A00777:38
Diseases of the soul a discourse divine, moral, and physical. By Tho. AdamsDiseases of the soule a discourse diuine, morall, and physicall. By Tho. Adams
Diseases of the soul a discourse divine, moral, and physical. By Tho. Adams.Diseases of the soule a discourse diuine, morall, and physicall. By Tho. Adams.
London: printed by George Purslowe for John Budge, 1616London: printed by George Purslowe for Iohn Budge, 1616
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Causes.
They give a double cause of this disease in the body; either the distemperature and evil affectedness of the brain; or an offence given to it from the mouth of the stomach: vapours, gross and tough humours, or windy exhalations, either lodging in the brain, or sent thither from the stomach, turning about the animal spirits: hence the brain staggers with giddiness. This spiritual Inconstancy ariseth from like causes. If it be in religion, it proceeds from cloudy imaginations, fancies, fictions, and forced dreams, which keep the mind from a sober and peaceful considerateness. Multitude of opinions, like foggy vapours, mist the intellectual faculty, and like reverberated blasts whirl about the spirits. He sees some Ceremonial divisions in our Church, and therefore dares not steadfastly embrace that truth, which both parts without contention teach and observe. So leaves the blessing of his mother, because he beholds his brethren quarrelling: whiles he sees the unreconcilable opposition of Rome and us, which he fondly labours to atone, he forsakes both, and will now be a Church alone. Thus his breast is full of secret combats, contradictions, affirmations, negatives, and whiles he refuseth to join with others, he is divided in himself: And yet will rather search ⟨p. 10⟩excuses for his unstayednesse, then ground for his rest. He loathes Manna after two days feeding, and is almost weary of the Sun for perpetual shining. If the Temple pavements be ever worn with his visitant feet, he will run far to a new Teacher: and rather then be bound to his own parish, he will turn Recusant. He will admire a new Preacher, till a quarter of the sand is out; but if the Church doors be not locked up, he cannot stay out the hour: what he promiseth to a Collection to day, he forgets, or at least denies the next morning. His best dwelling would be his confined chamber, where his irresolution might trouble nothing, but his pillow. In humane matters, the cause of his variableness is not varied, but the object. He is transformable to all qualities, a tempered lump of wax to receive any form, yet no impression sticks long upon him. he holds it the quickness of his wit, to be voluble.