The French academie Fully discoursed and finished in foure bookes. 1. Institution of manners and callings of all estates. 2. Concerning the soule and body of man. 3. A notable description of the whole world, &c. 4. Christian philosophie, instructing the true and onely meanes to eternall life. This fourth part neuer before published in English. All written by the first author, Peter de la Primaudaye, Esquire, Lord of Barre, Chauncellour, and Steward of the French Kings house.

Of the diseases and passions of the body and soule, and of the tranquillitie thereof. Chap. 3.

ARAM.

ONe of the ancient Philosophers vsed to say, that no liuing creature was worse to man than man himselfe, because, albeit he hath dominion ouer all things, yet * 1.1 he cannot rule himselfe, nor his desires. Experience causeth vs both too much to know the truth of this saying. For who can doubt in any sort hereof, seeing blessed S. Paul himselfe confesseth, that he did not the good things which he would, but the euill which he * 1.2

would not, and that in his flesh there dwelt no goodnes? So undoubtedly we have both bo∣die and soule compassed about with so many pernicious passions, that it is very hard, yea * 1.3 altogether impossible, that what good thing soever is in us should not faint and sinke under their heavie weight without a speciall and divine grace.

ACHITOB.

Truely this is no vaine speculation, nor unprofitable to man: as also for a man to know, that he is as it were tied in this world to all uncertaine things, which he, being mortall by nature, cannot any way shun and avoide, without the helpe of God. He which is in health expecteth sicknesse: he that is sicke, health. Doth any one desire in his minde any thing? Before he enjoyeth it, his desire is often changed into another. In a word, no man abideth still in one and the same estate. And therefore Plato calleth man a mutable creature, as if he meant to say, that he is easily altered and changed. * 1.4

ASER.

The change which this divine Philosopher meant (if I be not deceived) hath re∣lation principally to the conditions of the soule, which, being filled with infinite perturbati∣ons, fastened in the midst of it with the naile of pleasure and griefe, is carried away with in∣constancie and uncertaintie into a streame of troublesome passions, which if they be not cut * 1.5 off and maistered by reason, draw a man into utter destruction. But give us to understand (AMANA) more at large of these passions of the soule, and of the way to remedie them: and if you thinke good, you may speake somewhat of those of the bodie.

AMANA.

Amongst the innumerable evils, which the desire of pleasure and feare of griefe, ingraven in the most secret parts of our soule by our first corruption, bring to man, this is the greatest and most pernicious, that they make sensible things more evident and plaine unto him than things intelligible, and constraine the understanding to iudge more by passion than by reason. For using, through the sense of pleasure or travell, to attend the erronious un∣certaintie, and mutable nature of the bodie, as to that which is subsisting and subject to sight, he remaineth blinde, and loseth all knowledge of that which truly is and subsisteth, namely, of the light of the soule, which is divine and immortall. Moreover, applying himselfe wholly to the sensuall and unreasonable will, which is that part of the soule that proceedeth of the corruption thereof, he laboureth with all his might to quench and choke that weake instinct of the soule, which aspireth unto the true Good, from whence she perceiveth hir selfe to have fallen. And this he doth with such force and power, that if God strengthen not the soule, and reason the divine guide, accompanie hir not, without doubt she yeeldeth to such mightie ene∣mies: and then (as we haue said) staying himselfe wholly in things subject to sight, he appea∣reth too carefull and curious in seeking to decke that, which belongeth to the bodie: but as for the soule (whereof all humane felicitie dependeth) because she is invisible, and not seene of him, it is the least of his cares to furnish hir with that which she seeketh & desireth, and which * 1.6 is necessary for hir. Whereupon in the end it commeth to passe that the least overthwarts and discommodities of his flesh seeme very grievous and burdensome to a man, but as for the in∣curable diseases, which overwhelme his soule, he doth not so much as feele them. Now to the end we may understand more particularly that which is here propounded unto us, wee will handle in order, and as briefly as we may (this matter being very large) the diseases and passi∣ons of the bodie and soule, with the remedie which we are to desire and seeke after. And first we will speake a word of the diseases of the bodie, next of the naturall and necessary passions thereof, albeit we will intreate of the passions of the soule, as of our chiefe matter subiect. Con∣cerning the maladies and evill dispositions of the bodie, one Hippocrates, one Galene, nay infi∣nite others skilfull in Physicke, are not able to describe them exactly, much lesse prescribe cer∣taine and sure remedies. But seeing it is not my purpose or profession to stay long heere, nei∣ther yet necessarily belong to the cause of our assembly, I will content my selfe to speake these few words by the way, that we ought to take everie bodily infirmitie as a fatherly cha∣stisment * 1.7 of our sins, and as a necessary meane to awaken us, to warne us of our dutie, and to keepe us in awe. Besides, one principall cause of all bodily diseases, proceedeth ordinarily from vices, which are the proper inheritance of man, and with which wee defile ourselves continually. Therefore if we heale our soules, we may cure ourselves of the most of them: and as for others, which come by defect of nature, or by some other hidden cause, we have the counsell and helpe of Physitions, whom willingly and diligently we seeke after. There are besides these, certaine naturall and necessary passions in the body, properly belonging * 1.8 unto it, even from the first creation thereof, which are not to bee condemned, neither can be taken away, but with the abolishing of mans nature: as the desire of drinking, eating, slee∣ping, and such like, which onely by the direction of reason are to be freed from all superfluity.

But it standeth otherwise with the diseases and passions of the soule, deriued from our first corruption, and driuen forward by sin, being plentifull and rich, which without comparison are farre more dangerous than those of the bodie, more hard to be perceiued and knowne, more headstrong and vneasie to cure, and which is worse, man is very slothfull in seeking out a remedy for them. And for the most part thinking that he hath found some remedy, through want of skill and and ignorance, he falleth into a worse estate than he was in before, and as we commonly say, from a gentle ague into a pestilent and burning feuer. But first wee will generally define this word, Passion, according to the opinion of those philosophers, who were * 1.9 endued with greatest light. Passion is euery naturall and actuall motion in the soule. This mo∣tion is of two sorts: the one weake, good and holy, aspiring and reioycing in that which is truely good: the other very strong, euill and pernicious, couering with a disordered desire, and delighting with an immoderate ioy in a good falsly so imagined. The matter of these motions are opinions, affections, and inclinations, which being considered in their owne nature, are through sinne wicked and corrupt throughout the soule, yea the blossome and roote of them proceede from our owne substance, to the end (as Plato saith) that no man should thinke God to be the cause of euill. Now albeit these passions thus defined by the Philosophers are many in number, yet drawing neerer to the truth, we may comprehend and diuide them all into two principall kinds. The first kinde shall be that which we beleeue by faith: the other according * 1.10 to our opinions and affections. Vnder the first wee comprehend that which euery one be∣leeueth, thinketh, and desireth, concerning diuine and heauenly things, as of true righte∣ousnesse, of the immortalitie of the second life, and of the iudgement to come. Vnder o∣pinions and affections is comprehended whatsoeuer respecteth and concerneth earthly things, this life, manners, gouernment of a houshold, of a common-wealth, and generally all humane inclinations and actions. As touching that which we beleeue by faith, we are led thereunto, and stirred by the weake instinct and feeling of the diuine nature imprinted in * 1.11 euery soule, which after a sort mooueth man to aspire vnto, and to desire the true and soue∣raigne good, and which, being more powerfull, and of greater efficacie in some than in others, causeth the better sort to delight also in the same good. Neuerthelesse it is proper to euery mans vnderstanding, not to hold a steadfast and sure way in seeking out the truth, but * 1.12 to wander aside into diuers errors (as a blinde man that walketh in darkenesse) and to fill it selfe rather with lies, and with a continuall desire and curiositie of new, vnprofitable and superfluous things, than to content it selfe simplie with the truth, insomuch that finally it misseth of all. But to the end we be not of this number, we ought to hold fast to the infallible rule of the holy Scriptures: which gift we are to aske, hope, waite, and seeke for in the onely grace and mercie of that Spirit which indighteth them, and to looke for the full opening of these treasures in the second and eternall life. As for the second kinde of our passions, proper∣ly called perturbations according to the philosophers, from whence all the euils and miseries * 1.13 of mankind proceede, and whereof wee minde chiefely to speake, they are but affections and inclinations, which come from our will, corrupted by the prouocations and allurements of the flesh, and which wholly resist the diuine nature of the reasonable part of the soule, faste∣ning it to the bodie (as Plato saith) with the naile of pleasure. Which passions the minde of man commonly beholdeth cleerely enough, when it applieth it selfe thereunto, if it bee not altogether peruerted and depraued: yea by the grace and helpe of God, the minde is able to confirme it selfe against any passion through the discourse of reason, before it be in force, and during the vehemencie thereof, to fortifie it selfe against it. And although the passion bee * 1.14 contrarie to reason, and haue (for her onely scope) pleasure, and the feare of griefe, which can preuaile greatly with man, yet reason by the meanes of Gods grace, can both easily con∣straine, master and compell all passions in such sort, that they shall take no effect, and also bring to passe, that whatsoeuer is rashly desired, shall bee ouercome by the discourse of pru∣dent counsell. And for this cause we say, that the first motions are not in our power, but that the euent and issue of them is in some sort. Likewise reason doth not wholly quench and ex∣tinguish all passions, which cannot possibly be performed in the nature of man, but repelleth and hath the vpper hand of them, as the precepts of doctrine, and infinite examples of the liues of ancient heathen and pagan philosophers doe learnedly teach vs. Which thing as it * 1.15 ought to cause many at this day to bee ashamed, who vaunt themselues of the name of Christians, so it condemneth them in a fault not to bee excused before the iust iudge∣ment of God, because those men, being destitute of the perfect knowledge of God, which they say they haue, farre excelled and surpassed them in the brideling, ouercomming and

killing of so many pestiferous passions as compasse the soule about, as we may handle else∣where, and see examples thereof worthy of eternall remembrance, when wee shall discourse particularly of vertues and vices. In the meane while we may learne of Cicero (the father of latine eloquence, whose skill in ioyning philosophy with the art of Rhetorike, was excellent, and who in my iudgement handleth this our present matter more profitably than any other of the ancient) that all the aboue named euill passions are perturbations, which if they be not mastered by reason, depriue man of the soueraigne good of the soule, which consisteth in the tranquillity thereof. Moreouer he saith, that through ignorance and basenes of minde, they proceed onely of the opinion of good or euill, either present or to come, which we imagine * 1.16 to be in the vnperfect and transitorie things of the world, and which are accompanied vnse∣parably either with good or euill. In respect of good things, we are carried away with a vehe∣ment desire or couering of them, besides an immoderate ioy in them: in regard of euil things, we are oppressed with feare and sorrow. And these are the foure springs of all vices and sinnes * 1.17 wherein men plunge themselues during this life, and vnder which all perturbations are com∣prehended, which fill the soule with endlesse trouble and disquietnes, causing man to liue al∣waies vncontented, and to finde euery present kinde of life burdensome, and so to seeke after and to desire another. But as fearefull men, (saith Plutarke that excellent Philosopher, and schoolemaster to that good Traian) and they that are at sea, subiect to casting, thinking they shall be better in one place than in another, goe from the sterne to the stem, then to the bot∣tome * 1.18 of the shippe, afterward to the highest part, from thence goe into the skiph, and in the end returne into the shippe, without any amendment of their euill, because they carry alwaies about with them both feare and griefe: so the alteration of life, and of worldly conditions and estates into others, doth not purge, but rather increase the perturbations and diseases of the soule, if first the cause of them, I meane ignorance of things, and the imperfection of rea∣son, be not taken out of it. These are the mischiefs, which trouble both rich and poore: these are the miseries, which waite vpon great and small, bond and free, yong and old. Thus is the spirit of sicke persons vexed, and that continually. One while the wife is troublesome, the Phi∣sition * 1.19 vnskilfull, the bed vneasie, the friend that visiteth importunate, he which visiteth not proud: but being once healed, they finde that whatsoeuer was yrksome vnto them before, now pleaseth them. But that which health doth to the diseased body, the same thing reason * 1.20 worketh in the soule of a prudent man, by curing the passions and perturbations thereof, and by causing him to rest ioyfull and contented, in what estate and condition soeuer he be. Let vs note moreouer (which we touched in the beginning of this present discourse) that all these passions of the soule are much more dangerous than those of the body, because the most hurt∣full passions of the body, are first ingendred of those in the soule. For the body yeeldeth it selfe ready to serue the desires, appetites, and pleasures of the soule, which being ouercome and in the power of fleshly prouocations, procureth in the end destruction to them both. But con∣trariwise, the soule being ruled by reason, resisteth mightily all corporall passions and is no∣thing at all, or very little made partaker of their euill dispositions: whereas on the other side the body is constrained to all alter and change with euery infirmitie of the soule. If the minde be troubled, what cheerefulnes can be seene in the face? The diseases of the body hinder not the soule from effecting all good and vertuous actions: yea many haue brought forth the fruits of wise Philosophers and great Captaines, when they were vexed with diseases, which they could neuer do at least very few of them, that were corrupted and defiled in soule. And therfore Democritus said very well, that it was much more conuenient and meete for a man to haue care of his soule, than of his body: For if the soule be perfect, she correcteth the naughti∣nes * 1.21 of the body, whereas the strength and disposition of the body without the vse of reason, hurteth both the soule and it selfe. Moreouer, that the passions of the soule are harder to bee perceiued and knowne, and consequently more vneasie to be cured, who doth not easily feele it, being grieued but in the least part of his body? yea what griefe doth not of it selfe suf∣ficiently appeare, either by some inflammation, or by the colour of the visage, or by some o∣ther outward shew? But how many do we see, whose soules are extremely sicke, spoiled and corrupted with vice, and yet being depriued of all feeling, they thinke themselues to bee the soundest men in the world? And that they are headstrong and vneasie to be cured, we may know by this, that the body is in the end so far forth obedient, that if reason be vrged vpon it, * 1.22 she forceth euen the naturall passions of hunger, thirst and sleepe, and findeth out besides a thousand remedies to helpe your selfe. But whē the passions of the soule haue once bin groun∣ded and rooted within it, without resistance they haue such pearcing pricks, that oftentimes

they presse and ouerwhelme all reason, which is their onely medicine and preseruatiue. And yet to fill vp the measure of all miserie, such is the froward nature of man, that he is much more slothfull to seeke out this remedy of the soule, than that of the body, as wee touched in the beginning of this present discourse. Moreouer, the iudgement of reason being oftentimes diseased within him, is the cause, that when he thinketh to finde health, hee encreaseth his euill, and falleth into those inconueniences, which he desired most of all to eschew. Example * 1.23 hereof we haue in those, who being led onely with a desire of glory and honour, obtaine no∣thing by their doings, if we consider them well, but shame and dishonour. The like may bee said of all the other diseases of the soule, which commonly are accompanied and followed with effects contrarie to their ends and desires. What remaineth then, seeing we perceiue the dangers to be great, which follow all the perturbations of the soule, but that knowing it to be more easie not to receiue them, than to driue them out being receiued, we preuent them, and hinder them from taking liuely roote within our soules, by making reason (which as He∣siodus saith is a diuine guide, and wisedome inspired from aboue) so strong and powerfull, * 1.24 that it may, be able by the grace of God, to resist all the assaults of vnbridled desires, and the froward affections of this flesh? But behold yet a better and more certaine remedie: namely, that being assured, that all perturbations are but opinions drawne from our will, through a iudgement corrupted with the affections of this flesh, we labour by good and sound reasons to ouerthrow and confound these false and erronious opinions, perswading our selues that * 1.25 whatsoeuer wee imagine to be good or euill in the world (which is the cause that our minds are depriued of their rest and quietnesse) is indeed neither good nor euill, and so consequent∣ly, that it ought not in any sort to breede passions within vs. Hereof the sequele of our discourses shall (by the helpe of God) giue vs to vnderstand more at large, and furnish vs with examples of pernicious effects, which proceede from all the passions of the soule. Wee will here by the way note their force, hauing learned out of Histories, that they haue often∣times set vpon the hearts of men in such violent manner, that some through desire, some for ioy: these by feare, others by griefe haue ended their liues. Diagoras the Rhodian, and Chilon, hearing * 1.26 that their children had wonne the prize at the games of Olympus, felt such a motion in them of the spleene, that they were stifled with laughter. Herennus the Sicilian, as he was led priso∣ner, for being a copartner in the conspiracy of Caius Gracchus, was so astonished, and oppressed with the feare of his iudgement to come, that hee fell downe starke dead at the entry of the prison. Plautius the Numidian looking vpon his dead wife tooke it so to heart, that casting * 1.27 himselfe vpon the dead body, he arose no more, but was there stifled with sorrow. As for ex∣treme desire or coueting, there is nothing that so greatly mooueth or carrieth away the minds of men, or that commeth neerer to their destruction, than this foolish passion in dange∣reth their life. Galeace of Mantua saying oftentimes to a damsell of Pauia whom hee courted and made loue to, that he would suffer a thousand deaths for her seruice, if it were possible, was in iest commaunded by her to cast himselfe into the riuer: which hee presently perfor∣med, and was drowned. But we shall alleadge more fitly such testimonies of the fond effects of desire, and of all the perturbations of the soule, when we discourse more particularly of e∣uery vice that proceedeth from them. In the meane time I would gladly aske this question of him, that is most ignorant, vicious, and carnall, whether hee will not graunt vertue to bee a good of the soule. There is none so impudent whose conscience would not compell him to confesse the same. And yet no man is carried away with too great a desire of vertue, neither doth any reioyce therein too excessiuely, after hee hath obtained it. Likewise there is none * 1.28 that feareth so vehemently, least he cannot obtaine her, as that the feare thereof driueth the soule out of his place and rest. For no man can fall into this feare, least he should not become vertuous, except he be very desirous to be so indeed: & none can haue this desire, except rea∣son, guided with heauenly light, & doing her duty in him, had wrought the same: but reason thus qualified must needs be an enemy to al perturbatiōs. Thus we see that no man, through feare of not being vertuous, is ouertaken with perturbatiōs. The like may bee said of sorrow. For albeit a man be grieued because he is not vertuous, yet his minde is not excessiuely dis∣quieted, seing this desire is neuer in him, but when reason cōmandeth according to her diuine nature, by causing vs to know ourselues. Wherby we clearly perceiue that perturbatiōs neuer arise in vs for that which is the true good of the soule, but onely for that which fooles do falsly call good, & that which the Philosophers call the goods of the body & of fortune. But these * 1.29 being naturally subiect to corruption, & as we haue already said, inseparably accōpanied with vehement desire, vnbridled ioy, feare and griefe, (as we shall see more at large when we handle

them hereafter) are vnworthy to be cared for by the immortall soule, neither may or ought they to be called goods because they are possessed, much lesse euills, when they are wanting. If we bee thus perswaded, wee shall bee masters ouer all perturbations, not esteeming that which is mortall and fraile, worthy to bee either wished for, or delighted in. Hereof it will come to passe, that our soule and spirit shall be quiet, and reason, which knoweth how to dis∣cerne good from euill, will deale with vs as a good husbandman, and vine-dresser dealeth with his tree and vine, when he cutteth off the dead branches and vnprofitable twigs, to the end that all noisome sap and moisture may be taken away. And thus shall we be taught to de∣sire and do that, which wee ought, and euery contrary inclination shall be weakened, not ta∣king effects, and the soule shall fulfill her duty, in commanding absolutely, ouer all the pro∣uocations of the flesh, and in quenching them so soone as they do appeare. For as they that haue healthfull bodies (saith Epictetus) easily endure both cold and heate: so they that haue a staied and setled soule, haue the dominion ouer anger, griefe, ioy, and all their other affecti∣ons. * 1.30 Then shall we liue happily, not being terrified with any feare, nor vexing our spirits with any longing or tedious desires, nor being tormented with any lusts & disordered affections, and lastly, not suffering our selues (being drunken withsugred poison) to bee ouercome and bound vnder the yoke of pleasure. This shall we learne by the study of Philosophie, which is a certaine remedy, and a sound medicine for euery vice and passion, and is able to inrich and cloath vs with reason, which is such a beautifull, perfect and profitable ornament.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Nothing worse to man than man himselfe.
• * 1.2

  Rom. 7. 18. 19
• * 1.3

  There is no good thing in the flesh of man.
• * 1.4

  Man is a mu∣table creature.
• * 1.5

  Pleasure and griefe the cause of pas∣sions.
• * 1.6

  Man is more carefull of his body than of his soule.
• * 1.7

  The end, cause, and re∣medy of bo∣dily diseases.
• * 1.8

  Naturall passions.
• * 1.9

  The definiti∣on of passion.
• * 1.10

  The diuision of passions.
• * 1.11

  All men haue naturally a desire of hap∣pinesse.
• * 1.12

  No man by nature can find out the right way that leadeth to happinesse. The word of God sheweth vs the right way to happi∣nesse.
• * 1.13

  Of the per∣turbations of the soule.
• * 1.14

  The scope of our passions.
• * 1.15

  The ancient heathen may arise vp in iudgement a∣gainst many Christians in these daies.
• * 1.16

  The originall nature, and ef∣fects of per∣turbations.
• * 1.17

  All perturba∣tions are con∣tained vnder these foure heads, Desire Ioy, Feare, Griefe.
• * 1.18

  An excellent comparison.
• * 1.19

  The cause of the diseases of the soule.
• * 1.20

  Reason is the medicine of the soule.
• * 1.21

  A sonnd soule correcteth the naughti∣nes of the body▪
• * 1.22

  The p••ssions of the soule are head∣strong and h••••d to be cured.
• * 1.23

  The Passions of men com∣monly bring foorth effects contrarie to their purposes
• * 1.24

  Reason, is wisedome in∣spired from heauen.
• * 1.25

  A remedy a∣gainst passiōs.
• * 1.26

  Examples of death by ouer great ioy. Herennus di∣ed for feare.
• * 1.27

  Plautius through griefe. The effects of desire.
• * 1.28

  Vertue is al∣waies without excessiue pas∣sion.
• * 1.29

  The nature of worldly goods.
• * 1.30

  A wise soule gouerneth the affections What it is to liue happily.