were insus'd in the first Minds by Grace So might the Heir whose Father hath in Play Wasted a thousand Pounds of ancient Rent By painful earning of one Groat a Day Hope to restore the Patrimony spent The Wits that div'd most deep and soar'd most high Seeking Man's Powers have found his Weakness Skill comes so slow and Life so fast doth fly such We learn so little and forget so much For this the wisest of all Moral Men Said he knew nought but that he nought did know And the great mocking Master mock'd not then When he said Truth was buried here below For how may we to Other Things attain When none of us his own Soul understands For which the Devil mocks our curious Brain When Know thy Self his Oracle commands For why should we the busy Soul believe When boldly she concludes of that and this When of her self she can no Judgment give Nor how nor whence nor where nor what she is All things without which round about we see We seek to know and have therewith to do But that whereby we reason live and be Within our selves we Strangers are thereto We seek to know the moving of each Sphere And the strange Cause o' th' Ebbs and Floods of Nile But of that Clock which in our Breasts we bear The subtile Motions we forget the while We that acquaint our selves with ev'ry Zone And pass the Tropicks and behold each Pole When we come home are to our selves unknown And unacquainted still with our own Soul We study Speech but others we persuade We Leech-craft learn but others cure with it W'interpret Laws which other Men have made But read not those which in our Hearts are writ Is it because the Mind is like the Eye Through which it gathers Knowledge by degrees Whose Rays reflect not but spread outwardly Not seeing it self when other things it sees No doubtless for the Mind can backward cast upon her self her understanding Light But she is so corrupt and so defac'd As her own Image doth her self afright As is the Fable of the Lady fair Which for her Lust was turn'd into a Cow When thirsty to a Stream she did repair And saw her self transform'd she wist not how At first she startles then she stands amaz'd At last with Terrour she from thence doth fly And loaths the wat'ry Glass wherein she gaz'd And shuns it still although for Thirst she die Ev'n so Man's Soul which did God's Image bear And was at first fair good and spotless pure Since with her Sins her Beauties blotted were Doth of all Sights her own Sight least endure For ev'n at first Reflection she espies Such strange Chimera's and such Monsters there Such Toys such Anticks and such Vanities As she retires and shrinks for Shame and Fear And as the Man loves least at Home to be That hath a sluttish House haunted with Sprites lights So she impatient her own Faults to see Turns from her self and in strange things de For this few know themselves For Merchants broke View their Estate with Discontent and Pain And Seas as troubled when they do revoke Their slowing Waves into themselves again And while the Face of outward things we find Pleasing and fair agreeable and sweet These things transport and carry out the Mind That with her self the Mind can never meet Yet if Affliction once her Wars begin And threat the feebler Sense with Sword and Fire The Mind contracts her self and shrinketh in And to her self she gladly doth retire As Spiders touch'd seek their Web's inmost part As Bees in Storms back to their Hives return As Blood in danger gathers to the Heart As Men seek Towns when Foes the Country burn If ought can teach us ought Affliction 's Looks Making us pry into our selves so near Teach us to know our selves beyond all Books Or all the learned Schools that ever were This Mistress lately pluck'd me by the Ear And many a Golden Lesson hath me taught Hath made my Senses quick and Reason clear Reform'd my Will and rectify'd my Thought So do the Winds and Thunders cleanse the Air So working Seas settle and purge the Wine So lopp'd and pruned Trees do flourish fair So doth the Fire the drossy Gold refine Neither Minerva nor the learned Muse Nor Rules of Art nor Precepts of the Wise Could in my Brain those Beams of Skill infuse As but ' the glance of this Dame's angry Eyes She within Lists my ranging Mind hath brought That now beyond my self I will not go My self am Centre of my circling Thought Only my self I study learn and know I know my Body 's of so frail a kind As Force without Fevers within can kill I know the heavenly Nature of my Mind But t is corrupted both in Wit and Will I know my Soul hath power to know all things Yet is she blind and ignorant in All I know I 'm one of Nature's little Kings Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall I know my Life 's a Pain and but a Span I know my Sense is mock'd in ev'ry thing And to conclude I know my self a Man Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing OF THE Original Nature and Immortality OF THE SOUL THE Lights of Heav'n which are the World 's fair Eyes Look down into the World the World to see And as they turn or wander in the Skies Survey all things that on the Centre be And yet the Lights which in my Tower do shine Mine Eyes which view all Objects nigh and far Look not into this little World of mine Nor see my Face wherein they fixed are Since Nature fails us in no needful thing Why want I Means my inward Self to see Which Sight the Knowledge of my self might bring Which to true Wisdom is the first Degree That Pow'r which gave me Eyes the World to view To view my self infus'd an inward Light Whereby my Soul as by a Mirror true Of her own Form may take a perfect Sight But as the sharpest Eye discerneth nought Except the Sun-beams in the Air do shine So the best Soul with her reflecting Thought Sees not her self without some Light Divine O Light which mak'st the Light which makes the Day Which sett'st the Eye without and Mind within Lighten my Spirit with one clear heavenly Ray Which now to view it Self doth first begin For her true Form how can my Spark discern Which dim by Nature Art did never clear When the great Wits from whom all Skill we learn Are ignorant both what she is and where One thinks the Soul is Air another Fire Another Blood diffus'd about the Heart Another saith the Elements conspire And to her Essence Each doth give a part Musicians think our Souls are Harmonies Physicians hold that they Complexion 's be Epicures make them Swarms of Atomies Which do by chance into our Bodies flee Some think one gen'ral Soul fill's ev'ry Brain As the bright Sun sheds Light in ev'ry Star And others think
err And ev'n against their false Reports decrees And oft she doth condemn what they prefer For with a Pow'r above the Sense she sees Therefore no Sense the precious Joys conceives Which in her private Contemplations be For then the ravish'd Spirit th' Senses leaves Hath her own Pow'rs and proper Actions free Her Harmonies are sweet and full of Skill When on the Body's Instruments she plays But the Proportions of the Wit and Will Those sweet Accords are even th' Angels Lays These Tunes of Reason are Amphion's Lyre Wherewith he did the Thebane City found These are the Notes wherewith the Heavenly Choir The Praise of him which made the Heav'n doth sound Then her self-being Nature shines in This That she performs her noblest Works alone The Work the Touch-Stone of the Nature is And by their Operations Things are known SECT II. That the Soul is more than a Perfection or Reflection of the Sense ARE they not senseless then that think the Soul Nought but a fine Perfection of the Sense Or of the Forms which Fancy doth inrol A quick Resulting and a Consequence What is it then that doth the Sense accuse Both of false Judgment and fond Appetites What makes us do what Sense doth most refuse Which oft in Torment of the Sense delights Sense thinks the Planets Spheres not much asunder What tells us then their Distance is so far Sense thinks the Lightning born before the Thunder What tells us then they both together are When Men seem Crows far off upon a Tow'r Sense saith they 're Crows What makes us think them Men When we in Agues think all sweet things sowre What makes us know our Tongue 's false Judgment then What Pow'r was that whereby Medea saw And well approv'd and prais'd the better Course When her rebellious Sense did so withdraw Her feeble Pow'rs that she pursu'd the worse Did Sense perswade Vlysses not to hear The Mermaid's Songs which so his Men did please That they were all perswaded through the Ear To quit the Ship and leap into the Seas Could any Pow'r of Sense the Roman move To burn his own Right Hand with Courage stout Could Sense make Marius sit unbound and prove The cruel Lancing of the knotty Gout Doubtless in Man there is a Nature found Beside the Senses and above them far Though most Men being in sensual Pleasures drown'd It seems their Souls but in their Senses are If we had nought but Sense then only they Should have sound Minds which have their Senses sound But Wisdom grows when Senses do decay And Folly most in quickest Sense is found If we had nought but Sense each living Wight Which we call Brute would be more sharp than we As having Sense's apprehensive Might In a more clear and excellent Degree But they do want that quick discoursing Pow'r Which doth in us the erring Sense correct Therefore the Bee did suck the painted Flow'r And Birds of Grapes the cunning Shadow peck'd Sense outsides knows the Soul through all things sees Sense Circumstance She doth the Substance view Sense sees the Bark but she the Life of Trees Sense hears the Sounds but she the Concords true But why do I the Soul and Sense divide When Sense is but a Pow'r which she extends Which being in divers parts diversify'd The divers Forms of Objects apprehends This Power spreads outward but the Root doth grow In th' inward Soul which only doth perceive For th' Eyes and Ears no more their Objects know Than Glasses know what Faces they receive For if we chance to fix our Thoughts elsewhere Though our Eyes open be we cannot see And if one Pow'r did not both see and hear Our Sights and Sounds would always double be Then is the Soul a Nature which contains The Pow'r of Sense within a greater Pow'r Which doth employ and use the Sense's Pains But sits and Rules within her private Bow'r SECT III. That the Soul is more than the Temperature of the Humours of the Body IF she doth then the subtile Sense excel How gross are they that drown her in the Blood Or in the Body's Humours temper'd well As if in them such high Perfection stood As if most Skill in that Musician were Which had the best and best tun'd Instrument As if the Pensil neat and Colours clear Had Pow'r to make the Painter excellent Why doth not Beauty then resine the Wit And good Complexion rectify the Will Why doth not Health bring Wisdom still with it Why doth not Sickness make Men brutish still Who can in Memory or Wit or Will Or Air or Fire or Earth or Water find What Alchymist can draw with all his Skill The Quintessence of these out of the Mind If th' Elements which have nor Life nor Sense Can breed in us so great a Pow'r as this Why give they not themselves like Excellence Or other things wherein their Mixture is If she were but the Body's Quality Then would she be with it sick maim'd and blind But we perceive where these Privations be An healthy perfect and sharp sighted Mind If she the Body's Nature did partake Her Strength would with the Body's Strength decay But when the Body's strongest Sinews slake Then is the Soul most active quick and gay If she were but the Body's Accident And her sole Being did in it subsist As White in Snow she might her self absent And in the Body's Substance not be miss'd But it on her not she on it depends For she the Body doth sustain and cherish Such secret Pow'rs of Life to it she lends That when they fail then doth the Body perish Since then the Soul works by her self alone Springs not from Sense nor Humours well agreeing Her Nature is peculiar and her own She is a Substance and a perfect Being SECT IV. That the Soul is a Spirit BVT though this Substance be the Root of Sense Sense knows her not which doth but Bodies know She is a Spirit and Heav'nly Influence Which from the Fountain of God's Spirit doth flow She is a Spirit yet not like Air or Wind Nor like the Spirits about the Heart or Brain Nor like those Spirits which Alchymists do find When they in ev'ry thing seek Gold in vain For she all Natures under Heav'n doth pass Being like those Spirits which God's bright Face do see Or like Himself whose Image once she was Though now alas she scarce his Shadow be For of all Forms she holds the first Degree That are to gross material Bodies knit Yet she her self is bodyless and free And though confin'd is almost infinite Were she a Body how could she remain Within this Body which is less than she Or how could she the World 's great Shape contain And in our narrow Breasts contained be All Bodies are confin'd within some place But she all Place within her self confines All Bodies have their Measure and their Space But who can draw the Soul 's dimensive Lines No Body can at once two Forms admit
Except the one the other do deface But in the Soul ten thousand Forms do sit And none intrudes into her Neighbour's Place All Bodies are with other Bodies fill'd But she receives both Heav'n and Earth together Nor are their Forms by rash Encounter spill'd For there they stand and neither toucheth either Nor can her wide Embracements filled be For they that most and greatest things embrace Enlarge thereby their Mind's Capacity As Streams enlarg'd enlarge the Channel 's Space All things receiv'd do such Proportion take As those things have wherein they are receiv'd So little Glasses little Faces make And narrow Webs on narrow Frames are weav'd Then what vast Body must we make the Mind Wherein are Men Beasts Trees Towns Seas and Lands And yet each thing a proper Place doth find And each thing in the true Proportion stands Doubtless this could not be but that she turns Bodies to Spirits by Sublimation strange As Fire converts to Fire the things it burns As we our Meats into our Nature change From their gross Matter she abstracts the Forms And draws a kind of Quintessence from things Which to her proper Nature she transforms To bear them light on her Celestial Wings This doth she when from things particular She doth abstract the universal Kinds Which bodyless and immaterial are And can be only lodg'd within our Minds And thus from divers Accidents and Acts Which do within her Observation fall She Goddesses and Pow'rs divine abstracts As Nature Fortune and the Vertues all Again How can she sev'ral Bodies know If in her self a Body's Form she bear How can a Mirror sundry Faces show If from all Shapes and Forms it be not clear Nor could we by our Eyes all Colours learn Except our Eyes were of all Colours void Nor sundry Tastes can any Tongue discern Which is with gross and bitter Humours cloy'd Nor can a Man of Passions judge aright Except his Mind be from all Passions free Nor can a Judge his Office well acquit If he possess'd of either Party be If lastly this quick Pow'r a Body were Were it as swift as is the Wind or Fire Whose Atoms do the One down side-ways bear And th' Other make in Pyramids aspire Her nimble Body yet in time must move And not in Instants through all places slide But she is nigh and far beneath above In point of Time which Thought cannot divide She 's sent as soon to China as to Spain And thence returns as soon as she is sent She measures with one Time and with one Pain An Ell of Silk and Heav'ns wide-spreading Tent. As then the Soul a Substance hath alone Besides the Body in which she is confin'd So hath she not a Body of her own But is a Spirit and immaterial Mind Since Body and Soul have such Diversities Well might we muse how first their Match began But that we learn that He that spread the Skies And fix'd the Earth first form'd the Soul in Man This true Prometheus first made Man of Earth And shed in him a Beam of Heav'nly Fire Now in their Mother's Wombs before their Birth Doth in all Sons of Men their Souls inspire And as Minerva is in Fables said From Jove without a Mother to proceed So our true Jove without a Mother's Aid Doth daily Millions of Minerva's breed SECT V. Erroneous Opinions of the Creation of Souls THen neither from Eternity before Nor from the Time when Time 's first Point begun Made he all Souls which now he keeps in store Some in the Moon and others in the Sun Nor in a secret Cloyster doth he keep These Virgin-Spirits until their Marriage-day Nor locks them up in Chambers where they sleep Till they awake within these Beds of Clay Nor did he first a certain Number make Infusing part in Beasts and part in Men And as unwilling further Pains to take Would make no more than those he framed then So that the Widow Soul her Body dying Unto the next-born Body married was And so by often changing and supplying Mens Souls to Beasts and Beasts to Men did pass These Thoughts are fond for since the Bodies born Be more in number far than those that die Thousands must be abortive and forlorn E're others Deaths to them their Souls supply But as God's Handmaid Nature doth create Bodies in time distinct and Order due So God gives Souls the like successive Date Which Himself makes in Bodies formed new Which Himself makes of no material thing For unto Angels he no Pow'r hath giv'n Either to form the Shape or Stuff to bring From Air or Fire or Substance of the Heav'n Nor herein doth he Nature's Service use For though from Bodies she can Bodies bring Yet could she never Souls from Souls traduce As Fire from Fire or Light from Light doth spring SECT VI. That the Soul is not ex Traduce ALas that some who were great Lights of old And in their Hands the Lamp of God did bear Some Rev'rend Fathers did this Error hold Having their Eyes dimm'd with religious Fear Objection For when say they by Rule of Faith we find That ev'ry Soul unto her Body knit Brings from the Mother's Womb the Sin of kind The Root of all the Ill she doth commit How can we say that God the Soul doth make But we must make him Author of her Sin Then from Man's Soul she doth Beginning take Since in Man's Soul Corruption did begin For if God make her first he makes her ill Which God forbid our Thoughts should yield unto Or makes the Body her fair Form to spill Which of it self it had not Pow'r to do Not Adam's Body but his Soul did sin And so her self unto Corruption brought But our poor Soul corrupted is within Er'e she had sinn'd either in Act or Thought And yet we see in her such Pow'rs Divine As we could gladly think from God she came Fain would we make him Author of the Wine If for the Dregs we could some other blame Answer Thus these good Men with holy Zeal were blind When on the other part the Truth did shine Whereof we do clear Demonstrations find By Light of Nature and by Light Divine None are so gross as to contend for this That Souls from Bodies may traduced be Between whose Natures no Proportion is When Root and Branch in Nature still agree But many subtile Wits have justify'd That Souls from Souls spiritually may spring Which if the Nature of the Soul be try'd Will ev'n in Nature prove as gross a thing SECT VII Reasons drawn from Nature FOR all things made are either made of nought Or made of Stuff that ready made doth stand Of nought no Creature ever formed ought For that is proper to th' Almighty's Hand If then the Soul another Soul do make Because her Pow'r is kept within a Bound She must some former Stuff or Matter take But in the Soul there is no Matter found Then if her heav'nly Form do not agree With any Matter
And are astonish'd when they view the same Nor hath he giv'n these Blessings for a Day Nor made them on the Body's Life depend The Soul though made in Time survives for ay And though it hath Beginning sees no End SECT XXX That the Soul is Immortal proved by several Reasons HER only End is Never ending Bliss Which is the Eternal Face of GOD to see Who Last of Ends and First of Causes is And to do this she must Eternal be How senseless then and dead a Soul hath he Which thinks his Soul doth with his Body dye Or thinks not so but so would have it be That he might Sin with more Security For though these light and vicious Persons say Our Soul is but a Smoak or airy Blast Which during Life doth in our Nostrils play And when we die doth turn to Wind at last Although they say Come let us eat and drink Our Life is but a Spark which quickly dies Though thus they say they know not what to think But in their Minds ten thousand Doubts arise Therefore no Hereticks desire to spread Their light Opinions like these Epicures For so their stagg'ring Thoughts are comforted And other Men's Assent their Doubt assures Yet though these Men against their Conscience strive There are some Sparkles in their flinty Breasts Which cannot be extinct but still revive That though they would they cannot quite be Beasts But whoso makes a Mirror of his Mind And doth with Patience view himself therein His Soul's Eternity shall clearly find Though th' other Beauties be defac'd with Sin 1. Reason First in Man's Mind we find an Appetite To learn and know the Truth of ev'ry thing Which is co-natural and born with it And from the Essence of the Soul doth spring With this Desire she hath a native Might To find out ev'ry Truth if she had time Th' innumerable Effects to sort aright And by Degrees from Cause to Cause to climb But since our Life so fast away doth slide As doth an hungry Eagle through the Wind Or as a Ship transported with the Tide Which in their Passage leave no print behind Of which swift little Time so much we spend While some few things we through the Sense do strain That our short Race of Life is at an end E're we the Principles of Skill attain Or God who to vain Ends hath nothing done In vain this Appetite and Pow'r hath giv'n Or else our Knowledge which is here begun Hereafter must be perfected in Heav'n God never gave a Pow'r to one whole Kind But most part of that Kind did use the same Most Eyes have perfect Sight though some be blind Most Legs can nimbly run though some be lame But in this Life no Soul the Truth can know So perfecty as it hath Pow'r to do If then Perfection be not found below An higher place must make her mount thereto 2. Reason Again How can she but Immortal be When with the Motions of both Will and Wit She still aspireth to Eternity And never rests till she attain to it Water in Conduit-pipes can rise no higher Than the Well-head from whence it first doth spring Then since to Eternal GOD she doth aspire She cannot be but an Eternal Thing All moving things to other things do move Of the same kind which shews their Nature such So Earth falls down and Fire doth mount above Till both their proper Elements do touch And as the Moisture which the thirsty Earth Sucks from the Sea to fill her empty Veins From out her Womb at last doth take a Birth And runs a Nymph along the grassy Plains Long doth she stay as loth to leave the Land From whose soft Side she first did issue make She tasts all Places turns to ev'ry Hand Her flow'ry Banks unwilling to forsake Yet Nature so her Streams doth lead and carry As that her Course doth make no final stay Till she her self unto the Ocean marry Within whose watry Bosom first she lay Ev'n so the Soul which in this Earthly Mould The Spirit of God doth secretly infuse Because at first she doth the Earth behold And only this material World she views At first her Mother Earth she holdeth dear And doth embrace the World and worldly things She flies close by the Ground and hovers here And mounts not up with her Celestial Wings Yet under Heav'n she cannot light on Ought That with her heav'nly Nature doth agree She cannot rest she cannot fix her Thought She cannot is this World contented be For who did ever yet in Honour Wealth Or Pleasure of the Sense Contentment find Who ever ceas'd to wish when he had Health Or having Wisdom was not vex'd in Mind Then as a Bee which among Weeds doth fall Which seem sweet Flow'rs with lustre fresh and gay She lights on that and this and tasteth all But pleas'd with none doth rise and soar away So when the Soul finds here no true Content And like Noah's Dove can no sure Footing take She doth return from whence she first was sent And flies to him that first her Wings did make Wit seeking Truth from Cause to Cause ascends And never rests till it the first attain Will seeking Good finds many middle Ends But never stays till it the last do gain Now GOD the Truth and First of Causes is GOD is the last good End which lasteth still Being Alpha and Omega nam'd for this Alpha to Wit Omega to the Will Since then her heav'nly Kind she doth display In that to GOD she doth directly move And on no mortal thing can make her Stay She cannot be from hence but from above And yet this first true Cause and last good End She cannot here so well and truely see For this Perfection she must yet attend Till to her Maker she espoused be As a King's Daughter being in Person sought Of divers Princes who do neighbour near On none of them can fix a constant Thought Though she to all do lend a gentle Ear Yet can she love a foreign Emperor Whom of great Worth and Pow'r she hears to be If she be woo'd but by Ambassador Or but his Letters or his Pictures see For well she knows that when she shall be brought Into the Kingdom where her Spouse doth reign Her Eyes shall see what she conceiv'd in Thought Himself his State his Glory and his Train So while the Virgin-Soul on Earth doth stay She woo'd and tempted is ten thousand Ways By these great Pow'rs which on the Earth bear sway The Wisdom of the World Wealth Pleasure Praise With these sometimes she doth her Time beguile These do by fits her Fantasie possess But she distastes them all within a while And in the sweetest finds a Tediousness But if upon the World 's Almighty King She once doth fix her humble loving Thought Who by his Picture drawn in ev'ry thing And sacred Messages her Love hath sought Of him she thinks she cannot think too much This Honey tasted still is ever