IF great & excellent spirits, tooke delight to know and vnder­stand the nature of all kindes of Beastes, trees, hearbes, dogges, & other things, vvhich God by his power crea­ted, by his wisedom go­uernes & maintaineth, and in his liberal boun­ty hath ordained to our vse: surely, vvith farre greater reason, vvee ought to take some [Page 2] paines to haue knovv­ledge of our own selues.

The knovvledge of a mans owne selfe, The bene­fit of the knowledge of a mans owne selfe. auai­leth, not onely for pre­seruation of the bodies health, but likewise to moderate the vehemē ­cie of inordinate affec­tions, which hinder and impeach the health of iudgement. And, al­though it bee a matter indeed very hard to ex­presse, in regard of the excellencie & inexpli­cable maiestie therein consisting, agreeing with him that said, Ex­cellent actions are of great difficultie: Yet, for the profit and pleasure [Page 3] which may be gathered thereby, my good will shall stretch foorth her vttermost abilitie. Our neerest way then to at­taine this intelligence, is in speaking first of our chiefe & principall part, namely the soule.

The soule is a sub­stance simple, What the Soule is. hauing continuall agitation in the naturall bodie, pos­sessed of parts capable to the actions thereof, and albeit (of herselfe) shee haue powers and perfections: yet it is so, that while shee abideth within the bodie, shee hath no vse vvithout her organes, and those [Page 4] parts of the bodie that doe agree with her acti­ons.

The vertues of the soule.It remayneth there­fore to know what ver­tues are in the Soule; in what parts of the body she performes her acti­ons; by vvhat meanes; & how her vertues are extended; with the full effects of her strength.

The Phylosopher numbers fiue seuerall powers in the soule, The powers in the soule. which are discerned by offices, organs and ob­iects, that is to say, those thinges whereon shee grounds her action.

The first of these po­wers or perfections, is [Page 5] called vegetatiue, which by the meanes of such thinges as doe preserue her, (namely, ayre, ea­ting and drinking, slee­ping and watching, rest and motion, euacuati­on of superfluities, and the affections of the hart nourishing the bo­die,) doe giue increase, and power to beget.

Nourishment is made by the vertue of natu­rall heate, Of nourish­ment. which con­uerts the meat & drink into the substaunce of him that takes it. The organes & instruments which haue vse of this power in operation, are those parts of the body [Page 6] appointed to receiue, change, and transport our foode: as are the mouth, the pipe or pas­sage of the throate, the ventricle, the liuer, and the veines, which doe conuey the blood.

Howbeit, all the bo­dies parts doe serue to make nourishment, & conuert the seuerall ali­ments or sustenaunce into their substaunce: whereupon one vvell saith, that each part hath his peculiar pow­er, to receiue, retaine, alter, and expell.

The man­ner of the bodies nou­rishment.The maner how the body is nourished, is necessary to be known▪ [Page 7] as well in regarde of health, as also behaui­our, which makes mee the more willing to de­scribe it, for all mens ea­sier apprehension.

When the stomacke or ventricle hath recei­ued the foode, it locks it vp afterward to heate & conuert it into a kind of white matter, which beeing so changed (ac­cording to his qualities) discends by degrees in­to the guts and bowels, certaine veines wherof doe sucke and draw the very purest & best sub­staunce, and so do cary it to the Liuer.

When it is grosse & [Page 8] superfluous, it discends into the nether guttes, but when it is elaborate and refined by the Li­uer, then doth it make some ample distributi­on.

Choller.For, the chollerick hu­mour, in the greatest part is with-drawne, & receiued into a little pursse, cōmonly called the purse of the gaule.

Melancholie Mellancholie, which is the very grossest and most earthy bloode, is sent into the Spleene.

The part cold & dry, cōmonly called fleame, Phlegme. is dispersed by diuers proportions into the veines, according to the [Page 9] oppinion of many, the very best whereof the kidneies doe drawe to them for theyr nourish­ment, and the rest is ca­ried by vessels atten­ding on the bladder, whereof vrine is made in that part.

What else remaineth of this masse or sub­stance, is transported to the hart, where the right ventricle thereof receiues and purifies it, to the ende it may bee conuenable and fit for nourishment.

Moreouer, Of the blood. one part of the bloode so recei­ued into the right ven­tricle of the hart, is deri­ued [Page 10] vnto the left ven­tricle, & conuerted in­to the spirits vitall: So called, because by them the life & natural heate of the bodie is preser­ued, and so are the ani­mall spirits of the braine made, which are the in­struments of moouing and vnderstanding, and of those noble actions that conduct our life.

Againe, from thys right ventricle of the hart, is the blood distil­led into the veines, and from them an appositi­on & commutation of them, is conuayed into our substance.

There are three seue­rall [Page 11] digestions made, Three kinds of digestion to perfect nourishmēt, onely to perfect thys nourishment: the first is in the ventricle, which vulgarly is called the stomack, whē the food is conuerted into mat­ter dry and white: the second is in the Liuer, where the said matter is altered, & takes a kind of red colour: the third is in the veines, where this matter (already cō ­uerted red, and made blood) is purified, thin­ned, and heated, by the vertue and warmth of those spirits which are in the arteries, & (as the nature of sweat) doe passe ouer the heads of [Page 12] those arteries, and sub­tilly is mingled with the blood of the veines.

Heerein truly nature gaue vs the lawe & ex­ample of communica­ting our graces, Natures in­struction concerning our gifts & graces. gyfts, and perfections, from one to another, for the arteries, which are the pypes appoynted for carriage of the spirits, where the finest & per­fectest blood (regular­lie placed vnder the veines, by poares & lit­tle holes almost imper­ceptible) doe make cō ­munitie of their spirits with the veines, to the end that the bloode of those veines most cor­siue [Page 13] and cold, might be heated, altered, & sub­tiled by the meanes of those spirits: in recom­pence of which bene­fit, the veines doe im­part theyr blood to the arteries, to moisten and temper theyr spyrites, which (without thys helpe) would be verie dry, burning, and too hote.

The like argument deriued from nature, v­seth S. Paule, 1, Cor. 12. 1. Cor, 12. cōferring the offices of the bodies members, the vtilitie, dignitie and cōmunication of them, with the spirituall gra­ces, which god hath di­stributed [Page 14] to euerie one perticulerly, to make a cōplete body, & an in­tire church (as it were,) the place is well worth the noting.

The incon­uenience of the first di­gestion, not holpen by the other.Wee commonly say, that the hurte or defect of the first digestion, cannot be corrected & repaired by the other: euen so, when the ven­tricle dooth not iustlie performe his dutie, the matter which remay­neth ouer-rawe or cru­ded, can neuer ingen­der good blood.

Therefore, such as giue not due leysure to theyr stomack to make digestion, doe fill their [Page 15] bodies with hurtful hu­mours, abating and weakening the vertue of theyr stomacke, and likewise of theyr liuer: whence groweth Pal­sies, trembling or sha­king of the members, age hastened sooner thē should be, with blisters and bleanes, which de­forme and much mis­shape the bodie.

Yet is not this all the inconuenience & hurt that ensues heereby, for if the blood be impure, the spirits made therof, cannot be cleere or no­ble, of which spirits, are vapours & fumes sub­tilly extracted & drawn [Page 16] frō the blood, of which spirits are begotten and heated the left ventri­cle of the hart, & made like industrious & liue­lie sparkles, to giue heat and vertue to the parts of nature, as both prof­fer and produce theyr actions.

These sparkles haue been (by reason of their dignitie & excellence) in so great admiration, The oppi­nion of som concerning the soule. that diuers entred rash­ly into this errour, that those spirits were the substance of the soule: then the impure blood, badly digested, grosse and disorderly concoc­ted can neuer be made [Page 17] spirites, nor by ouer­grosse and impure spi­rits, can be doone anie noble actions, neyther can the soule be freelie exercised in her offices, onely through theyr most harmefull hinde­rances.

For we see those men that are giuen to intem­perancie, The hurt of intempe­rancie. be common­lie sleepie, dull, of slen­der capacitie, not able any long while to con­template, retaine, well conferre, or vnderstand the order, discourse, causes and effects of thinges, neyther what conuenaunce or diffe­rence is among them: [Page 18] nor can they promptly or expeditiously appre­hend and iudge the be­nefite or harme, which ensueth on any thing taken in hand, so great is the intemperance of the mouth.

Herac. Ephe. Heraclitus the Ephesi­an, by impuritie of his feeding, became full of the Dropsie. Salomon. Salomon saith, that more perish by the intemperance of the mouth, then by the sword.

Hipocrates numbers sixe things, Sixe things not natural­lie in vs. which hee calls not naturall in vs, because they are no parts at all or members of the body, yet neces­sarie notwithstanding [Page 19] to maintain life: which are ayre, eating & drin­king, sleep and watch­fulnes, motion & rest, euacuation of super­fluities, and the affecti­ons of the hart. Hee giues a rule whereby to know those things pro­fitable for the bodie, as also the manner & or­der howe to vse them. First (saith hee) labour and moderate exercise of the body, meat, drink & sleep, all these things are to bee vsed in a meane.

The benefite of the first, is, The benefit of labour. that by mode­rate labor, naturall heat is excited and mooued, [Page 20] superfluities are consu­med & expelled, which is a profitable thing be­fore new viands be re­ceiued. For euen as hot water by the fires side becomes coole, when cold water is mingled therewith: so is digesti­on hindered, when the stomacke is charged vvith fresh receite of foode, not staying till the former haue taken his due course. Thys ought wee especially to auoyde, according to the rule which sayth: that the more vve nou­rish an impure bodie, the more we do offend & dangerously hurt it.

[Page 21]Those labours & ex­ercises, which do cause great agitation of the armes & stomacke, are most agreeable for health: but care must bee had of ouer great stirring, as well of the bodie as of the minde, immediatly after refec­tion is receiued, for then we should rest, or keep ourselues from immo­derate moouing, The hurt of immoderate exercise. be­cause (in that case) the stomacke beeing too much stirred, it cannot intirely and fully make his digestion: For the little doore beneath in the stomacke, by thys ouer-hastie stirring, is [Page 22] opened, & therethrogh escapeth some matter vndigested, which fault (as already vvee haue said) cannot afterwarde againe repaire it selfe.

The qualities, mea­sure or quantities, the kindes or sorts of food, the time, and the place for taking them, the cō ­plexions both of them, and those that receiue them: ought also to be diligently cōsidered & weighed, but them we doe referre to the Phi­sitions, who haue ther­in prescribed very lear­ned rules.

The benefit of sleepe.Sleepe is necessarie for the preseruation of [Page 23] health, and then it best agreeth with the bodie, when the vapours and fumes (both sweet and profitable) of nourish­ment, beeing in the sto­mack, doe raise vp thē ­selues to the braine, sly­ding sweetly thorowe the ventricles of the braine, thickning and mingling them-selues vvith the braines natu­rall coldnes: for, in dis­cending, they woulde hinder the course of the motiue and sensitiue spi­rits, and stop the con­duits of vnderstanding, and those nerues vsual­lie seruing for motion. Nor doe I without iust [Page 24] cause terme these va­pours to be sweet: for if they bee at any time too clammie, sharp, dul, or slow, they doe then wounde the braine, and engender Apoplexies.

How sleepe profits the powers of the Soule.This rest serues to re­create the powers of the soule, it moystens the braine to beget new spirits, and labours for perfecting the offices of the ventricle & liuer: all which thinges at full it performeth, because the hart (therby) reuo­cates & drawes his heat to him. For those mē ­bers which are farre off from the hart, do wexe cold by sleeping, as we [Page 25] may note in the hands, head and feete: where­fore it behoueth to co­uer those parts better in the time of rest & slee­ping, then whē we are awake, busied, and la­bouring.

This reuocation of heate and blood for the hart, works it selfe thus, How heate and blood worke for the hart. the vapors being made cold by the braine, in discending, doe meete warme fumes cōming from the hart, where­vpon those vapours are chased to the exteriour parts, and so the heate of the hart more amply is augmented: wherof, the hart, by the arteries, [Page 26] like to a King, (willing to assist & furnish tho­rowly the indigences & wants of the liuer, and the stomack) makes his prouision and store of blood & heate, to help thē with supply in per­fecting their concocti­ons, and offices of na­ture. And assuredlie, heerein we haue a liue­lie example, of the well guiding, gouerning, & managing of a cōmon­wealth: An excellent comparison. for the hart (as Prince and King) enri­cheth & furnisheth him self in the time of peace and rest, (commonlie called sleep) to the end he may in needful time [Page 27] likewise, distribute to the liuer and stomacke, such spirits as are suffi­cient for their working, which spirits do helpe, further and fortefie the naturall heate.

Truely, Three du­ties needfull in a Prince or Ruler. the first and chiefest office of a Prince or Gouernour of any Country, is, or ought to bee, that his Subiects may liue in quiet, without vexation or trouble of incursi­ons, and thefts of ene­mies.

The second office, is, that he take order they haue victuals and pro­uision, for their nou­rishment and mainte­naunce. [Page 28] And the third, is, that they should bee instructed in Religion, honest actions, & other necessary Artes, for maintenaunce of hu­maine societie.

Conclusion concerning sleepe.Sleepe then is most necessarie, and serueth for euery one of these vertues in the soul, as in the office vegetatiue or nourishing, because it perfects digestion: and there is nothing more certaine, then that vn­curable crudities doe come thorow lacke of rest & sleepe. For not onely by ouer-long watching, the food re­ceiued cannot perfectly [Page 29] concoct it self, but like­wise the vertue of the ventricle is feebled and vtterly ouer-throwne: as well through the charge & weight of the foode, as also that the nerues are made weake by the feeblenes of the braine, whence they proceede, and this de­bilitie is only caused by want of rest. It serues also in the power ap­petente: The power appetente. for the hart at­tracts his heate, and en­genders great aboun­dance of spirits, which are alwaies the cleerer, the more the bloode is neate and purified.

It profits likewise the [Page 30] power principal, which is the vertue Intellectiue, The power Intellectiue. for hee orders his acti­ons by meanes of the spirits in the braine, which touch & mooue the nerues, as well sen­sitiue as motiue.

Adde wee heereto, that in sleepe, the sub­stance of the braine is refreshed and moiste­ned, which braine, (by too great drynes,) loo­seth his complexion, & the substaunce of the nerues cannot then wel performe their offices: iustly agreeing with the strings of a musicall in­strument, An apt com­parison. which if they be too dry, or too moist, [Page 31] too slack, or too much extēded, they can yield no sounde of good ac­cordance.

This place admoni­sheth vs to speake of dreames and fantasies, Concerning dreames in sleepe. which happen in the time of sleepe, and are nothing else but meere imaginations, that pre­sent themselues, vvhen the spirits (which are the instruments of our cogitations) leaue their orderly course, & con­fusedly and irregulerly moue themselues in the braine.

There are diuers sorts of dreames, Diuers kinds of dreames. some being called common & vul­gare, [Page 32] because that the causes are euident: as when in our sleepe, the images and shapes of things, which the day before haue exercised and frequented our co­gitations, doe make a tender and offer of thē ­selues: Example of dreames, the causes being euident. as Iudges do of­ten reuolue on theyr law-cases: Scholastical Diuines, on theyr rela­tions & vrgent exami­nations: Carters cal on theyr horses: Sheep­heards on their sheepe, and so of others.

When the cause of dreames is in vs.Sometimes the cause of dreames is within vs, as those dreames which agree with the humors [Page 33] abounding & working in vs, and these humors doe induce imaginati­ons: as sometimes, by the great aboundance of phlegme beeing in the stomacke, a man dreams that he is swim­ming in a water: or by the weight & thicknes of humour in the sto­macke or braine, a man thinkes he is crowded, or down-pressed in his sleepe.

There be other sorts of dreames, Dreames fore-telling things to ensue. which are many times predictions or fore-runners, of such things as are to ensue: but these dreames are not alwaies certaine, & [Page 34] they happē to persons, by reason of some spe­ciall cōplexion or tem­prature remaining in them, or else by gyft of diuine perfection: as naturally some one is more enclined to poe­sie or musique, then an­other.

Examples concerning dreames.Many especiall ex­amples haue beene no­ted, as namely the Phi­sition of Augustus, who dreamed that the Tent belonging to the sayde Prince, should be spoy­led: whereof he aduer­tised the Emperor, who immediatly did with­draw from thence, and soone after it hapned, [Page 35] that the enemy came & set vpon it, spoyling & destroying all that was in it.

And Cicero, who dreamed of Octauius before hee knewe him, that hee should be the Prince of that cōmon­wealth. And a souldier at Genues, who drea­med that hee should be deuoured by a Serpent, and therefore, on the day he should haue bin shipt away thence a­mongst others, he hid himselfe in his house: where, by the inconue­nience of a tumult, vvhich happened that day in the Citty, he was [Page 36] slaine by a bullet, which came from a peece na­med a Serpentine.

Diuine dreames or inspirations.There are other man­ner of dreames, which diuinely are sent to mē by inspirations, or an­nounciations of An­gels: such as were the dreames of Iacob, Io­seph, Daniell, and such like. Such doe neuer happen vpon light af­faires or occasions, but in cases of importance: as for the gouernment of GODS church in Kingdoms and com­mon-weales, for order and obseruation there­in to be kept: Which kinde of dreames are [Page 37] alwaies certaine. There be others deuilish, Deuillish dreames. as the dream of Cassius, wher­of Ʋalerius writeth.

Wee haue then spo­ken sufficiently (for this time) of the manner how we are nourished, which behooueth the more to be vnderstood, The hurt of intempe­rance. for our better preserua­tion frō intemperance: for when wee giue no leysure to Nature, to make her concoctions and transmutations, the receptacles of the bodie doe fil themselues with hurtfull humors, which rotting within vs, doe engender very dange­rous diseases: conside­ring [Page 38] that the free and li­berall course of the ani­mall spirits, which are the chiefest and verie neerest instruments, or organes of our vnder­standing, are hindered by the colde fumes of the stomack, which thē doe mount vp into the braine.

Encrease of nourish­ment.The augmentation of nourishmēt differs on­lie, according to the time & quantitie of the creature, for there is a power, which in a cer­tain time causeth in the creature a iust quanti­tie, according to his kinde: to wit, when it increaseth through all [Page 39] his dimēsions, as length, largenes, and thicknes in al parts, which works it selfe about fiue and twenty or thirty yeeres. When Na­ture recea­ueth most substance to her selfe. In this time nature re­ceiueth most substance by what shee takes, which shee looseth not by emptying her fumes & excrements, for then is the heate naturall in greatest force.

Galen saith, that after this iust quantity is con­firmed in the creature, the action of nature growes to weaken, be­cause the pipes & ves­sels of the body, wexe to bee more dry then before: but we say that [Page 40] it is the ordenaunce of God, who hath consti­tuted and limitted to e­uery creature a tearme and date, vntill vvhich time hee should in­crease.

Euen as wee behold the flame of a lampe, Example how the bo­dy is increa­sed. to be nourished & main­tained by som clammie drines which is in it: in like manner the bodie of any creature, hauing life and vnderstanding, hath som especial good humiditie, fat and ayrie, which commeth of the seede and essentiall be­ginning of the body, & disperseth it self throgh all the parts, wherein is [Page 41] carried this viuifying & celestiall heate, holding together, & still nouri­shing this heate, which humiditie once consu­med, immediatly that heate is quenched.

This humidity is (by little and little) vsed & perfected by this heate, When na­turall heate decayeth in vs. and as the measure and proportion of this hu­miditie is diminished in vs, the naturall heate groweth to be the more weakened.

And albeit that thys best and primitiue hu­miditie, be so maintay­ned and nourished, by that which wee take in eating & drinking day [Page 42] by day, yet whatsoeuer exceedeth, or goes be­yond that iust sub­staunce, is held to bee most impure. Like vn­to wine, which while his first force & nature is intire, he wil very wel beare some small quan­titie of water: but if of­ten, & houre by houre it shal be so commixed, he will in the end loose all his strength.

Example conceruing our life.Vpon the like termes standeth our life, for that which we take and receiue daily in sub­stance, doth not so na­turally nourish this vi­uifying heat, as the first and originall humidity. [Page 43] For note heereby how naturall death cōmeth, Death natu­rall accor­ding to Ari­stotle. which Aristotle sayth to be, when the heat na­turall is extinct: that is to say, when the primi­tiue & originall humi­ditie (pure and intire) is consumed.

Death not naturall, Death vnna­turall, occa­sioned by many causes in our selues. hath many other cau­ses, to weaken and im­pouerish this primitiue humiditie, vvhich is sweet, pure and tempe­rate of it selfe: As by drunkennes, gourman­dizing, immoderate lu­bricities, and other ex­cesses of all sorts.

Great pitty then is it, that in respect our life is [Page 44] but short, and that day by day it attracts & ga­thers som diminishing; that yet through our own barbarousnesse & inhumanities, (worthily termed worse thē those of the Cyclops) we shold accellerate and hasten our end, onely by in­temperance, and diuers extraordinary kinds of excesses. The augmen­tation is then made by the same organes, & by the same naturall heate that our nourishment is.

Concerning generation.Generation hath his parts properly orday­ned by nature, & may be thus defined. The [Page 45] power of engendering, is that wherby the crea­ture is (as it were) re­molded, and renewed for preseruation of his kinde: that is to say, of the common essentiall forme, beeing in manie distinct and singuler parts.

The manner how the fruite is formed in the matrixe of a woman, Howe the fruite is for­med at the first. is thus. When the matrix hath receiued the seede of man and woman to­gether, first of all the matrix, like to a little Ouen, (moderatelie made warme) doth dry & sweetly harden out­wardly the two seedes [Page 46] together: and makes a thin skin about it, such as wee see about the hard shell of an Egge, which skinne or mem­brane, is made to keep and continue the sayde seede, softly and sweet­ly boyling within it, on­ly by aboundance of fine and subtile spirits, which naturally are in the same seede.

This mēbrane, wher­in the seede is kept and enclosed, The offices of the mem­brane. is principally made of the Womans seede, which is more soft, and lesse thicke or massie, because it is ex­tended with more faci­litie then the other.

[Page 47]And not onely is thys membrane made to cō ­taine the seede, but it is also for other vses be­side: Of y ^e veines and arteries of the mem­brane. for thereon are placed and imposed in­finite veines & arteries, to the end that by them the menstruall bloode might be caried, for the nouriture and encrea­sing of the fruite, which veines & arteries haue their originall, not only of the spermaticke ves­sels, that is to say, those which draw, prepare & carie this seed, but like­wise of a great truncke or veine, planted and rooted on the liuer.

This skinne is (as it [Page 48] were) folded and wrapt about the matrix, to the end the sayde matrixe might giue warmth to the fruite round about.

There is in this wrap­per or membrane, ma­ny small threds of veins or arteries, which sprea­ding and extending themselues one among another, doe constitute and make two veines and two arteries, and in the midst of them a conduit. These veines and arteries, like rootes of fruite, Howe the nauill is made, & in what time. beeing plan­ted in the seede, doe make the nauil: where, by the first sixe dayes, nature cloatheth these [Page 49] stringes and threds of veines and arteries, and the seede softly boyleth in his folder. Then a­bout the seauenth day, when the nauill is for­med, and these veines and arteries ioyned, through them is drawn the blood and spirits, & caried & mingled with the saide seede, for for­ming of the principall members. For in thys enuellopper there are diuers entries, like the entring into some little vault or seller, in which entries or concauities, they are conioyned to­gether, & (thorow those vaultes) the little rootes [Page 50] doe attract blood and spirit. And while the seede thus heats & boi­leth, The places for the liuer, hart, and braine. it is made like three litle bladders or purses, which are the places for the liuer, the hart, and braine.

There is then drawn along by a veine pro­ceeding from the nauil, some thicke bloode, as nourishment, vvhich thickens & shuts it selfe into the seede.

The fore-said veine is forked, and alongst one of those braunches pas­seth this blood, How the li­uer is for­med, and what it is. and set­tles it selfe to a thicke substance: behold then how the liuer is formed.

[Page 51]Wee see by experi­ence, that the Liuer is nothing else but thick­ned blood, grown hard together, and this liuer hath many smal threds, which serue to attract, retaine, change and ex­pell, according as vve haue before declared.

Alongst the other branch of this veine, is formed a gutte or pas­sage, which soone after, How the bowels are fastned to the backe. carieth, contriueth and fasteneth the bowels or inwards, to the backe of the creature, and it is a vessell where-with to sustaine the veines, wherin prospereth the verie purest part of [Page 52] blood, in the smallest in­testines or inwards, and so conueies it to the li­uer. In like manner, a­longst the same brāch, the stomack, the spleen, and the bowels are for­med. So whē the liuer is perfected, he makes an assembly of the smal­lest veines, as of little rootes, and by their as­sembling is made a great veine on the vp­per part of the Liuer, which vaine produceth some high braunching foorth, whereof is for­med Diaphragma: How Dia­phragma is formed. to wit, a strange rounde muscle, lying ouer­thwart the lower part [Page 53] of the breast, seperating the hart and lites from the stomacke, with the Liuer and the Spleene. And so is made a part of the bones belong­ing to the backe, Of the back bones. and there be brāches which shoote out some-what lower, whereof is also formed the rest of the said back bones.

The arteries disper­sed from the nauill a­mongst the seede, doe tende toward the ridge of the back, The for­ming of the hart. & by little and little haue a place designed, for forming and engendring of h [...]e hart. These arteries doe drawe the hotest and [Page 54] most subtile bloode, whereof in the little purse (therfore appoin­ted) is the hart engen­dered and formed: vvhich hart is a solide flesh, hard and thick, as is most conuenable for so very hott a member.

The great plant or veine, extends & goes iust to the right ventri­cle of the hart, onely to carry and administer blood for his nourish­ment: The harts nourishmēt. and beneath this veine, ariseth or springs vp another vein, which carrieth the purified blood to the lites, made subtile and hote, onelie to nourish and keepe it [Page 55] warme.

At the left ventricle of the hart ariseth a great arterie, which carrieth the spirits vitall, formed of blood by the heat of the hart, A compari­son worth the noting. thorow all the body. And euen as by the braunches of thys great trunck of veines, the blood is conueyed thorowe all the bodies parts for nourishment thereof: So by the boughes or armes of this arterie, are the spy­rits likewise caried tho­rowe all the bodie, to furnish it with vitall heate. And doubtlesse, The hart is the begin­ner of heat vitall. the hart is the beginner of vitall heate, without [Page 56] which, the other mem­bers can not produce their actions, neither can theyr nourishment be dulie made.

Vnder this artery of the fore-said left ventri­cle, springs vp another arterie, which serues to carry the sweet ayre frō the lungs & lites to the hart, to refresh it: and likewise to recarry the ayre, beeing first made warme by the hart. So then, whē of these two ventricles of the hart, are those veins brought forth which doe intend to the lites: of the sub­tile bloode (vvhich is transported by this [Page 57] veine of the right ven­tricle of the hart, Howe the lungs and lites are for­med, & cō ­sequently the height of the body.) is the lungs and lites formed and made, and so suc­cessiuely all the height of the body, is made by these arteries & veines, which are conueyers to the spirits and bloode, whereby nature fullie makes vp all her buil­ding.

Soone after, the brain, The for­ming of the braine. which is the place and seate for the very no­blest functions and of­fices of nature, is for­med in this manner. A great part of the seede with-drawes it self, & is receiued into the third little purse before spe­cified, [Page 58] heereof is the braine cōposed, where­to is ioyned a couer­ture, hard and dry by force of naturall heate, like vnto a tile in a for­nace, The skul of the head. & that is the skul of the heade. So the braine is onely made of the seede, to receiue, conserue & change the spirits, which are the instruments and causes of voluntary moouing, and of vnderstanding: it behoueth then that it should not be made of vile or simple matter, but of the aboundance of seed, fullest of spirits.

Novve, euen as the veines are bredde in the [Page 59] liuer, and the arteries in the hart: The nerues are bred in the braine, as the veines in the liuer. So are the nerues in the braine, which are of the nature of the braine, viscuous, clammie and hard. Nor are they holow, like the veines and arteries, but solid & massie: except those two that are cal­led Opticke, which doe cōuey the spirits of the braine into the sight of the eye.

From the braine dis­cends the marrowe in the chine of the backe, and there is great diffe­rence, between the ma­row of the other bones, and this heere spoken of: for the marrowe in [Page 60] the other bones is a su­perfluitie of nourish­ment, engendred of blood, ordained to no­rish and moisten the bones, The mar­row in the chine bone of the back. but the marrow in the chine bone of the back, is engendered and made of the seede, appointed for produ­cing of the nerues sensi­tiue and motiue.

VVee may (by that which hath been saide) in some sort knowe the beginning and fashion of our humaine bodie. VVhile the fruite is in the wombe, Howe the fruit is nou­rished in the wombe. it is nouri­shed by blood, attrac­ted at the nauil, because the fluxes ordinarie to [Page 61] women, do cease when they become great, and the infant drawes aboū ­dance of blood for his nourishment. The su­perfluous blood is de­uided into three parts: of the very best & pu­rest part, The deuisi­on of the blood into three parts, and to what vses. is the infant nourished in his mo­thers bellie: the other part lesse pure, is caried to the breasts, and con­uerted into milke: the third and last part, like slime in the bottome of a marish, is discharged in the birth of the child.

The times of the in­fants beeing in the wombe, are discerned in this sort: and the bo­dies [Page 62] of male chyldren, Male chyl­dren more perfect then female. are euer more perfect then the female, for the seede whereof the male is made, is hotter then the other.

An admira­ble secret, & worthy (w ^t great reue­rence) to be regarded.The first sixe dayes after conception, the seede boileth, resolueth, and becommeth as an egge, making three lit­tle bladders or purses, as before wee haue decla­red.

Nine dayes follow­ing, is the attractions of blood, wherof are made the liuer and the hart: and twelue dayes after the afore-said sixe and nine dayes, is the liuer, the hart, and the braine [Page 63] to bee seene and discer­ned. Then eyghteene dayes after, are the o­ther members formed: these dayes nūbred to­gether, are fortie and fiue, and then when the members are formed & discerned, the fruit be­gins to haue life, for it hath som feeling: wher vpon it is saide, that a­bout the fiue and for­tieth day, the soule is infused into the body.

Hipocrates giues a very good rule, speak­ing in this manner. Hipocrates rule frō the time of cō ­ception, to deliuerance. The daies from the concep­tion, to the perfection & intire forming of the members, beeing dou­bled, [Page 64] doe declare the time of the childs stir­ring: and those dayes trebled, doe shewe the day for his deliuerance.

So then, if the infant haue his members and parts perfect the fiue & fortieth day, he will stir at ninetie dayes, & shal bee borne the ninth month. This rule is or­dinarie in male Chyl­dren, but the female ta­rie longer.

Of the po­wer Vege­tatiue, and how it nou­risheth and increaseth the body, as also main­taineth kindIt is as easie likewise to iudge, howe much the power vegetatiue is necessary, which pre­serues and maintaineth (by his offices) as vvell the whole frame, as the [Page 65] singuler parts there-to belonging: that is to say, by nourishing and augmenting, it main­taines the seueral parts, and by generation pre­serues and supplies the state of kind. Euery one ought to know thys, & reuerence these gifts of God in nature, vsing them lawfully, and to the benefit of humaine societie: For it is no light offence, to be ex­cessiue and dissolute in these thinges, wherein likewise if we keep not a meane and measure, there dooth ensue hor­rible paines, not onely temporal, but also eter­nall. [Page 66] Indeede Nature admonisheth vs to bee continent, How nature admonish­eth vs to be continent. and if shee woulde not bee defor­med in the beginning, shee would haue no o­ther power vsed in ge­neration then is neces­sary: Our selues the greatest enemies to nature. but we destroy al, by vaine lubricities, in­constant & inordinate meanes, decaying Na­ture in her very selfe.

Ouer and beyonde this, the dilligence, arte and care, which nature appointeth to engen­der, preserue and per­fect the infant in the wombe of his mother: aduiseth vs to preserue and bee respectiue of [Page 67] kind. It is then great in­humanitie, rage and fu­rie, if one part do grow offensiue to another: for we see by the arche­tecture of nature, the fashion, the seate, the order and vse of euerie seuerall part, that there was an infinite power in the Creator of thys frame and peece of workmanshippe, The infinite goodnes of God in our bodies fra­ming. by so great wisedome or day­ned and compassed, by vnexpressable goodnes liberally furnished, and prouided of all thinges for norishing & main­taining the same.

Doubtlesse, whoso­euer sees not & vnder­stands [Page 68] these things, hath lost the light of true sence, and is more de­generate to humaine nature, thē Nabuchad­nezzer when hee be­came a bruite beast.

And in truth, the or­der of these powers is worthy consideration: Howe the order of the seuerall po­wers is to be considered in theyr of­fices. for (as hath beene said) the power to nourish, maintaines the distinct and singuler parts: the power of augmentati­on, giues them a iust quantitie, that is to say, greatnes, largenes and thicknes: the power to engender, preserues & supplies kinde. I say (in repeating it againe) that [Page 69] this order cleerly shews vs, that there is an eter­nall GOD, An absolute proofe of God against any Atheist whatsoeuer. who by his infinite power created these natures, & by his incōprehensible vvise­dom assigned thē theyr offices, and seperated theyr effects, as we may behold that euery one begetteth a thing like to himselfe. For these kindes are guarded in their cerkitude, and by a certaine law and ma­ner are these liuing cre­atures produced: and not confusedly (with­out counsell) mingled & confounded in their kindes.

We should consider [Page 70] and acknowledge God in nature reuerently, A note cō ­cerning christian dutie in vs to­ward God, in regard of al his diuine gifts besto­wed on vs in nature. we should esteeme the ac­tions of nourishing, gi­uing increase, and sup­plying by generation, as diuine gifts and gra­ces, the abuse whereof is punished by most horrible paines. VVe see drunkennes, licorish feeding, & grosse gur­mandizing, to bee the causes of murders, cir­cumuentions in iudge­ment, trades, traffiques and merchandises, of beggeries, and misera­ble ruine of goods and lands, of wretched dis­eases and sicknesses, as well corporall as spiri­tuall. [Page 71] As for lubricities and immoderate thefts, we see the euils and in­conueniences ensuing thereby, to be great, & in greater persons then one woulde wish to see it: wherat those of bet­ter vnderstanding re­ceiue no mean discon­tentment.

The second power of the soule, Of the po­wer Sensi­tiue, being the second power of the soule. is called sensitiue, it is that wher­by wee discerne our se­uerall actions, and it is an excellent and neces­sarie benefite to man: not only to search and seeke after his liuing, & a certaine place wherin to confine himselfe; but [Page 72] likewise for many o­ther offices requisite in humane societie. Thys power is deuided into sences exteriour & in­teriour.

Of the ex­teriour sen­ces, beeing fiue in num­ber.The sences exteriour are fiue, namely Sight, Hearing, Tasting, Sent or Smelling, and Tou­ching, & these fiue sen­ces are discerned by theyr offices, seates or organes.

1. Sight, & howe the same is wrought in vs.Sight is the sence whereby vvee beholde colours and the light, which things are prop­per obiects to the sayd power: and this per­ception is wrought by the meanes of certaine [Page 73] spirits, comming from the braine by the optick nerues, into the apple of the eye, wherein there is a christaline humour, which receiues (as by a glasse or mirrour) the kindes & lusters of co­lours, and likewise of the light.

We gather also here­by, the greatnes, figure, number, motion & po­sition of bodies, yet not singulerly and proper­ly so, but likewise these things are known with and by helpe of the o­ther sences.

Aristotle beeing de­maunded, considering we haue two eyes, wherfore [Page 74] all thinges which we behold, do not seem double to vs? the aun­swere he made thereto was thus. Aristotles answer con­cerning our two eyes. That because the nerues of the eye, are seated betweene the place of their originall, and the eye, where they meete together like the forke of a tree, therfore the spirits vnited there together, doe make the obiect seeme but one thing onely.

Of the in­ward organs of the sight, and what vse they serue vs to.The interiour organs then of this power, are the spirits assigned to that office, and they are transported by the Op­ticke nerues into the eye, whereof the exteriour [Page 75] is the eye. This power serues vs to knowe the heauens, & they moue vs to vnderstand, the power and wisedom of so great a GOD: to know also the elemēts, and them seuerallie in their natures, to the end we might make electi­on of the fairest, and leaue the deformed. Small diffe­rence be­tween life & death, but by the be­nefit of sight In sooth, there would ap­peare, no great diffe­rence betweene life and death, if we shold haue perpetuall darknesse: what a wonderful bles­sednesse then is it, and more then our frayle thoughts can stretch vnto, that GOD hath [Page 76] giuen vs this gift, name­ly, the light?

Plato saith, that our eyes are giuen vs, Platos oppi­niō, to what end our eyes are giuen vs. to in­struct vs in the know­ledge of God, whē we behold the cleerenes of heauen, with his regu­ler and ordinarie moti­ons: for this admoni­sheth vs (whether wee will or no) of the buil­der and maker of the world, of his great po­wer, wisedom, & coun­sell, and of the admira­ble and eternall light, whereof we shall haue ioy after this mortall life. This power hath his seate in the humour christaline, shut vnder [Page 77] the bal of the eye, which humour shineth of his owne nature: Where the sight hath his seate and abiding. and the nerues thereto depu­ted, doe carrie the spy­rits, which attain to the boule of the cirkle, that shewes it self in the eyes to be of diuers colours.

These spirits thē giue life to the eye, and are as a little flame, Of the spi­rits that giue life to the eye. resem­bling the Celestiall bright beame, and gi­ueth strength & power to see. The names, the matter, the qualities, & the seat of the balls and humours of this mem­ber, wee leaue vnto the Phisicall Anatomists: but properly and pecu­lierly, [Page 78] by this sence wee apprehend the light & colours, for, as Aristo­tle sayth, Aristotles iudgment of the eye. the eye can see nothing, but onely by his colour, which co­lour is the qualitie of a commixed body, par­ticipating of the light.

A question concerning the sight of the eye.One demaunds, how those things offered & apprehēded by the eye, or whether so euer it addresseth it selfe, are thereby perceiued? the common aunswere is, The answer worth the noting. the light beeing in the colour of the thing seene, spreads and ex­tends his beames tho­row the ayre, and thys light formes an image [Page 79] in the eye, as in a mir­rour, because that the beame when it findes the eye, redoubles if self & gathers together, & so the image is made: as wee shall see the Sun beame, An excellent comparison. entring by a cre­uise or crannie into an obscure place, when it settles it selfe vpon any hard thing▪ as on a wall, it engrosseth & redou­bles it selfe, as is very ea­sie to be noted.

If the light bee ouer violent, it may hurt and offende the eye, How easilie the eye may be offended as wee may see by the flash of lightning: and any co­lour that is too excel­lent, cannot suddenlie [Page 80] and perfectly be discer­ned, but it raiseth some debilitie in the sight, as we may see likewise by snowe: but question­lesse, the whole nature of the light is full of meruailes, and can ney­ther be perfectly expli­cated, nor sufficientlie vnderstood.

The maner how colours are truly di­scerned.The kinds or images of whatsoeuer colours, are not perceiued at all, but onely by the means of the aire, or the water, as we may note, when one offers a thing too neer vnto the eye, then the beholder doth not plainly see it, for assu­redly, the light which is [Page 81] in the colour, is very feeble, and a man can­not see or discerne it, without some distance, yea, and very ample meanes of it selfe. The true capacitie of the eye in sight. And it is also to bee vnder­stoode, that the eye ne­uer sees any thing, but according to a direct line, and that the shapes or images which come into the eye, doe carrie the figure or likenes of a Piramides, which fi­gure is seated in the thing seene, and so in a direct sharpnesse ren­ders it to the eye.

The commodities of this sence are euident, The bene­fits which the sence of sight yeel­deth. as well for the knowledge [Page 82] of God, our search for safetie and assuraunce, our willing preuention of perrils and inconue­niences: as also for our choyse and election, of those things which are beautiful and fayre, and leauing them, which in themselues appeare to be ill shapte and coun­terfeit, & God knowes what confusion would happen in our life, if we had not this happie and gracious power of sight.

2. Of Hea­ring, & the organs ther­to appertay­ning.Hearing is a Sence wherby we apprehend sounds, which sence is garnished outwardlie with an organe ample [Page 83] enough for entraunce, but crooked and ful of windinges in descen­ding, to the end that by little & little, the sound might gather it selfe to­gether in the organe: for otherwise, if the sound entred violentlie, & altogether, it would greatly hurt the power sensuiue.

Sounde is a qualitie, What sound or noyse is, and howe it makes it selfe. onely cōming from the fraction of the ayre, which is made whē two bodies large and harde do beat against one an­other. This fraction is made in the ayre, as wee may easily see, when we throw a litle light stone [Page 84] vpō the water, it makes an appearance like litle circles, in turning and entring into the water: and euen as in small & narrovve Fountaines, those circles beat often against the walls, and so redouble them-selues: euen so in places which are cauernie, vaulty, or in forrests that are well furnished with Trees, the ayre comming frō such hollow breakings, doth very audibly and perfectly redouble the sounds.

The meanes wherby any such soūd or noise is apprehended, Of the means wherby eyther sounde or noise is ap­prehended. is the ayre, for thereby is the [Page 85] sounde carried to the hole or buckole of the eare, and is there enter­tained by another inte­riour ayre, tempered by diuers sweet spirits, on­ly thereunto naturallie ordained, vvhich (a­gainst a litle thin skinne spredde ouer the hole,) renders back againe the sounde; as wee see the skin doth vpon a drum or tabour.

This sounde made a­gainst the saide thinne skin, Howe all sounds are conueyed to the sence common. by the spirits tem­pered of the sweete na­turall ayre, is conuayed by the nerues (for that seruice deputed) to the sence cōmon, where only [Page 86] is made the dijudicati­on & discretion, of the qualities of all kinds of soundes: to wit, which are obtuse or piercing, which are sweet, rude, wandring or delight­ful, & so of al other dif­ferences and varieties in the sounds.

The maner how our voyce or speech is formed.To this purpose may wee speake of our hu­maine voyce or speech, which is formed and made on high at the rude, rough, and sharp arterie, for so some call the cōduit or wezand, vvhere the tongue (at the entraunce of the throat) smites & cleaues the ayre, as we may ve­rie [Page 87] apparantly beholde in our Flutes, so is the voyce made in the we­zand, and so is guided right alōgst the throat. Therefore Fishes doe forme no voyce at all, An excellent note cōcer­ning our voyce or speech. for they haue no such conduit, neither lungs or lytes, by the motion whereof, ayre might mount vp into theyr throat: these things are euident, but the meanes and causes are hidden, beeing an especiall be­nefite granted by God in nature. Nor can the said causes be plainlie vnderstoode, by the weakenes and obscuri­tie of the light of our [Page 88] capacities: Notwith­standing, we ought re­uerently to giue glory to the Creator, for ha­uing so wisely created and ordained the cau­ses, motions and effects of this sence, which is so profitable and auay­ling, not onely for our health, but likewise for directing the affaires of this life: For, by thys sence vvee haue faith, By this sence wee haue fayth. saith S. Paule: thereby we also make our con­tractions, & in our con­uentions, it is necessary to vnderstand one an­other.

3 Of Smel­ling, and by what organs it is appre­hended.The sence of Smel­ling, is that wherby we [Page 89] distinguish sents and o­dours; The organe of this sence is two little spungie teates, and full of spirits, which are sea­ted beneath the fore­head, aboue the cōduit of the nostrils, whence the substaunce of the braine, conuerts to a lit­tle neruie skin, but yet exceeding soft and ve­rie tender: by the clo­sing & pressure where­of, all sents & smells are apprehended.

Nor are the two no­strills the proper sence, but onely doe serue to conuey the odour into this organe: as is verie easie to be noated; for, [Page 90] we perceiue not at al a­nie odours or smels, but only attract the ayre by the said nosthrils, to the organe seated neere the braine, to the end, such gracious smells might recreate & cherrish the braine.

Odour or sent, What o­dour, sent or smell is. is a certaine qualitie in a subtile and inuisible fume, issuing frō com­mixed bodies, where­with the ayrie humidi­tie is mingled in an earthly nature, aboun­ding eyther more or lesse, and is like a thing burnt, or much dried▪ as wee may gather by the wood of Iuniper▪ Rose­marie [Page 91] & others: wher­on it is said, that the hu­mour or moisture, go­uernes in the sauour, & the drinesse, in the o­dour.

Thinges burnt, Apt compa­risons of sents in their moist & dry kindes. that are moist in a medio­critie, doe sauour well, but such as are altoge­ther dry, haue no odour at all: because in them both cold and drinesse, are the reasons that they haue no sent.

And albeit that some colde things are odori­ferous, as bee Roses & Violets: Neuerthe­lesse, by their odor they doe heate and vvarme sweetly.

[Page 92]This is the reason, why in the East partes, things of strong sauour doe most encrease, The swee­test things haue least sauour. be­cause the coūtry is hot, and likewise things ex­ceedingly sweete, haue the lesse sauour, by rea­son they are fullest of humiditie.

Contrariwise, those thinges which bee lesse strong, & yet burning, are of the better sauour, as Rosemary is good in odoure, but very bitter in the taste.

The diffe­rences be­tween good sents and hurtfull.The generall diffe­rences of odours, are those that bee good o­dours, which comes frō the sweetest parts, and [Page 93] best digested, hauing an ayrie nature, and is a pleasing recreation to the braine. And like­wise bad odours, which are those that be called stincking, being a qua­litie comming from the corrupt and putrified parts, which is a poyson and hurt to the braine.

There be other diffe­rences of sent, taken of sauours, as is a burning and strong odour, such as the sent of Garlick or Onions: & the sower sauour, drawne from sharpnesse, as the sent of vineger. The means howe wee iudge of smells. The meane vvhereby vvee discerne and iudge of these o­dours, [Page 94] is the ayre: for Fishes do sauour a smel or odour in the water: as we beholde them to be sooner taken, by the sent of some one baite, then of another.

Sent is very necessary to our life.It is a thing very ne­cessary to life, as wel for recreating and deligh­ting the braine, by the receiuing and percep­tion of kindliest & best pleasing sauour [...] ▪ as also for freeing and ridding (by the nosthrils) the superfluities of the braine.

4 Of the sence of Ta­sting▪ & his organe.The sence of Tast­ing, is that whereby we discerne and rellish sa­uours: the organe of [Page 95] this sence, is a neruous skinne, spred ouer the fleshe of the tongue, which fleshe is full of pores, slacke, slow and spungy. Howe the tongue re­ceiues his tast. The selfe same skin is extended to the pallate, and hath his o­riginall of those nerues which discende by the pallate, to the roote of the tongue, & giues the tongue his power to taste, & to discerne the foure chiefest qualities: Now because the sayd flesh is full of spirit and humour, the more ea­sily is therin impressed the sauour of things.

The meanes of thys powers vse in his acti­ons, [Page 96] is the saide loose or slack flesh, The means of the tastes vse in his actions. & the spet­tle or moisture which is aboue it: and therefore we see, that such as haue an Ague, find al things bitter, for their spettle is bilious or hot, as much to say, as mingled with the chollerick humour.

The obiect of thys sence, Sauour, the onely ob­iect of taste. is sauour, which is a certaine qualitie in the thing, hauing more humiditie then drines, vvhich is digested by the heat naturall. Many sorts of sauours. There be many sorts of sauors, which make very much for our further know­ledge: because they shewe and teach the di­uers [Page 97] temperature and complexion of things, and for whom they are meetest, vvhich is a matter well worth the regarding and vnder­standing, as wel for our ciuill regiment in dyet, as for the remedie of diseases: for, as Galen saith, it is necessary that our nouriture shoulde be sweet, or prepared, & mingled with things that are pleasing and sweet.

The sauour that is sweet, as of honnie, Of the sweet sauour. or of sweet wine, doth de­light the tongue, be­cause such a sauour is ayrie, & agreeing with [Page 98] our fleshe and bloode, proper also to nourish­ment, temperate both in heate and drought: for, (as is already sayd) it is needfull that the nourishment be sweet, or at least tempered with sweetnes, because sweet viands & drinks, doe mollifie and fill the parts which are dry & vacant.

Of the sa­uour ouer sweet.But notwithstand­ing, such things as are exceeding sweet, as Su­ger and honie, doe a­bounde in their ayrie heate, and very easilie enflame and conuert into choller: therefore such as vse Suger and [Page 99] honie too often, or a­boundantly, it ingen­ders in thē strong cho­ler, & putrifactions al­so, onely by the aboun­ding of humours. Of the fatte & marrowie sauour. The sauour which is neerest to this before named, is the fat and marrovvie, which is not so hott as the former: such is the sauour of butter, oyle, and flesh.

A meane in vsage of thē is good, for thinges which are ouer fattie, do hurt much: because they will floate vpō the stomacke, offend and hinder digestion, and also doe engender op­pilations.

[Page 100] What sa­uours best agree with nature, and most please the taste.These two sauors are most agreeable to na­ture, and delight the tast of a healthfull per­son. For, euen as the hand glads it selfe, at the entrance into luke­warme water, beeing made temperate in his heate: so the taste de­lights it selfe in thinges sweet and fatty, because they are indeed tempe­rately hotte, like vnto the blood and flesh, & also doe procure delec­tation, in that they a­gree in temperature with nature.

Of the bitter sauour.The sauour which wee call bitter, is pro­perly contrarie to the [Page 101] sweete, and is a sauour that frets, makes hoarse and bites the tongue, & is of an earthy nature or complexion, which beeing thick also, hath naturally in it an ex­cesse of heat in drines: as is the taste of worm­wood and Aloes, and therefore thinges ouer bitter, doe neuer nou­rish.

The sauour strong and ardent, Of the strōg and hot sauour. differs frō the bitter, for not one­ly doth it wring, byte, and teare the tongue: but also it burnes and chaps it, which pene­trates & enters by hea­ting and drying ex­treamely: [Page 102] This sauour exceeds the bitter in hotnes, and such is the taste of Pepper, Gin­ger, Sneesing-woorte, Garlick and Onions.

There is a sauour cal­led sower, drawing on sharpnes, Of the sow­er sauour. which in re­turning backe becom­meth cold, whereby it flagges & weakens the tongue much: vvhich sauour is both colde & dry, neuerthelesse it ex­ceedeth most in cold­nes, and such is the sa­uour of Sorrell.

The sauour of vine­ger is not altogether so, for, as it retaines some obscure and weak heat, [Page 103] so is it also some-vvhat strong, and yet therein is coldnes most; For, when the ayrie partes thereof are cast foorth, it remaines earthie in some chillie humour.

Hence is it naturallie receiued, The shar­pest sauours doe most vrge appe­tite. that sharpest thinges doe giue most appetite: because they deiect the superfluous humours, gathered be­fore together at the en­trance of the ventricle, onely by byting, with­out any burning. So doth Sorrel seem good for such as haue a Fea­uer, not onely because it casts out & dischar­ges the ayrie superflui­ties, [Page 104] but likewise, by rea­son it moderates the heate chollerick.

The sauour called greene, Of y ^e greene sauour, that edgeth the teeth. which setts the teeth an edge, shuts vp and drawes backe the tongue: Wherefore it hath the power to col­lect, thicken, and bind fast, being of an earthy nature, crude, cold, & dry, therefore it differs from the precedent sa­uour, because the for­mer is of a subtile na­ture, and this other is thickning: of such tast are Medlars and other greene fruites, before they are come to theyr maturitie, for whē they [Page 105] are ripe, they haue a commixed sauour, as mingled both vvith sweetnes & greenenes. Of the rude and sharpe sauour. There are other sauors besides these, as that which is termed rude, & sharpe too, that soft­ly dries & hardens the tongue, yet neyther wrests nor binds it, like the precedent taste: in nature it is earthy, mas­siue, cold and dry, ne­uerthelesse, more hotte and moist then the o­ther.

Galen saith, that this rellish is good in wine, for wines of this taste, doe naturally shutte vp and dry the ventricle, [Page 106] casting fumes of small heat vp to the braine.

The salt sauor makes not any retyring of the tongue, Of the salt sauour. but it whets it by washing and drying it, for salt guardeth frō putrifactions, because it thinneth and drieth the parts seuerally, perfect­ing all the humidities; wherfore salt hardneth soft flesh, and softneth hard: for, as in the soft it consumeth all super­fluitie of humour, so in the harde it attenuates and softens the parts, making the more mild and daintie, beeing of an earthy nature, thick, hotte, and dry.

[Page 107]Some things are said to be without sauour, Of thinges without sa­uour. because in thē are not to be foūd any of these natures before expres­sed.

The sence of Tou­ching, 5. Of the sence of Touching and his or­gane. is that whereby we discerne the foure chiefest qualities, to wit, heat, cold, drought and moistnes. The or­gane of this, is not in a­ny sole or alone part of the body, but is like a thin skinne or neruie caule, which is spredde ouer the whole bodie, vnder the vppermost skinne, taking his ori­ginall from the braine, and from the mouth of [Page 108] the chine bone in the backe. The most sub­tile nerues, doe make the most sensible parts, as are those nerues that descend into the purse of the hart, and to the ventricle. Of the be­nefit of this sence. The benefite of this sence is appa­rent, for a man delights when hee is hotte, to touch coole things, & the coldest parts of the body, take pleasure in touching thinges that are warme.

The interiour sence is a power working by organes, Of the in­ward sence, and where it is seated. seated within the brows or forehead, appointed for know­ledge and vnderstan­ding, [Page 109] excelling all the exteriour sences. For if wee should apprehend onely the things, which offer and present them selues before vs, with­out discerning or ma­king any iudgement of them, it would profite vs but very little: For, what auailes it to looke on black and white, & not to discerne or seue­rally distinguish them? Therfore the sence in­teriour is very behoue­full, The neces­sity of the inward sence to make discreti­on and dijudication of things, by their seuerall causes & effects: as the horse, accustomed to passe by the way where [Page 110] hee hath once falne, growes afraid of falling there againe, this hath thē some power aboue the outwarde sences, whereof we shal come to speake hereafter.

The sence cōmon, and memory, according to Aristotle.Aristotle nūbers the sences interiour, to bee two: to wit, the Sence common, and Memo­rie.

Galens addi­tion of co­gitation.Galen puts another to these two, called Cogitation, so hee ac­counts thē to be three.

Fiue inward sences.There be others that name fiue inward Sen­ces, to wit, the Sence common, 1. Sence common. which re­ceiues the images and apparitions of thinges [Page 111] presented to the out­ward sence.

Secondly, 2. Sence i­maginatiue. the sence Imaginatiue, which di­scernes the actions of each one of the exteri­our sences.

Thirdly, 3. Sence e­stimatiue. the sence E­stimatiue, which by one thing iudgeth another: as a horse, when one strokes or clapps him, conceiues that he takes pleasure in him.

The fourth sence is called Deliberation or Cogitation, 4. Sence de­liberatiue. which ga­thers (frō furthest off) the causes of thinges: these doe conferre and make iudgement, after knowledge is receiued, [Page 112] what difference and a­greement hath beene betweene them, which vertues and effects on­ly they haue.

The won­derfull pro­uidence of God for his creatures.Our eternall GOD, hath by his (prouidēce) enstamped in his crea­tures, a moouing mer­uailous, to search and seeke after thinges ne­cessarie for conseruati­on of their liues, and remedies likewise for their diseases: as Ser­pents that seeke after Fennell, for clearing of theyr eyes, or young Asses that search for the hearbe Ceterach, to allay theyr melanchol­lie.

[Page 113]The Serpent or Snake, A strange example of the Snake & the Lam­prey. beeing willing to meet or company with the Fish called a Lamprey, begins to hisse or whi­stle, to procure her cō ­ming, and perceiuing that she comes, to meet and bee sociable vvith him, he casts his venim on the grauell, as fea­ring to engender (of her) by venim or cor­ruption: but when he hath ended, he returnes againe to seeke his ve­nim, which if hee finde not, he dies with griefe, for hauing lost his armes or weapons.

Now, albeit that they doe these thinges natu­rally, [Page 114] yet wee may not­withstāding iudge, A kinde of deliberati­on in dumb creatures, confirmed by exāples. that they haue herein some kinde of deliberation: as we may note for ex­ample in a dogge, that knowes his owne mai­ster amongst a huge croude of people.

A Foxe, a Cat, a Ly­on, and other beastes, which haue been seene to doe admirable acts: and as for Swallowes & Bees, although they performe very meruai­lous workes, yet for all that, they haue much lesse cogitation then they afore-named.

5. Sence is memory.The fift interiour sence, is Memory. The [Page 115] organe of the sence cō ­mon, The organe of the sence common, & his place. is two ventricles at the doore or entrāce of the braine: as much to say, as vvhen the nerues of the sence ex­teriour, doe carry their spirits in their concaui­ties or ventricles, then afterward do these spi­rits imprint or stampe the shapes and images of things in the braine: and thus the sence inte­riour workes his acti­ons.

It is certain that there be many powers in the inward sences: for, Many pow­ers in the in­ward sences. a man may loose memo­rie, without any detri­ment to estimation: [Page 116] moreouer, when esti­mation is wounded, thē medicine or remedie is applied to the forepart of the heade, but when memory is weakened, then helpe is giuen to the head behind.

Cogitation hath his organe in the midst of these two ventricles or concauities, The organe of cogitati­on, and his seate. which are before in the head, and this power is more ex­cellent to some, then o­thers, according to the better composing of their heads: as wee see some more sudden and quick in inuenting any thing, then others are. Some also wil diuine & [Page 117] iudge more certainly of a proposed case, Example of this sences power. then others: as Salomon so readily perceiued that the woman lyed, who would haue the infant deuided in twaine, and distributed to her and the aduerse partie by halfes, for he conferred the affectiō of the mo­ther indeede, with the other parties, vvhich was nothing at all vnto the child.

The organe of Me­morie is behinde in the brain, The organe of memorie & his place. which part hath lesse humiditie thē be­fore, and is more apt to conserue the images & shapes of things.

[Page 118] Of the brain in his kinds, of diuersitie.A braine too moyst, doth easily apprehend thinges, but suddenly forgets them againe: wheras, the braine that is harder, apprehends more difficultly, but re­taineth longer.

Cold and drinesse of the brain, is a very per­nicious thing for me­morie: wherefore it is saide, that lubricitie is a plague, which spends all humour naturall in a man or woman, and most certaine is it, that age then comes, when naturall heate & natiue humiditie do most de­cline.

The power appetente, [Page 119] is that wherby we pur­sue or flie those thinges which present them­selues before vs: This power is called sensitiue appetite, vvhereby all our affections, do pur­sue what we haue ap­prehended by the exte­riour sence.

There is one kind of appetence or desiring, Two kindes of appetence in the sences which begets it selfe by touching, and is one while tearmed griefe, another while delecta­tion: the other is made without touching: & so ensues cogitation, or moouing of the hart, whereby wee followe vvhat is offered, and [Page 120] which cogitation (be it true or false) shewes what is most conueni­ent for nature, or makes vs shun the things that are not conuenable: so that naturally wee may perceiue it cannot bee otherwise, but that the thing presented to the eye, must bee from it a sufficient distaunce, or else it is not seene, ney­ther can the Nerues doe theyr delighting functions, but in tou­ching those thinges a­greeing with nature, vvhereas contrariwise, those things which are disagreeable, breaking and hurting the parts, [Page 121] must needes bee yrke­some to them, and very painfull.

True it is, Of the po­wer Motiue. that the motiue power may be restrained by the will, for, if wee please, vvee may shut our eyes, and thē vve can behold no­thing at all: but vvhile the eye is open, and at libertie, distant frō his obiect by a sufficient space, it cannot but re­ceiue the image there­of; therefore such as haue saide, that griefes are oppinions, Of greefes. which come and goe accor­ding to imagination, haue spoken against manifest and vniuersall [Page 122] experience.

Foure prin­cipall affec­tions. 1. Ioy. 2. Feare. 3. Hope. 4. Hate. The oppo­sites foure. 1. Loue. 2. Greefe. 3. Enuie. 4. Iealosie.There be foure prin­cipall affections, to wit, ioy, feare, hope, and hate, whereunto are re­duced loue, greefe, en­uie, iealosie and others. And surely it is a mer­uailous thing, that so soone as a man hath knowledge of a thing pleasing or offensiue: the hart moues it selfe, and likewise the spirits and humors of the bo­die.

Of anger, & the hurt it doth the braine.As in anger, the hart (as rising to reuendge himselfe) labours and beates, & then the spi­rits beeing chafed, doe heat the blood, and the [Page 123] actions of the members are troubled, by the suddaine moouing of the spirits and confusi­on of the blood: but e­specially in rage or an­ger, the braine is hurt by the bloode, and the spirits inflamed or o­uer-heated, doe mount thether, by fiering the nerues and substaunce of the braine▪ vvhich causeth a shaking or trembling in the heade, by vehement and sud­daine mouing, as also a present fiering of the eyes, & all the face be­commeth as burning: therefore, by ouer ve­hement anger, are fren­zies [Page 124] ingendered, & of­tentimes Apoplexies.

Homers op­pinion con­cerning an­ger.Homer saith, that an­ger is sweeter thē milk, as meaning, that a man takes great pleasure, whē he may reuendge himself, as he that loues ardently, is buried (as it were) in ioy, when hee hath the iouissaunce of the thing by him be­loued. Of feare, and how it hurts the hart. Feare is a moo­uing of the hart or af­fection, vvhereby the hart shuttes vp it selfe, as flying and shunning euill to happen, and this affection agrees with greefe: for albeit the harme or euil is not yet present, neuerthe­lesse [Page 125] it is woūded ther­by, as if it were instant. In like maner, The hurt of greefe and sadnesse. in griefe or sadnes, the hart (as beeing pressed downe & close shut) is weake­ned, by drying & lan­guishing, for not ha­uing the libertie of the spirits: wherefore, if it continue long in this e­state, it prepares the death of the body, be­cause the spirits, by their long pining and con­sumption, can giue no further help or succour to it: beholde vvhat great hurt ensues by greefe and sadnes.

Loue is a mouing of the hart, Of loue, and how it helps the hart. whereby wee [Page 126] desire some thing, be it truly good, or but in apparance only. In this mouing, the hart doth (as it were) leap & flie, striuing to attract that thing vnto it, onelie to enioy it: Hope dooth best of all agree vvith this affection, but yet she is more vehement.

Of hate and his hurt.Hate is a kind of cō ­stant & permanent an­ger: and anger & hate are contrary to loue.

Of Shame.Shame is a motion, whereby a man despi­seth and growes agree­ued at himselfe, for som faulte or turpitude by him committed.

Of mercy.Mercie is a greefe [Page 127] which a man takes for the paines, miseries or aduersities of another.

Enuie is a sorrowe of one man, at the good, Of Enuie. cōmoditie, or aduance­ment of another.

Iealosie is a mouing, Of Iealosie. mingled with loue and anger, to wit, vvhen a man loues some thing▪ and growes displeased against such, as doe harme, dishonor, or ill to the thing he loueth: as the prophet Helias, louing the honor pro­per to God, grewe of­fended at the misbelie­uers. How a king ought to be iealous. So should a king or gouernour of a coū ­try, bee inflamed with [Page 128] the loue of iustice, the profit, honour and ad­uantage of honest peo­ple: contrariwise, hee ought to despise the wicked, vngracious, se­ditious, and disturbers of peace, loyalty, and publique truth.

An affecti­on more hurtful then the rest.There is another af­fection, which hath no name neither in Latine nor French, & it is cō ­trary to iealosie: that is, when one desires the losse and ouerthrow of the good, and the exal­tation of hypocrites, ly­ers, and seditious per­sons, such as were Ne­ro, Tymon, & (it may be) others of like qua­litie [Page 129] now in these times.

Ioy is a moouing, Of ioy, and how it de­lighteth the hart. wherby the hart dilates it selfe, & sweetly takes pleasure at present good: it disposeth it selfe in hope, to receiue a future good.

Some of these affec­tions are good and a­greeable to GOD: Of affecti­ons pleasing to God. as are honest loue of thy neighbour, of thy chil­dren, thy wife and thy country: iealosie of the honour and glorie of God: desire for the ad­uauncement of vertu­ous people: feare of the anger and iudge­ments of God: hatred of Tyrants, seditious & [Page 130] dissolute disturbers of publique peace: hope and cōfidence in God in all afflictions what­soeuer, beeing assured that he sees vs, and that he will still haue com­passion on vs.

What the contrary are.The other are vici­ous, as enuie, hate, and those beside, vvhich trouble the peace of humaine communica­tion, and are the paines or penalties of the first fault, dispersed ouer all mankinde: the meane or moderation of them is very necessary, for the cōseruation of hu­maine societie, beeing the onely butte & aime [Page 131] of morall phylosophie, and of all ciuill lawes in generall.

And certainly, The hurt of humane so­cietie. ney­ther can this societie or religiō be maintained, except we refraine frō auarice, hate, and other such like vicious affec­tions, which horriblie doe deforme nature in this part, it remaines then to support thys part with all diligence and respect.

The organe or seat of thys power, is the hart, The organe of the pow­er appetēte. & not any part of the braine at all, for often­times a man shal desire what hee knowes to be ill: as Ouid saide of [Page 132] Medea: I see & approue the good, but I doe the e­uill. And S. Paule: I see another lawe in my members: that is to say, the hart, repugnant to the lawe of my vnder­standing, & it holdeth me in captiuitie, vnder the law of sin and death: and many other things (to like effect) in his Epi­stle to the Romanies. In briefe, very often is iudgement reprooued by affection, whereby then it is most cleere & euident, that our affec­tions are not in the braine, where indeede is the certaine know­ledge of thinges.

[Page 133]In this sort disputes Galen, Galen, con­cerning our affections. and by the same reason it is apparant, that affections are not oppiniōs, as the Stoicks held and esteemed thē to be.

That the affections are not of the liuer nor the other parts, Affections are not of the liuer nor the other parts. where the naturall appetenti­ons are, of eating and drinking, it is manifest: for, the affections can easilie appease them­selus, or vse some kinde of moderation, appre­hending the same by reason, and demon­strations: but the na­turall appetites, as to eate or drinke, will not [Page 134] be guided by any rea­son: for, as Homer saith, there is nothing more impressing or continu­ally vrging, Homers saying of the belly. then the belly, especially when it is hungry: for it com­pells vs to be mindfull thereof, although vve had no care thereof at all, and albeit wee had neuer so many other things to doe.

Seeing then that our affections haue theyr seate, neyther in the braine, nor in those parts where the organe is of the power vegeta­tiue: we must cōclude thē, that they are in the hart, for the hart is io­cond [Page 135] and merry in ioy, mirth, loue, and hope, but in greefe, anger, feare, hate, & such like, it is wearie, and much troubled.

The holie Scripture saith, Cōcerning our loue to GOD. that a man ought to loue God with al his hart, as much to say, as by the affection to re­ceiue the fruition: to pursue this loue in cheerefulnesse of hart, desiring to please him, and in truth (without feigning) to embrace, franckly entertaine, & fulfill his Lawes, tru­sting in him, & expec­ting health onely from him: heereto are redu­ced [Page 136] the commaunde­ments of the first Ta­ble. The degrees of the com­maūdemēts, in the first Table. Now because those works & labors which God commaundes vs, ought to be done of vs in cleannes of hart, not hipocritically, or vvith dissembling: wee will speake a little thereof heere in this place.

The first commaun­dement dooth strictlie charge vs, Of the first commaun­dement. to stande in awe and feare of God: wherby we may assure our selues without any doubting, that hee is a God, to whom we owe obedience, and that he punisheth the faultes, offences, excesses and [Page 137] malices of men.

The second expres­seth, Of the se­cond com­mandemēt. how iealous hee is of his honour, that hee will haue no partner or competitour in his ho­nour, much lesse anie attribute at all to be gi­uen to stocks or stones, images, or inuentions of mens idle braines: the penalties of such offences are therin de­scribed, & to what ge­nerations it in iustice extendeth, vvee ought then to be most careful of his honour & glory.

The third, Of the third commaun­dement. chargeth vs to doe all honor and reuerence to the Name of God, & it is the ex­teriour [Page 138] honor which is contained in this com­maundement, wherby we are enioyned: that with great heede, wise­dome and feare, wee should take care of an oath, for affirmation of any thing, because it is most certain, that God hath an eye on all our dooings, and that hee wil seuerely punish our iniquities.

So then wee shoulde affirme truth in an oths taking, and desire him to punish vs iustly, if we sweare not truly, or if wee doe beguile and deceiue any one: here­by also wee are taught, [Page 139] to detest and holde as horrid, all blasphemies & speeches, which are contrary to Christian religion, and so it is cō ­maunded in the inuo­cation on God.

The fourth cōmaun­dement, Of the 4. commaun­dement. consisteth in the obseruation of ce­remonies and duties, thereto belonging, as also in their diligent re­garding: according to our entraunce into the knowledge of God, of which knowledge they are visible signes, exci­ting vs to obseruaunce of true religion. Then the true performing of the commaundements [Page 140] in the first Table, is true feare of God, The sum of the first Ta­ble, well worthy to be regarded. certaine trust in his mercy, obe­dience to all his com­maundements, expli­cation and publication of his doctrine, inuoca­tion for his ayde and propitiation, giuing of thankes, praise of his Name & glory, for the creation, conseruation, & manutention of na­ture, beeing his ovvne worke, created, conser­ued, furnished, proui­ded and maintained by him: behold heere the lawes of the first table.

Of the se­cond table.In the second Table, is contained necessarie precepts for our owne [Page 141] pollitique societie: for, first of all, such a state cannot be rightly main­tained, except there be a kinde of degree and order obserued among men.

It is that whereof A­ristotle speakes in his Pollitiques, Aristotle in his Polli­tiques, con­cerning the difference a­mongst mē. there are some naturally free, & others as seruaunts: as much to say, as that some haue (by the gift of GOD bestowed on nature) more light of vnderstāding, & more purity of affections, thē others can reach vnto, to the end, that they may guide and guarde by edicts, lawes & sta­tutes, [Page 142] the affaires & ne­gotiations of thys lyfe. Such were the ancient law-makers, Pretors, & Iurisconsults, who left vnto vs so many pro­uident lawes, gathered by certaine demonstra­tions, of the cleerenesse and light, which God had infused and placed in their vnderstanding, as also theyr sincere loue & iealosie, for the tranquility of publique peace: S. Paules af­firmation of lawes & o­bedience. Which Lawes, (saith S. Paule) beeing written in our harts and consciences, woulde giue vs testimonie of them. What men are to bee honoured.

Such personages thē ought to be honoured, [Page 143] as, holding the bridle of authority, do tame rude seruaunts, that is to say, such as cannot cleerelie iudge of thinges: or (thorowe their inordi­nate affections) do per­petrate crimes, & com­mit offence to the ciuil bodie, or to the honors or goods of others.

There are two man­ner of gouernments, Two man­ner of go­uernments, the first cō ­pulsiue. one is, to force & com­pell the rebellious con­temners of honestie: like vnto a maister, who constraines his seruant (willing or vnwilling) to doe his dutie, with­out any refusall or con­tradiction.

[Page 144] The second, ciuill and o­bedient.The other manner of gouernment, is polli­tique and ciuil, as when without compulsion, a man freely dooth the acts of honestie, hold­ing in horrour and ab­homination, all wic­kednes and turpitude: namelie, when a man in reason is perswaded, that it ought to be so: as Pericles, Pericles ru­ling of the Athenians. who by ho­nest reason & speeches guided the Athenian Common-wealth: or as a holy & wise Prea­cher gouerneth his cō ­gregation and church. Seuerall af­fections in the multi­tude. In this multitude, eue­rie one haue their seue­rall affections, some, [Page 145] sudden inordinate mo­uings, and directlie re­pugnant to vertue: but then by perswasion, which a man perceiues to be vsed, of the hurt & inconuenience that may thereon ensue, as well publiquely as pri­uately; they are made more moderate, and faultes remitted.

God hath stamped in vs, Reason and iudgement giuen vs of God. the image and forme of either of these maners of gouerment. Reason & iudgement well and truly concei­uing thinges, fore-sees the commodities and disprofit of al enterpri­ses whatsoeuer, exci­ting [Page 146] or restraining, and accordingly moderates the affections of the hart: and this manner will hold out very well, if daily our affections be managed by sound iudgement.

The first offence, na­tures maine impedimēt.But because (in thys case) nature being dis­rancked and made vn­rulie, by the first of­fence cast generallie on all, the affections are not moderated by iudgement, deliberati­on, The wil, cō ­maunder of the affecti­ons. or honest councell: the will, as mistresse of the affections, forbids the motiue power, that shee transport not the members, to perpetrate [Page 147] vnreasonable or perni­cious things. As a man hauing a Feuer, affects to drinke inordinately: but yet the will checks the hande, that it shall not approche to the cup or glasse.

Thus see we two di­rect formes of gouern­ment, The appli­cation of the two gouern­ments in na­ture. the one (to hold back the rebellious in­sulters) in theyr office: and the other, by sweet exhortations and rea­sons, drawne from the rule of vnderstanding, to guide the obedient, and sway their actions to publique profit and honour.

Concerning the offi­ces [Page 148] we owe by dutie to our parents, Of the dutie we owe to our Parents, exampled. we haue a most cleere example in nature: as we may easi­ly see in the young Storkes, who whē they attaine to strength and age, doe nourish & as­sist their fathers & mo­thers.

The following com­maundements, forbid to doe iniury or harme to the bodies of one an other. Of the other commaun­demēts fol­lowing. Man is created to be sociable & com­municatiue, as is shewē vs by our procreation, carefull nourishment▪ and dilligent regard of our propagation: but the principall ende of [Page 149] this societie, is for our ioynt instruction, and erudition together in the lawe of God, and al laudible actions what­soeuer.

And because impro­uident and ill aduised men, The reason why lawes & penalties were insti­tuted. haue neede of di­rectours, therefore, to the end our cōmunitie might continue sound & intire: the obstinate & stifnecked are to be exempted, & for that cause were paines and corrections by lawes instituted.

Againe, Why the deuision of possessions was thought behouefull. in this vn­brideled communica­tion and nature, the a­uarice and greedines of [Page 150] the wicked, negligent and slothful is so great, as they will not permit any one to liue in e­qualitie or proportion: and therefore the deui­sion of possessions was thought necessarie for, if all shoulde bee com­mon, then the idle, neg­ligent and carelesse wretches, woulde in short while deuoure all the riches of the indu­strious and dilligent: Cōcerning theft. for this cause therefore was cōmitting of theft forbidden.

Notwithstanding, be­cause that men should haue dealings one with another, it behooued [Page 151] that the communicati­on of theyr goods and labors, should be made by certaine measure & reasons: for, an vne­quall communication, that is to say, when the price or recompence shalbe ouer-exceeding, or else of too light or little value; such enter­course among men, The reason of iustice in our contrac­tions. cannot be long main­tained: heereupon en­sued iustice, which ren­ders to euery one his rightfull proportion, in dealing & contracting thus one with another.

More-ouer, our ac­cords, contracts, trans­actions, cōfederations, [Page 152] & appointments made by voluntarie agree­ments, Without truth, no so­cietie can be obserued. are to be kept: for, without truth, fide­litie & loyaltie of pro­mise in our contracts, humaine conuersation can neuer be cōtinued. Marke then howe na­ture desires conseruati­on of her selfe.

Natures cō ­seruation of herselfe: & our iniury to her and our selues.In eating and drink­ing, temperance must be obserued: for, intē ­peraunce corrupts na­ture, and inordinate lubricitie spoyles the sanctified combination of marriage, troubles titles of succession, wardshippes, cases of dowrie, & al pollitique [Page 153] order, all which are in­deede most pernitious woundes to pollitique and discreete societie.

Thus see we the law to agree with nature, The lawe a­greeing w ^t nature, and in what ma­ner. which first of all esta­blished Religion, after­ward constituted Ma­gistrates, thē they de­uised to ordaine lawes, for defence of such as were oppressed either in goods or bodie: cō ­maunding honor to be giuen to men of worth and desert, and they to be committed to al po­litique functions, by certaine▪ formes and lawes. So grew establi­shing of mariages, and [Page 154] perfect discerning of possessions, as also iust orders and degrees of correction for all loose wantons, ouer-daring resisters, and wilful cō ­temners of the lawes.

Assuredly, the prin­cipall and chiefest cau­ses of these lawes, The lawes them selues the voice of nature, by their causes. are e­uen thēselues the voice and sentence of nature restored, & reformed, that is to say: the acti­ons of the light of vn­derstanding, ordered by the very purest: and sincerest braines, illu­mined and renued by the grace of God; doe declare in what estate this life is guided and [Page 155] gouerned, and the pre­scriptions in the Deca­logue apointed, which expresse to the very life, the forme of liuing according to the inte­gritie of nature.

Nowe to returne to the poynt of the harts moouing, Two kindes of mouing in the hart, first by the pulse. there are two sorts of moouing: one is called the pulse, whē the spirits engen­dred at the hart, moue the same, by meanes of the organes thereto de­puted by nature, and likewise when by dila­tation or cōtraction of his ventricles, the arte­ries driuen forward by the subtile spirits with­in [Page 156] them, doe conuay & administer heate tho­row all the body.

Novve, albeit these thinges are very admi­rable, yet notwithstan­ding, the affections, which are the mouers of the hart, (as we haue heeretofore saide,) are worthy of farre greater and much more admi­ration.

The hart mooueth likewise by contrarietie of humours, seuerally by each one of them.The hart dilated or shut vp, mooueth also by diuersitie of hu­mours: as in anger, it is mooued by the cholle­rick humour: in ioy it is mooued by the verie sweetest blood, and sends the same (as wit­nesse) [Page 157] to the exteriour parts. In feare, it calls it selfe backward, & in griefe it is trobled with the humour of mellan­chollie.

Doubtlesse, in these motions of diuers hu­mours, are fumes and risings vp of diuers cō ­plexions: nor is it anie easie matter to cōpre­hend the causes of these moouings, or the coūsell of God in these their natural functions. Of the effi­cient causes (inwardly & outwardly) of the harts moouing. The efficient causes of these affections, are in vs interiourly the hart, and exteriourly the things which offer thē ­selues vnto vs, eyther [Page 158] pleasing or offensiue: but it is necessarie that knowledge shold pre­ceede affection, for, as one saith: no man euer desired, what hee had not first knowledge of.

Ye haue the very like combination betweene the powers of nature, Of the pow­ers of nature answerable to the harts affections, & their dif­ference. and that the motions of the hart, doe iustly an­swer to the knowledge which a man hath of a­ny thing: but there is a difference in the com­plections or tempera­tures of the hart, & the spirits, and the bloods present beeing, for, the hart beeing hotte and dry, is the sooner kind­led, [Page 159] whereon wee see some more suddenly to bee enflamed with an­ger, then others are, & the moouings of the hart & the spirits, mo­ueth the blood (not e­uer-more) after one kinde, but diuersly, and according to the diuer­sitie of the affections.

Therefore in griefe or sadnesse, Of the hart in greefe & sadnes, and the bloods office in ser­uice then. the hart be­ing shruncke vp and crowded together, the blood runnes to him, as willing to helpe him: and this is the reason, why men or vvomen (being sad, agreeued, or fearefull) are pale, mea­ger, and ill complexio­ned [Page 160] or colloured.

In ioy or anger, the hart dilates it selfe, Of the hart, in ioy & an­ger, & how the blood works then. and sends his bloode to the parts exteriour: there­fore because in anger the hart is enflamed, it mooueth redd choller, which spreading it selfe ouerprodigally abroad, infecteth all the rest of the blood.

And if it continue long in that heat, it be­commeth blacke, and seething strongly, dries vp and burnes, where­by oftentimes it hap­pens that some becom frantique, mad and de­sperate.

Those men that a­bound [Page 161] in mellancholy, Of mellan­chollie and chollericke men, & their conditions. mingled with red chol­ler: are enuious, full of ill will, and of verie strange and hard con­ditions.

Sanguine men are ioyous, Of sanguine men. delightfull and pleasant, by the aboun­dance and cleerenes of their blood, for the spi­rits in them are pure & full of rich splendour.

The phlegmatick are dull, remisse, Of phleg­matick mē. sleepie & heauie: because theyr blood is thin, & theyr spirits scant warme.

The mellancholick, are properly sadde and fearefull, because theyr blood is troubled, thick [Page 162] and colde, their spirits likewise impure, grosse, and (as it were) full of darknes.

Of y ^e soules societie with the body, answerable to the hu­mours.The very same soci­etie is there of the body with the soule, and her effects doe aunswer to these humours.

In griefe or sadnesse, the hart shuts it selfe, & drawing backward (as it were) attracts the hu­mour of mellanchollie to the spleene, vvhich spreading it selfe some­times on either side the body, engenders disea­ses in the sides, as plu­risies, and other verie dangerous obstructi­ons: which wee see to [Page 163] happen to such as are long time in sadnesse, meditating on nothing but matter of griefe & offence: I haue heere­to-fore experimented this hurtfull humour in my owne selfe, & ther­fore can the better speake it.

The proper causes thē of these affections, Of the pro­per causes of our affecti­ons, and whence they receiue their originall. are the things whereto a man finds himselfe & his cogitation most ap­plied: and the hart be­ing suddenly mooued, ioyning and following the knowledge of those thinges, dooth in like maner apprehend thē. It is very cleere concer­ning [Page 164] anger and griefe, that they haue theyr cause inwardlie in the hart, and the exteriour is the knowledge of some outward offen­siue thine.

So of loue in like ma­ner, for all such as are of right iudgement, loue vertue and hone­stie: as Scipio loued honour grounded on vertue, and the beautie thereof in others, moo­ued him to attempt deedes of high pro­wesse, and (oftentimes) very difficult enterpri­ses Euen so, people ex­celling in vertue, doe deerely loue together, [Page 165] for the conuenaunce and naturall similitude that is between them: Aristotles oppinion of good peo­ple & good affections. For euery one (sayth Aristotle) loueth his like; & truly good af­fections (saith hee) are causes of great profit & commoditie, and are as pricks and spurres en­citing to vertue.

Plato saith, Platos iudg­ment of an­ger. that an­ger is as the nerue of the soule, by loosing or with-drawing wherof, vertue is exercised.

Seeing thē that there is in nature, certaine or­ganes and parts proper to her actions, and cer­taine humours vvhich serue necessarily to thē, [Page 166] it behoueth, that some of thē should be voide of vice or offence: for euen as the light in the eye, is the gift of God to nature, Our good affections are diuinely inspired. euen so are good affectiōs diuinely inspired, vvhich pro­uoke and incite vs to what-soeuer is good & honest: as to loue our children, hate sin, dis­order, tirannie, force, violence and all turpi­tude.

Aristotles saying of anger in a vertuous man.The saying of Ari­stotle is very good, whē he saith, that a vertuous man vseth anger, as a Captaine doth a soul­diour: for it is most e­uident, that our actions [Page 167] would be cold and re­misse, if loue of hone­stie, & hate of vice did not seuerallie incite & moue vs. In al respects like vnto a ship, which hauing no winde, goes slowly and softly: euen so were we, if wee had no good affections, for thē our actions would be lame, slowe, and of slender effect. The cor­ruption of nature in vs, the cause of euill moti­ons. If na­ture were not corrup­ted in vs, wee should haue very good & ex­cellent moouings, and no vices at all remai­ning in vs: but the or­der & harmonie of na­ture beeing troubled, makes bad affections [Page 168] to arise in vs, and such as are repugnant to ho­nestie, which boldly do surmount, & ouer-goe those that are good, a­bastardizing, and quite ouer-throwing them.

Neuerthelesse, in all times, and in all coun­tries, in changes of cō ­mon weales, there hath euer-more beene reser­ued some heroyick na­tures, exceeding those of common course, ha­uing motions farre pu­rer, and of much grea­ter excellence then the vulgare.

Of the di­uine affecti­ons in our Sauiour.The repairer of na­ture, our Lorde Iesus Christ, had in him most [Page 169] true & pure affections: as when he threwe the Merchants out of the Temple, His zeale of his Fathers glory. onely for iea­losie hee had of the place, as also the honor and worship of God, contemning the mis­beleeuers, vvho had polluted the place of veneration, inuocation and holy sacrifice. His heaui­nes for La­zarus. In the resurrection of La­zarus, he shewed great heauines, whē he wept, as beeing greatly moo­ued in spirit: In loue, wherby he commaun­ded, His loue to little chyl­dren. that they shoulde permit little children to come vnto him: In compassion, which he [Page 170] had of the people, that had followed him in the desert and vnfruit­full places: His com­passion of them in the desert. And how many times is the word of mercie vsed, repea­ted & inculqued in the Scripture?

There is great diffe­rēce between the good affections of Christi­ans, The contra­rietie of af­fections in Christians & Infidells. and those in Infi­dels: for Christians ac­knowledge this puritie of motion, to be repai­red in thē, onely by the grace of God, & cheer­fully (for loue of him, and dreade of his dis­pleasure) do ordaine in their gouernmēts, good and honest lawes, refer­ring [Page 171] theyr actions to the glory of GOD: as did the Prophets Esay & Ieremie, who knew that God would haue Common-weales to be gouerned by holy laws, and all wicked confe­deratiōs to be cast out. The other, The wise­dom of the Heathen. (as Cicero) acknowledge not at al, that Magistrates are ordained of God, but doe build vppon their owne wisedome & po­wer, not attributing a­ny honour to God, but onely to them-selues: wherefore these moti­ons may bee thought good, yet are (by acci­dent) euill to vnbelee­uers, [Page 172] because they are not ordered, nor ruled by the knowledge and loue of God.

In this place, after our passed speech of the affections, vvhich are actions and moo­uings of the hart, accor­ding to the knowled­ges comming to it by the sences: me thinkes it shoulde not differ much frō our purpose, to speak some-what of concupiscence remay­ning in vs, Cōcerning concupi­scence aby­ding in vs. whereby we may vnderstand many disputations of Saint Paule, the estate of our owne nature, and the great domage or detri­ment [Page 173] that comes to vs by originall transgressi­on.

The worde Concu­piscence, Of the word Concupi­scence, and how it may be vnder­stood. according as it seemes to mee (yet yeelding still to better iudgement) signifies, not onely a mouing of the hart, wherby a man desires earnestly & be­yond measure, some thing that may be pre­tended for profit or plesure, as to eat, drink, or commit follie: but likewise it is a priuation & defect of light in the vnderstanding, where­of ensueth ignoraunce of God and his wil, vn­trueths, boldnes to en­counter [Page 174] with any of his inhibitions, fayling in fayth and loue towards him, as also diffidence in his gracious promi­ses.

Concupi­scence an er­rour in the will.Likewise, the same word imports an error in the will, as disobedi­ence and contempt of the commaundements of God.

The wills boldnesse in his owne pride.In these obscurities, our vnderstanding lo­ueth and conceiueth great admiratiō of him selfe, and of his ovvne wisedom, wexing bold to feigne oppinions of God, & to apprehend thē after his own plea­sure, wherby afterward [Page 175] it falls into some nar­row distresse, where it is girded vp with feare & terrour, insulting of­tentimes beyond all o­bedience.

Of these euills com­plained S. Paule, when hee saide: Rom. 7, 24▪ Miserable wretch that J am, who shall deliuer me from this bodie, so subiect to dark­nesse and death? After­ward he aunswers, Rom. 7, 25, The grace of GOD by Jesus Christ.

The word then sig­nifies not onely an ac­tion sensuall, but like­wise a vice & defect in the vnderstanding and will, by which insueth [Page 176] infinite multitudes of mishaps. So dooth the Scripture call the harts endeuours, The harts moouings ioyned with the will. because the mouing and agitation of the hart, is cōioyned with the will.

Assuredly, if nature had continued in her puritie, [...] of nature. the knovv­ledge of GOD would haue been cleere in our vnderstanding▪ where­to the will had franck­ly obeyed, but nowe is hindered only through her obscurity.

Of the con­trary moo­uings of the hart & will.The hart & wil haue moouings distort, and contrarie to God: for the will (without the feare of God and trust [Page 177] in him) loues himselfe, seeks safety in himselfe, trusts in his owne dilli­gence, delights in his owne wisedome: for a man would be honou­red and esteemed, and feares more the repro­ches or blames of the world, then of GOD his Creator.

The very like agitati­ons doe sway the hart, the sensuall motions draw the will vnto thē, as much to say, as when the hart loues the vo­luptuous pleasures of the sences, which are prohibited, or when a man hates his neigh­bour, flatly against the [Page 178] lawe of God.

To this effect spake our Sauiour; Mark, 7, 21, That out of the hart proceeded e­uill cogitations, thefts, blasphemies, murders, a­dulteries, lies, and such like other crimes.

In this then it ap­peares most certainely, The hart signifies the will and vn­derstanding. that by the hart is sig­nified the vnderstand­ing and will: as vvhen the hart takes pleasure in false oppinions, and such imaginations as are contrary to the ho­nour & glory of God.

Howe to come to the knowledge of our seluesThe consideration of these thinges, shoulde check the pride & pre­sumption reigning in [Page 179] vs, and induce vs to o­bedience, by often and feruent prayer to God, that he would renue in vs the cleere, pure and sincere light of our vn­derstanding: that hee woulde likewise make cleane our harts, and plant therein none but good affections.

As Dauid desired of God, A cleane hart, & a right spirit. And Saint Paule, who said: That Iesus Christ onely re­formes the cleerenesse of our vnderstanding, and conformes the body to his brightnesse.

The Motiue power, Of the mo­tiue power, carying the body from place to place, and what are his organes. is that whereby the bo­die [Page 180] and his parts, are transported from one place to another: the organes, are the nerues, the muscles, and the cords of the members.

The soule, the cause of the bodies moouing.Alexander Aphro­disianus saith, that the soule is the cause of the bodies moouing, as weight is the cause why a stone falls downe­ward.

Two kindes of mouing, naturall and voluntarie, and the po­wer of ey­ther.This moouing is de­uided into two kindes, naturall, and volunta­rie.

The naturall, neyther beginnes or ceasseth, according to our ima­gination and pleasure, nor can it be otherwise, [Page 181] but as when an obiect is presented, thē it is af­terward pursued: as the ventricle, vvhich drawes the receiued foode to it, & the hart attracts the spirits, ey­ther suddenly, or softly.

The voluntary moo­uing, both begins and ends at our owne plea­sure, & that is the pro­perty of this power: as is the seuerall mouings of our parts, going, rū ­ning, swimming, and such like.

There is another cō ­mixed moouing, Of a com­mixed mo­uing partly natural, part­ly voluntary. bee­ing partly naturall, and partly voluntary: as is the moouing of the [Page 182] brest or stomack. The benefit of this power is easily discerned: For thereby we seeke what is necessary for our cō ­seruation, and shunne what we imagine ther­to contrary.

It remaines to speak of the intellectuall po­wer, Of the po­wer intellec­tuall, accor­ding to S. Augustines oppinion. whereof S. Au­gustine makes an ac­commodation to the Trinitie.

The memorie, (saith hee) forming the intel­lection, represents the Father: the intellection represents the Sonne: and the will, the holie Ghost. For the Father, considering & know­ing [Page 183] himselfe, begot the Sonne; and the holie Ghost is the agitation proceeding of the Fa­ther, and of the Son.

This is the povver whereby wee know, How action becoms ap­propriate to intellection. re­ceiue, iudge and dis­cerne, hauing in it the beginning of Artes: heereto likewise is acti­on riciprocall for ther­by our actions are seen and iudged.

This power differs frō the sensitiue: How it dif­fers frō the sensitiue po­wer. for the sensitiue takes knovv­ledge but of things pe­culiare and singulerly, but this other cōceiues, and apprehends both singuler & vniuersallie.

[Page 184] Of the ob­iect of in­tellection.The obiect of thys power, is God, and the whole vniuersalitie of things, as well celestiall as elementarie.

The offices of thys power, The offices of intellec­tion. are to vnder­stand & forme in him selfe, the images & re­presentations of things, to retaine, and conferre them together: thē af­terward, to see, what a­greement & what dif­ference is between thē.

The organes of this power, The organs of intellec­tion. are the interior sences, wherof we haue discoursed already. Pla­to saith, that as the seale imprinteth on the wax, so (by meanes of the [Page 185] spirits) are the shapes of thinges imprinted in the braine. But this is the matter most mer­uailous of all, that we should retaine so great a multitude, and seue­ral diuersities of things, & likewise for so long a time: but the reason thereof can neuer bee well or sufficiently ex­pressed.

Wherfore, Our life is guided by our actions. seeing by our actions our life is guided, we should pray vnto GOD, that hee would take pittie vpon our weake nature: and that hee would renewe his image in vs, to the end we may more per­fectly [Page 186] know his workes in vs, and shewe our selues more reuerent and obedient to him.

Aristotles deuision be­tweene the two vnder­standings, actiue and passiue.Aristotle makes a de­uision, between the vn­derstanding actiue, and that which is tearmed passiue: mary hee calls the actiue vnderstand­ing nothing else, but that which inuenteth any thing, as the vn­derstanding of Archi­medes, did inuent the Compasse.

The passiue vnder­standing, is that which inuenteth not of it self, but makes approbati­on of an others inuen­tion: as he that appro­ued [Page 187] the inuention of Gunpowder, or that of the Compasse, or the Astralabe. The know­ledges of the vnder­standing, are deuided into actions and habi­tude. The knowledge which is called action, Actions and habitude, y ^e knowledges of the vn­derstanding. is that part of the vn­derstanding, which ap­prehendeth somthing, by forming the image thereof.

Habitude, is as a con­stant & resident light in the vnderstanding, whereof wee make vse whensoeuer we please.

The vnderstanding somtimes busies it selfe, and considers those [Page 188] thinges, whereof it can but hardly reach to the knowledge: as the changes of the ayre, Of specula­tiue & prac­tiue know­ledge. the reuolutions ordinarie of the heauens, & those are termed speculatiue. Sometimes it meditates on thinges that it can easily exercise, and then it is called practiue.

Of reason, & the wills cō ­iunction there-with.The word reason, is that which compre­hends, and then the vn­derstanding cōceiuing things, conferreth and makes iudgement of them, where-upon the wil makes his coniunc­tion. The defini­tion of the will. Then may the wil be thus very well defi­ned, it is a part or po­wer [Page 189] of the vnderstan­ding, which is called reason: working free­ly, after that the vnder­standing hath tried, & iudged the thing to be good or bad.

If nature had conti­nued in her first inte­gritie, The hurt of natures lack of her first condition. we should neuer haue willed, but what of it self had been good & honest: but the or­der of nature beeing perturbed, makes such an alteration, that there is a discord among the powers, & that the vn­derstanding is some­times deceued in iudg­ing of things. And al­beit it can easilie dis­cerne [Page 190] the hurtfulnes of things, yet many impe­diments doe happen to crosse it: The impe­diments or hinderances of our vn­derstanding. as selfe cōceit, or ouer-great weening in our owne selues, en­uie, and other such like harmes, which drawes vs to cōmit enormous crimes, and to trouble (sometimes) the quiet estate of the publique weale.

How Gods image be­commeth mishapen in vs.Thus becomes the image of GGD defor­med in vs, & keeps not the true Idea of his first excellence. Wherfore it behoueth vs, What wee ought to desire of God, in re­paration of our wants & defects. earnestlie to desire (with S. Paul) that GOD would make perfect his image in vs, [Page 191] & that by vnderstāding & knowing aright the cause & authour of all things, we may attaine to more noble & purer actions, as well in our vnderstāding, as in our will. Likewise, that our memorie may euer­more retaine good and holy cogitatiōs of god, and of commendable actions, whereby reli­gion is preserued & in­creased: that he would purifie our affections, & in sted of such as are euill and corrupt, ex­cite (by his holy spirite working in his Word) honest and vertuous motions in our harts. [Page 192] Moreouer, to worke so graciously in vs, that the inferiour powers may be obedient to the superiour, beeing euer­more guided, by the sa­cred direction in his word contained: to the end, that by this accord and consonance of ver­tues in our soule, the honor of God may be exalted and reueren­ced in vs, and publique tranquilitie kept and maintained, vntil it shal please him to receiue vs, and giue vs eternall rest in his high & hap­pie dwellings.