, the Sea, the sky;
The glorious Sun, and all that God hath wrought;
That there ten thousand dainties they shall meete,
Which by their mouths they shal with pleasure take,
Which shalbe cordiall too, aswell as sweete,
And of their litle lymbes tall bodies make,
This would they thinke a fable, euen as we
Do thinke the Storie of the golden age;
Or as some sensuall spirits amongst vs be,
Which hold the world to come, a faigned stage.
Yet shall these infants after find all true,
Though then thereof they nothing could conceiue;
Assoone as they are borne, the world they view,
And with their mouthes the nurses milke receiue.
So when the Soule is borne (for death is nought,
But the Soules birth, and so we should it call)
Ten thousand things she sees beyond her thought,
And in an vnknowne maner knowes them all.
Then doth she see by Spectacles no more,
She heares not by report of double spies;
Her selfe in instants doth all things explore,
For each thing present, and before her lyes.
But still this crew with questions me pursues:
Obiection.
If Soules deceasd (say they) still liuing bee,
Why do they not returne, to bring vs newes
Of that strange world, where they such wonders see?
Answer.
Fondmen if we beleeue, that men do liueVnder the Zenith of both frozen Poles,
Though none come thence aduertizement to giue,
Why beare we not the like faith of our Soules?
The Soule hath here on earth no more to do,
Then we haue businesse in our mothers wombe:
What child doth couet to returne thereto?
Although all children first from thence do come?
But as Noahs pigeon which returnd no more,
Did shew shee footing found for all the flood;
So when good Soules departed through deaths dore
Come not againe, it shewes their dwelling good.
And doubtlesse such a Soule as vp doth mount,
And doth appeare before her Makers face,
Holds this vile world in such a base account,
As she lookes downe, & scornes this wretched place.
But such as are detruded downe to hell,
Either for shame they still themselues retire;
Or tyed in chaines, they in close prison dwell,
And cannot come, although they much desire.
Obiection
VVell well say these vaine spirits, though vaine it isTo thinke our Soules to heauen or hell do go,
Politique men haue thought it not amisse,
To spread this lye, to make men vertuous so.
Do you then thinke this morall vertue good?
Answer.
I thinke you do; euen for your priuate gaine;
For common wealths by vertue euer stood,
And common good the priuate doth containe.
If then this vertue you do loue so well,
Haue you no meanes her practize to maintaine,
But you this lye must to the people tell,
That good Soules liue in ioy, and ill in paine?
Must vertue be preserued by a lye?
Vertue and Truth do euer best agree;
By this it seemes to be a veritie,
Since the effects so good and vertuous bee.
For as the Diuell father is of lyes,
So vice and mischiefe do his lyes ensue;
Then this good doctrine did not he deuise,
But made this lye, which saith it is not true.
For how can that be false, which euery tong
Of euery mortall man, affirmes for true?
The generall consent of [...]l.
Which truth hath in all ages bene so strong,
As lodestone-like all harts it euer drew.
For not the Christian, or the Iew alone,
The Persian, or the Turke, acknowledge this,
This mysterie to the wild Indian knowne,
And to the Canniball and Tartar is.
This rich Assirian drugge growes euerywhere,
As common in the North, as in the East;
This doctrine doth not enter by the eare,
But of it selfe is natiue in the breast.
None that acknowledge God, or prouidence,
Their Soules eternitie did euer doubt,
For all religion takes her roote from hence,
Which no poore naked nation liues without.
For since the world for man created was,
(For onely man the vse thereof doth know)
If man do perish like a withered grasse,
How doth Gods wisdome order things below?
And if that wisdome still wise ends propound,
Why made he man of other creatures king?
When (if he perish here) there is not found,
In all the world so poore and vile a thing?
If death do quench vs quite, we haue great wrong,
Since for our seruice all things else were wrought,
That Dawes, and Trees, and Rocks, should last so long,
When we must in an instant passe to nought.
But blest be that great power, that hath vs blest,
With longer life then heauen or earth can haue;
Which hath enfusd into one mortall brest
Immortall powers, not subiect to the graue.
For though the Soule do seeme her graue to beare,
And in this world is almost buried quick,
We haue no cause the bodies death to feare,
"For when the shell is broke, out comes a chick.
For as the Soules Essentiall powers are three,
Three kinds of life aunswerable to the three powers of the soule.
The quickning power, the power of Sense, and Reason,
Three kinds of life to her designed bee,
Which perfect these three powers in their due seasō.
The first life in the mothers wombe is spent,
Where she her nursing power doth onely vse;
Where when she finds defect of nourishment,
Sh'expels her body, and this world she viewes.
This we call Birth, but if the child could speake,
He death would call it, and of nature plaine,
That she would thrust him out naked, and weake,
And in his passage pinch him with such paine.
Yet out he comes, and in this world is plac't,
Where all his Senses in perfection bee,
Where he finds flowers to smell, and fruits to tast,
And sounds to heare, and sundry formes to see.
When he hath past some time vpon this Stage,
His reason then a litle seemes to wake;
Which though she spring whē sense doth faile with
Yet can she here, no perfect practise make.
Then doth th'aspiring Soule the bodie leaue,
Which we call death; but were it knowne to all,
What life our Soules do by this death receaue,
Men would it birth, or Gaole deliuery call.
In this third life Reason will be so bright,
As that her sparke will like the Sun-beames shine,
And shall of God enioy the reall sight,
Being still increast by influence diuine.
O ignorant poore man,
An acclamation.
what doost thou beare,Lock't vp within the Casket of thy breast?
What Iewels, and what riches hast thou there?
What heauenly treasure in so weake a cheast?
Looke in thy Soule, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drownd Narcissus in the floud,
Honor, and Pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted good.
Thinke of her worth, and thinke that God did meane,
This worthie mind should worthy things embrace;
Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts vncleane,
Nor her dishonor with thy passions base;
Kill not her quickning power with surfettings,
Marre not her sense with Sensualities,
Cast not her serious wit on idle things,
Make not her free will slaue to vanities.
And when thou thinkst of her eternitie,
Thinke[?] not that death against her nature is;
Thinke it a birth: and when thou goest to die,
Sing like a Swan, as if thou wentst to blisse.
And if thou like a Child didst feare before,
Being in the darke, where thou didst nothing see;
Now I haue brought thee torch-light, Feare no more;
Now when thou Diest, thou canst not hudwinkt bee.
And thou my Soule, which turnst thy Curious eye,
To view the beames of thine owne forme diuine,
Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly,
While thou art Clouded with this flesh of mine.
Take heed of ouer-weening, and compare
Thy Peacocks feet with thy gay Peacocks traine:
Studie the best, and highest things that are,
But of thy selfe an humble thought retaine;
Cast downe thy selfe, and onely striue to raise
The glorie of thy Makers sacred name;
Vse all thy powers, that blessed power to praise,
Which giues thee power to be, and vse the same.
FINIS.