observe not; which otherwise would much affect us, had we been free.  I may therefore conclude with [1599]Arnoldus, Maxima vis est phantasiae, et huic uni fere, non autem corporis intemperiei, omnis melancholiae causa est ascribenda:  “Great is the force of imagination, and much more ought the cause of melancholy to be ascribed to this alone, than to the distemperature of the body.”  Of which imagination, because it hath so great a stroke in producing this malady, and is so powerful of itself, it will not be improper to my discourse, to make a brief digression, and speak of the force of it, and how it causeth this alteration.  Which manner of digression, howsoever some dislike, as frivolous and impertinent, yet I am of [1600]Beroaldus’s opinion, “Such digressions do mightily delight and refresh a weary reader, they are like sauce to a bad stomach, and I do therefore most willingly use them.”

SUBSECT.  II.—­Of the Force of Imagination.

What imagination is, I have sufficiently declared in my digression of the anatomy of the soul.  I will only now point at the wonderful effects and power of it; which, as it is eminent in all, so most especially it rageth in melancholy persons, in keeping the species of objects so long, mistaking, amplifying them by continual and [1601]strong meditation, until at length it produceth in some parties real effects, causeth this, and many other maladies.  And although this phantasy of ours be a subordinate faculty to reason, and should be ruled by it, yet in many men, through inward or outward distemperatures, defect of organs, which are unapt, or otherwise contaminated, it is likewise unapt, or hindered, and hurt.  This we see verified in sleepers, which by reason of humours and concourse of vapours troubling the phantasy, imagine many times absurd and prodigious things, and in such as are troubled with incubus, or witch-ridden (as we call it), if they lie on their backs, they suppose an old woman rides, and sits so hard upon them, that they are almost stifled for want of breath; when there is nothing offends, but a concourse of bad humours, which trouble the phantasy.  This is likewise evident in such as walk in the night in their sleep, and do strange feats:  [1602]these vapours move the phantasy, the phantasy the appetite, which moving the animal spirits causeth the body to walk up and down as if they were awake.  Fracast. l. 3. de intellect, refers all ecstasies to this force of imagination, such as lie whole days together in a trance:  as that priest whom [1603]Celsus speaks of, that could separate himself from his senses when he list, and lie like a dead man, void of life and sense.  Cardan brags of himself, that he could do as much, and that when he list.  Many times such men when they come to themselves, tell strange things of heaven and hell, what visions they have seen; as that St. Owen, in Matthew Paris, that went into St. Patrick’s purgatory, and the monk of Evesham in the same author.  Those common apparitions