Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	body_n	life_n	nature_n	5,718	5	5.3460	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A37242	A work for none but angels & men. That is to be able to look into, and to know our selves. Or a book shewing what the soule is, subsisting and having its operations without the body; its more th[e]n a perfection or reflection of the sense, or teperature of humours: how she exercises her powers of vegetative or quickening power of the senses. Of the imaginations or common sense, the phantasie, sensative memory, passions motion of life, local motion, and intellectual powers of the soul. Of the wit, understanding, reason, opinion, judgement, power of will, and the relations betwixt wit & wil. Of the intellectual memory, that the soule is immortall, and cannot dye, cannot be destroyed, her cause ceaseth not, violence nor time cannot destroy her; and all objections answered to the contrary.; Nosce teipsum. Selections	Davies, John, Sir, 1569-1626.	1653 (1653)	Wing D409; ESTC R207134	24,057	52

A WORK For none but ANGELS MEN THAT IS To be able to look into and to know our selves OR A BOOK Shewing what the SOULE Is Subsisting and having its operations without the Body it s more then a perfection or reflection of the the Sense or Temperature of Humours How she exercises her powersof vegetative or quickning power of the Senses Of the Imaginations or Common sense the Phantasie Sensative Memory Passions Motion of Life the Local Motion and Intellectual Powers of the soul Of the Wit Understanding Reason Opinion Judgement Power of Will and the Relations betwixt Wit Wil. Of the Intellectuall Memory that the soule is Immortall and cannot dye cannot be destroyed her cause ceaseth not violence nor time cannot destroy her and all Objections Answered to the contrary O thou my Soule which turn'st thy curious eye To view the beames of thine owne forme Divine Know that thou canst know nothing perfectly Whil'st thou art clouded with this flesh of mine Such knowledge is too wonderfull for me it is high I cannot attaine unto it Psal. 139. 6. LONDON Printed by M. S. for Tho Jenner at the South-Entrance of the Royall EXCHANGE 1653. Of the Soule of Man and the Immortality thereof THe lights of Heaven which are the worlds faire eyes Look down into the world the world to see And as they run or wander in the skies Surveigh all things that on this Center be And yet the lights which in my Towre do shine Mine Eyes which all objects both nigh and farre Look not into this little world of mine Nor see my face wherein they fixed are Since Nature fails us in no needfull thing Why want I meanes mine in ward self to see Which sight the knowledge of my self might bring Which to true wisedome is the first degree That Powre which gave me eyes the world to view To view my selfe infus'd an inward light Whereby my Soule as by a mirror true Of her owne forme may take a perfect sight But as the sharpest eye discerneth nought Except the Sun-beames in the aire do shine So the best Sense with her reflecting thought Seeks not her selfe without some light Divine O Light which mak'st the Light which makes the Day Which set'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 forme how can my Spark discerne Which dim by Nature Art did never clear When the great Wits of whom all skill we learne Are ignorant both what she is and where One thinks the Soule is Aire another Fire Another Blood diffus'd about the heart Another s●●th the Elements conspire And to her Essence each doth give a part Musi●ians think our Souls are Harmonies Physitians hold that they Complexions be Epicures make them swarmes of Atomies Which doe by chance into our Bodies flee Some think one generall Soule fils every braine As the bright Sun sheds light in every Starre And others think the name of Soule is vaine And that we onely well-mixt bodies are In judgement of her substance thus they vary And thus they varie in judgement of her seat For some her Chaire up to the brain do carry Some thrust it downe into the stomachs heat Some place it in the Root of life the Heart Some in the Liver fountaine of the Veines Some say she is all in all and all in part Some say she 's not contain'd but all contains Thus these great Clerks their little wisedome 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 braine could ever yet propound Touching the Soule so vaine and fond a thought But some among these Masters have been found Which in their Schools the self-same thing have taut God onely Wise to punish pride of Wit Among mens Wits hath this confusion wrought As the proud Towre whose points the Clouds did hit By Tongues Confusion was to ruine brought VNDERSTANDING I once was AEgle ey'ed full of all light Am owle eyd now as dim as derke●s night As through a glasse or Cloud I all thinges vew Shall on day see them in there proper hue But thou which did'st Mans Soule of nothing make And when to nothing it was fallen agen To make it new the Forme of Man did'st take And God with God becam'st a Man with Men Thou that hast fashion'd twice this Soule of ours So that she is by double title thine Thou onely knowest her nature and her powers Her subcile form thou onely canst define To judge her selfe she must her selfe transcend As greater Circles comprehend the lesse But she wants pow'r her own pow'r to extend As fettred men cannot their strength expresse But thou bright morning Starre thou rising Sun Which in these later times hast brought to light Those Mysteries that since the world begun Lay hid in darknesse and in eternal night Thou like the Sun dost with indifferent ray Into the Pallace and the Cottage shine And shew'st the Soule both to the Clerk and Lay By the clear Lamp of thy Oracle Divine This Lamp through all the Regions of my braine Where my Soul sits doth spread her beams of grace As now me thinks I do distinguish plaine Each subtil line of her immortal face The Soule a Substance and a Spirit is Which God himselfe 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 the Spirit be to the Body knit As an apt meane her powers to exercise Which are Life Motion Sense and Will and Wit Yet she survives although the Body dies She is a substance and a real thing Which hath it selfe an actuall working might Which neither from the Senses power doth spring Nor from the Bodies humours tempered right She is a Vine which doth no propping need To make her spread her selfe or spring upright She is a Starre 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 foresee When she doth doubt at first and choose at last These acts her owne without the Body be When of the dew which th' Eye and Eare doth take From flowers abroad and bring into the braine She doth within both wax and honey make This work is hers this is her proper paine When she from sundry Acts one skill doth draw Gath'ring from diverse Fights one act of Warre From many Cases like one Rule of Law These her Collections not the Senses are When in th' effects she doth the Causes know And seeing the stream thinks where the spring doth rise And seeing the branch conceiv'th the root below These things she viewes without the Bodies eyes When she without a Pegasus doth flie Swifter then lightnings fire to East to West About the Center and about the skie She travels then

it Birth or Gaole-delivery 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 increast by influence Divine O ignorant poor man wha● d●st thou bear Lock't up within the Casket of thy breast What Jewels and what riches hast thou there What heavenly treasure in so weak a chest Look in thy Soule 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 There are a Crew of fellowes of suppose That angle for their victualls with their nose As quick as Beagles in the smelling sence To smell a feast in Pauses 2 miles from thence 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 passions base Kill not her quickning power with surfettings 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 goest to dye 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 did'st nothing see Now I have brought thee Torch-light fear no more Now when thou diest thou canst not hoodwinkt be Take heed of over-weening and compare Thy Peacocks feet with thy gay Peacocks train Study the best and highest things that are But of thy self an humble thought retain Cast down thy selfe and only strive to raise The glory of thy Makers sacred name Use all thy powers that blessed power to praise Which gives thee power to be and use the same FINIS What the Soule is That the soul is a thing subsisting by it selse without the body That the soul hath a proper Operation without the body That the soul is more then the temperatures of the humours of the Bodie That the soul is a Spirit That it cannot be a Body That the soul is created immediately by God Zech. 12.1 Erronious opinions of the creation of Soules That the soul is not traduced from the parents Reasons drawn from nature Why the soul is united to the body In what manner the Soule is united to the Body How the soul doth exercise her powers in the Body The vegetative or quickning power The power of Sense Sight The Phantasie The sensative Memory The passions of Sense The motion of life The locall motion The intellectuall powers of the Soule The Wit or understanding Reason Understanding Opinion Judgement Note The Power or Will The relations betwixt Wit and Will The Intellectual Memory An Acclamation That the soul is immortal cannot dye 1 Reason Drawne from the desire of Knowledge 2 Reason Drawne from the Motion of the Soule The Soule compared to a River 4 Reason From contempt of death in the better fort of 〈◊〉 4 Reason From the fear of death i' the wicked souls 5 Reason From the generall desire of imortality 6 Reason From the very doubt and dispuration of immortality That the soul cannot be destroyed Her cause ceaseth not She hath no contrary She can't dye for want of food Violence cannot destroy her Time cannot destroy her Objections against the immortality of the Soule 1 Objection Answer 2 Objection Answer 3 Objection Answer 4 Objection Answer 5 Objection Answer The generall consent of all Three kinds of life answerable to the three powers of the Soule An Acclamation

although the Body rest When all her works she formeth first within Proportions them and sees their perfect end Ere she in act doth any part begin What instruments doth then the Body lend When without hands she thus doth Castles build Sees without eyes and without feet doth run When she digests the World yet is not fild By her owne power these miracles are done When she defines argues divides compounds Considers vertue vice and generall 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 selfe she doth fulfil Use of her Bodies Organs she hath none When she doth use the powers of Wit and Will Yet in the Bodies prison so she lyes As through the Bodies windowes she must look Her diverse powers of Sense to exercise By gathering Notes out of the Worlds great Book Nor can her selfe discourse or judge of ought But what the sense Collects and home doth bring And yet the power 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 power of sight So though these fruits of Sense her objects be Yet she discernes them by her proper light The work-man on his stuffe his skill doth show And yet the stuffe gives not the man his skil States their affairs do by their servants know But order them by their owne royal wil So though this cunning Mistresse and this Queen Doth as her instruments the Senses use To know all things that are felt heard or seen Yet she her selfe doth onely judge and choose Right so the Soule which is a Lady free And doth the justice of her State maintaine Because the Senses ready servants be Attending nigh about her Court the braine By them the formes of outward things she learnes For they returne into the fantasie Whatever each of them abroad discernes And there enrol it for the mind to see But when she fits to judge the good and ill And to discerne betwixt the false and true She is not guided by the Senses skill But doth each thing in her owne Mirror view Then she the Senses checks which oft do erre And even against their false reports decrees And oft she doth condemne what they prefer For with a powre above the Sense she sees Therefore no Sense the precious joyes conceives Which in her private Contemplations be For then the ravisht spirit the Senses leaves Hath her owne powers and proper actions free Her harmonies are sweet and full of skill When on the bodies instrument she playes But the proportions of the wit and will Those sweet accords are even the Angels layes Doubtlesse in man there is a nature found Beside the Senses and above them farre Though most men being in sensual pleasures drownd It seems their souls but in the Senses are If we had nought but Sense then onely they Should have found minds which have their Senses sound But wisdome growes 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 then we As having Senses apprehensive might In a more clear and excellent degree But they do want that quick discoursing power Which doth in us the erring Sense correct Therefore the Bee did suck the painted flower And birds of Grapes the cunning shadow peckt Sense outside knows the Soule through all things feet 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 doe I the Soule and Sense divide When Sense is but a powre which she extends Which being in diverse parts diversified The diverse formes of objects apprehends This powre spreads outward but the root doth grow In th' inward Soule which onely doth perceive For th' eyes and ears no more their objects know Then glasses know what faces they receive For if we chance to fix our thoughts elsewhere Although our eyes be ope we do not see And if one power did not both see and heare Our fights and sounds would alwayes double be Then is the Soule a nature which containes The powre of Sense within a greater powre Which doth employ and use the Senses paines But sits and rules within her private bowre If she doth then the subtill Sense excel How grosse are they that drowne her in the blood Or in the bodies humours tempred well As if in them such high perfection stood As if most skil in that Mositian were Which had the best and best ruin'd instrument As if the Pensil neat and Colours cleare Had powre to make the Painter excellent Why doth not Beauty then refine the wit And good Complection rectifie the will Why doth not Health bring wisdome still with it Why doth not Sicknesse make men brutish still Who can in Memory or Wit or Will Or aire or fire or earth or water find What Alchymist can d●aw with all his skil The Quintessence of these out of the mind If th' Elements which have nor life nor sense Can breed in us so great a powre as this Why give they not themselves like excellence Or other things wherein their mixture is If she were but the Bodies quality Then would she be with it sick maim'd and blind But we perceive where these privations be A healthy perfect and sharp-sighted mind If she were but the bodies accident And her sole being did in it subsist As white in snow she might her selfe absent And in the bodies substance not be mist But it on her not she on it depends For ●ne the body doth sustaine and cherish Such secret powers of life to it she lends That when they faile then doth the body perish Since then the Soule works by her selfe alone Springs not from sense nor humours well agreeing Her nature is peculiar and her owne She is a substance and a perfect being But though this substance be the root of Sense Sense knowes her not which doth but bodies know She is a spirit and heavenly influence Which from the fountaine of Gods spirit doth flow She is a spirit yet not like aire or wind Nor like the spirits about the heart or braine Nor like those spirits which Alchymists do find When they in every thing seek gold in vaine For she all natures under heaven doth passe Being like those spirits which Gods bright face doe see Or like himselfe whose image once she was Though now alas she scarce his shadow be Yet of the formes she holds the first degree That are to grosse materiall bodies knit Yet she her selfe is bodilesse and free And though confin'd is almost infinit Were she a body how could she remaine Within this Body which is lesse then she Or how could she the worlds great shape containe And in our narrow breasts contained be All Bodies are confin'd within some

place But she all place within her selfe confines All Bodies have their measure and their space But who can draw the Soules dimensive lines No Body can at once two formes admit Except the one the other do deface But in the Soule ten thousand formes do sit And none intrudes into her neighbours place All Bodies are with other Bodies fild But she receives both heaven and earth together Nor are their formes by rash incounter spild For there they stand and neither toncheth either MEMORIE A com̄on June all com̄ers to reteyne A Siue where good run̄e out bad remayne A Burrow with a thousand vermine hydes A Den where nothinge that is good abides Nor can her wide Embracements filled bee For they'that most and greatest things embrace Enlarge thereby their minds Capacitie As streames enlarg'd enlarge the Channels space All things 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 be 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 Doubtlesse this could not be but that she turnes Bodies to spirits by sublimation strange As fire converts to fire the things it burnes As we our meats into our nature change From their grosse matter she abstracts the formes And drawes a kind of Quintessence from things Which to her proper nature she transformes To beare them light on her celestiall wings This doth she when from things particular She doth abstract the universall kinds Which bodilesse and immateriall are And can be lodg'd but onely in our minds And thus from diverse accidents and acts Which doe within her observation fall She goddestes and powers divine abstracts As nature fortune and the vertues all Againe how can she severall Bodies know If in her selfe a Bodies forme she bear How can a Mirror sundry faces show If from all shapes and formes it be not clear Nor could we by our eyes all colours learn Except our eyes were of all colours voyd Nor sundry tasts can any tongue discerne Which is with grosse and bitter humours cloyd Nor may a man of passions judge aright Except his mind be from all passions free Nor can a Judge his office well acquite If he possest of either party be If lastly this quick powre a Body were Were it as swift as is the wind or fire Whose Atomies do th'one downe sidewayes beare And make the other 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 can not divide She 's sent as soon to China as to Spaine And thence returnes as soon as she is sent She measures with one time and with one paine An ell of Silk and heavens wide-spreading Tent As then the Soule a substance hath alone Besides the Body in which she is confin'd So hath she not a Body of her owne But is a spirit and immateriall mind Since Body and Soule have such diversities Well might we muse how first their match began But that we learn that he that spread the skies And fixt the earth first form'd the Soule in man 'T is true Prometheus first made man of earth And shed in him a beam of heavenly fire Now in their mothers 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 mothers aid Doth daily millions of Minerva's breed Then neither from eternity before Nor from the time when times 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 Cloister doth he keep These virgin spirits untill 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 certaine number make Infusing part in beasts and part in men And as unwilling farther paines to take Would make no more then those he framed then So that the widow Soule 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 passe These thoughts are fond for since the Bodies borne Be more in number far then those that die Thousands must be abortive and forlorne Ere others deaths to them their souls supply But as Gods handmaid nature doth create Bodies in time distinct and order due So God gives soules the like successive date Which himselfe makes in bodies formed new Which himselfe makes of no materiall thing For unto Angels he no power hath given Either to forme the shape or stuffe to bring From aire or fire or substance of the Heaven Nor he in this doth Natures service use For though from Bodies she can Bodies bring Yet could she never Soules from Soules traduce As fire from fire or light from light doth spring But many subtill wits have justifi'd That Souls from Souls spiritually may spring Which if the nature of the Soul be try'd Will even in nature prove as grosse a thing For all things made are either made of nought Or made of stuffe that ready made doth stand Of nought no creature ever formed ought For that is proper to th' Almighties hand If then the Soule another Soule do make Because her power is kept within a bound She must some former stufle or matter take But in the Soule there is no matter found Then if her heavenly Forme do not agree With any matter which the world containes Then she of nothing must created be And to create to God alone pertaines Againe if Soules doe other Soules beget 'T is by themselves or by the Bodies power If by themselves what doth their working let But they might Soules engender every houre If by the Body how can wit and will Joyne with the Body onely in this act Since when they do their other works fulfil They from the Body do themselves abstract Againe if Soules of Soules begotten were Into each other they should change and move And change and motion still corruption beare How shall we then the Soule immortall prove If lastly Soules did generation use Then should they spread incorruptible seed What then becomes of that which they doe loose When th' acts of generation doe not speed And though the Soule could cast spirituall seed Yet would she not because she never dies For mortall 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 given Their spirits and ours are of one substance fram'd And have one Father even the Lord of Heaven Who would at first that in each other thing The earth

Because at first she doth the earth benold And onely this materiall world she viewes At first our 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 celestiall wings Yet under heaven she cannot light on ought That with her heavenly nature doth agree She cannot rest she cannot fix her thought She cannot in this world contented be For who did ever yet in honour wealth Or pleasure of the Sense contentment find Who ●ver●ea●●d to wish when he had health Or having wisdome was not vext in mind Then as a Bee which ammong weeds doth fall Which seem sweet flowers with lustre fresh and gay She lights on that and this and tasteth all But pleasd with none doth rise and sore away So when the Soule finds here no true content And like Noahs Dove can no sure sooting take She doth returne from whence she first was sent And flyes to him that first her wings did make Wit seeking truth from cause to cause ascends And never rests till it the first attaine Will seeking good finds many middle ends But never stayes till it the last do gaine Now God the Truth and first of Causes is God is the last good end which lasteth still Being Alpha and Omega nam'd for this Alpha to Wit Omega to the will Sith then her heavenly kind she doth bewray In that to God she doth directly move And on no mortail thing can make her stay She cannot be from hence but from aboue And yet this first true cause and last good end She cannot hear so well and truely see For this perfection she must yet attend Till to her maker she espoused be As a Kings daughter being in person sought Of diverse Princes which 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 Forraigne Emperour Whom of great worth and power she hears to be If she be woo'd but by Embassadour Or but his Letters or his picture see For well she knowes that when she shall be brought Into the Kingdome where her Spouse doth raigne Her eyes shall see what she conceiv'd in thought Himself his state his glory and his traine So while the Virgin Soule on earth doth stay She woo'd and tempted is ten thousand wayes By these great powers which on the earth bear sway The wisedome of the world wealth pleasure praise With these sometime she doth her time beguile These do by fits her phantasie possesse But she distaits them all within a while And in the sweetest finds a tediousnesse But if upon the worlds Almighty King She once do fix her humble loving thought Which by his picture drawne in every 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 ravisht thought is such At almost here she with her blisse doth meet But when in Heaven she shall his Essence see This is her soveraigne good and perfect blisse Her longings wishings hopes all finisht be Her joyes 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 For this the better Soules do oft despise The Bodies d●ath and do it oft desire For when on ground the burthened ballance lyes The empty part is listed up the higher FANCIE Apelike I all thinges imitate New proiects fashions I inuent Dreame-like I them vary-straite All Shapes to head harte present But if the Bodies death the Soule should kill Then death must needs Against her nature be And were it so all Soules would flye 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 For though some things desire a change to see Yet never thing did long to turn to nought If then by death the Soule were quenched quite She could not thus against her nature run Since every senslesse thing by Natures light Doth preservation seek destruction shun Nor could the worlds best spirits so much erre 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 Againe if by the Bodies prop she stand If on the Bodies life her life depend As Meleagers on the fatall brand The Bodies good she onely would intend We should not find her halfe so 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 Doubtlesse all Soules have a surviving thought Therefore of death we think with quiet mind But if we think of being turn'd to nought A trembling horror in our Soules we find And as the better spirit when she doth bear A scorne of death doth shew she cannot dye So when the wicked Soule deaths face doth fear Even then she proves her owne Eternity For when deaths from 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 befall For natures law accuseth her within And saith 't is true that is affirm'd by all That after death there is a pain for sin Then she which hath been hoodwinckt from her birth Doth first her selfe within Deaths mirror see And when her Body doth returne to earth She first takes care how she alone shall be Whoever sees these irreligious men With burthen of a sicknesse weak and faint But hears them talking of Religion then And vowing of their Soules to every Saint When was there ever cursed Atheist brought Unto the Gibbet but he did adore That blessed power which he had set at nought Scorn'd and blasphemed all his life before These light vaine persons still are drunk and mad With surfetings and pleasures of their youth But at their deaths they are fresh sober sad Then they discerne and then they speak the truth If then all Soules both good and bad do teach With generall voyce that Soules can never dye T is not mans flattering glose but Natures speech Which like Gods Oracle can never lye Hence springs that universall strong desire Which all men have of Immortality Not some few spirits unto this thought aspire But all mens minds in this united be Then this desire of Nature is not vaine She covets not impossibilities Fond thoughts may fall into some idle braine But one Assent of all is ever wise From hence that generall care and study springs That lanching and progression of the mind Which all men have so much of future things As they no joy do in the present find From this desire that maine

desire proceeds Which all men have surviving fame to gaine By Tombes by Books by memorable Deeds For she that this desires doth still remaine 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 Hearts Tables we shall written find And though some impious wits do questions move And doubt if Soules immortall be or no That doubt their immortality doth prove Because they seem immortal things to know For he which Reasons on both parts doth bring Doth some things mortall some immortall call Now if himselfe were but a mortall thing He could not judge immortall things at all For when we judge our minds we mirrours make And as those glasses which material be Formes of materiall things do onely take For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see So when we God and Angles do conceive And think of truth which is eternal to Then do our minds immortal forms receive Which if they mortall 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 Soule mounts with so high a wing As of eternal things she doubts can move She proofs of her eternity doth bring Even when she strives the contrary to prove For even the thought of Immortality Being an act done without the Bodies aid Shewes that her selfe alone could move and be Although the body in the grave were laid And if her selfe she can so lively move And never need a forraigne help to take Then must her motion everlasting prove Because her selfe she never can forsake But though corruption cannot touch the mind By any cause that from it selfe may spring Some outward cause fate hath perhaps design'd Which to the Soule 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 fixt for all eternity When heaven and earth shall like a shadow passe Perhaps some thing repugnant to her kind By strong Antipathy the Soule 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 lye Yet neither troubleth or disturbeth either Perhaps for want of food the Soule may pine But that were strange since all things bad and good Since all Gods creatures mortall and divine Since God himselfe is her eternall 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 dye Yet violence perhaps the Soul destroyes As lightning or the Sun-beams dim the sight Or as a thunder-clap or Cannons noyse The power of hearing doth astonish quite But high perfection to the Soule it brings T' encounter things most excellent and high For when she viewes the best and greatest things They do not hurt but rather clear her eye But lastly Time perhaps at last hath power To spend her lively powers and quench her light But old God Saturne which doth all devour Doth cherish her and still augment her might Heaven waxeth old and all the Spheares above Shall one day faint and their swift motion stay And Time it selfe in time shall cease to move Onely the Soule survives and lives for aye Our Bodies every footstep that they make March towards death untill at last they dye Whether we work or play or sleep or wake Our life doth passe and with times wings doth flye But to the Soule 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 God doth full 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 But now these Epicures begin to smile And say my doctrine is more safe then true And that I fondly do my selfe beguile While these receiv'd opinions I ensue For what say they doth not the Soule wax old How comes it then that aged men do dote And that their braines grow sottish dull and cold Which were in youth the onely spirits of note What are not Soules 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 subtile Argument To such as think both Sense and Reason one To whom nor agent from the instrument Nor power of working from the work is knowne For if that region of the tender braine Wherein th' inward sense of phantasie should sit And th' outward senses gatherings should retaine By nature or by chance become unfit Either at first uncapable it is And so few things or none at all receives Or mar'd by accident which haps amisse And so amisse it every thing perceives Then as a cunning Prince that useth Spies If they returne no newes doth nothing know But if they make advertizement of Lyes The Princes Counsel all awry do go Even so the Soule to such a Body knit Whose inward senses undisposed be And to receive the formes of things unfit Where nothing is brought in can nothing see But if a Phrensie do possesse the braine It so disturbs and blots the formes of things As phantasie proves altogether vaine And to the wit no true relation brings Then doth the wit admitting all for true Build fond conclusions on those idle grounds Then doth it flie the good and ill pursue Beleeving all that this false Spie propounds But purge the humours and the rage appease Which this distemper in the fancy wrought Then will the wit which never had disease Discourse and judge discreetly as it ought Then these defects in Senses Organs be Not in the Soule or in her working might She cannot loose her perfect power to see Though mists clouds do choke her window light The Soule in all hath one Intelligence Though too much moisture in an Infants braine And too much drinesse in an old mans sense Cannot the prints of outward things retaine Then doth the Soule want work and idle sit And this we childishnesse and dotage call Yet hath she then a quick and active wit If she had stuffe and tools to work withall As a good Harper stricken far in years Into whose cunning hands the Gout doth fall All his old Crotchets in his braine he bears But on his Harp playes ill or not at all Then dotage is no

weaknesse of the mind But of the Sense for if the mind did wast In all old men we should this wasting find When they some certaine terme of years had past But most of them even to their dying hour Retaine a mind more lively quick and strong And better use their understanding power Then when their brains were warm and limbs were young Yet say these men if all her Organs dye Then hath the Soule no power her powers to use So in a sort her powers extinct do lye When unto act she cannot them reduce And if her powers be dead then what is she For since from every thing some powers do spring And from those powers some acts proceeding be Then kill both power and act and kill the thing Doubtles the bodies death when once it dies The instruments of sense and life doth kill So that she cannot use those faculties Although their root restin her substance still But as the body living wit and will Can judge and chuse without the bodies aid Though on such objects they are working still As through the bodies Organs are conveyd So when the body serves her turne no more And all her Senses are extinct and gone She can discourse of what she learn'd before In heavenly contemplations all alone And though the Instruments by which we live And view the world the bodies death to kill Yet with the body they shall all revive And all their wonted offices fulfill But how till then shall she her selfe imploy 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 Soules which nothing get Or what do those which get and cannot keep Like Buckets bottomlesse which all out let Those Soules for want of exercise must sleep See how mans Soule against it selfe 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 mothers talking heare That in short time they shall come forth from thence Would fear their birth more then our death we feare 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 faire world they shal be brought Where they shal see the earth the sea the sky The glorious Sun and all that God hath wrought That there ten thousand dainties they shal meet Which by their mouths they shal with pleasure take Which shal be cordial too aswel as sweet And of their little limbs tall bodies make This would they think a fable even as we Do think the story of the golden age Or as some sensual spirits amongst us be Which hold the world to come a faigned stage Yet shall these infants after find all true Though then thereof they nothing could conceive Assoon as they are borne the world they view And with their mouths the Nurses milk receive So when the Soule is borne for death is nought But the Soules birth and so we should it call Ten thousand things she sees beyond her thought And in an unknown manner knowes them all Then doth she see by Spectacles no more She hears not by report of double spies Her selfe in instants doth all things explore For each thing present and before her lyes But still this Crew with Questions me pursues If Soules deceasd say they still living be Why do they not return to bring us newes Of that strange world where they such wonders see The Soule hath here on earth no more to do Then we have businesse in our mothers womb What child doth covet to returne thereto Although all children first from thence do come And doubtlesse such a Soule as up doth mount And doth appear before her Makers face Holds this vile world in such a base account As she looks down and scorns this wretched place But such as are detruded downe to Hell Either for shame they still themselves retire Or tyed in chaines they in close Prison dwell And cannot come although they much desire Well well say these vaine spirits though vain it is To think our Soules to heaven or hel do go Politick men have thought it not amisse To spread this lye to make men vertuous so Do you then think this moral vertue good I think you do even for your private gain For Common-wealths by vertue ever stood And common good the private doth contain Oh how can that be false which every tongue Of every mortal man affirmes 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 knowne And to the Cannibal and Tartar is None that acknowledge God or providence Their Soules eternity did ever doubt For all Religion takes her root from hence Which no poor naked Nation lives without If death do quench us quite we have great Wrong Since for our service all things else were wrought That Dawes Trees and Rocks should last so long When we must in an instant passe to nought But blest be that great power that hath us blest With longer life then heaven or earth can have Which hath enfusd into one mortal brest Immortal powers not subject to the grave For though the Soule do seem her grave to bear And in this world is almost buried quick We have no cause the bodies death to fear For when the shel is broke ou● comes a Chick For as the Soules Essential powers are three The quickning power the power of Sense and Reason Three kinds of life to her designed be Which perfect these three powers in their due season The fi●st life in the mothers womb is spent Where she her nursing power doth onely use Where when she finds defects of nourishment Sh'expels her body and this world she viewes This we call Birth but if the Child could speake He Death would call it and of nature plaine Tha she would thrust him out naked and weak And in h●s passage pinch him with such paine Yet out he comes and in this world is plac't Where all his Senses in perfection be Where he finds flowers to smel and truits to tast And sounds to hear and sundry formes to see When he hath past some time upon this 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 practise make Then doth th' aspiring Soule the body leave Which we call death but were it known to all What life our Soules do by this death receive Men would