Concerning the Truth of Christian Religion, Chapter 14

Concerning the Truth of Christian Religion · Chapter 14

p. 225The xiiij Chapter.

That the Soule of Man is immortall, or dyeth not.

HIthertoo I hauehave treated of the world that is to be conceiued in vnderstanding, and of the sensible World (as the Platonists tearme them) that is to say, of God and of this World. Now followeth the examining of the Little World (as they terme it) that is to say, of man. Concerning God, we hauehave acknowledged him to be a Spirit: and as touching the World, we hauehave found it to be a body. In man wee hauehave an abridgment of both,Man is both Soule & body. namely of God in respect of Spirit, and of the World in composition of body, as though the Creator of purpose to set forth a mirror of his woorks, intended to bring into one little compasse both the infinitenesse of his owne nature, and also the hougenesse of the whole world together. Wee see in mans body a Woonderfull mixture of the fower Elements, the veynes spreading forth like Riuers to the vttermost members; as many instruments of sence, as theere be sensible natures in the world; a greate nomber of sinewes, Fleshstrings, and knitters; a Head by speciall priuiledge Directed vp too Heauenward; & Hands seruing to all maner of seruices. Whatsoeuer he is that shall consider no more, but onelyonly this instrument, without life, without sence, and without mouing; cannot but think verily that it is made to verie greate purpose; and he must needes krie out as Hermes or as the Sarzin Abdala doth, that man is a miracle which farre surmounteth, not only these Lower Elements, but also the verie Heauen and all the ornaments thereof. But if he could (as it were out of himself) behold this body receiuing life, and entering into the vse of all his motions with such forewardnesse, hands bestirring themselues so nimbly and after so sundrie fashions, and the Senses vttering their force so farre of, without stirring out of their place: think you not that he would be woonderfully rauished, and so much more woonder at the sayd life mouing and sence, than at the body, as he woondered afore at the body, to behold the excellencie of the proportion thereof aboue the masse of some stone? For p. 226what comparison is there betweene a Lute and a Luteplayer, or betweene a dumb instrument and him that maketh it to sound? What would he say then if he could afterward see how the same man being now quickned atteyneth in one moment from the one side of the earth to the other without shifting of place; descending downe to the centre of the world, and mounting vp aboue the outtermost circle of it both at once; present in a thousand places at one instant, imbracing the whole without touching it; kreeping vponupon the earth, and yet conteyning it; beholding the Heauens from beneath, and beeing aboue the Heauens of Heauens both at once? Should hee not be compelled to say, that in this sillie body there dwelleth a greater thing than the body, greater than the earth, yea greater than the whole world togither? Then let vsus say with Plato, that man is dubble; outward, and inward. The outward man is that which we see with our eyes, which forgoeth not his shape whē it is dead, no more than a Lute forgoeth his, shape when the Luteplaier ceasseth from making it to sound, howbeit that both life, mouing, sence, and reason be out of it. The inward man is the Soule, and that is properly the very man; which vseth the body as an instrument; whereunto though it be vnited by the power of God, yet doth it not remoue when the body ronneth. It seeth when the eyes be shut, and sometymes seeth not when the eyes be wyde open: It traueleth while the body resteth, and resteth when the body traueleth; that is to say, it is able of it self to parforme his owne actions, without the help of the outward man, wheras on the contrarie part the outward without the help of the inward that is to wit, the body without the presence of the Soule, hath neither sence, mouing, life, no nor continewance of beeing. In the outward man we hauehave a Counterfet of the whole world, and if ye rip them both vp by percelmeale, ye shal find a woonderfull agreement betwixt them. But my purpose in this booke is not to treate of the things that perteyne peculiarly to the body.

In the inward man wee hauehave a summe of whatsoeuer life sence and mouing is in all creatures, and moreouer an Image or rather a shadowe (for the Image is defaced by our sinne) of the Godhead it selfe. And that is the thing which wee hauehave to examine in this Chapter. In Plants, we perceyue that besides their bodies which wee see, there is also an inward vertue which wee see not, whereby they liue, growe, bud, and beare fruite: which vertue wee call the quickening Soule, and it maketh them to differ from Stones and p. 227Mettalles, which hauehave it not. In sensitiue liuing things, we finde the selfesame vertue, which worketh while they sléepe & are after a sort as the Plants; and therewithall we finde another certeine vertue or power which seeth, heareth, smelleth, tasteth, and feeleth; which also in many of them doth hoord vp the things brought in by the sences; which maner of power the Plants are voyd of. This do we terme the sensitiue Soule, because the effects thereof are discerned and executed by the Sences.In Man are three Abilitie… of Soule. In man we hauehave both the quickning and the Sensitiue, the former vttering it selfe in the nourishing and increasing of him, and the later in the subtilitie of sence and imagination, wherethrough he is both Plant and Beast together. But yet moreouer wee see also a Mynd which considereth and beholdeth, which reapeth profite of the things that are brought in by the Sences, which by his séeing conceiueth that which it seeth not; which of that which is not, gathereth that which is; & finally which pulleth a man away both from the earth & from al sensible things, yea and (after a sorte) from himself too. This doe we call the reasonable Soule, and it is the thing that maketh man to bée man, (and not a Plant or a brute Beast as the other two doe,) and also to bee the Image or rather a shadowe of the Godhead, in that (as we shal say hereafter) it is a Spirit that may hauehave continuance of being alone by it selfe without the bodie. And by the way, whereas I say that the inward man hath a quickening power as a Plant hath, a sensitiue power as a Beast hath, and a power of vnderstanding wherby he is a man: my meaning is not that he hath thrée Soules but onelyonly one Soule; that is to wit, that like as in the brute Beast the sensitiue Soule comprehendeth the quickening Soule; so in man the reasonable Soule comprehendeth both the sensitiue and the quickening, and executeth the offices of them all thrée, so as it both liueth, feeleth, and reasoneth euen as well and after the same maner, as the mynd of a man may intend to his owne householdmatters, to the affayres of the Commonweale, and to heauenly things all at once. Or to speake more fitly, these three degrees of Soules are thrée degrées of life, whereof the second excéedeth and conteyneth the first, and the third excéedeth and conteyneth both the other two. The one, without the which the bodie cannot liue, is the Soule or life of the Plant, and is so tyed to the bodie, that it sheweth not it selfe in any wise out of it. The second, which cannot liue without the bodie, is the Soule or life of the Beast; which doth well vtter foorth his power and force abroad, but yet not otherwise p. 228than by the members and instruments of the bodie whereunto it is tyed. The third, which can of it selfe liue and continue without the bodie, but not the bodie without it, is the Soule of man, which giueth life inwardly to all his parts, sheweth foorth his life abroad in the perceyuing of all things subiect to Sence, and reteyneth still his force (as shalbe sayd hereafter) yea and increaseth it, euen when the strength of the bodie and the very liuelinesse of the sences fayle. And in very déede, ye shall see a man forgoe all his sences one after another as the instruments of them decay, and yet hauehave still both life and reason vnappayred. The cause whereof is, that some of the instruments of life and sence doe fayle, but the life it selfe which quickeneth them fayleth not. And therefore the Beast forgoeth not life in losing sence, but he vtterly forgoeth sence in forgoing life. And that is because life is the ground of the abilities of sence, and the sensitiue life is a more excellent life than the quickening life, as wherein those powers and abilities are as in their roote. To bee short, he that bereaueth man or beast of the vse of Sences, or man of the right vse of reason, doth not thereby bereaue him of life; but he that bereaueth the beast or the outward man of their life, doth therewithall bereaue them of sence and reason. Therefore it is a most sure argument, that the Soule which causeth a beast to liue, and the Soule that causeth it to hauehave sence, are both one, that is to wit, one certeyne kynd of life more liuely and more excellent than the life that is in Plants. And likewise that the Soule which causeth man to liue, to hauehave sence, and to reason, is but one, that is to wit, one certeyne kynde of life more excellent, more liuely, and of further reach, than the life of the Beast. But like as sence is as it were the forme or Selfebeing (if I may so terme it) of the life of a beast; so is reason or vnderstanding the very forme and Selfebeing of the Soule of man; and (to speak properly) it is the Soule or life of the Soule, like as the apple of our eye is the very eye of our eye. And in very déede, when the mynd is earnestly occupied, the sences are at a stay; and when the sences are ouerbusied, the nourishment and digestion is hindered; and contrary wise: which thing could not come to passe if the Soule were any mo than one substance, which by reason that it is but one, cannot vtter his force alike in all places at once, but yéeldeth the lesse care one where so long as it is earnestly occupyed anotherwhere. In this Soule of man (which yet notwithstanding is but one) the diuersitie of the powers and abilities is very apparant. The quickning power doth nourish, increase p. 229and mainteyne vsus; and Reason and Sence meddle not therewith, neyther hauehave they power to impeach the working thereof. The trueth whereof appeareth in this, that those things are best done when our mynd is at rest, and our sences are asléepe; insomuch that oftentymes we forgo the sence and mouing of some parts by some Rhewme or some Palsey, and yet the same parts ceasse not to bee nourished still. Also, the sensitiue life seeth and perceiueth a farre of, yea oftentimes without setting of the mynd therevpon, or without considering what the Sence conceyueth. Some men which hauehave but weake Sences, hauehave very quicke vnderstanding; and likewise on the contrary part. Agayne, some fall into a consumption, which …ant not the perfect vse of their Sences. Sometyme the reasonable part is so earnestly bent and occupyed about the things that i… liketh of, that by the increasing of it self, it hurteth and diminisheth the part that quickeneth. Also it standeth in argument against the Sences, and reproueth them of falshoode, and concludeth contrary to their information. And it may bee that the man which hath his digestion perfect and his Sences sound, hath not his wit or reason sound in like case. Now, were the Soule but onelyonly one abilitie, it could not be so. But now is the same diuided manifestly into wit or vnderstanding, and will; the one seruing to deuise, and the other to execute. For we vnderstand diuers things which we will not, and wee will diuers things which wee vnderstand not: which contrary operations cannot be attributed both to one power. Neuerthelesse, the vniting of all these powers together is with such distinctnesse, and the distinguishing of them is with such vnion, that ordinarily they méete all together in one selfesame action, the one of them as readily (by all likelyhood) as the other, howbeit that eueryevery of them doth his owne worke seuerally by himselfe, and one afore another as in respect of their obiects.

Thus hauehave we thrée sorts of men, according to the thrée powers or abilities of the inwarde man. Namely the earthly man, which like the Plant myndeth nothing but sléeping and féeding, making al his sences and al his reason to serue to that purpose, as in whom the eare of this present life onelyonly, hath deuoured and swallowed vp his sences and vnderstanding. The Sensuall man (as S. Paule himself termeth him,) who is giuen wholly to these sensible things imbacing and casting downe his reason so farre, as to make it a bondslaue to his sences and the pleasures and delights therof: And the reasonable man, who liueth properly in spirite and mynd, who p. 230entereth into himselfe to knowe himselfe, and goeth out of himselfe to behold God; making this life to serue to the atteynment of a better, and vsing his Sences but as instruments and seruants of his reason. After as any of these thrée powers doe reigne and beare sway in man, that is to wit, after as a man yéeldeth himselfe more to one thā to another of them; so becommeth he like vntounto the Spirites, the brute Beastes, or Plants, yea and the very Blockes and Stones. But it is our disposition euen by leynd, to be caryed away by our corrupt nature, and by the obiects which hemme vsus in on all sides; but as for against our nature yea or beyond our nature, our nature is not able to doe any thing at all.

Now, it is not enough for vsus to knowe that wee hauehave a Soule whereby wee liue, feele, and vnderstand, and which beeing but one hath in it selfe alone so many sundrie powers or abilities: for it will be demaunded of vsus by and by what this Soule properly is. And soothly if I should say, I cannot tell what it is, I should not belye my selfe a whit; for I should but confesse myne owne ignorance, as many great learned men hauehave done afore me. And I should doe no wrong at all to the Soule it selfe; for sith wee cannot deny… the effects thereof, the lesse that we be able to declare the nature and béeing therof, the more doth the excellencie therof shine forth. Againe, it is a playne case, that no thing can comprehend the thing that is greater than it selfe. Now, our Soule is after a sort lesse than it selfe, inasmuch as it is wrapped vp in this body, in like wise as the man that hath gyues and fetters on his féete, is after a sort weaker than himselfe. Neuerthelesse, let vsus assay to satiffye such demaunds as well as wee can. And forasmuch as it is the Image of God, not only in respect of the gouernment and maintenance of the whole world, but also euen in the very nature thereof: as wee sayd heretofore when we spake of the nature of GOD, if we cannot expresse or conceyue what it is, let vsus at leastwise be certified what it is not. First of all, that the Soule and the Body be not both one thing,The Body and the Soule be not one selfsame thing. but two very farre differing things, and also that the Soule is no part of the body, it appeareth of it self without further profe. For if the Soule were y^e body or a part of the body, it should grow with the body as the other parts of the body doe, and the greater that the body were, the greater also should the Soule be. Nay, contrarywise, the body increaseth to a certeyne age and then stayeth; after which age is commonly the tyme tha the Soule doth most grow, and those that are strongest of mynd are commonly weakest p. 231of body, and the Soule is seene to be full of liuelinesse in a languisshi…g body, and to growe the more in force, by the decay of the bodie. The Soule then groweth not with the body, and therefore it is not the body, nor any part of the body. And whereas I speake of growing in the Soule, by growing I meane the profiting therof in power and vertue, as the body groweth in greatnesse by further inlarging. Againe, if the Soule were the body, it should lose her strength and soundnesse with the body, so as the maimed in bodie should therewith feele also a mayme in his vnderstanding as well as in his members: whosoeuer were sick of any disease, should also bee sicke in his reason: he that …impeth or halteth, should therewith ha… in Soule also: the blynd mans Soule should bee blynd, and the lame mans Soule should be lame. But we see cōtrariwise, that the maymed and the sicke, the Cripples and the blynd, hauehave their Soule whole and sound, and their vnderstanding perfect and cléeresighted in it selfe. To be short, many a man dyeth whose body is sound, and differeth not a whit in any part from that it was whē it was aliue, and yet notwithstanding, both life, mouing, sence, and vnderstanding are out of it. Let vsus say then that in the body there was a thing which was not of the body, but was a farre other thing than the body.

Some wilfull person will obiect here, that the force and strength of the Soule groweth with the body, as appeare…h in this that a man growen wil remoue that which a child cannot, and that a child of two yéeres old will goe, which thing a babe of two moneths old cannot doe. But he should consider also, that if the selfesame man or the selfesame child should hauehave a mischaunce in his legge or in his arme, he should thereby forgoe the strength and mouing thereof, whereas yet notwithstanding his Soule should hauehave her former force and power still to moue the other as she did afore. Therefore it is to be sayd, not that y^e childs Soule is growen or strengthened by tyme; but rather that his sine wes are dried and hardened which the soule vseth as strings and instruments too moue withall and therefore when age hath loosened and weakened them, a man hath neede of a staffe to help them with, although he hauehave as good a wil to runne as he had when he was yoong. The soule then which moueth thē all at one becke, hath the selfsame power in infancie which it hath in age, and the same in age which it hath in the prime of Youth: and the fault is only in the instrument, which is vnable to execute the operations thereof: like as the cunning of a Luteplaier p. 232is not diminished by y^e moystnesse or slacknesse of his Lute strings, nor increased by the ouer high streyning and tytght standing of them; but in deede in the one hee cannot shewe his cunning at all, and in the other he may shewe it more or lesse. Likewise the spéech of Children commeth with their teeth, howbeit that the speech doe manifestly v…ter it self first, in that they prattle many things which they cannot pronounce: and in old men it goeth away agein with their teeth, and yet their cloquence is not abated thereby. Asfor Demosthenes, although hee surmounted all the Orators of his tyme, yet were there some letters which he could not pronounce. GiueGive vntounto old age or vntounto infancie the same sinewes and teeth, and as able and lustye Limmes and members as youth hath; and the actions which the soule doeth with the body and by the body, I meane so farre foorth as concerne the abilities of sence and lyuelynes, shalbe performed as well in one age as in another. But haddest thou as greate indifferencie in iudging of the force and power of thyne owne soule, as of the cunning of a Luteplayer, (I say not by the nimblenes of his fingars which are perchaunce knotted with the gout, but by the playne and sweete Harmonie of his Tabulatorie as they terme it, which maketh thée to déeme him to hauehave cunning in his head, although hee can no more vtter it with his hanos,) so as thou wouldest consider how thou hast in thy selfe a desire to go, though they féete be not able to beare the; a discretion to iudge of things that are spoken; though thyne eyes cannot conuey it vntounto thee; a sound eloquence, though for want of thy teeth thou cannot well expresse it; and which is aboue all the rest, a substantiall quicke and heauenly reason, euen when thy body is most earthly and drooping. Thou wouldest soone conclude that the force and power of quickening, moouing, and perceyuing, is whole and sound in thy Soule, and that the default is altogether in thy body. Insomuch that if she had a newe body and new instruments giuen vntounto her, she would bee as …ustie and chéerely as euer she was, and that the more she perceyueth the body to decay, the more she laboreth to retyre into her self, which is a playne proofe of that she is not the body nor any part of the body, but the very life and inworker of the body.

And sith it is so,That the Soule is a substance. there néedeth no long skanning whether the Soule be a substance or a qualitie. For, seeing that qualities hauehave no being but in another thing than themselues; the life which causeth another thing to be, cannot be a qualitie. Forasmuch then as p. 233the Soule maketh a man to be a man, who otherwise should be but a Carkesse or Caryon: doubtlesse (vnlesse we will say that the only difference which is betwixt a man and a dead Carkesse, is but in accidents) we must néedes graunt that the Soule is a forming substance and a substantiall forme, yea and a most excellent substance infinitly passing the outward man; as which by the power and vertue thereof causeth another thing to hauehave being, and perfecteth the bodily substance which séemeth outwardly to hauehave so many perfections.

But herevpon inseweth another controuersie, whether this substance bee a bodily or an vnbodily substance: which case requireth somewhat longer examination. Soothly, if we consider the nature of a body, it hath certeine measurings, and comprehendeth not any thing which is not proportioned according to the greatnesse and capacitie thereof. For, like as it selfe must bee fayne to hauehave a place in another thing; so must other things occupye some certeyne place in it; by reason whereof it commeth to passe, that things can hauehave no place therein if they be greater than it, without anoying the one the other. To be short, if the thing bee lesse than the body that conteyneth it, the whole body shall not conteyne it, but only some part thereof: And if it be greater, then must some part thereof néedes be out of it: for there is no measuring of bodies but by quātitie. Now we see how our Soule comprehendeth heauen and earth,Bodilesse. without anoying eyther other; and likewise tyme past present and to come, without troubling one another; and finally innumerable places, persons, and Townes, without combering of our vnderstanding. The great things are there in their full greatnesse, and the small things in their vttermost smalnesse; both of them whole and sound, in the Soule whole and sound, and not by parcelmeale or only but in part of it. Moreouer, the fuller it is, the more it is able to receiue; the moe things that are touched in it, the moe it still coueteth; and the greater the things bee, the fitter is shee to receyue them euen when they be at the greatest. It followeth therfore that the Soule (which after a sort is infinite) cannot be body. And so much y^e lesse can it so bee, for that whereas it harboreth so many and so great things in it, it selfe is lodged in so small a body. Agayne, as a thousand diuers places are in the Soule or Mynde without occupying any place; so is the Mynd in a thousand places without chaunging of place; & that erewhiles not by succession of tyme, nor by turnes, but oftentymes altogether at one instant. Bid thy Soule or Mynd p. 234goe to Constantinople, and foorthwith to turne backe agayne to Rome, and straight way to be at Paris or Lyons: Bid it passe thorowe America, or to go about Affricke; and it dispatcheth all these iourneys at a trice: looke whether soeuer thou directest it, there it is; and or euer thou callest it backe, it is at home agayn. Now, is there a body that can bee in diuers places at once, or that can passe without remouing, or that can moue otherwise than in tyme, yea and in such tyme as (within a little vnderunder or ouer) is proportioned both to his pace, and to the length of the way which it hath to goe? Then is it certeine that our Soule is not a bodily substance; which thing appeareth so much the more plainly, in that being lodged in this body which is so mouable, it remoueth not with the body. Also it is a sure ground, that two bodies cannot mutually enter eyther into other, nor conteyne eyther other: but the greater must alway néedes conteyne, and the lesser must néedes bee conteyned. But by our Soules, we enter, not only eyther into others bodies, but also eyther into others mynds, so as wee comprehend eyther other by mutual vnderstanding, and imbrace either other by mutual louing. It followeth then that this substance which is able to receiue a bodilesse thing, can bee no body; and that so much the rather, for that the body which seemeth to hold it, conteyneth it not. Nay verely, this Soule of ours is so farre of from being a bodily substance, and is so manifestly a Spirit; that to lodge all things in it selfe, it maketh them all after a sort spirituall, and bereueth them of their bodies; and if there were any bodylinesse in it, it were vnable to enter into the knowledge of a bodie. So in a Glasse a thousand shapes are seene: but if the cléere of the Glasse had any peculiar shape of it owne, the Glasse could yéeld none of those shapes at all. Also all visible things are imprinted in the eye; but if the sight of the eye had any peculiar colour of it owne, it would be a blemish to the sight, so as it should eyther not see at all, or els all things should seeme like to that blemish. Likewise, whereas the Tongue is the discerner of all tastes; if it be not cléere but combered with humours, all things are of tast like to the humour, so as if it be bitter, they also be bitter; and if it be watrish, they be watrish too; yea and if it bee bitter, it can not iudge of bitternesse it self. That a thing may receyue al shapes, all colours, and all tastes; it behoueth the same to be cléere from all shapes, from all colour, and from all sauour of it owne. And that a thing may in vnderstanding knowe and conceiue all bodies, as our Soule doth, it behoueth the same to bée altogether bodylesse it self; p. 235for had it any bodylinesse at all, it could not receiue any body into it. If wée looke yet more néerely into the nature of a body, wée shall finde that no body receiueth into it the substantial forme of another body, without losing or altering his owne, ne passeth frō one forme into another, without the marring of the first; as is to bee seene in wood when it receyueth fire, in seedes when they spring foorth into bud, and so in other things. What is to be said then of mans soule, which receiueth and conceyueth the formes and shapes of al things without corrupting his owne, and moreouer becommeth the perfecter by the more receyuing? For the more it receyueth, the more it vnderstandeth; and the more it vnderstandeth, the more perfect is it.

If it bee a bodily substance, from whence is it and of what mixture? If it be of the fower Elements, how can thei giuegive life, hauing no life of themselues? Or how can thei giuegive vnderstanding, hauing no sence? If it bee of the mixture of them, how may it bee sayd that of diuers things which hauehave no beeing of themselues, should bee made a thing that hath being? Or that of diuers outsides should bee made one body? or of diuers bodies, one Soule? or of diuers deaths, one life? or of diuers darknesses, one light? Nay rather, why say wee not that he which beyond nature hath made the mixture of these bodies, hath for the perfecting of our body, breathed a Soule also into the body? To be short, the propertie of a body is to suffer, and the propertie of our Soule is to doe. And if the body bée not put foorth by some other thing than it selfe, it is a very blocke; wheras the mynd that is in our Soule ceasseth not to stirre vp and downe in it selfe, though it hauehave nothing to moue it from without. Therefore it is to bee concluded by these reasons and by the like, that our Soule is a bodylesse substance, notwithstanding that it is vnited to our body.

And herevpon it followeth also,Vnmateriall. that our Soule is not any material thing, forasmuch as matter receyueth not any forme or shape but according to his owne quantitie, and but onelyonly one forme at once, whereas our Soule receyueth all formes without quantitie, come there neuer so many at once or so great. Agayne, no matter admitteth two contrary formes at once; but our Soule contrarywise comprehendeth and receyueth them together, as fire and water, heate and cold, white and blacke; and not only together, but also the better by the matching and laying of them together. To bée short, seeing that the more wee depart from matter, the more wée p. 239vnderstand; surely nothing is more contrary to the substance of ou… Soule, than is the nature of matter. Furthermore, if this reasonable Soule of ours is neither a bodily nor a materiall thing, nor depending vponupon matter in the best actions therof: then must it néedes be of it self, and not procéede eyther from body or from matter. For what doth a body bring foorth but a body; and matter but matter; and materiall but materialles? And therefore it is an vnmateriall substance, which hath being of it selfe.

But let vsus see whether the same bee corruptible and mortall or no.The Soule hath beeing of it sel…. Plutark in his tre…y…e why God deferreth the punishment of the wicked: Vncorruptible. Soothly, if Plutarke bee to beléeued, it is in vayne to dispute thereof. For he teacheth, that the doctrine of Gods prouidence, and the immortalitie of our Soules are so linked together, that the one is as an appendant to the other. And in very déed, to what purpose were the World created, if there were no body to behold it? Or to what ende behold wee the Creator in the world, but to serue him? And why should wee serue him vppon no hope? And to what purpose hath he indewed vsus with these rare giftes of his, which for the most part doe but put vsus to payne and trouble in this life: if we perish like the brute Beast or the Hearbes, which knowe him not? Howbeit, for the better satisfying of the sillie Soules which go on still like witlesse Beastes, without taking so much leysure in all their life, as once to enter into themselues; let vsus indeuer héere by liuely reasons to paynt out vntounto thē againe their true shape, which they labour to deface with so much filthinesse. The Soule of man (as I hauehave sayd afore) is not a body, neyther doth it increase or decrease with the body: but contrarywise the more the body decaieth, the more doth the vnderstanding increase; and the néerer that the body draweth vntounto death, the more fréely doth y^e mynd vnderstand; and the more that the body abateth in flesh, the more woorkfull is the mynd. And why then should we think, that the thing which becommeth the stronger by the weakenesse of the body, and which is aduaunced by the decay of the body, should returne to dust with the body? A mans Sences fayle because his eyes fayle, and his eyes fayle because the Spirits of them fayle: but the blynd mans vnderstanding increaseth, because his eyes are not busied: and the olde mans reason becommeth the more perfect by the losse of his sight. Therfore why say we not that the body fayleth the Soule, and not the Soule the body; and that the Glasses are out of the Spectacles but the eysight is still good? Why should we déeme the Soule to be forgone with the Sences? If the eye be the thing that séeth, and p. 237the eare the thing that heareth; why doe wee not see things dubble, and heare sounds dubble, seeing we hauehave two eyes and two eares? It is the Soule then that seeth and heareth; and these which wee take to be our sences, are but the instruments of our sences. And if when our eyes bee shut or pickt out, wee then beholde a thousand things in our mynd; yea and that our vnderstanding is then most quicksighted, when the quickest of our eysight is as good as quenched or starke dead: how is it possible that the reasonable Soule should bee tyed and bound to the sences? What a reason is it to say that the Soule dyeth with the sences, séeing that the true sences do then growe and increase, when the instruments of sence doe dye? And what a thing were it, to say that a Beast is dead, because he hath lost his eyes, when we our selues see that it liueth after it hath forgone the eyes? Also I hauehave prooued that the Soule is neither the body, nor an appertnance of the body. Sith it is so, why measure we that thing by the body, which measureth al bodies; or make that to dye with the body, whereby the bodies that dyed yea many hundred yéeres agoe, doe after a certeine maner liue still? Or what can hurt that thing, whom nothing hurteth or hindereth in the bodie? Though a man lose an arme, yet doth his Soule abide whole still. Let him forgoe the one halfe of his body, yet is his Soule as sound as afore: for it is whole in it selfe and whole in eueryevery part of it selfe, vnited in it felfe and in the owne substance, and by the force and power thereof it sheadeth it selfe into all parts of the body. Though the body rot away by péecemeale, yet abideth the Soule all one and vndiminished. Let the blud dreyne out, the mouing wex weake, the sences fayle, and the strength perish; and yet abideth the mynd neuerthelesse sound and liuely euen to the ende. Her house must bee pearced through on all sides, ere she bee discouraged; her walles must be battered doune ere she fall to fléeting; and she neuer forsaketh her lodging, till no roome be left her to lodge in. True it is that the brute Beastes forgo both life and action with their blud. But as for our Soule (if wee consider the matter well) it is then gathered home into it self; and when our sences are quenched, then doth it most of all labour to surmount it selfe: woorking as goodly actions at the tyme that the body is at a poynt to fayle it, yea and oftentymes farre goodlyer also, than euer it did during the whole lifetyme thereof. As for example, it taketh order for it selfe, for our houshold, for the Commonweale, and for a whole Kingdome; and that with more vprightnesse, godlynesse, wisedome, and moderation, p. 238than euer it did afore, yea and perchance in a body so forspe…, so bare, so consumed, so withered without and so putrified within, that whosoeuer lookes vponupon him sees nothing but earth, and yet to heare him speake would rauish a man vp to heauen, yea and aboue heauen. Now, when a man sees so liuely a Soule in so weake and wretched a body, may he not say as is said of the hatching of Chickens, that the shell is broken, but there commeth forth a Chicken?

Also let vsus sée what is the ordinary cause that things perish. Fire doth eyether goe out for want of nourishment, or is quenched by his contrary which is water. Water is resolued into aire by fire, which is his contrary. The cause why the Plant dyeth, is extremitie of colde or drought, or vnseasonable cutting, or vyolent plucking vp. Also the liuing wight dyeth through contrarietie of humours, or for want of foode, or by feeding vponupon some thing that is against the nature of it, or by outward vyolence. Of all these causes, which can we choose to hauehave any power against our Soule? I say against the Soule of man, which (notwithstanding that it be vnited to matter and to a bodie) is it selfe a substance vnbodily, vnmateriall, and only conceiuable in vnderstanding? The contrarietie of things? Nay, what can be contrarie to that which lodgeth the contraries alike equally in himselfe? which vnderstandeth the one of them by the other? which coucheth them all vnderunder one skill? and (to bee short) in whom the contrarieties themselues abandon their contrarietie, so as they doe not any more pursewe but insewe one another? Fire is hote, and water cold. Our bodies mislike these contraries, and are gréeued by them; but our mynd linketh them together without eyther burning or cooling it selfe; and it setteth the one of them against the other to knowe them the better. The things which destroy one another through the whole world, do mainteine one another in our mynds. Againe, nothing is more contrary to peace then warre is; and yet mans mynd can skill to make or mainteyne peace in preparing for warre, and to lay earnestly for warre in seeking or inioying of peace. Euen death it selfe (which dispatcheth our life) cannot bée contrary to the life of our Soule: for it seeketh life by death, and death by life. And what can that thing méete withall in the whole world, that may bee able to ouerthrowe it, which can inioyne obedience to things most contrary? What then? Want of foode? How can that want foode in the world, which can skill to feede on the whole world? Or how should that forsake foode, which the fuller it is, so much the hungryer it is; and the more it hath digested, the better p. 239able it is to digest? The bodily wight feedeth vppon some certeyne things, but our mynd feedeth vponupon all things. Take from it the sensible things, and the things of vnderstanding abyde with it still: bereaue it of earthly things, and the heauenly remayne abundantly. To be short, abridge it of all worldly things, yea and of the world it selfe, and euen then doth it feede at greatest ease, & maketh best chéere agréeable to his owne nature. Also the bodily wight filleth it selfe to a certeyne measure, and delighteth in some certeyne things. But what can fill our mynd? Fill it as full as ye can with the knowledge of things, and it is still eager and sharpe set to receyue more. The more it taketh in, the more it still craueth: and yet for al that, it neuer feeleth any rawnesse or lack of digestion. What shall I say more? discharge our vnderstanding from the mynding of it self, and then doth it liue in him and of him in whom all things doe liue. Againe, fill it with the knowledge of it selfe, and then doth it feele it self most emptie, and sharpest set vponupon desire of the other. Now then, can that dye or decay for want of foode, which cannot be glutted with any thing, which is nourished and mainteyned with all things, and which liueth in very déede vppon him by whom all the things which we wonder at here beneath are vphild?

And what els is vyolence, but a iustling of two bodies together? and how can there be any such betwéene a bodie and a spiritual substance? yea or of two spirits one against another, seeing that oftentymes when they would destroye one another, they vphold one an other? And if the Soule cannot be pushed at, neither inwardly nor outwardly: is there any thing in nature that can naturally hurt it? No: but it may perchaunce bee weakened by the very force of his encounter, as wee see it doth befall to our sences. For the more excellent and the more sensible the thing is in his kynd which y^e sence receiueth, so much the more also is the sence it self offended or gréeued therwith. As for example, the féeling, by fire; the taste, by harshnesse; the smelling, by sauours; the hearing, by the hideousnesse of noyse, whether it be of Thunderclappe or of the falling of a Riuer; and the sight, by looking vponupon the Sunne, vponupon Fyre, and vponupon all things that hauehave a glistering brightnesse. I omit, that in the most of these things, it is not properly the sence it selfe, but the outward instrument of sence only that is offended or hurt. But let vsus see if there be the like in our reasonable Soule. Nay, contrarywise the more of vnderstanding and excellencie that the thing is, the more doth it refresh and comfort our mynd. If it bee darke so as wee vnderstand p. 240it but by halues, it hurteth vsus not; but yet doth it not delight vsus. Nay, as we increase in vnderstanding it, so doth it like vsus the better; and the higher it is, the more doth it stirre vp the power of our vnderstanding, and (as ye would say) reache vsus the hande to drawe vsus to the atteynement thereof. As for them that are dimsighted, wee forbid them to behold the things that are ouerbright. But as for them that are of rawest capacitie, wee offer them the things that are most vnderstandable. When the sence beginneth to perceyue most sharply, then is it fayne to giuegive ouer, as if it felt the very death of it selfe. Contrarywise, when the mynd beginneth to vnderstand, then is it most desirous to hold on still. And whereof commeth that, but that our sences work by bodily instruments, but our mynd worketh by a bodilesse substance which néedeth not the helpe of the body. And seeing that the nature, the nourishment, and the actions of our Soule are so farre differing, both from the nature, nourishment, and actions of the body, and from al that euer is done or wrought by the bodie: can there be any thing more childish than to déeme our Soule to be mortal by the abating and decaying of our sences, or by the mortalitie of our bodies? Nay contrariwise it may be most soundly and substantially concluded therevpon, that mans Soule is of it owne nature immortall, seeing that all death as well vyolent as naturall commeth of the bodie and by the bodie.

Let vsus see further what death or corruption is.What is death It is (say they) a separating of the matter from his forme. And forasmuch as in man the Soule is considered to be the forme, and the bodie to be as the matter: the separation of the Soule from the bodie is cōmonly called Death. Now then, what death can there bee of the Soule, sith it is vnmaterial as I hauehave sayd afore, and a forme that abideth of it selfe? For (as one sayth) a man may take away the roundnesse or squarenesse from a table of Copper, because they hauehave no abyding but in y^e matter: but had thei such a round or square forme, as might hauehave an abyding without matter or stuffe wherein to be, out of doubt such forme or shape should continue for euer. Nay (which more is) how can that be the corrupter of a thing, which is the perfection thereof? The lesse corsinesse a man hath, the more hath he of reason and vnderstanding. The lesse our mynds be tyed to these bodily things, the more liuely and chéerefull be they. At a word, the full and perfect life thereof, is the full and vtter withdrawing thereof from the bodie and whatsoeuer the bodie is made of. All these things are so cléere as they néede no proofe. Now, we knowe that p. 241eueryevery thing worketh according to the proper being therof, and that the same which perfecteth the operations of a thing, perfecteth the being thereof also. It followeth therefore, that sith the separation of the body from the Soule, and of the forme from the matter, perfecteth the operation or working of the Soule (as I hauehave sayd afore) it doth also make perfect and strengthen the very being thereof, and therefore cannot in any wise corrupt it. And what els is dying but to be corrupted? And what els is corrupting, but suffering? And what els is suffering, but receyuing? And how can that which receyueth all things without suffering, receyue corruption by any thing? Fyre corrupteth or marreth our bodies, and we suffer in receyuing it. So doth also extreme colde: but if wee suffered nothing by it, it could not fréese vsus. Our sences likewise are marred by the excessiue force of the things which they light vponupon. And that is because they receyue and perceyue the thing that gréeueth them, and for that the maner of their behauing of themselues towards their obiects, is subiect to suffering. But as for the reasonable Soule, which receiueth al things after one maner, that is to wit, by way of vnderstāding, wherethrough it alway worketh & is neuer wrought into; how is it possible for it to corrupt or marre it selfe?

For what is the thing whereat our Soule suffereth aught in the substance thereof, I meane whereby the substance of our Soule is any whit impayred or hurt by mynding or conceyuing the same in vnderstanding? As little doth the fire hurt it as the ayre, and the ayre as the fire. As little hurt receiueth it by the frozen yce of Norwey, as by the scorching sands of Affricke. As little also doth vyce anoye it as vertue. For vyce and vertue are so farre of from incombering the substance of the Soule, that our mynd doth neuer conceiue or vnderstand them better, than by setting them together one against another. That thing therfore which doth no whit appayre it selfe, but taketh the ground of perfecting it self by all things, can not be marred or hurt by any thing.

Agein, what is death? The vttermost poynt of mouing, and the vttermost bound of this life. For euen in liuing we dye, and in dying we liue, and there is not that step which we set downe in this life, which dooth not continewally step foreward vntounto death, after the maner of a Dyall or a Clocke, which mounting vp by certeine degrées forgoeth his mouing in mouing from Minute to Minute. Take away mouing from a body, and it doth no more liue. Now let vsus sée if the soule also be caryed with the same mouing. If it be p. 242caryed with the same mouing, then doth it vndoutedly moue therewithall. Nay, contrariwise, whether the mynd rest, or whether it be buzyed about the proper operations thereof, it is not perceiued eyther by any panting of hart, or by any beating of pulses, or by any breathing of Lungs. It is then as a Shippe that carieth vsus away with it, whether we walke or sit still; the stickingfast whereof or the tying thereof to a poste, hindereth not our going vp and downe in it still. Ageine, if the Soule be subiect to the finall corruption of the body, then is it subiect to the alterations thereof also; and if it be subiect to the alterations, it is subiect to tyme also. For alterations or chaunges, are spices, or rather consequents of mouing, and moouings are not made but in tyme. Now man in respect of the body hath certeine full poynts or stoppes, at the which he receiueth manifest chaunges, and thereafter groweth or decayeth. But commonly where the decay of the body beginneth, there beginneth the cheef strength of the mynd! Houbeit that in some men, not only their chinnes are couered with downe, but also their beards become gray, whose minds for want of exercise, shewe no signe at all either of rypenesse or growing. Moreouer, time (as in respect of the body) cannot be called ageyne, but in respect of the mynd it is alwayes present. Yea and tyme perfecteth, accomplisheth, and increaseth our mynd, and after a sort reneweth and refressheth it from day to day, whereas contrarywise it forweareth, wassheth away and quight consumeth, both it self, and the body with the life thereof. It followeth then that the reasonable Soule is not subiect to time, nor consequently to any of the chaunges and corruptions that accompanye tyme. Nay we may say thus much more; That nothing in the whole World is nurrished with things better than itself; neither dooth any of them conteyne greater things than itself; But the things that are corruptible do liue of corruptible things, and cannot liue without corrupting them: as for example, beasts liue by herbes, men by beasts, and sofoorth. And therefore things which liue by vncorruptible things, and can so receiue and digest them, as to turne them into the nurrishment of their nature, and yet not corrupt them; are vncorruptible them selues to. Now the Soule of man, I meane the reasonable soule or mynd, conceiueth reason and trueth, and is fed and strengthened with them. And reason & trueth are things vnchaungeable, not subiect to tyme, place or alteration, but stedye, vnchaungeable, and euerlasting. For that twice two be fower, and that there is the same reason in the proportion of eight p. 243vntounto six that is of fower vntounto three, or that in a Tryangle, the three inner angles are equall with the too ryght angles; and such like; are truethes which neither yeeres nor thousands of yeeres can change; as true at this day, as they were when Euclyde first spake them. And so foorth of other things. It followeth then y^t the Soule comprehending reason and trueth, which are things free from corruption, cannot in any wyse be subiect to corruption.

Agein, who is he of all men that desireth not to be immortall? And how could any man desire it, if he vnderstoode not what it is? Or how could he be able to vnderstand it, vnlesse it were possible for him to atteyne vntounto it? Surely none of vsus coueteth to be beginninglesse, for none of vsus is so; neither can any of vsus be so. And as we cannot so be, so also can we not comprehend what it is. For who is he that is not at his witts end, but only to think vppon eternitie without beginning? On the contrarie part there is not so bace a mynd which coueteth not to liue for euer; insomuch that wheras we looke not for it by nature, we seeke to obteyne it by skill and pollicie, some by bookes, some by Images, and some by other deuices; and euen the grossest sort can well imagine in themselues what immortalitie is, and are able both to conceyue it and to beleeue it. Whence comes this, but that our soules beeing created cannot conceiue an euerlastingnesse without beginning, and yet neuerthelesse, that forasmuch as they be created immortal, they doe wel conceiue an immortalitie or euerlastingnes without end? And whereto serues this vniuersall desire, if it be not naturall? or how is it naturall if it be in vaine? and not onelyonly in vayne, but also too bring vsus to Hell and to Torment? Let vsus wade yet déeper. Who can dispute or once so much as doubt whether the Soule bee immortall or no, but he that is capable of immortalitie? And who can vnderstand what difference is betwixt mortall and immortall, but hee that is immortall? Man is able to discerne the difference betwéene that which is reason, and that which is not, and therevpon wee terme him reasonable. Whosoeuer would hold opinion that a man is not reafonable, should neede none other disproofe than his owne disputing thereof; for he would go about to proue it by reason. Man can skill to discerne the mortall natures from the immortall; And therefore we may well say he is immortall. For hee that should dispute to the contrarie, shalbe driuen to bring such reasons, as shall of themselues make him to prooue himselfe immortall. Thou sayest the Soule can not be immortall: and why? Because p. 244(sayest thou (that to be so, it would behoue it to woorke seuerally by it selfe frō the body, When thou thinkest that in thy mynd; consider what thy body dooth at the same tyme. Nay yet further, who hath taught thee so much of the immortall nature, if thou thy selfe be nor immortall? Or what worldly wight can say what the inwoorking of a reasonable wight is, but the wight which in it selfe hath the vse of reason?

Yet sayest thou still, if the Soule be immortall, it is frée from such and such passions. How enterest thou so farre into the Nature that is so farre aboue thée, if thou thy selfe beest mortall? All the reasons which thou alledgest against the immortalitie of the soule, doe feight directly to the proofe of it. For if thy reason mounted no higher than to the things that are mortall, thou shouldest knowe neither mortall nor immortall. Now it is not some one couetous man aboue all other, that desireth immortalitie, nor some one man excelling all others in wisdome, that comprehendeth it, but al mankind without exception. It is not then some one seuerall skill or some one naturall propertie, that maketh such difference betwéene man and man as we sée to be betwéene many, but rather one selfesame nature common to all men, whereby they be all ma… to differ from other liuing wights, which by no deede doe shewe any desire too ouerliue themselues, ne know how to liue, & therefore their Lyues doe vanish away with their bloud, and is extinguished with their bodies. If euer thou hast looked to dye, consider what discourse thou madest then in thy mynd: thou couldest neuer perswade thy conscience nor make thy reason to conceiue, that thy Soule should dye with the Body; but euen in the selfesame tyme when it disputeth ageinst it selfe, it shifteth it self I wote not how from all thy conclusions, and falleth too consider in what state it shall bee, and where it shal become when it is out of the body. The Epicure that hath disputed of it all his lyfe long, when he commeth to death, bequeatheth a yerely pension for the keeping of a yéerely feast on the day of his birth. I pray you to what purpose serue feastings for the birth of a Swyne, séeing he estéemeth himselfe to be no better than so? Nay what els is this, than a crying out of his Nature against him, which with one word confuteth all his vaine arguments? Another laboureth by all meanes possible, to blot out in himselfe the opinion of immortalitie; and bicause he hath liued wickedly in this world, he will néedes beare himselfe on hand, that there is no Iustice in the world tocome. But then is the tyme that his owne nature p. 245waketh, and starteth vp as it were out of the bottome of a water, and at that instant painteth againe before his eyes, the selfsame thing which he tooke so much paynes to deface. And in good sooth, what a number hauehave wee seene, which hauing bene despisers of all Religiō, hauehave at the hower of death bin glad to vow their Soules to any Sainct for releefe; so cléere was then the presence of the life to come before their eyes. I had leuer (sayd Zeno) to see an Indian burne himselfe chéerefully,Cleu…. lib. 1. than to heare al the Philosophers of the world discoursing of the immortalitie of the Soule; and in very déede it is a much stronger and better concluded argument. Nay then, let vsus rather say, I had leuer see an Atheist or an Epicure witnessing the immortalitie of the Soule, and willingly taking an honorable farewell of nature vponupon a Scaffold, than to heare all the Doctors of the world discoursing of it in their Pulpits. For whatsoeuer the Epicures say there, they speake it aduisedly and (as ye would say) fresh and fasting; wheras all that euer they hauehave spoken all their life afore, is to bee accounted but as the wordes of Drunkards, that is to wit, of men besotted and falne asléepe in the delights and pleasures of this world, where the Wine and the excesse of meate, and the vapors that fumed vp of them did speake, and not the men themselues. What shall I say more?Three lyues i… Man. I hauehave tolde you alreadie that in y^e inward man there are (as ye would say) thrée men; the liuing, the sensitiue, and the reasonable. Let vsus say therefore that in the same person there are thrée liues continued from one to another: namely, the life of the Plant, the life of the Beast, and the life of the Man or of the Soule. So long as a man is in his moothers wombe, he doth but only liue and growe; his Spirit seemeth to sléepe, and his sences seeme to bee in a slumber, so as he seemeth to bee no thing els than a Plant. Neuerthelesse, if ye consider his eyes, his eares, his tongue, his sences, and his mouings, you will easely iudge that he is not made to be for euer in that prison where he neither seeth nor heareth, nor hath any roome to walke in, but rather that he is made to come forth into an opener place, where he may hauehave what to see and behold, and wherewith to occupye al the powers which wee see to bee in him. As soone as he is come out, he beginneth to see, to féele, and to moue, and by little and little falleth to the perfect vsing of his limbes, and findeth in this world a peculiar obiect for eueryevery of them, as visible things for the eye, sounds for his hearing, bodily things for his feeling, and so forth. But besides all this, we finde there a mynd; which by the eyes as by windowes p. 246beholdeth the world, and yet in al the world finding not any one thing woorthy to rest wholly vppon, mounteth vp to him that made it; which mynd like an Empresse lodgeth in the whole world, and not alonly in this body; which by the sences (and oftentymes also without the sences) mounteth aboue the sences, and streyneth it self to goe out of it selfe, as a child doth to get out of his mothers wombe. And therefore wee ought surely to say, that this Mynd or Reason ought not to bee euer in prison. That one day it shall see cléerely, and not by these dimme and clowdie spectacles: That it shall come in place where it shall hauehave the true obiect of vnderstanding: and that he shall hauehave his life free from these fetters and from all the affections of the body. To be short, that as man is prepared in his moothers wombe to be brought foorth into the world; …o is he also after a sort prepared in this body and in this world, to liue in another world. We then vnderstand it, when by nature it behoueth vsus to depart out of the world. And what child is there which (if nature did not by her cunning driue him out,) would of himself come out of his Couert, or that commeth not out as good as forlorne and halfe dead; or that if he had at that tyme knowledge & spéech, would not call that death, which we call birth; and that a departure out of life, which we call the enterance into it? As long as we be there, we see nothing though our eyes be open. Many also doe not so much as stirre, except it bee at some sodaine scaring or some other like chaunce; and as for those that stirre, they knowe not that they hauehave eyther sence or mouing. Why then should wee thinke it straunge, that in this life our vnderstanding seeth so little, that many men do neuer mynd the immortall nature, vntill they be at the last cast, yea and some thinke not themselues to hauehave any such thing, howbeit that euen by so thinking they shew themselues to hauehave part thereof? And imagine wee that the vnborne babe hath not as much adoe by nature to leaue the poore skinne that he is wrapt in, as we hauehave hinderance in our sences and in our imprisoned reason, when we be at the poynt to leaue the goods and pleasures of this world, and the very flesh it selfe which holdeth vsus as in a graue? Or had the babe some little knowledge; would he not say that no life were comparable to the life where he then is, as we say there is no life to the life of this world wherein we be? Or would he not account the stage of our sences for a fable, as a great sort of vsus account the stage that is prepared for our Soules? Yes surely: and therfore let vsus conclude where wee began, namely that man is both inward and outward. p. 247In the outward man, which is the bodie, he resembleth the béeing and the proportion of all the parts of the world. And in the inner man he resembleth whatsoeuer ky…nd of life is in all things or in any thing that beareth life in the world. In his moothers wombe he liueth the life of a Plant, howbeit with this further, that he hath a certeyne commencement of sence and moouing which excéede the Plant, and doe put him in a readynesse to be indewed with Sences as a Beast is. In this life he hath sence and mouing in their perfection, which is y^t propertie of a sensitiue wight; but yet besides these, he hath also a beginning to reason and vnderstand, which are a beginning of another life such as the sensitiue wight hath not, & this life is to be perfected in another place. In the life to come he hath his actions free and full perfected, a large ground to worke vppon able to suffise him to the full, and a light to his vnderstanding in stead of a light to the eye. And like as in comming into this world, he came as it were out of another world; so in going yet into another world he must also goe out of this world. He commeth out of the first world into the second, as it were fayling in nourishment, but growing in strength vntounto mouing and sence: and he goeth out of the second into the third, fayling in sences and mouing, but growing in reason and vnderstāding. Now, seeing we call the passage out of the first world into the second a birth, what reason is it that we should call the passage out of the second into the third, a death? To be short, he that considereth how all the actions of mans mynd tend to the tyme to come, without possibilitie of staying vppon the present time, how pleasant and delightful soeuer it be: we may well discerne by them all, that his being (which in eueryevery thing (as sayth Aristotle) followeth the working thereof) is also wholly bent towards the tyme to come; as who would say this present life were vntounto it but as a narrowe grindle, on the further side whereof (as it were on the banke of some streame or running water,) he were to finde his true dwelling place and very home in déede.

But now is it tyme to sée what is sayd to the contrarie:Obiections. wherein we hauehave to consider eftsoones that which we spake of afore; namely that if all that euer is in vsus were transitorie and mortall, wee should not be so witty to examine the Immortalitie as we be: for of Contraries the skill is all one. If a man were not mortall, that is to say, if he had no lyfe, he could not dispute of the mortall lyfe; neither could he speake of the Immortal, if he himself also were not Immortall. Therefore let vsus goe backe retryue. Some man will p. 248say, that the Soule dyeth with the body, bycause the Soule and the body are but one thing, and he beléeueth that they be both but one, bycause he seeth no more but the body. This argument is all one with theirs, which denyed that there is any God, bycause they sawe him not. But yet by his dooings thou mayst perceyue that there is a God: discerne lykewise by the dooings of thy soule, that thou haste a Soule. For in a dead body thou seest the same partes remayne, but thou séest not the same dooings that were in it afore. When a man is dead, his eye seeth nothing at all, and yet is there nothing chaunged of his eye: but whyle hee is aliue it séeth infinite things that are dyuers. The power then which séeth is not of the body. Yet notwithstanding how lyuely and quickesighted so euer the eye be; it séeth not it self. Woonder not therefore though thou hauehave a soule, and that the same soule sée not it self. For if thyne eysight sawe itself; it were not a power or abilitie of séeing, but a visible thing: lykewise if thy Soule sawe itself, it were no more a Soule that is to say the woorker and quickener of the body, but a verie body, vnable to do any thing of it self, and a massie substance subiect to suffering. For we sée nothing but the body and bodily substances. But in this thou perceiuest somewhat els than a body, (as I hauehave sayd afore) that if thyne eye had any peculiar colour of it owne, it could not discerne any other colour than that. Seeing then that thou conceyuest so many dyuers bodies at once in imagination: néeds must thou hauehave a power in thee which is not a body. Be it (say they) that we hauehave a power of sence; yet hauehave we not a power of reason; for that which we call the power of reason or vnderstanding, is nothing but an excellencie or rather a consequence of sence, insomuch that when sence dyeth, the residew dyeth therewith also. Soothely in this which thou haste sayd, thou haste surmounted sence; which thing thou haddest not done, if thou haddest nothing in thee beyond sence. For whereas thou sayest, if the sence dye, the rest dyeth also; it is a reason that proceedeth from one terme to another, and it is a gathering of reasons which conclude one thing by another. Now the sences do in deede perceyue their obiects, but yet how lyuely so euer they be, they reason not. We sée a Smoake; so farre extendeth the sence. But if we inferre, therefore there must needes be fire, and thereupon seeke who was the kindler thereof: that surmounteth the abilitie of sence. We here a péece of Musicke; that may any beast do as well as we. But his hearing of it is but as of a bare sound; whereas our hearing therof is as of p. 249an harmony, and we discerne the cause of the concords and discords, which either delight or offend our sence. The thing y^t heareth the sound is the sence; but the thing that iudgeth of that which the sence conceyueth, is another thing than the sence. The lyke is to be sayd of smelling, tasting, and feeling. Our smelling of sents, our tasting of sauours, and our feeling of substances, is in déede the woorke of our Sences. But as for our iudging of y^e inward vertue of y^e thing by the outward sent thereof, or of the wholsomnes or vnwholsomnes of foode by the taste thereof, or of the whotnesse or vehemencie of a feuer by feeling the pulse; yea and our procéeding euen into the very bowels of a man, whether the eye beeing the quickest of all sences is not able to atteyne; surely it is the woorke of a more mightie power than the sence is. And in verie déede there are beasts which do here, see, smell, taste, and feele much better and quicklyer than man doth. Yet notwithstanding none of them conferreth the contraries of colors, sounds, sents and sauours; none sorteth them out to the seruing one of another, or to the seruing of themselues. Whereby it appeareth, that man excelleth the Beasts by another power than the Sences; and that whereas a man is a Peynter, a Musician, or a Phisition; he hath it from elswhere than from his sences. Nay, I say further, that oftentymes we conclude cleane contrarie to the report of our sences. Our eye perchauce telleth vsus that a Tower which we see afarre of is round, whereas our reason deemeth it to be square: or that a thing is small, which our reason telleth vsus is greate: or that the ends of lyues in a long walke do meete in a poynt, whereas our reason certifieth vsus that they runne ryghtfoorth with equall distance one from another. For want of this discretion, certeine Elephants (sayth Vitellio) which were passing ouer a long bridge, turned backe beeing deceyued; and yet they wanted not sight no more than we do. But they that led them were not deceyued. Their Leaders then besides their eysight, had in them another vertue or power which corrected their sight, and therefore ought to be of hygher estimation. In lyke …ase is it with the rest of y^e other sences. For our hearing telleth vsus that the thunderclappe is after the lyghtening; but skill assureth vsus that they be both togither. For there is a certeine power in vsus, which can skil to discerne what proportion is betweene hearing and seeing. Also the tong of him that hath an Agew, beareth him on hand that euen sugre is bi…er, which thing he knoweth by his reason to be vntrew. To be short, those which hauehave their sences most quicke and ly…ely, p. 250be not of the greatest wisdum and vnderstanding. A man therefore differeth from a beast, and excelleth men by some other power than sence. For whereas it is comonly sayd, that such as hauehave séene most are comonly of greatest skill: we see that many hauehave traueled farre both by sea and land, which hauehave come home as wise as they wentfoorth. A horse hath as good eyes as he that rydes vponupon him, and yet for all his traueling, neither he nor paraduenture his Ryder whom he beareth become any whit the wyser by that which they hauehave seene: whereby it appereth that it is not enough to see things vnlesse a man do also mynd them to his benefite.

Now there is great difference betweene the lyuelynes of the Sence, and the power that gouerneth the Sence; lyke as the report of a Spye is one thing, and the Spye himself is another, and the wisdum of the Capteine that receyueth the report of the Spye is a third. Nay, who can deny, that Sence and Reason are dyuers things; or rather who wilnot graunt, that in many things they be cleane contrarie? Sence biddeth vsus shun and eschew greef; whereas Reason willeth vsus to profer our leg sometyme to the Surgion to be cut of. Sence plucketh our hand out of the fire, and yet we our selues put fire to our bare skin. He that should sée a Sceuola burne of his owne hand, without so much as once gnashing his téeth at it, would thinke he were vtterly senslesse: so mightily dooth Reason ouerrule sence. To be short, Sence hath his peculiar inclination, which is appetite; and Reason lykewyse hath his, which is will. And lyke as reason doth oftentymes ouerrule sence and is contrarie to it; so will correcteth the sensuall appetyte or lust that is in vsus, and warreth ageinst it. For in an Agew we couet to drink, and in an Apoplexie we couet to sleepe, and in hungre we couet to eate: and yet from all those things doth our will restreyne vsus. The more a man followeth his lust, the lesse is he led by will: and the more he standeth vponupon the pleasing of his Sences, the lesse reason vseth he ordinarily.

Againe, let vsus consider the brute Beastes which hauehave this sensitiue part as well as we. If we hauehave no more than that, how commeth it to passe that a little child driueth whole flockes and heards of them whether he listeth, and sometymes whether they would not? Whereof commeth it that eueryevery of them in their kynd, doe all liue, nestle, and sing after one sorte; whereas men hauehave their lawes. Commonweales, maners of buylding, and formes of reasoning, not only diuers, but also commonly contrary? Now, what can harber p. 251these contrarieties together, but onelyonly that which hath not any thing contrary vntounto it, and wherein all contrary things doe lay away their contrarietie? Surely it is not the Sence that can doe it, whose proper or peculiar obiect is most contrary to the sence. Besides this (as I hauehave sayd afore) whereas we conceyue wisedome, skill, vertue, and such other things which are all bodilesse, our sences hauehave none other thing to worke vponupon, than the qualities of bodily substances: And whereas we make vniuersall rules of particular things; the Sences atteyne no further than to the particular things themselues: And wheras we conclude of the causes by their effects; our Sences perceyue no more but the bare effects: And whereas concerning the things that belong to vnderstanding, the more vnderstandable they bee, the more they refresh vsus; Contrarywise, the stronger that the sensible things are, the more do they offend the Sence: To be short, the selfesame thing which wee speake in behalfe of the Sences, procéedeth from elswhere than from the Sences. And we will easely discerne, that he which denyeth that besides the common Sence there is in man a reason or vnderstanding, distinct and seuered from the Sence, is voyd both of vnderstanding and of Sence.

But see here a grosse reason of theirs. This reason or power of vnderstanding (say they) which is in man, is corruptible as well as the power of perceyuing by the Sences. I thinke I hauehave prooued the contrary alreadie; neuerthelesse, let vsus examine their reasons yet further. The forme or shape of eueryevery thing (say they) doth perish with the matter. Now, the Soule is as ye would say y^e forme or shape of the body: therfore it corrupteth with the body. This argument were rightly concluded, if it were ment of the materiall forme. But I hauehave proued that the Soule is vnmateriall, and hath a continuance of it selfe. And in déede the more it is discharged of matter, the more it reteyneth his owne peculiar forme. Therefore the corrupting of the matter toucheth not the Soule at all. Again, if mens Soules liue (say they) after their bodies, then are they infinite; for the world is without beginning and without ending, and (as wee knowe) nature can away with no infinite thing: therefore they liue not after their bodies. Yes say I; for I hauehave proued that the world had a beginning, and that with so substantiall reasons, as thou art not able to disproue. Therefore it followeth that the inconuenience which thou alledgest can hauehave no place. Another saith, If dead mens Soules liue still, why come they not to tell vsus so? p. 252And he thinketh he hath stumbled vponupon a woonderful suttle deuise. But how doth this followe in reason? There hath not come any man vntounto vsus from the Indies of a long tyme: ergo there be no Indies. May not the same argument serue as well to proue that wee our selues are not, because wee neuer went thether? Againe, what intercourse is there betwéene things that hauehave bodies, and things that hauehave no bodies; or betwene heauen and earth, considering that there is so small intercourse euen betwéene men, which liue all vnderunder one selfsame Sunne? He that is made a Magistrate in his own Countrey, doth not willingly returne to the place of his banishment. Likewise the Soule that is lodged in the lappe of his God, and come home into his natiue soyle, forgoeth the desire of these lower things, which to his sight beholding them frō aboue, are lesse than the point of a Néedle. On the other side, he that is put in close prison, (how desirous soeuer he bee) cannot goe out; so the Soule which is in the Iayle of his souereine Lord God, hath no respit or sportingtyme to come tell vsus what is done there. Unto the one, the beholding of the Euerlasting God is as a Paradize wherein he is wiling to remayne; and vntounto the other, his owne condemnation is an imprisonment of his will. But we would hauehave God to sende both the one and the other vntounto vsus to make vsus to beléeue. As who would say, it stoode him greatly on hand to hauehave vsus to beléeue, and not rather vsus y^t we should beléeue. And in effect what els is al this, but a desiring y^t some man might returne into his mothers wombe againe, to incourage young babes against the pinches and paines which they abide in the birth, whereof they would be as shye as we bee of death, if they had the like knowledge of them? But let vsus let such vanities passe, and come to the ground.

Yee beare vsus on hand (say they) that the Soule of man is but one, though it hauehave dyuers powers. Whereof we see the sensitiue and the growing powers to be corrupted and to perish: therefore it should seeme that the vnderstanding or reasonable power also should do the lyke. At a woord, this is al one as if a man should say, you tell mee that this man is both a good man, a good Swoordplayer, aud a good Luteplayer altogither; & that bycause his swoord falls out of his hand, or his hand itself becommeth Lame, therefor he cannot be a good or honest man still as you reported him to bee. Nay though he lose those instruments, yet ceasseth he not therefor to bee an honest man, yea and both a Swoordplayer and a Luteplayer to, as in respect of skill. Lykewyse when our Soules hauehave p. 253forgone these exercises, yet ceasse they not to be the same they were afore. To inlyghten this poynt yet more; of the powers of our Soule, some are exercysed by the instruments of the bodie, and othersome without any help or furtherance of the bodie atall. Those which are exercysed by the bodie, are the sences and the powers of the Sences and the powers of the growing, which may carye the same likenesse that is betweene a Luter and a Lute. Breake the Luters Lute, and his cunning remayneth still, but his putting of it in practise faileth. GiueGive him another Lute, and he falles to playing newe againe. Put out a mans eyes, and yet the abilitie of seeing abydeth still with him, though the very act of seeing bée disappoynted. But giuegive vntounto the oldest Hag that is the same eyes that he had when he was young, and he shall see as well as euer he did. After the same maner is it with the growing or thriuing power. Restore vntounto it a good… stomacke, a sound Liuer, and a perfect heate; and it shall execute his functions as well as euer it did afore. The power that worketh of it selfe and without the body, is the power of reason or vnderstanding, which if we wil we may call the mynd. And if thou yet still doubt thereof, consider when thou myndest a thing earnestly what thy body furthereth thy mynd therein; & thou shalt perceyue that the more fixedly thou thinkest vponupon it, the lesse thou seest the things before thée; and the more thy mynd wandreth, the more thy body resteth: as who would say that the workings of the body, are the greatest hinderance and impediment that can bée to the peculiar doings of the mynd. And this abilitie of vnderstanding may bee lik…ned to a man, which though he hauehave lost both his hand and his Lute, ceasseth not therefore to bee a man still, and to doe the true déedes of a man, that is to wit, to discourse of things, to mynd them, to vse reason and such like; yea and to be both a Luter and a man as he was afore, notwithstanding that he cannot put his Luteplaying in exercise for want of instruments. Nay, (which more is) this vnderstanding part groweth so much the stronger and greater, as it is lesse occupyed and busied about these bace and corruptible things, & is altogether drawen home wholly to it selfe; as is to be seene in those which want their eyes, whose mynds are commonly most apt to vnderstand, and most firme to remember. Doe we debate of a thing in our selues? Neither our body nor our Sences are busied about it. Doe wee will the same? As little doe they stirre for that too. To vnderstand and to will (which are the operations of the mynd,) the Soule hath no néede of the bodie; and p. 254as for working and being, they accompany one another sayth Aristotle. Therefore to continue still in being, the Soule hath not to doe with the body, nor any néede of the body: but rather, to woorke well and to be well, the Soule ought eyther to be without the bodie, or at leastwise to be vtterly vnsubiect to the bodie.

Yea (say they) but yet we see men forgoe their reason, as fooles and mealancholike persons: and seeing it is forgone, it may also bée corrupted; and if corrupted, it may also dye: for what is death but an vtter and full corruptnesse? Nay, thou shouldest say rather, I hauehave seene diuers which hauing seemed to hauehave lost their right wittes, hauehave recouered them againe by good dyet and medicinable drinkes. But had they bene vtterly lost and forgone, no Phisicke could hauehave restored them agayne: and had they bene vtterly perished, the parties themselues should hauehave had neither sence nor life remayning. Therefore of necessitie the sould of them was as sound as afore. But our Soules wee see not otherwise than by the bodie and by the instruments of the bodie as it were by Spectacles; and our mynd which beholdeth and seeth through his imaginations as it were through a Clowde, is after a sort trubbled by the dimining of the Spectacles and by the smoakinesse of the imaginations. After that maner the Sunne seemeth to be dimmed and eclipsed; and that is but by the comming of the Moone or of some Clowdes betwéene him and vsus; for in his light there is no abatement at all. Likewise our eysight conceyueth things according to the Spectacles wherethrough it looketh, or according to the colour that ouerthwarteth the things which it looketh vponupon. Ta… away the impediments, and our eyes shall see cléere: purge away the humours, and our imagination shall bee pure: and so our vnderstanding shall see as bright as it did afore, euen as the Sunne shineth after the putting away of the Clowdes. And it fareth not with our Soules as it doth with our bodies, which after a long sicknesse reteyne still eyther a hardnesse of the Splene, or a shortnesse of breath, or a falling of the Rhewme vppon the Lungs, or a skarre of some great wound that cannot bee worne out because of the breake that was made in the whole. For neither in their vnderstanding, neither in their willes do our Soules feele any abatement, sauing that there abydeth some mayme or blemish in the instruments; to wit (as I will declare hereafter) so farre foorth as it pleaseth GOD for a iust punishment, to put the Soule in subiection to the bodie whose souereyne it was created to hauehave bene, because it hath neglected the p. 255will of the Creator, to followe the lustes and lykings of the bodie. This appeareth in Lunaticke folkes and such others, which hauehave their wittes troubled at tymes and by fittes. For they be not vexed but at the stirring of their humours, beeing at other tymes sober and well enough stayed in their wittes. The like is seene in them that hauehave the falling sicknesse. For their vnderstanding seemeth to be eclipsed, and as it were striken with a Thunderclap, during the tyme of their fittes; but afterward they bée as discréete as though they ayled nothing. To bee short, the body is subiect to a thousand diseases, wherewith wée see the vnderstanding to bee no whit altered, because they touch not the instruments of the Sences and of the Imaginations, which moue the vnderstanding. Troubled it is in déede by those fewe things only, which infect the Sence and the Imagination, which by that meanes report the things vnfaithfully whereon the mynd debateth. Therfore ye shall neuer see any bodie out of his wittes or out of his right mynd, in whom the Phisitions may not manifestly perceyue, eyther some default of the instruments, as a mishapen and misproportioned head; or els an ouerabounding of some melancholike humour, that troubled and marred his bodie afore it troubled or impayred his mynd. And like as the wisest men being deceyued by false Spyes, do make worng deliberations, howbeit yet grounded vpō good reason, which thing they could not doe vnlesse they were wise in déede: So the reason that is in our mynd maketh false discourses, and gathereth wrong conclusions, vppon the false reports of the imaginations; which it could not doe, if it were eyther diminished or impayred, or done away. Whereunto accordeth this auncient saying, That there bee certeyne follyes which none but wise men can commit, and certeyne Errors which none but learned men can fall into: because that in some cases, discretion and wisedome are requisite in the partie that is to be deceyued, euen to the intent he may bee deceyued; and learning is required in a man that he may conceyue and hold a wrong opinion. As for example, to be beguyled by a dubbledealing Spy or by the surprising of a cosening letter, belongeth to none but to a wise man. For a grosheaded foole neuer breaketh his brayne about such matters as might bring him to the making of false conclusions by mistaking likelyhoods in stead of truth. Likewise to fall into Heresie by misconceyuing some high and déepe poynt, befalleth not to an ignorant person; for he is not of capacitie, neyther doth his vnderstanding mount so high. p. 250To be short, whosoeuer sayth that mans Soule perisheth with the bodie, because it is troubled by the distemperature or misproportionatenesse of the bodie; may as well vphold that the Child in the moothers wombe dyeth with his moother, because he moueth with her, and is partaker with her of her harmes and throwes, by reason of the streyt coniunction that is betwéene them; howbeit that many children hauehave liued safe and sound, notwithstanding that their moothers hauehave dyed; yea and some hauehave come into the world euen by the death of their moothers.

And whereas some say, that because our mynd conceyueth not any thing here, but by helpe of Imagination; therfore when the Imagination is gone with the instruments whereunto it is tyed, the Soule cannot worke alone by it self, nor cōsequently be alone by it selfe: surely it is al one as if they should say, that because the Child being in his moothers wombe taketh nourishment of her blud by his nauill; therfore he cannot liue whē he is come out of her womb, if his nauillstrings be cut off. Nay contrarywise, then is the tyme that the mouth, the tongue, and the other parts of the Childe doe their duetie, which serued erst to no purpose, sauing that they were prepared for the tyme to come. After the same maner also doe wee cherish our mynd by Imagination in this second life; which in the third life being (as ye would say) scaped out of prison, shall begin to vtter his operations by himselfe, and that so much the more certeynly, for that it shall not be subiect to false reports, nor to the sences eyther inward or outward, but to the very things themselues which it shall hauehave seene and learned. To bee short, it shall liue, but not in prison; it shall see, but not through Spectacles; it shall vnderstand, but not by reports; it shall list, but not by way of lusting: the infirmitie which the bodie casteth vponupon it as now, shall then bee away: the force which it bringeth now to the body, shal then be more fresh and liuely than afore. Now then, notwithstanding these vayn reasons of theirs, let vsus conclude, That our soule is an vnderstanding or reasonable power, ouer the which neither death nor corruption hauehave naturally any power, although it be fitted to the body to gouerne it. And if any man doubt hereof, let him but examine himselfe; for euen his owne doubts will proue it vntounto him. Or if he will stand in contention stil, let him fall to reasoning with himselfe: for by concluding his arguments to proue his Soule mortall, he shall giuegive iudgement himselfe that it is immortall. And if I hauehave left any thing vnalledged which might make to this purpose, (for p. 257why may I not, séeing that euen the selfsame things which I hauehave bin able to alledge on the behalf of myne aduersaries, do driue them thereunto?) let vsus thinke also that he which feeleth himself conuicted in himselfe, and for whose behoofe and benefite it were greatly, both to beléeue it and to confesse it, néedeth no more diligent proofe than hath bene made alreadie. But if any man will yet of spyght stand wilfully still against himselfe, let him trye how he can make answer to my foresayd arguments: and in the meane while let vsus see what the sayd opinion of the wisest men, yea and of the whole world hath bene vponupon this mater.