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A37239 The original, nature, and immortality of the soul a poem : with an introduction concerning humane knowledge / written by Sir John Davies ... ; with a prefatory account concerning the author and poem.; Nosce teipsum Davies, John, Sir, 1569-1626.; Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715. 1697 (1697) Wing D405; ESTC R14959 39,660 143

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the Name of Soul is vain And that we only well mix'd Bodies are In Judgment of her Substance thus they vary And vary thus in Judgment of her Seat For some her Chair up to the Brain do carry Some sink it down into the Stomach's Heat Some place it in the Root of Life the Heart Some in the Liver Fountain of the Veins Some say She 's all in all and all in ev'ry part Some say she 's not contain'd but all contains Thus these great Clerks their little Wisdom show While with their Doctrines they at Hazard play Tossing their light Opinions to and fro To mock the Lewd as learn'd in This as They. For no craz'd Brain could ever yet propound Touching the Soul so vain and fond a Thought But some among these Masters have been found Which in their Schools the self-same thing have taught God only wise to punish Pride of Wit Among Men's Wits hath this Confusion wrought As the proud Tow'r whose Points the Clouds did hit By Tongues Confusion was to ruin brought But Thou which didst Man 's Soul of Nothing make And when to Nothing it was fall'n again To make it new the Form of Man didst take And God with God becam'st a Man with Men. Thou that hast fashion'd twice this Soul of ours So that she is by double Title thine Thou only know'st her Nature and her Pow'rs Her subtile Form thou only canst define To judge her self she must her self transcend As greater Circles comprehend the less But she wants Pow'r her own Pow'rs to extend As fetter'd Men cannot their Strength express But thou bright Morning-Star thou Rising Sun Which in these latter Times hast brought to Light Those Mysteries that since the World begun Lay hid in Darkness and Eternal Night Thou like the Sun dost with an equal Ray Into the Palace and the Cottage shine And shew'st the Soul both to the Clerk and Lay By the clear Lamp of th' Oracle divine This Lamp through all the Regions of my Brain Where my Soul sits doth spread such Beams of Grace As now methinks I do distinguish plain Each subtile Line of her Immortal Face The Soul a Substance and a Spirit is Which God himself doth in the Body make Which makes the Man for every Man from this The Nature of a Man and Name doth take And though this Spirit be to th' Body knit As an apt Means her Pow'rs to exercise Which are Life Motion Sense and Will and Wit Yet she survives although the Body dies SECT I. That the Soul is a Thing subsisting by its self and has proper Operations without the Body SHE is a Substance and a real Thing 1. Which hath its self an actual working Might 2. Which neither from the Senses Power doth spring 3. Nor from the Body's Humours temper'd right She is a Vine which doth no propping need To make her spread her self or spring upright She is a Star whose Beams do not proceed From any Sun but from a Native Light For when she sorts Things present with Things past And thereby Things to come doth oft fore-see When she doth doubt at first and chuse at last These Acts her Own without her Body be When of the Dew which th' Eye and Ear do take From Flow'rs abroad and bring into the Brain She doth within both Wax and Honey make This Work is her's this is her proper Pain When she from sundry Acts one Skill doth draw Gath'ring from divers Fights one Art of War From many Cases like one Rule of Law These her Collections not the Senses are When in th' Effects she doth the Causes know And seeing the Stream thinks where the Spring doth rise And seeing the Branch conceives the Root below These things she views without the Body's Eyes When she without a Pegasus doth fly Swifter than Lightning's Fire from East to West About the Centre and above the Sky She travels then although the Body rest When all her Works she formeth first within Proportions them and sees their perfect End E'er she in Act doth any Part begin What Instruments doth then the Body lend When without Hands she doth thus Castles build Sees without Eyes and without Feet doth run When she digests the World yet is not fill'd By her own Pow'rs these Miracles are done When she defines argues divides compounds Considers Virtue Vice and general Things And marrying divers Principles and Grounds Out of their Match a true Conclusion brings These Actions in her Closet all alone Retir'd within her self she doth fulfil Use of her Body's Organs she hath none When she doth use the Pow'rs of Wit and Will Yet in the Body's Prison so she lies As through the Body's Windows she must look Her divers Powers of Sense to exercise By gath'ring Notes out of the World 's great Book Nor can her self discourse or judge of ought But what the Sense collects and home doth bring And yet the Pow'rs of her discoursing Thought From these Collections is a diverse Thing For though our Eyes can nought but Colours see Yet Colours give them not their Pow'r of Sight So though these Fruits of Sense her Objects be Yet she discerns them by her proper Light The Workman on his Stuff his Skill doth show And yet the Stuff gives not the Man his Skill Kings their Affairs do by their Servants know But order them by their own Royal Will So though this cunning Mistress and this Queen Doth as her Instruments the Senses use To know all things that are felt heard or seen Yet she her self doth only judge and chuse Ev'n as a prudent Emperor that reigns By Sovereign Title over sundry Lands Borrows in mean Affairs his Subjects Pains Sees by their Eyes and writeth by their Hands But Things of weight and consequence indeed Himself doth in his Chamber them debate Where all his Counsellors he doth exceed As far in Judgment as he doth in State Or as the Man whom Princes do advance Upon their gracious Mercy-Seat to sit Doth Common Things of Course and Circumstance To the Reports of common Men commit But when the Cause it self must be decreed Himself in Person in his proper Court To grave and solemn Hearing doth proceed Of ev'ry Proof and ev'ry By-Report Then like God's Angel he pronounceth Right And Milk and Honey from his Tongue doth flow Happy are they that still are in his sight To reap the Wisdom which his Lips do sow Right so the Soul which is a Lady free And doth the Justice of her State maintain Because the Senses ready Servants be Attending nigh about her Court the Brain By them the Forms of outward Things she learns For they return into the Fantasie Whatever each of them abroad discerns And there inrol it for the Mind to see But when she sits to judge the Good and Ill And to discern betwixt the False and True She is not guided by the Senses Skill But doth each thing in her own Mirror view Then she the Senses checks which oft do
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
declining Proneness unto Nought Is ev'n that Sin that we are born withal Yet not alone the first good Qualities Which in the first Soul were deprived are But in their place the contrary do rise And real Spots of Sin her Beauty marr Nor is it strange that Adam's ill Desert Should be transferr'd unto his guilty Race When Christ his Grace and Justice doth impart To Men unjust and such as have no Grace Lastly The Soul were better so to be Born Slave to Sin than not to be at all Since if she do believe one sets her free That makes her mount the higher for her Fall Yet this the curious Wits will not content They yet will know since God foresaw this Ill Why his high Providence did not prevent The Declination of the first Man's Will If by his Word he had the Current stay'd Of Adam's Will which was by Nature free It had been One as if his Word had said I will henceforth that Man no Man shall be For what is Man without a moving Mind Which hath a judging Wit and chusing Will Now if God's Pow'r should her Election bind Her Motions then would cease and stand all still And why did God in Man this Soul infuse But that he should his Maker know and love Now if Love be compell'd and cannot chuse How can it grateful or thank-worthy prove Love must free-hearted be and voluntary And not inchanted or by Fate constrain'd Nor like that Love which did Vlysses carry To Circe's Isle with mighty Charms enchain'd Besides Were we unchangeable in Will And of a Wit that nothing could mis deem Equal to God whose Wisdom shineth still And never errs we might our selves esteem So that if Man would be unvariable He must be God or like a Rock or Tree For ev'n the perfect Angels were not stable But had a Fall more desperate than we Then let us praise that Pow'r which makes us be Men as we are and rest contented so And knowing Man's Fall was Curiosity Admire God's Counsels which we cannot know And let us know that God the Maker is Of all the Souls in all the Men that be Yet their Corruption is no Fault of his But the first Man's that broke God's first Decree SECT IX Why the Soul is united to the Body THis Substance and this Spirit of God's own making Is in the Body plac'd and planted here That both of God and of the World partaking Of all that is Man might the Image bear God first made Angels bodiless pure Minds Then other things which mindless Bodies be Last he made Man th' Horizon 'twixt both Kinds In whom we do the World's Abridgment see Besides this World below did need one Wight Which might thereof distinguish ev'ry part Make use thereof and take therein delight And order things with Industry and Art Which also God might in his Works admire And here beneath yield him both Pray'r and Praise As there above the holy Angels Choir Doth spread his Glory forth with spiritual Lays Lastly The brute unreasonable Wights Did want a visible King o're them to reign And God himself thus to the World unites That so the World might endless Bliss obtain SECT X. In what Manner the Soul is united to the Body BVT how shall we this Vnion well express Nought ties the Soul her Subtilty is such She moves the Body which she doth possess Yet no part toucheth but by Virtue 's Touch. Then dwells she not therein as in a Tent Nor as a Pilot in his Ship doth sit Nor as the Spider in his Web is pent Nor as the Wax retains the Print in it Nor as a Vessel Water doth contain Nor as one Liquor in another shed Nor as the Heat doth in the Fire remain Nor as a Voice throughout the Air is spread But as the fair and chearful Morning Light Doth here and there her Silver-Beams impart And in an Instant doth her self unite To the transparent Air in all and ev'ry part Still resting whole when Blows the Air divide Abiding pure when th' Air is most corrupted Throughout th' Air her Beams dispersing wide And when the Air is toss'd not interrupted So doth the piercing Soul the Body fill Being all in all and all in part diffus'd Indivisible incorruptible still Not forc'd encounter'd troubled or confus'd And as the Sun above the Light doth bring Though we behold it in the Air below So from th' Eternal Light the Soul doth spring Though in the Body she her Pow'rs do show SECT XI How the Soul exercises her Powers in the Body BVT as the World's Sun doth Effects beget Diff'rent in divers places ev'ry Day Here Autumn's Temperature there Summer's Heat Here flow'ry Spring-tide and there Winter-Gray Here Ev'n there Morn here Noon there Day there Night Melts Wax dries Clay makes Flow'rs some quick some dead Makes the Moor black the European white Th' American tawny and th' East-Indian red So in our little World this Soul of ours Being only one and to one Body ty'd Doth use on divers Objects divers Powers And so are her Effects diversify'd SECT XII The Vegetative Power of the Soul HER quick'ning Power in ev'ry living part Doth as a Nurse or as a Mother serve And doth employ her Oeconomick Art And buisy Care her Houshold to preserve Here she attracts and there she doth retain There she decocts and doth the Food prepare There she distributes it to ev'ry Vein There she expels what she may fitly spare This Pow'r to Martha may compared be Who buisy was the Houshold-things to do Or to a Dryas living in a Tree For ev'n to Trees this Pow'r is proper too And though the Soul may not this Pow'r extend Out of the Body but still use it there She hath a Pow'r which she abroad doth send Which views and searcheth all things ev'ry where SECT XIII The Power of Sense THis Pow'r is Sense which from abroad doth bring The Colour Taste and Touch and Scent and Sound The Quantity and Shape of ev'ry thing Within Earth's Centre or Heav'n's Circle found This Pow'r in Parts made fit fit Objects takes Yet not the Things but Forms of Things receives As when a Seal in Wax Impression makes The Print therein but not it self it leaves And though things sensible be numberless But only Five the Sense's Organs be And in those Five all things their Forms express Which we can touch taste feel or hear or see These are the Windows through the which she views The Light of Knowledge which is Life's Load-Star And yet while she these Spectacles doth use Oft worldly Things seem greater than they are SECT XIV Seeing FIrst The two Eyes which have the Seeing Pow'r Stand as one Watchman Spy or Sentinel Being plac'd aloft within the Head 's high Tow'r And though both see yet both but one thing tell These Mirrors take into their little Space The Forms of Moon and Sun and ev'ry Star Of ev'ry body and of ev'ry place Which with the World 's
wide Arms embraced are Yet their best Object and their noblest Use Hereafter in another World will be When God in them shall heav'nly Light infuse That Face to Face they may their Maker see Here are they Guides which do the Body lead Which else would stumble in Eternal Night Here in this World they do much Knowledge read And are the Casements which admit most Light They are her farthest reaching Instrument Yet they no Beams unto their Objects send But all the Rays are from their Objects sent And in the Eyes with pointed Angles end If th' Objects be far off the Rays do meet In a sharp Point and so things seem but small If they be near their Rays do spread and fleet And make broad Points that things seem great withal Lastly Nine things to Sight required are The Pow'r to see the Light the visible thing Being not too small too thin too nigh too far Clear Space and Time the Form distinct to bring Thus see we how the Soul doth use the Eyes As Instruments of her quick Pow'r of Sight Hence doth th' Arts Optick and fair Painting rise Painting which doth all gentle Minds delight SECT XV. Hearing NOW let us hear how she the Ears employs Their Office is the troubled Air to take Which in their Mazes forms a Sound or Noise Whereof her self doth true Distinction make These Wickets of the Soul are plac'd on high Because all Sounds do lightly mount aloft And that they may not pierce too violently They are delay'd with Turns and Windings oft For should the Voice directly strike the Brain It would astonish and confuse it much Therefore these Plaits and Folds the Sound restrain That it the Organ may more gently touch As Streams which with their winding Banks do play Stopp'd by their Creeks run softly through the Plain So in th' Ear 's Labyrinth the Voice doth stray And doth with easy Motion touch the Brain This is the slowest yet the daintiest Sense For ev'n the Ears of such as have no Skill Perceive a Discord and conceive Offence And knowing not what 's good yet find the Ill. And though this Sense first gentle Musick found Her proper Object is the Speech of Men But that Speech chiefly which God's Harolds Sound When their Tongues utter what his Spirit did pen. Our Eyes have Lids our Ears still ope we see Quickly to hear how ev'ry Tale is prov'd Our Eyes still move our Ears unmoved be That though we hear quick we be not quickly mov'd Thus by the Organs of the Eye and Ear The Soul with Knowledge doth her self endue Thus she her Prison may with Pleasure bear Having such Prospects all the World to view These Conduit-pipes of Knowledge feed the Mind But th' other three attend the Body still For by their Services the Soul doth find What things are to the Body good or ill SECT XVI Taste THE Body's Life with Meats and Air is fed Therefore the Soul doth use the Tasting Pow'r In Veins which through the Tongue and Palate spread Distinguish ev'ry Relish Sweet and Sow'r This is the Body's Nurse but since Man's Wit Found th' Art of Cook'ry to delight his Sense More Bodies are consum'd and kill'd with it Than with the Sword Famine or Pestilence SECT XVII Smelling NExt In the Nostrils she doth use the Smell As God the Breath of Life in them did give So makes he now this Pow'r in them to dwell To judge all Airs whereby we breath and live This Sense is also Mistress of an Art Which to soft People sweet Perfumes doth sell Though this dear Art doth little Good impart Since They smell best that do of nothing smell And yet good Scents do purify the Brain Awake the Fancy and the Wits refine Hence old Devotion Incense did ordain To make Men's Spirits more apt for Thoughts Divine SECT XVIII Feeling LAstly The Feeling Pow'r which is Life's Root Through ev'ry living Part it self doth shed By Sinews which extend from Head to Foot And like a Net all o'er the Body spread Much like a subtile Spider which doth sit In middle of her Web which spreadeth wide If ought do touch the utmost Thread of it She feels it instantly on ev'ry side By Touch the first pure Qualities we learn Which quicken all things hot cold moist and dry By Touch hard soft rough smooth we do discern By Touch sweet Pleasure and sharp Pain we try SECT XIX Of the Imagination or Common Sense THese are the outward Instruments of Sense These are the Guards which ev'ry thing must pass E'er it approach the Mind's Intelligence Or touch the Fantasy Wit 's Looking-Glass And yet these Porters which all things admit Themselves perceive not nor discern the things One common Pow'r doth in the Forehead sit Which all their proper Forms together brings For all those Nerves which Spirits of Sense do bear And to those outward Organs spreading go United are as in a Centre there And there this Pow'r those sundry Forms doth know Those outward Organs present things receive This inward Sense doth absent things retain Yet strait transmits all Forms she doth perceive Unto an higher Region of the Brain SECT XX. Fantasy WHere Fantasy near Hand maid to the Mind Sits and beholds and doth discern them all Compounds in one things diff'rent in their Kind Compares the Black and White the Great and Small Besides those single Forms she doth esteem And in her Ballance doth their Values try Wheresome things good and some things ill do seem And Neutral some in her fantastick Eye This buisy Pow'r is working Day and Night For when the outward Senses Rest do take A thousand Dreams fantastical and light With flutt'ring Wings do keep her still awake SECT XXI Sensitive Memory YET always all may not afore her be Successively she this and that intends Therefore such Forms as she doth cease to see To Memory's large Volume she commends This Ledger-Book lies in the Brain behind Like Janus Eye which in his Poll was set The Lay-man's Tables Store-house of the Mind Which doth remember much and much forget Here Sense's Apprehension End doth take As when a Stone is into Water cast One Circle doth another Circle make Till the last Circle touch the Bank at last SECT XXII The Passion of the Sense BUT though the Apprehensive Pow'r do pause The Motive Vertue then begins to move Which in the Heart below doth Passions cause Joy Grief and Fear and Hope and Hate and Love These Passions have a free commanding Might And divers Actions in our Life do breed For all Acts done without true Reason's Light Do from the Passion of the Sense proceed But since the Brain doth lodge the Pow'rs of Sense How makes it in the Heart those Passions spring The mutual Love the kind Intelligence 'Twixt Heart and Brain this Sympathy doth bring From the kind Heat which in the Heart doth reign The Spirits of Life do their Beginning take These Spirits of Life ascending to the Brain When they
come there the Spirits of Sense do make These Spirits of Sense in Fantasy's high Court Judge of the Forms of Objects ill or well And so they send a good or ill Report Down to the Heart where all Affections dwell If the Report be good it causeth Love And longing Hope and well assured Joy If it be ill then doth it Hatred move And trembling Fear and vexing Griefs annoy Yet were these natural Affections good For they which want them Blocks or Devils be If Reason in her first Perfection stood That she might Nature's Passions rectify SECT XXIII Local Motion BEsides another Motive-Power doth arise Out of the Heart from whose pure Blood do spring The Vital Spirits which born in Arteries Continual Motion to all Parts do bring This makes the Pulses beat and Lungs respire This holds the Sinews like a Bridle 's Reins And makes the Body to advance retire To turn or stop as she them slacks or strains Thus the Soul tunes the Body's Instruments These Harmonies she makes with Life and Sense The Organs fit are by the Body lent But th' Actions flow from the Soul's Influence SECT XXIV The Intellectual Powers of the Soul BVT now I have a Will yet want a Wit T' express the working of the Wit and Will Which though their Root be to the Body knit Use not the Body when they use their Skill These Pow'rs the Nature of the Soul declare For to Man's Soul these only proper be For on the Earth no other Wights there are That have these Heav'nly Pow'rs but only we SECT XXV Wit Reason Understanding Opinion Judgment Wisdom THE Wit the Pupil of the Soul 's clear Eye And in Man's World the only shining Star Look in the Mirror of the Fantasy Where all the Gath'rings of the Senses are From thence this Pow'r the Shapes of things abstracts And them within her Passive Part receives Which are enlightned by that part which Acts And so the Forms of single things perceives But after by discoursing to and fro Anticipating and comparing things She doth all Vniversal Natures know And all Effects into their Causes brings When she rates things and moves from Ground to Ground The Name of Reason she obtains by this But when by Reason she the Truth hath found And standeth fix'd she Vnderstanding is When her Assent she lightly doth incline To either part she his Opinion's Light But when she doth by Principles define A certain Truth she hath true Judgment 's Sight And as from Senses Reason's Work doth spring So many Reasons Vnderstanding gain And many Vnderstandings Knowledge bring And by much Knowledge Wisdom we obtain So many Stairs we must ascend upright E're we attain to Wisdom's high Degree So doth this Earth eclipse our Reason's Light Which else in Instants would like Angels see SECT XXVI Innate Ideas in the Soul YEt hath the Soul a Dowry natural And Sparks of Light some common things to see Not being a Blank where Nought is writ at all But what the Writer will may written be For Nature in Man's Heart her Laws doth pen Prescribing Truth to Wit and Good to Will Which do accuse or else excuse all Men For ev'ry Thought or Practice good or ill And yet these Sparks grow almost infinite Making the World and all therein their Food As Fire so spreads as no place holdeth it Being nourish'd still with new Supplies of Wood. And though these Sparks were almost quench'd with Sin Yet they whom that just One hath justify'd Have them increas'd with heav'nly Light within And like the Widow's Oil still multiply'd SECT XXVII The Power of Will and Relation between the Wit and Will AND as this Wit should Goodness truly know We have a Will which that true Good should chuse Tho Will do oft when Wit false Forms doth show Take Ill for Good and Good for Ill refuse Will puts in practice what the Wit deviseth Will ever acts and Wit contemplates still And as from Wit the Pow'r of Wisdom riseth All other Virtues Daughters are of Will Will is the Prince and Wit the Counsellor Which doth for common Good in Council sit And when Wit is resolv'd Will lends her Power To execute what is advis'd by Wit Wit is the Mind 's chief Judge which doth controul Of Fancy's Court the Judgments false and vain Will holds the Royal Scepter in the Soul And on the Passions of the Heart doth reign Will is as free as any Emperor Nought can restrain her gentle-Liberty No Tyrant nor no Torment hath the pow'r To make us will when we unwilling be SECT XXVIII The Intellectual Memory TO these high Pow'rs a Store-house doth pertain Where they all Arts and gen'ral Reasons lay Which in the Soul ev'n after Death remain And no Lethaean Flood can wash away SECT XXIX The Dependency of the Soul's Faculties upon each Other THis is the Soul and these her Virtues be Which though they have their sundry proper Ends And one exceeds another in Degree Yet each on other mutually depends Our Wit is giv'n Almighty God to know Our Will is giv'n to love him being known But God could not be known to us below But by his Works which through the Sense are shown And as the Wit doth reap the Fruits of Sense So doth the quick'ning Pow'r the Senses feed Thus while they do their sundry Gifts dispence The Best the Service of the Least doth need Ev'n so the King his Magistrates do serve Yet Commons feed both Magistrates and King The Common's Peace the Magistrates preserve By borrow'd Pow'r which from the Prince doth spring The Quick'ning Power would be and so would rest The Sense would not be only but be well But Wit 's Ambition longeth to the best For it desires in endless Bliss to dwell And these three Pow'rs three sorts of Men do make For some like Plants their Veins do only fill And some like Beasts their Senses pleasure take And some like Angels do contemplate still Therefore the Fables turn'd some Men to Flow'rs And others did with brutish Forms invest And did of others make Celestial Pow'rs Like Angels which still travel yet still rest Yet these three Pow'rs are not three Souls but one As One and Two are both contain'd in Three Three being one Number by it self alone A Shadow of the blessed Trinity Oh! What is Man great Maker of Mankind That thou to him so great Respect dost bear That thou adorn'st him with so bright a Mind Mak'st him a King and ev'n an Angel's Peer Oh! What a lively Life what heav'nly Pow'r What spreading Virtue what a sparkling Fire How great how plentiful how rich a Dow'r Dost thou within this dying Flesh inspire Thou leav'st thy Print in other Works of thine But thy whole Image thou in Man hast writ There cannot be a Creature more divine Except like thee it should be infinite But it exceeds Man's Thought to think how high God hath rais'd Man since God a Man became The Angels do admire this Mystery
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
sweet The Pleasure of her ravish'd Thought is such As almost here she with her Bliss doth meet But when in Heav'n she shall his Essence see This is her sov'reign Good and perfect Bliss Her Longing Wishings Hopes all finish'd be Her Joys are full her Motions rest in this There is she crown'd with Garlands of Content There doth she Manna eat and Nectar drink That Presence doth such high Delights present As never Tongue could speak nor Heart could think 3. Reason For this the better Souls do oft despise The Body's Death and do it oft desire For when on Ground the burthen'd Ballance lies The empty part is lifted up the higher But if the Body's Death the Soul should kill Then Death must needs against her Nature be And were it so all Souls would fly it still For Nature hates and shuns her Contrary For all things else which Nature makes to be Their Being to preserve are chiefly taught And though some things desire a Change to see Yet never Thing did long to turn to nought If then by Death the Soul were quenched quite She could not thus against her Nature run Since ev'ry sensless thing by Nature's Light Doth Preservation seek Destruction shun Nor could the World's best Spirits so much err If Death took all that they should all agree Before this Life their Honour to prefer For what is Praise to things that nothing be Again If by the Body's Prop she stand If on the Body's Life her Life depend As Meleagers on the fatal Brand The Body's Good she only would intend We should not find her half so brave and bold To lead it to the Wars and to the Seas To make it suffer Watchings Hunger Cold When it might feed with Plenty rest with Ease Doubtless all Souls have a surviving Thought Therefore of Death we think with quiet Mind But if we think of being turn'd to nought A trembling Horrour in our Souls we find 4. Reason And as the better Spirit when she doth bear A Scorn of Death doth shew she cannot die So when the wicked Soul Death's Face doth fear Ev'n then she proves her own Eternity For when Death's Form appears she feareth not An utter Quenching or Extinguishment She would be glad to meet with such a Lot That so she might all future Ill prevent But she doth doubt what after may befal For Nature's Law accuseth her within And saith 'T is true what is affirm'd by all That after Death there is a Pain for Sin Then she who hath been hood wink'd from he Birth Doth first her self within Death's Mirrour see And when her Body doth return to Earth She first takes care how she alone shall be Who ever sees these irreligious Men With Burthen of a Sickness weak and faint But hears them talking of Religion then And vowing of their Souls to ev'ry Saint When was there ever cursed Atheist brought Unto the Gibbet but he did adore That blessed Pow'r which he had set at nought Scorn'd and blasphemed all his Life before These light vain Persons still are drunk and mad With Surfeitings and Pleasures of their Youth But at their Death they are fresh sober sad Then they discern and then they speak the truth If then all Souls both good and bad do teach With gen'ral Voice That Souls can never die 'T is not Man's flatt'ring Gloss but Nature's Speech Which like GOD's Oracles can never lye 5. Reason Hence springs that universal strong Desire Which all Men have of Immortality Not some few Spirits unto this Thought aspire But all Men's Minds in this united be Then this Desire of Nature is not vain She covets not Impossibilities Fond Thoughts may fall into some idle Brain But one Assent of all is ever wise From hence that gen'ral Care and Study springs That Launching and Progression of the Mind Which all Men have so much of future things That they no Joy do in the present find From this Desire that main Desire proceeds Which all Men have surviving Fame to gain By Tombs by Books by memorable Deeds For she that this desires doth still remain Hence lastly springs Care of Posterities For Things their Kind would everlasting make Hence is it that old Men do plant young Trees The Fruit whereof another Age shall take If we these Rules unto our selves apply And view them by Reflection of the Mind All these true Notes of Immortality In our Heart's Tables we shall written find 6. Reason And though some impious Wits do Questions move And doubt if Souls immortal be or no That Doubt their Immortality doth prove Because they seem immortal things to know For he who Reasons on both Parts doth bring Doth some things mortal some immortal call Now if himself were but a mortal thing He could not judge immortal things at all For when we judge our Minds we Mirrors make And as those Glasses which material be Forms of material things do only take For Thoughts or Minds in them we cannot see So when we God and Angels do conceive And think of Truth which is eternal too Then do our Minds immortal Forms receive Which if they mortal were they could not do And as if Beasts conceiv'd what Reason were And that Conception should distinctly show They should the Name of Reasonable bear For without Reason none could Reason know So when the Soul mounts with so high a Wing As of Eternal Things she Doubts can move She Proofs of her Eternity doth bring Ev'n when she strives the contrary to prove For ev'n the Thought of Immortality Being an Act done without the Body's Aid Shews that her self alone could move and be Although the Body in the Grave were laid SECT XXXI That the Soul cannot be destroy'd AND if her self she can so lively move And never need a Foreign Help to take Then must her Motion everlasting prove Because her self she never can forsake But though Corruption cannot touch the Mind By any Cause that from it self may spring Some outward Cause Fate hath perhaps design'd Which to the Soul may utter Quenching bring Perhaps her Cause may cease and she may die God is her Cause his Word her Maker was Which shall stand fix'd for all Eternity When Heav'n and Earth shall like a Shadow pass Perhaps some thing repugnant to her Kind By strong Antipathy the Soul may kill But what can be Contrary to the Mind Which holds all Contraries in Concord still She lodgeth Heat and Cold and Moist and Dry And Life and Death and Peace and War together Ten thousand fighting things in her do lie Yet neither troubleth or disturbeth either Perhaps for want of Food the Soul may pine But that were strange since all things bad and good Since all God's Creatures Mortal and Divine Since God himself is her eternal Food Bodies are fed with things of mortal kind And so are subject to Mortality But Truth which is eternal feeds the Mind The Tree of Life which will not let her die Yet Violence perhaps the
Soul destroys As Lightning or the Sun-beams dim the Sight Or as a Thunder clap or Cannon's noise The Pow'r of Hearing doth astonish quite But high Perfection to the Soul it brings T' encounter things most excellent and high For when she views the best and greatest things They do not hurt but rather clear the Eye Besides as Homer's Gods ' gainst Armies stand Her subtil Form can through all Dangers slide Bodies are Captive Minds endure no Band And Will is free and can no Force abide But lastly Time perhaps at last hath pow'r To spend her lively Pow'rs and quench her Light But old God Saturn which doth all devour Doth cherish her and still augment her Might Heav'n waxeth old and all the Spheres above Shall one Day faint and their swift Motion stay And Time it self in time shall cease to move Only the Soul survives and lives for ay Our Bodies ev'ry Footstep that they make March towards Death until at last they dye Whether we work or play or sleep or wake Our Life doth pass and with Time's Wings doth fly But to the Soul Time doth Perfection give And adds fresh Lustre to her Beauty still And makes her in eternal Youth to live Like her which Nectar to the Gods doth fill The more she lives the more she feeds on Truth The more she feeds her Strength doth more increase And what is Strength but an Effect of Youth Which if Time nurse how can it ever cease SECT XXXII Objections against the Immortality of the Soul with their respective Answers BVT now these Epicures begin to smile And say My Doctrine is more safe than true And that I fondly do my self beguile While these receiv'd Opinions I ensue For what say they Doth not the Soul wax old How comes it then that Aged Men do dote And that their Brains grow sottish dull and cold Which were in Youth the only Spirits of note What Are not Souls within themselves corrupted How can there Idiots then by Nature be How is it that some Wits are interrupted That now they dazled are now clearly see These Questions make a subtil Argument To such as think both Sense and Reason One To whom nor Agent from the Instrument Nor Pow'r of Working from the Work is known But they that know that Wit can shew no Skill But when she Things in Sense's Glass doth view Do know if Accident this Glass do spill It nothing sees or sees the False for true For if that Region of the tender Brain Where th' inward Sense of Fantasy should sit And th' outward Senses Gath'rings should retain By Nature or by Chance become unfit Either at first uncapable it is And so few things or none at all receives Or marr'd by Accident which haps amiss And so amiss it ev'ry thing perceives Then as a cunning Prince that useth Spies If they return no News doth nothing know But if they make Advertisement of Lies The Prince's Counsels all awry do go Ev'n so the Soul to such a Body knit Whose inward Senses undisposed be And to receive the Forms of Things unfit Where nothing is brought in can nothing see This makes the Idiot which hath yet a Mind Able to know the Truth and chuse the Good If she such Figures in the Brain did find As might be found if it in temper stood But if a Phrensy do possess the Brain It so disturbs and blots the Forms of Things As Fantasy proves altogether vain And to the Wit no true Relation brings Then doth the Wit admitting all for true Build fond Conclusions on those idle Grounds Then doth it fly the Good and Ill pursue Believing all that this false Spy propounds But purge the Hamours and the Rage appease Which this Distemper in the Fansy wrought Then shall the Wit which never had Disease Discourse and judge discreetly as it ought So though the Clouds eclipse the Sun 's fair Light Yet from his Face they do not take one Beam So have our Eyes their perfect Pow'r of Sight Ev'n when they look into a troubled Stream Then these Defects in Sense's Organs be Not in the Soul or in her working Might She cannot lose her perfect Pow'r to see Though Mists and Clouds do choak her Window-Light These Imperfections then we must impute Not to the Agent but the Instrument We must not blame Apollo but his Lute If false Accords from her false Strings be sent The Soul in all hath one Intelligence Though too much Moisture in an Infant 's Brain And too much Driness in an old Man's Sense Cannot the Prints of outward things retain Then doth the Soul want Work and idle sit And this we Childishness and Dotage call Yet hath she then a quick and active Wit If she had Stuff and Tools to work withal For give her Organs fit and Objects fair Give but the aged Man the young Man's Sense Let but Medea Aeson's Youth repair And straight she shews her wonted Excellence As a good Harper stricken far in Years Into whose cunning Hands the Gout doth fall All his old Crotchets in his Brain he bears But on his Harp plays ill or not at all But if Apollo takes his Gout away That he his nimble Fingers may apply Apollo's self will envy at his Play And all the World applaud his Minstralsy Then Dotage is no Weakness of the Mind But of the Sense for if the Mind did waste In all old Men we should this Wasting find When they some certain Term of Years had pass'd But most of them ev'n to their dying Hour Retain a Mind more lively quick and strong And better use their understanding Pow'r Then when their Brains were warm and Limbs were young For though the Body wasted be and weak And though the Leaden Form of Earth it bears Yet when we hear that half-dead Body speak We oft are ravish'd to the heav'nly Spheres Yet say these Men If all her Organs die Then hath the Soul no pow'r her Pow'rs to use So in a sort her Pow'rs extinct do lie When unto Act she cannot them reduce And if her Pow'rs be dead then what is she For since from ev'ry thing some Pow'rs do spring And from those Pow'rs some Acts proceeding be Then kill both Pow'r and Act and kill the thing Doubtless the Body's Death when once it dies The Instruments of Sense and Life doth kill So that she cannot use those Faculties Although their Root rest in her Substance still But as the Body living Wit and Will Can judge and chuse without the Body's Aid Though on such Objects they are working still As through the Body's Organs are convey'd So when the Body serves her turn no more And all her Senses are extinct and gone She can discourse of what she learn'd before In heav'nly Contemplations all alone So if one Man well on the Lute doth play And have good Horsemanship and Learning's Skill Though both his Lute and Horse we take away Doth he not keep his former Learning still He keeps
it doubtless and can use it too And doth both th' other Skills in Pow'r retain And can of both the proper Actions do If with his Lute or Horse he meet again So though the Instruments by which we live And view the World the Body's Death do kill Yet with the Body they shall all revive And all their wonted Offices fulfil But how till then shall she her self employ Her Spies are dead which brought home News before What she hath got and keeps she may enjoy But she hath Means to understand no more Then what do those poor Souls which nothing get Or what do those which get and cannot keep Like Buckets bottomless which all out-let Those Souls for want of Exercise must sleep See how Man's Soul against it self doth strive Why should we not have other Means to know As Children while within the Womb they live Feed by the Navil Here they feed not so These Children if they had some use of Sense And should by chance their Mother's talking hear That in short time they shall come forth from thence Would fear their Birth more than our Death we fear They would cry out If we this place shall leave Then shall we break our tender Navil-strings How shall we then our Nourishment receive Since our sweet Food no other Conduit brings And if a Man should to these Babes reply That into this fair World they shall be brought Where they shall view the Earth the Sea the Sky The glorious Sun and all that God hath wrought That there ten thousand Dainties they shall meet Which by their Mouths they shall with pleasure take Which shall be cordial too as well as sweet And of their little Limbs tall Bodies make This World they 'd think a Fable ev'n as we Do think the Story of the Golden Age Or as some sensual Spirits ' mongst us be Which hold the World to come a feigned Stage Yet shall these Infants after find all true Tho' then thereof they nothing could conceive As soon as they are born the World they view And with their Mouths the Nurses Milk receive So when the Soul is born for Death is nought But the Soul's Birth and so we should it call Ten thousand things she sees beyond her Thought And in an unknown manner knows them all Then doth she see by Spectacles no more She hears not by report of double Spies Her self in Instants doth all things explore For each thing 's present and before her lies But still this Crew with Questions me pursues If Souls deceas'd say they still living be Why do they not return to bring us News Of that strange World where they such Wonders see Fond Men If we believe that Men do live Under the Zenith of both frozen Poles Though none come thence Advertisement to give Why bear we not the like Faith of our Souls The Soul hath here on Earth no more to do Than we have Bus'ness in our Mother's Womb What Child doth covet to return thereto Although all Children first from thence do come But as Noah's Pigeon which return'd no more Did shew she footing found for all the Flood So when good Souls departed through Death's Door Come not again it shews their Dwelling good And doubtless such a Soul as up doth mount And doth appear before her Maker's Face Holds this vile World in such a base Account As she looks down and scorns this wretched Place But such as are detruded down to Hell Either for Shame they still themselves retire Or ty'd in Chains they in close Prison dwell And cannot come although they much desire Well well say these vain Spirits thought vain it is To think our Souls to Heav'n or Hell do go Politick Men have thought it not amiss To spread this Lye to make Men virtuous so Do you then think this Moral Virtue good I think you do ev'n for your private Gain For Commonwealths by Virtue ever stood And common Good the private doth contain If then this Virtue you do love so well Have you no Means her Practice to maintain But you this Lye must to the People tell That good Souls live in Joy and Ill in Pain Must Virtue be preserved by a Lye Virtue and Truth do ever best agree By this it seems to be a Verity Since the Effects so good and virtuous be For as the Devil the Father is of Lies So Vice and Mischief do his Lies ensue Then this good Doctrine did not he devise But made this Lye which saith it is not true For how can that be false which ev'ry Tongue Of ev'ry mortal Man affirms for true Which Truth hath in all Ages been so strong As Load-Stone-like all Hearts it ever drew For not the Christian or the Jew alone The Persian or the Turk acknowledge this This Mystery to the wild Indian known And to the Canibal and Tartar is This rich Assyrian Drug grows ev'ry where As common in the North as in the East This Doctrine doth not enter by the Ear But of it self is native in the Breast None that acknowledge God or Providence Their Souls Eternity did ever doubt For all Religion takes Root from hence Which no poor naked Nation lives without For since the World for Man created was For only Man the Use thereof doth know If Man do perish like a wither'd Grass How doth God's Wisdom order things below And if that Wisdom still wise Ends propound Why made he Man of other Creatures King When if he perish here there is not found In all the World so poor and vile a thing If Death do quench us quite we have great wrong Since for our service all things else were wrought That Daws and Trees and Rocks should last so long When we must in an instant pass to nought But bless'd be that Great Pow'r that hath us bless'd With longer Life than Heav'n or Earth can have Which hath infus'd into our mortal Breast Immortal Pow'rs not subject to the Grave For though the Soul do seem her Grave to bear And in this World is almost buri'd quick We have no Cause the Body's Death to fear For when the Shell is broke out comes a Chick SECT XXXIII Three Kinds of Life answerable to the three Powers of the Soul FOR as the Soul 's Essential Pow'rs are three The quick'ning Pow'r the Pow'r of Sense and Reason Three kinds of Life to her designed be Which perfect these three Pow'rs in their due Season The first Life in the Mother's Womb is spent Where she her Nursing Pow'r doth only use Where when she finds defect of Nourishment Sh'expels her Body and this World she views This we call Birth but if the Child could speak He Death would call it and of Nature plain That she would thrust him out naked and weak And in his Passage pinch him with such Pain Yet out he comes and in this World is plac'd Where all his Senses in Perfection be Where he finds Flowers to smell and Fruits to taste And Sounds
to hear and sundry forms to see When he hath pass'd some Time upon the Stage His Reason then a little seems to wake Which though she spring when Sense doth fade with Age Yet can she here no perfect Practice make Then doth aspiring Soul the Body leave Which we call Death but were it known to all What Life our Souls do by this Death receive Men would it Birth or Goal-Deliv'ry call In this third Life Reason will be so bright As that her Spark will like the Sun-Beams shine And shall of God enjoy the real Sight Being still increas'd by Influence divine SECT XXXIV The Conclusion O Ignorant poor Man what dost thou bear Lock'd up within the Casket of thy Breast What Jewels and what Riches hast thou there What heav'nly Treasure in so weak a Chest Look in thy Soul and thou shalt Beauties find Like those which drown'd Narcissus in the Flood Honour and Pleasure both are in thy Mind And all that in the World is counted Good Think of her Worth and think that God did mean This worthy Mind should worthy things embrace Blot not her Beauties with thy Thoughts unclean Nor her dishonour with thy Passion base Kill not her Quickn'ng Pow'r with Surfeitings Mar not her Sense with Sensuality Cast not her serious Wit on idle things Make not her Free Will Slave to Vanity And when thou think'st of her Eternity Think not that Death against her Nature is Think it a Birth And when thou go'st to die Sing like a Swan as if thou went'st to Bliss And if thou like a Child didst fear before Being in the dark where thou didst nothing see Now I have brought thee Torch-Light fear no more Now when thou dy'st thou canst not hood wink'd And thou my Soul which turn'st with curious Eye To view the Beams of thine own Form divine Know that thou canst know nothing perfectly While thou art clouded with this Flesh of mine Take heed of Over-weening and compare Thy Peacock's Feet with thy gay Peacock's Train Study the best and highest Things that are But of thy self an humble Thought retain Cast down thy self and only strive to raise The Glory of thy Maker's sacred Name Use all thy Pow'rs that blessed Pow'r to praise Which gives thee Pow'r to be and use the same FINIS BOOKS Printed for and are to be Sold by W. 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THE Original Nature and Immortality OF THE SOUL THE Original Nature and Immortality OF THE SOUL A POEM With an Introduction concerning Humane Knowledge Written by Sir JOHN DAVIES Attorney-General to Q. Elizabeth With a Prefatory Account concerning the Author and Poem LONDON Printed for W. Rogers at the Sun against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet street 1697. To His EXCELLENCY The Right Honourable CHARLES Earl of Dorset and Middlesex One of the Lords Justices of England Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter c. MY LORD I Was oblig'd to Your Lordship for the first sight I had of this Poem Your Lordship was then pleas'd to express some Commendation of it Since that time I have waited an Opportunity of getting it Publish'd in a more convenient and portable Volume the Subject-matter being of that Importance to every Person as requir'd its being made a Manual for People to carry about them Nor can my Pains and Care herein be unacceptable to Your Lordship who are not only the Patron of the Muses but of Publick Good in all kinds The Book has a just Claim to Your Lordship's Protection both for the Solidity of Judgment and extraordinary Genius that appear in it 'T is the Portraicture of a Humane Soul in the Perfection of its Faculties and Operations so far as its present State is capable of which naturally directed me where I ought to present it But as Justice engag'd me in this Address I must upon all Occasions confess my Obligations to Your Lordship and particularly for placing me in His Majesty's Service a Favour which I had not the Presumption to seek I was conscious how short I came of my Predecessors in Performances of Wit and Diversion and therefore as the best means I had of justifying Your Lordship's Kindness employ'd my Self in publishing such Poems as might be useful in promoting Religion and Morality But how little I have consulted my immediate Interest in so doing I am severely sensible I engaged in the Service of the Temple at my own Expence while Others made their profitable Markets on the Stage This I confess may seem improper in a Dedication especially where I have so large a Field of Panegyrick before me But Your Lordship's Character by Consent of Mankind is above all our Encomiums and Persons of greatest Worth and Accomplishments are always least fond of their own Praises I shall therefore only mention the business of my present Waiting on Your Lordship I have here got a useful Poem Reprinted and beg to have it Recommended to every Body's perusal by Your Lordship's Acceptance of it desiring only from its Readers the same Candour Your Lordship has been pleas'd to use in making some Allowances for the time in which it was written Nor will the Author often have Occasion for Favour in the main he will need only to have Justice done him But I will not forestal the business of the ensuing Preface written by an Ingenious and Learned Divine who has both done Right to the great Manes of the Author and made some Amends for this Unpolish'd Address from me who am only Ambitious of professing my self with utmost Zeal and Gratitude MY LORD Your LORDSHIP 's Most Humble most Oblig'd and Devoted Servant N. TATE PREFACE TO Sir John Davies's Poem THERE is a natural Love and Fondness in English-men for whatever was done in the Reign of Q. Elizabeth we look upon her Time as our Golden Age and the Great Men who lived in it as our chiefest Hero's of Virtue and greatest Examples of Wisdom Courage Integrity and Learning Among many others the Author of this Poem merits a lasting Honour for as he was a most Eloquent Lawyer so in the Composition of this Piece we admire him for a good Poet and exact Philosopher 'T is not Rhyming that makes a Poet but the true and impartial representing of Virtue and Vice so as to instruct Mankind in Matters of greatest Importance And this Observation has been made of our Countrymen That Sir John Suckling wrote in the most Courtly and Gentleman-like Style Waller in the most sweet and flowing Numbers Denham with the most Accurate Judgment and Correctness Cowley with Pleasing Softness and Plenty of Imagination None ever utter'd more Divine Thoughts than Mr. Herbert none more Philosophical than Sir John Davies His Thoughts are moulded into easie and significant Words his Rhymes never mislead the Sense but are led and govern'd by it So that in reading such Useful Performances the Wit of Mankind may be refin'd from its Dross their Memories furnish'd with the best Notions their Judgments strengthen'd and their Conceptions enlarg'd by which means their Mind will be rais'd to the most perfect Ideas it is capable of in this Degenerate State But as others have labour'd to carry out our Thoughts and to entertain them with all manner of Delights Abroad 'T is the peculiar Character of this Author that he has taught us with Antoninus to meditate upon our selves that he has disclos'd to us greater Secrets at Home Self-Reflection being the only Way to Valuable and True Knowledge which consists in that rare Science of a Man's Self which the Moral Philosopher loses in a Crowd of Definitions Divisions and Distinctions The Historian cannot find it amongst all his Musty Records being far better acquainted with the Transactions of a 1000 years past than with the present Age or with Himself The Writer of Fables and Romances wanders from it in following the Delusions of a Wild Fancy Chimera's and Fictions that do not only exceed the Works but also the Possibility of Nature Whereas the Resemblance of Truth is the utmost Limit of Poetical Liberty which our Author has very religiously observ'd for he has not only placed and connected together the most Amiable Images of all those Powers that are in our Souls but he has furnish'd and squar'd his Matter like a True Philosopher that is he has made both Body and Soul Colour and Shadow of his Poem out of the Store-house of his own Mind which gives the whole Work a Real and Natural Beauty when that which is borrow'd out of Books the Boxes of Counterfeit Complexion shews Well or Ill as it has more or less Likeness to the Natural But our Author is beholding to none but Himself and by knowing himself thoroughly he has arriv'd to know much which appears in his admirable Variety of well-chosen Metaphors and Similitudes that cannot be found within the compass of a narrow Knowledge For this reason the Poem on account of its intrinsick Worth would be as lasting as the Iliad or the Aeneid if the Language 't is wrote in were as Immutable as that of the Greeks and Romans Now it wou'd be of great benefit to the Beau's of our Age to carry this Glass in their Pocket whereby they might learn to Think rather than Dress well It would be of use also to the Wits and Virtuoso's to carry this Antidote about them against the Poyson they
who sustain'd Wit 's Empire when Divine Eliza reign'd But sure when Foreign Toils will time allow Our Age's Hydra-Vices to subdue Victorious William's Piety will chase From these infested Realms th' Infernal Race And when Alarms of War are heard no more With Europe's Peace the Muse's State restore THE Author's Dedication TO Q. ELIZABETH TO that clear Majesty which in the North Doth like another Sun in Glory rise Which standeth fix'd yet spreads her Heavenly Worth Load-stone to Hearts and Load star to all Eyes Like Heaven in All like Earth in this alone That though great States by her support do stand Yet she her self supported is of none But by the Finger of the Almighty's Hand To the divinest and the richest Mind Both by Art's Purchase and by Nature's Dower That ever was from Heaven to Earth confin'd To shew the utmost of a Creature 's Power To that great Spring which doth great Kingdom 's move The sacred Spring ' whence Right and Honour streams Distilling Virtue shedding Peace and Love In every Place as Cynthia sheds her Beams I offer up some Sparkles of that Fire Whereby we reason live and move and be These Sparks by Nature evermore aspire Which makes them now to such a Highness flee Fair Soul since to the fairest Body joyn'd You give such lively Life such quickning Power And Influence of such Celestial Kind As keeps it still in Youth's immortal Flower As where the Sun is present all the Year And never doth retire his golden Ray Needs must the Spring be everlasting there And every Season like the Month of May. O many many Years may you remain A happy Angel to this happy Land Long long may you on Earth our Empress reign E're you in Heaven a glorious Angel stand Stay long sweet Spirit e're thou to Heaven depart Who mak'st each Place a Heaven wherein thou art Her MAJESTY' 's Devoted Subject and Servant JOHN DAVIES July 11. 1592. THE CONTENTS THE Introduction to Humane Knowledge Page 1 Of the Original Nature and Immortality of the Soul 11 Sect. I. That the Soul is a Thing subsisting by its self and has proper Operations without the Body 16 Sect. II. That the Soul is more than a Perfection or Reflection of the Sense 22 Sect. III. That the Soul is more than the Temperature of the Humours of the Body 26 Sect. IV. That the Soul is a Spirit 28 Sect. V. Erroneous Opinions of the Creation of Souls 33 Sect. VI. That the Soul is not ex Traduce 35 Sect. VII Reasons drawn from Nature 37 Sect. VIII Reasons drawn from Divinity 40 Sect. IX Why the Soul is united to the Body 48 Sect. X. In what Manner the Soul is united to the Body 49 Sect. XI How the Soul exercises her Powers in the Body 51 Sect. XII The Vegetative Power of the Soul 52 Sect. XIII The Power of Sense 53 Sect. XIV Seeing 54 Sect. XV. Hearing 56 Sect. XVI Taste 58 Sect XVII Smelling ibid. Sect. XVIII Feeling 59 Sect. XIX Of the Imagination or Common Sense 60 Sect. XX. Fantasy 61 Sect. XXI Sensitive Memory 62 Sect. XXII The Passion of the Sense 63 Sect. XXIII Local Motion 64 Sect. XXIV The Intellectual Powers of the Soul 65 Sect. XXV Wit Reason Vnderstanding Opinion Judgment Wisdom 66 Sect. XXVI Innate Ideas in the Soul 67 Sect. XXVII The Power of Will and Relation between the Wit and Will 68 Sect. XXVIII The Intellectual Memory 70 Sect. XXIX The Dependency of the Soul's Faculties upon each Other ibid. Sect. XXX That the Soul is Immortal proved by several Reasons 73 Sect. XXXI That the Soul cannot be destroy'd 89 Sect. XXXII Objections against the Immortality of the Soul with their respective Answers 92 Sect. XXXIII Three Kinds of Life answerable to the three Powers of the Soul 105 Sect. XXXIV The Conclusion 106 THE Introduction WHY did my Parents send me to the Schools That I with Knowledge might enrich my Mind Since the Desire to know first made Men Fools And did corrupt the Root of all Mankind For when God's Hand had written in the Hearts Of Our first Parents all the Rules of Good So that their Skill infus'd surpass'd all Arts That ever were before or since the Flood And when their Reason's Eye was sharp and clear And as an Eagle can behold the Sun Could have approach'd th' Eternal Light as near As th' intellectual Angels could have done Ev'n then to them the Spirit of Lyes suggests That they were blind because they saw not Ill And breath'd into their incorrupted Breasts A curious Wish which did corrupt their Will From that same Ill they streight desir'd to know Which Ill being nought but a Defect of Good In all God's Works the Devil could not show While Man their Lord in his Perfection stood So that themselves were first to do the Ill E'er they thereof the Knowledge could attain Like him that knew not Poison's power to kill Until by tasting it himself was slain Ev'n so by tasting of that Fruit forbid Where they sought Knowledge they did Error find Ill they desir'd to know and Ill they did And to give Passion Eyes made Reason blind For then their Minds did first in Passion see Those wretched Shapes of Misery and Woe Of Nakedness of Shame of Poverty Which then their own Experience made them know But then grew Reason dark that she no more Could the fair Forms of Good and Truth discern Batts they became who Eagles were before And this they got by their Desire to learn But we their wretched Off-spring What do we Do not we still taste of the Fruit forbid While with fond fruitless Curiosity In Books prophane we seek for Knowledge hid What is this Knowledge but the Sky stoll'n Fire For which the Thief still chain'd in Ice doth sit And which the poor rude Satyr did admire And needs would kiss but burnt his Lips with it What is it but the Cloud of empty Rain Which when Jove's Guest embrac'd he Monsters got Or the false Pails which oft being fill'd with pain Receiv'd the Water but retain'd it not In fine What is it but the fiery Coach Which the Youth sought and sought his Death withal Or the Boy 's Wings which when he did approach The Sun 's hot Beams did melt and let him fall And yet alas when all our Lamps are burn'd Our Bodies wasted and our Spirits spent When we have all the learned Volumes turn'd Which yield Mens Wits both Help and Ornament What can we know or what can we discern When Error clouds the Windows of the Mind The divers Forms of things how can we learn That have been ever from our Birth-day blind When Reason's Lamp which like the Sun in Sky Throughout Man's little World her Beams did spread Is now become a Sparkle which doth lie Under the Ashes half extinct and dead How can we hope that through the Eye and Ear This dying Sparkle in this cloudy place Can recollect those Beams of Knowledge clear Which
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
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
which the World contains Then she of nothing must created be And to create to God alone pertains Again if Souls do other Souls beget 'T is by themselves or by the Bodies Pow'r If by themselves what doth their Working let But they might Souls engender ev'ry Hour If by the Body how can Wit and Will Join with the Body only in this Act Since when they do their other Works fulfil They from the Body do themselves abstract Again if Souls of Souls begotten were Into each other they should change and move And Change and Motion still Corruption bear How shall we then the Soul immortal prove If lastly Souls do Generation use Then should they spread incorruptible Seed What then becomes of that which they do lose When th' Acts of Generation do not speed And though the Soul could cast spiritual Seed Yet would she not because she never dies For mortal things desire their Like to breed That so they may their Kind immortalize Therefore the Angels Sons of God are nam'd And marry not nor are in Marriage giv'n Their Spirits and ours are of one Substance fram'd And have one Father ev'n the Lord of Heaven Who would at first that in each other thing The Earth and Water living Souls should breed But that Man's Soul whom he would make their King Should from himself immediately proceed And when he took the Woman from Man's side Doubtless himself inspir'd her Soul alone For 't is not said he did Man's Soul divide But took Flesh of his Flesh Bone of his Bone Lastly God being made Man for Man's own sake And being like Man in all except in Sin His Body from the Virgin 's Womb did take But all agree God form'd his Soul within Then is the Soul from God so Pagans say Which saw by Nature's Light her heavenly Kind Naming her Kin to God and God's bright Ray A Citizen of Heav'n to Earth confin'd But now I feel they pluck me by the Ear Whom my young Muse so boldly termed blind And crave more heav'nly Light that Cloud to clear Which makes them think God doth not make the Mind SECT VIII Reasons from Divinity GOd doubtless makes her and doth make her good And grafts her in the Body there to spring Which though it be corrupted Flesh and Blood Can no way to the Soul Corruption bring Yet is not God the Author of her Ill Though Author of her Being and being there And if we dare to judge our Maker's Will He can condemn us and himself can clear First God from infinite Eternity Decreed what hath been is or shall be done And was resolv'd that ev'ry Man should be And in his turn his Race of Life should run And so did purpose all the Souls to make That ever have been made or ever shall And that their Being they should only take In Humane Bodies or not be at all Was it then fit that such a weak Event Weakness it self the Sin and Fall of Man His Counsel's Execution should prevent Decreed and fix'd before the World began Or that one Penal Law by Adam broke Should make God break his own Eternal Law The settled Order of the World revoke And change all Forms of Things which he foresaw Could Eve's weak Hand extended to the Tree In sunder rend that Adamantine Chain Whose golden Links Effects and Causes be And which to God's own Chair doth fix'd remain O Could we see how Cause from Cause doth spring How mutually they link'd and folded are And hear how oft one disagreeing String The Harmony doth rather make than marr And view at once how Death by Sin is brought And how from Death a better Life doth rise How This God's Justice and his Mercy taught We this Decree would praise as right and wise But we that measure Times by First and Last The sight of things successively do take When God on all at once his View doth cast And of all Times doth but one Instant make All in Himself as in a Glass he sees For from him by him thrô him all things be His Sight is not discoursive by degrees But seeing the whole each single part doth see He looks on Adam as a Root or Well And on his Heirs as Branches and as Streams He sees all Men as one Man though they dwell In sundry Cities and in sundry Realms And as the Root and Branch are but one Tree And Well and Stream do but one River make So if the Root and Well corrupted be The Stream and Branch the same Corruption take So when the Root and Fountain of Mankind Did draw Corruption and God's Curse by Sin This was a Charge that all his Heirs did bind And all his Off-spring grew corrupt therein And as when th' Hand doth strike the Man offends For Part from whole Law severs not in this So Adam's Sin to the whole Kind extends For all their Natures are but part of his Therefore this Sin of Kind not personal But real and hereditary was The Guilt thereof and Punishment to all By Course of Nature and of Law doth pass For as that easie Law was giv'n to all To Ancestor and Heir to First and Last So was the first Transgression general And all did pluck the Fruit and all did taste Of this we find some Foot-steps in our Law Which doth her Root from God and Nature take Ten thousand Men she doth together draw And of them all one Corporation make Yet these and their Successors are but one And if they gain or lose their Liberties They harm or profit not themselves alone But such as in succeeding Times shall rise And so the Ancestor and all his Heirs Though they in number pass the Stars of Heav'n Are still but one his Forfeitures are theirs And unto them are his Advancements giv'n His Civil Acts do bind and bar them all And as from Adam all Corruption take So if the Father's Crime be capital In all the Blood Law doth Corruption make Is it then just with us to disinherit Th' unborn Nephews for the Father's Fault And to advance again for one Man's Merit A thousand Heirs that have deserved nought And is not God's Decree as just as ours If he for Adam's Sin his Sons deprive Of all those native Virtues and those Pow'rs Which he to him and to his Race did give For What is this contagious Sin of Kind But a Privation of that Grace within And of that great rich Dowry of the Mind Which all had had but for the first Man's Sin If then a Man on light Conditions gain A great Estate to him and his for ever If wilfully he forfeit it again Who doth bemoan his Heir or blame the Giver So though God make the Soul good rich and fair Yet when her Form is to the Body knit Which makes the Man which Man is Adam's Heir Justly forthwith he takes his Grace from it And then the Soul being first from Nothing brought When God's Grace fails her doth to Nothing fall And this